War on Dust Bunnies

Last Saturday afternoon I launched a house-wide offensive campaign. I called it “The War on Dustbunnies.” They started as mere immigrants, coming across the borders illegally on furniture, clothes, stinky dogs and unsuspecting cats. Soon, it became clear that there was an outright invasion on my hands. Furthermore, they were stealing jobs formerly reserved for resident household dirt. At the rate they were multiplying, they were probably hogging up birthing facilities, too. There was obviously an uprising forming underneath the island in the kitchen, and I shuddered to think might be hiding in the dark recesses of the “desert” area underneath the couch. I armed myself with a broom and things got ugly. The dustbunnies were restless and quickly tried to smite me with my own broom. They stared at me defiantly from every corner of every room. I was surrounded and outnumbered. The natives of the Arid region referred to as "Jeffrey’s Bathroom" were tired of being “bepissed,” to use a polite, old-English term. They appeared to have mutated from repeated exposure to toxic filth and had grown to previously unheard of proportions. Reliable intelligence sources indicated that they were also developing weapons of mass destruction. They were agitated and sought to retaliate for what they perceived to be an act of extreme disrespect in the form of a blasphemous, (not to mention badly drawn), representation of what is obviously the Dustbunny Messiah (see below).


Insulted at having been attacked on my own soil, I had no choice but to exterminate them with chemical weapons (floor cleaner) and heavy artillery (a broom and vacuum). However, the dust bunnies are a crafty bunch and the remnants of the original uprising are now hiding in remote regions of the basement, allying themselves with the new cat. Using his loveable, fluffy façade, they are tirelessly plotting another insurgency, using him as a “Trojan cat” to sneak in behind enemy lines in order to carry out their evil plan to stick to our socks and irritate our sinuses. We must be vigilant, friends, for dust bunnies never sleep.

Shane and Addison

The cat looks a little cranky here, but don't be fooled... he climbed up next to Addison by his own choice. He has flopped down next to him and seems to enjoy his company. Addison is thrilled with his new "kiddy." 

Introducing Shane

The newest furball in our menagerie. He's 10 years old and a friendly, purebred Himalayan. Just what we needed. Someone else to puke, poop and shed on the carpets. His owners were an older couple that couldn't take care of him anymore and they were considering having him put down if someone else couldn't take him... so here he is. Tigger got her first look at him last night. There was no fighting or growling... just a look of terrified curiosity on her face as if to say, "you call that a CAT? It's a $#%!! Sasquatch for the love of Bast!!!"

As you can see, he is adjusting well and seems to enjoy the attention from the kids. 

Robins and Snowdrops

The snowdrops appeared in my driveway around the end of last week and daffodils are starting to poke through the soil. It was bitter cold all weekend, and today is no exception. It is windy and snow squalls have been moving through all morning. I went to nuke my lunch a few minutes ago and noticed that there were Robins on the roof of the office building next door. They are probably freezing their tailfeathers off, but they are here, nevertheless! Hooray!! Won't be long now!

Oh, I forgot

Yellowjackets and pumpkin guts... two other things I've seen the dog eat lately. He hates yellowjackets (sometime I will tell you the story of the time Jason unearthed a big nest with the bobcat he was driving). Anyway, since the bobcat/yellowjacket incident, Lucky is permanently pissed off at yellowjackets. When he sees them flying around you can actually see him scowl and then he will follow them, snapping away until he catches them. He won't run away, even if they are stinging him in the ass. He will just eat them. I know they sting him, too, because I've seen him shaking his head as he eats them, but nevertheless, he does swallow them. He ate about 4 pounds of pumpkin guts the last time we carved halloween pumpkins. We had 5 or 6 pumpkins and we were throwing the guts in the woods... he'd go chase the guts and eat them. Surely, anything a human tosses aside must taste good, right? I kept expecting him to crap pumpkins over the next few weeks...

Need a lift?

I find it inspiring to watch the minutes that George W. Shrub has left in office ticking away. Hope you enjoy the countdown in the left-hand column.

The World's Grossest Dog and Other Joys

I continue to plot my escape from Kindergarten. I've sent out several resumes, but haven't heard anything on them yet. I am also researching the possibility of a work-at-home business, but I don't know if it is viable yet or not. I'll keep you all posted.

In the meantime, I thought I'd regale you all with a story about my gross dog. You've heard of the "World's Ugliest?" Well, ladies and gentlemen, when they start the "World's Grossest Dog" contest, I have the winner... hands down. Last night, Jason and I were talking in the kitchen. Lucky, who's usually an outdoor dog - because he's gross - was sleeping in the mud room, which is right next to the kitchen. We're talking away when suddenly Lucky gets up, walks non-chalantly into the room, looks up at Jason and then proceeds to seat himself on the linoleum and drag his butt on the floor unceremoniously, leaving a foot-and-a-half long skid mark that, as Jason put it, "Dale Jr. himself would've been proud of." Jason and I looked at each other, then the skid mark, and Jason finally "God, he's gross... I'm picking the next pet!" We cleaned up the floor and then went to buy some worm medicine for the dog. Hopefully, that will resolve the butt-dragging issue.

Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about the dog. I've never seen anything quite like him - and certainly nothing quite as gross. A friend of mine recently e-mailed me and said they had lost their pug. She ate a paper clip and died of zinc poisoning. Now, there's nothing funny about the fact that they lost their pug, mind you. I would never poke fun at that. When he told me about it I thought, "you have got to be kidding me!" I thought about all the stuff Lucky has eaten - assorted garbage, trees, rocks, jewelry, shoes, walls, upholstery, pencils, the front seat of a work truck, a bullet (I dropped it and he thought it was something yummy so he inhaled it).... then there were the visits to the "cat litter smorgasbord" and my personal favorite for the "grosser than gross award" - any feminine sanitary article he can get his nose on. Oh, and let's not forget the turd that mysteriously disappeared out of Addison's baby potty before it even had time to stop steaming.. I didn't actually dust the pot for nose prints, but no one else in the house would've wanted to steal a turd. The first time Lucky met our friend Bill, he walked up with a plastic bag hanging out of his butt (after a recent garbage fest) and gave Jason a look like "a little help here, please?" It was definitely not one of Jason's prouder moments. I thought, gee, I can do him in with paper clips??? But Jason reminded me that the dog is indestructible and would probably just eat the clips then crap nails in the driveway and we'd all have flat tires.

Hope you all enjoyed my gross dog story.... now back to sending out my resume.

I hate my job... is that why I keep having this dream?

I hate my job. I've come to the conclusion that I like people as individuals, but hate working in groups. It never seems to fail, either, that when you get too many women in a single area, things get nasty. You would think this would end after high school and certainly not be a problem after your 30's but no... it doesn't seem to end. Now, the big thing at work is talking. A few of the people I know have been told "no talking about personal stuff on business time." No one's said anything to me, but I still do not like it, for several reasons. First, productivity and morale are directly related. When you start reprimanding people for stupid shit and they become afraid to say anything to anyone, you negatively affect morale. Secondly, I have asked to work from home - even offered to take a paycut if I was allowed to do so, but that is not acceptable. I have to be in the office, even though I would probably be less distracted by social interaction at home, so why not make it a pleasant place to be by building rapport with one's coworkers (within reason, of course)? Third, no one thinks twice of bothering me with work on my lunch hour, and putting in extra hours (which I don't get paid for because I'm salaried) is perfectly acceptable - even expected. It makes you want to retaliate in an immature way and say "if there's no personal on work time, then there is no work on personal time." Finally, it's just a bunch of bullshit. I'm 34 years old. This isn't kindergarten.... and it's all because one person got told to shut up and she said well it's not just me... and named names. Now her VP is on a mission with a laundry list of people.

I have this recurring dream. In it, I am back in high school. Sometimes I'm late or I've missed classes and I'm all stressed out about having to go to school, catch up on my work, or whatever. Suddenly, it occurs to me that I've been to college. Not only have I been to college, but I have a Bachelor's degree and an MBA. Surely that should mean that I don't have to go to school anymore. In fact, I should be able to march right into that office and say, "hey, I've already done this and I don't have to be here anymore." Then there is such a feeling of relief. I think it has something to do with my stupid, shitty, infantile work situation. I had the dream again last night... anyone care to comment?