Well, that was...a Christmas.

**Edited to say that I don't know what Blogger has against proper spacing today, but it seems unfixable, sorry.**

So, what's been happening since last we spoke? Let's run it down, shall we?

Wednesday, Christmas Eve: worked a half-day. The owner brought in lunch for everyone...from a barbeque restaurant. What does a vegetarian eat in this situation? A cheese sandwich dipped in barbeque sauce, plus sides of potato salad and cole slaw. Fully carbo-loaded, I went home and lazed for the rest of the afternoon. Went to church that evening, sang, people loved it, went home. Alone. Sigh.

Thursday, Christmas Day: slept until nearly 8:00 a.m.! (This is definitely sleeping in for me.) Went to the office to feed the work cats, and then waited at home for my family to arrive. Which they did at the unheard-of time of 11:30 a.m.! (It's really hard to get my sister and brother-in-law out and about that early on a weekday.) I had specifically requested that nobody spend much money on presents for me, since I had very little to spend on anyone else. (I must have been prescient, since I made the request even before I spent my Christmas bonus PLUS on car repairs.) Well, they didn't completely heed my request, and I was the recipient of a gift card to CP Jenney's, and my new cleaning girl, MUFFY:

Why "Muffy," you're asking? Well, she's girly and lightweight and PINK. Oh, so pink. I'm not sure this picture adequately conveys the pinkness of the pink. Longtime readers will remember that I am not such a fan of PINK, overall...which my sister knew, of course...and why she thought it hilarious to give me a bright pink vacuum. I have to admit, I grin a little every time I see it. Perhaps that was the point.


We then proceeded to the nearest Chinese buffet. (It's true, they are all open. It's not true, however, that the waiters will gather around your table and sing "Deck the harrs with boughs of horry." Sadly.) I was amused by the fact that my mother seemed to need to assure every staff member who came to the table that WE didn't usually eat out on Christmas, and in fact, this was our very first time, and it was only because she and my sister were so tired of cooking for their catering business. It made me giggle. They're not judging us, Mom! You're not a bad mother 'cause you're not cooking a turkey and baking pies today.

Anyway, here comes the heartwarming part of the story...

A very old man entered the restaurant just as we did. All by himself. Which is enough to make you sad, all on its own. But then my brother-in-law happened to be in earshot when the management required the very old man to pay upfront for his meal. (They weren't doing this to anyone else.) Now, maybe they have reason to know that he's a bad risk, and maybe they were just suspicious because he seemed so downtrodden. Whatever, it's still a bummer.


Now, my brother-in-law and I don't always see eye-to-eye. We have very, VERY different political viewpoints, and that has caused some problems. But he treats my sister well, and I have known him to be very generous. Well, he went up to the manager and told them to give the old man his money back, and put his lunch on our tab. Nice, right? It gets better.


When our bill came, my parents and my bro-in-law began haggling, as usual, over who would pay. My mother finally threw some cash down on the table and announced that she would under no circumstances take it back. B-I-L announced with equal fervor that he was paying the bill with his credit card, and that cash wasn't going into HIS pocket. At which point my sister quietly announced that she knew whose pocket it was going into...and she walked it over to the table where the old man was still sitting, slipped it into his hand and wished him a merry Christmas. She said when he opened his hand and saw the bills all he could say was "oh, oh, oh." Now, I don't care if the old coot spent the whole thing on hookers and blow, that's still a Hallmark moment!


We went back to the house, they got on the road towards home, and that's about it for Christmas Day. Though I am happy to report that the fruit bars from, let's say..."Borgan's Makery," the little hometown bakery I hadn't been to in forever, are just as fabulous as I remembered them. I had specifically requested that they bring me some, as I hadn't had one in 20 years, and then had a panicked moment where I worried that maybe they had changed the recipe, and I was going to spoil my memories. Needless worry. Heh. What is a "fruit bar"? Well, it's a really chewy, flat cookie full of dried fruit. It's better than it sounds.


Friday, Boxing Day: I slept until 8:00 again, then went to feed the office cats. On my way back home, I suddenly lost my power steering. Lovely! With some over-the-phone coaching from my dad, I managed to figure out that a belt was broken. There's an auto parts store near my house, so I went there, purchased a new belt, and then took my choice of several of a strip mall full of "mecanicos," any of which the auto parts guy assured me could help me out. (Yes, I kind of live near Little Mexico.) I picked the one with the most recently painted signage, and what seemed to be a bustling business. The guy agreed to replace the belt: "five minutes...twenty dollars?" I handed him cash, he didn't write anything down or give me a receipt, and off I went, happy as could be. It's good to know there's an agreeable shade tree mecanico so close by. I swung by the grocery store to make sure I had enough cat food until payday, in case yet ANOTHER thing broke on the stinkin' car and stranded me without wheels.


Then, later that afternoon...I decided to brave the mall. I know, I know...what was I thinking? Well, I made it out alive, having pretty much used up gift cards from my mother and the owner of my company. I scored a nice black vest, a pepper grinder to match the salt grinder I bought with last year's card from my boss, a BIG jar of peppercorns, a new throw to cover my ugly couch and some socks. Merry Christmas to me. The remaining $8 on my "Jenney's" card will have to wait for another day, as I couldn't stand one more minute in that crowd.


Saturday, the Day After the Day After Christmas: aside from a couple of trips to feed the work cats, I didn't leave the house. Nor did I shower or change out of what passes for my "pajamas." It was nice.


Sunday, the Day After...ah, I give up: Fed the cats, went to church, stopped at the grocery store for sundried tomatoes, made my "famous" hot, cheesy dip and went to readers' club (where my blog identity was revealed to the room at large, so...hi there, readers, if you're reading). There was LOTS of food, and I ended up taking about half the dip home. On the plus side--I got to take half of the cheesy goodness home! On the minus side--I had to take half of the cheesy badness home. Heh.


And...I guess that's it. Would you like a quick bachelor update? I thought you would.


Guy #1 (the "you have too many cats" guy) and I are having a lovely little pen pal friendship. It's kind of fun getting to know someone with the pressure off. There's no "will we or won't we," as I know we won't...so, we're just chatting. He might even come to my church some Sunday.


Guy #2--the outright lunatic. Peppered me with additional pleas to consider his wooing, including one missive which assured me that he was a good risk, as he has remained friends with ALL his exes, "except for that one crazy in Colorado last summer." Ha! I ignored the emails, and I guess he showed me! Yesterday he informed me that he was now interested in someone else, and SHE is not only interested in him, but she's going to let him come over and fix her jacuzzi. Well, looks like I sure lost out there, huh?


Guy #3--the "love poetry" guy. Well, his response to my (perhaps too honestly) saying that I would probably post unsolicited erotica on my blog was short and sweet: "Merry Christmas and have a good 2009." Okay, dude...I certainly hope to.


I had a tentative date for dinner or a movie tonight with Obama Guy, but apparently it was even more tentative than I thought, as I haven't heard from him since he assured me via email a couple of days ago that he would be in touch to discuss details. Umm...dude...you're running out of time. The smart money says that he calls me around 8:00 tonight to see if I'm ready to make plans. The smarter money says I'm no Rules Girl, but that's WAY too late to begin the date planning. Sigh. For the record, I don't think he's intentionally playing any games...he just operates on a different time continuum than I do. Guess working the overnight shift most nights messes with your concept of appropriate "start" times.


I had a couple of messages from additional guys on "Flentyofpish," but I'm not planning to respond to either of them. At least not positively. Though I kind of really want to respond to "Kiss me and then act like you dont want to kiss me again" with "Dude! Has this EVER worked?" Probably best to just leave it where it lays though. Lord have mercy on the single girl.

I might be a wee bit depressed.

I fell asleep on the couch last night pretty early, then woke up around midnight, wide awake, as usual. I stayed on the couch for a couple of hours catching up with Rachel and Keith, since I had rudely fallen asleep on them earlier, and at one point, I thought I heard something outside. However, since I was at the time trapped beneath a living blanket of kitty flesh, I waited for my show to be over, then got up to move to the bed and take a peek outside to see what was up.

There it was, in the road--the lifeless body of a small animal. "Please don't let it be Dolly!" It wasn't, thank goodness, but it was the big orange stray I've seen in and around my yard occasionally, and whom I've always suspected to be related in some way to Dolly and her kittens. I carried him into my yard, wrapped him in a plastic bag, and laid him in the flower bed until the morning, when I could call dead animal pickup. (Wrong time of year to try and bury him in that cold, frozen ground.)

Then I went to bed and started crying. It all seems so futile sometimes...you use the gifts and tools God gave you to cobble together an existence the best you can...and then, for all your pains, you end up dead in the middle of the road, in the middle of the cold, cold night.

Yeah...maybe a tad depressed.

Don't worry, though...the world didn't seem QUITE so bleak come morning. (Does it ever?) The holidays are nearly here and gone. 2008 is nearly gone, and 2009 has got to be better, right? I've got rehearsals starting soon...things will be looking up. The foolishly eternal optimist in me stubbornly refuses to admit defeat. Heh.

So, what else is going on? Well, I've been in the midst of another little flurry of online male attention. I've talked to 3 guys in the last few days. (Plus Obama Guy came to church on Sunday morning to hear me sing...I still think we're destined just to be friends, though.) So, am I optimistic about any of these guys? Not so much.

We've got Guy #1--smart, rabid environmentalist, seems to be a decent guy, but can't get past my many cats. Just can't. Keeps apologizing for it. Eh, I tell him...it happens. Big props for admitting it straight out and not just pulling the old disappearing act. We're still communicating...I think we might become very casual friends. I'm cool with that--we hadn't met in person yet, so I have no reason to think there would have been the necessary physical "spark" anyway, right?

Guy #2--I think he might be certifiably insane. He's done some interesting things, been some interesting places, really REALLY wants to meet me, but...he gave me his number on Friday. I told him I wasn't sure how my weekend would play out, but if I got a chance, I'd call. I got busy and didn't call, but was planning to Monday night. Then I got a very curt email message Monday afternoon suggesting I jump in the ice-cold river. Literally. That was the whole message. I responded with a "well, I WAS planning to call you tonight, but I won't be able to, with my fingers so cold from the icy water." (Hee.) Since then he's been apologizing nonstop, trying to explain how he's just become so jaded from his online experiences, pleading that he's not really like that, and if I would only agree to meet in person, so I could see what a wonderful person he is...blah, blah, blah. Nuts, right? I told him I wasn't comfortable exploring anything further with someone who would so quickly and harshly respond to a potential slight. He's still trying to persuade me. Umm...whatever, dude.

Guy #3--tall, nice-looking, seems smart enough...but wants to know if I would enjoy being sent poetic "erotic stories" from potential suitors, as apparently he's had "mixed reactions" to this in the past. My short answer? "No." My longer answer? Involved also telling him I would most likely post snippets of any such "stories" received on my blog, for the amusement of my friends. Heh.

I know, I know...you're all upset with me for tipping my hand before I got the love poetry to share with you. My apologies.

Alert readers may be wondering what happened to the "Male Me." Well, join the club...he disappeared into the ether, and I have absolutely NO idea why. Asshole. (Unless he's dead...in which case I'm very sorry for calling him an asshole. Don't take that out on my karma, please, universe.)

That's about all that's going on. I have been and still am dealing with car repairs (NO fun, the week before Christmas--goodbye, Christmas bonus), so I think my family may come here on Christmas Day, for the first time ever. Don't know how that will go. I'm trying to imagine us all comfortably enjoying a meal in my tiny house, with its limited seating...maybe we'll just eat out. What's open on Christmas, anyway?

I did receive a nice package of goodies from New Guy today. I got a little misty, until I opened the card. "Fondly, New Guy." FONDLY? I know he is trying not to lead me on in any way, but geez. For the record, I boldly signed HIS card, "Love, Liz." Heh. Still, it's nice to know he still thinks of me. FONDLY.

I knew it would happen eventually.

I'm disappointed in President-Elect Barack Obama. Rick Warren? Really? What, was Fred Phelps not available?

Okay, a bit harsh, but...look, I get the inclusiveness thing. I do. And for the most part, I'm in agreement with Obama's approach, but asking someone who has publicly compared homosexuals to pedophiles to give the invocation at what is possibly the most historic inauguration in history? It smacks to me of the worst sort of pandering to the religious right, and haven't we done enough pandering to them the last 8 years?

You want inclusive? How about Archbishop Desmond Tutu? (I will confess here to having a teeny bit of a crush on Des--he's adorable AND inspiring. It's irresistible. I saw him speak in person once, and let me tell you...goodness just FLOWS out of him. And yet, he's wonderfully self-deprecating and funny.) He knows all about inclusion and history-making.

Or hey, how about a WOMAN? Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori, right there at the National Cathedral. She knows from inclusion and history, too.

Okay, clearly I have a preference for Episopalians and mitre hats, but...how about Jim Wallis, author of "God's Politics"? He's got a lot of good stuff to say.

Well, I could go on, but what's the point? I'll just stick my fingers in my ears at that point of the ceremony and do a little "la, la, la." I guess I could throw a shoe towards the screen. Maybe a six-inch red patent leather drag queen pump. Heh.

The more things change...

So, I'm now reading "A People's History of the United States" by Howard Zinn. Have you all read this? Why not? Go and get it now. It should be required reading.

I was struck this morning by this passage: Around the same time (1730s), in New York, an election pamphlet urged New York voters to join "Shuttle" the weaver, "Plane" the joiner, "Drive" the carter, "Mortar" the mason, "Tar" the mariner, "Snip" the tailor, "Smallrent" the fair-minded landlord, and "John Poor" the tenant, against "Gripe the Merchant, Squeeze the Shopkeeper, Spintext and Quible the Lawyer." Hey--where's "Joe" the plumber?

Seriously, though...everyone needs to hear the "unsanitized" version of history at some point, don't you think, as they're blissfully celebrating Columbus Day, for example?

In other news, it is cold here. We've had a little ice, we've had a little snow....we've HAD IT. Yes, I am thankful we're not suffering more ice storm-related power outages (and feeling great empathy for all the people in the northeast who are), and I'm thankful we're not in single digits or worse, but...it's not even winter yet, technically. Bah.

I'll probably never be an Orthodox Jew

Or a Muslim, raised by Sufis in Morocco. I'll certainly never be a conjoined twin. I didn't live through the Dust Bowl, or endure the hardships of rural life in the previous century. I don't know how many people I'll meet in heaven, or if I'll ever live in another country.

But I have experienced all these things, through the magical power of literature! It always amazes me to hear people say, "Oh, I don't read." Or even, "I only read NON-fiction." What's wrong with these people, I ask you? (I know I'm pretty much preaching to the choir here. Heh.) What riches they're missing. And to you non-fiction only readers, here's a tip: something doesn't have to be strictly "true" to be full of "truths." (See, for example: the Bible. Sorry, fundamentalists.)

So, what am I getting at here? Well, this is my rambling and round-about way of saying that last week in the mail I received my free (in exchange for reviewing it on my blog) copy of "Who By Fire," by Diana Spechler, thanks to Lara of Red Red Whine fame. (Thanks, Lara and Diana!) I continued racing through "The Girls" (see above re: conjoined twins) and then dived into it.

And the verdict? Thumbs up.

Basically, the story is of a nominally Jewish family, struggling to deal with the tragic disappearance of a 6-year-old child, some 13 years earlier. The family members have reacted to the loss in widely varying ways; the remaining daughter, Bits, is very promiscuous, while the son, Ash, has immersed himself completely into Orthodox Judaism, going so far as to enroll in a yeshiva in Israel. The father has abandoned the family, and the mother has resisted all attempts to convince her to "move on," a process made more difficult by the fact that Alena's body was never found.

Until, finally, it seems...it has been. The mother tells Bits that Alena's remains have been found, and lays upon her the responsibility for bringing her brother home from Israel, where, she is convinced, he has become a member of a cult. And off the story goes.

I won't spoil any more of the plot, but let's just say that, while their lives are not neatly tied up in little bows, the ending does leave you with a feeling of hope, that these people just might be able to move forward to happier, healthier lives.

It's a very good read (I actually stayed up pretty late last night finishing off the remaining chapters), but also...it made me think. (Gasp!) About the sometimes blurry line between "religious community" and "cult." How overly strict adherence to religious dogma can leave you neither "holy" nor "whole." How guilt can consume and paralyze. The dangers of attempting to fill a hole in unhealthy ways. And here's a line straight from the book: "Here's what happens when you try to rescue someone. You find out you're the one who need rescuing."

Summation? I found it both entertaining and thought-provoking, and I look forward to reading more from this author.

As, indeed, I look forward to a lifetime of more reading, period. 'Cause, seriously, "I don't read"? Can't get behind that.

The contents of my brain

I'm just going to spew little bits of this and that. So as not to offend your delicate sensibilities, I will put it in the form of a bulleted list, which, while lazy, will at least be easier to read than one ginormous run-on paragraph. Which is sort of how my brain feels sometimes.

In no apparent order:

• I went to a party this weekend (happy birthday, George), and took a hot, cheesy dip that will now be my standard party offering, I think. I've had trouble coming up with a "signature" dish for this purpose--and I've tried such labor-intensive things as homemade potato salad and hand-rolled tamales--but this one fits the bill. I think if we had not been in (relatively) polite society, someone might have licked the dish. And it was so easy! (Goat cheese, cream cheese, shredded parmesan/asiago/romano blend and minced sundried tomatoes. Mix well and bake. You're welcome. Make a lot.) George is now old enough to run for president, and promises to make me the Minister of Cheese. Or the Cheese Czar.
• May I just respectfully ask Illinois Governor Blagojevich to go f*ck himself? What a douchebag.
• How 'bout them Sooners? Now, I'm not the biggest OU football fan in the world, by any means. I don't have a "Boomer Sooner" ringtone on my cellphone or anything, but if I'm home and a game's on and I don't have anything more pressing to do, I'll watch. And this season has been fun to watch--I love a good offense. Defensive battles just make me nervous. "Score, somebody, for the love of god, score!" Give me a nice big blowout every time. If that makes me a poor sport, too bad. The Sooners set all kinds of records with their offense this year, so...whoo hoo!
• Do your hands look like they belong to a lizard? Every winter my hands suffer from extreme dryness. (Damn the handwashing!) I've tried any number of lotions and creams, to little avail. You know what helps? Plain old petroleum jelly. Just lather it on several times a day. I guess I was always leery of doing this during the day for fear it would leave my hands feeling too greasy, but you know what? It doesn't. It soaks right in. After two days my hands look and feel better than they have in years.
• For the record, I consider myself a liberal, and despite what the media would have you believe, we're NOT all outraged at Obama's cabinet picks. I never thought he was all that liberal, despite what Limbaugh and his ilk would have us think, and I always expected that he would govern as a centrist and a pragmatist. It's what he said he would do. And I'm okay with that. I trust that he will guide us further left than where we've been for the last 8 years, and, given the major, major problems this country is currently facing, I think the center is the place to start. It took both sides of the aisle to get this f*cked up, and it will take both sides of the aisle to fix things. I reserve the right, of course, to be unhappy with him later, if it comes to that, but for now, I think he's doing just fine. Plus he's brilliant. I'm going to take comfort in that for a while.
• This Saturday is the crazy cat ladies' Christmas lunch. I will have boatloads of Christmas spirit for those couple of hours. I also very much enjoyed filling a couple of stockings for the elderly clients of a local senior service agency. I just can't quite seem to keep the spirit going. I have a theory: Christmas is magical when you're a child. The magic fades with time, though there are certainly always flashes of it, but it never truly returns until you have children of your own. And if you don't have children, well...then you have to settle for the flashes. That is harder some times than others. And hardest of all when you live alone. That's my theory. You may feel free to disagree.
• My local ABC affiliate preempted last week's "Pushing Daisies" to air an Oak Ridge Boys Christmas special. I did not know this until I sat down to watch it a couple of nights ago (I had recorded it, and was even staying spoiler-free by not reading the TWoP recap). WTF? You bastards, just because it's been cancelled doesn't mean that some of us don't want to savor every little scrap that's left! Argh.
• We've had a couple of read-through/walk-throughs for the play, and now we adjourn until after the holidays. I think it's a great cast, and is going to be great fun.
• I saw the dog formerly known as Wiley the Terrible (while at the aforementioned birthday party) and he pretended that he still remembered me. Maybe he still does (which Julie his owner insists must be true). And maybe I'm just the only fool sticking my head in his face and encouraging him to kiss me. Heh.
• My boss is in love. With the sweet tabby kitty mentioned in the last post. IN LOVE. He can't take him home for fear of upsetting his wife and their two snippy female cats, but he's quite smitten. He even gave him a work-related name, similar to the one given to the Cat Formerly Known as Lil Mama. It's very funny. He's not been around cats much previously, and he didn't have any idea they could be so affectionate. ("He's like a dog!") The one good thing about having [scary number redacted] cats is that you really get to experience the full spectrum of cat personalities. They're so...varied.
• I've been dreaming about some of my past pets lately. I think this may be because the current commercial for "Befreze" candles features a dog that is the spitting image (actually, no...it's the mirror image) of the first dog I had as an "adult." (I was in college when I got her, so...technically a grown-up, but....) Mo lived a good, long life and was maybe the smartest, funniest dog in history. The BFF insists that she had extra facial muscles, 'cause she could pull a look like no other dog ever could. Anyway, if you see the fuzzy black-and-white terrier mix in the "Befreze" candle commercial...I think they somehow cloned my dead dog! And I want her back!
• The Cat Formerly Known, etc. is QUITE put out by the new kitty, by the way. He's invaded HER turf, and she is not happy. I've tried to reassure her that she is still the alpha, and right now she's sleeping peacefully on my desk, but...there has been some hissing and spitting. Keeps the work day lively!
• Today is the one-year anniversary of the Great Ice Storm of Ought-Seven. Man, oh man, keep that icy stuff away from us this year, please. Our trees can't take another hit like that. Not to mention our psyches.
• I think we've decided to keep the gift-giving in my family limited to small, stocking stuffer things. My suggestion, actually. Since we'd pretty much devolved into a wholesale gift card exchange, anyway...what the heck. Keep your money and buy yourself something, if you want. I'd like to tuck my Christmas bonus away into savings this year, personally. (What's left after I neuter Pete the Kitten, that is.) This economy worries me.
• I haven't heard a peep from the Male Me. I really can't figure him out. Gah. And I know, if I give in and call him, that he will return the call promptly and act like talking to me is the most fun thing ever. He just never INITIATES the call. What's that about?
• My Christmas cacti are starting to bloom. Right on schedule.
• Knowing that my books are once again shelved alphabetically is very comforting to me. Probably TOO comforting. But sometimes giving in to the OCD just feels nice. Like when I occasionally grab some paper towels and let myself scrub the dried soap dribbles off the sink in a public restroom--aahhhh. Better. (I only do this in PRIVATE public restrooms. Can't let anyone else see the extent of the crazy!)
• I've been missing New Guy a lot lately. Which is sort of ironic, since we NEVER spent any holidays together--he was always off with his kids. But I guess I knew the trip would end, and then he'd come back, and now? This particular trip isn't going to end. I suppose that's why I'm sad. Sigh.
• I really should wrap this up (are you still reading? good for you), and I refuse to end on that sad note, so...I woke up this morning to find Pete the Kitten snuggling next to me on the bed. It's the first time that's happened--he generally prefers the company of the other cats, so...yay! Not that I NEED another cat on the bed, but maybe there's hope for his socialization yet.

Congratulations! You made it through the drivel. Don't let anyone tell you you haven't accomplished something today. Hee.

This five-day week is crawling.

Shouldn't it be time for a weekend already? Sigh.

Sorry to end the last post on a downer note, but...sometimes it just is what it is. I mean, I loves me a four-day weekend, and it's always good to be pleasantly busy while not feeling overloaded, and some alone time is a good and necessary thing, but...sometimes I want to go out to eat or crash on the couch WITH somebody. A special somebody, you know? In some ways it's particularly hard to be single during the holidays, especially when you've reached the age where the vast majority of your friends are encoupled, or have children, or both. You can't just call someone up to do something on the spur of the moment when their lives are necessarily complicated by the schedules of others. So...it is what it is. I'm used to it, but sometimes it makes me a little sad, and last weekend was one of those times. Moving on...

No news to report on the dating front. The Male Me has me completely confused. We still haven't met, and I'm not sure why. When we do talk, said conversations generally instigated by me, we have very lively discussions, he tells me how great he thinks I am, says he wants to get together/talk again soon....and then I don't hear from him for a few days. I know he's dealing with an ailing mother and a new job, but I can't help but think that if he REALLY wanted to meet, it would have happened by now. So, for now at least, I think I need to cross him off the list of possibilities.

I still have sporadic contact with Obama Guy, but I just don't get the feeling there's any romantic possibility there. He did offer to make me dinner at his house some night soon, but...I think we'll just be political buddies. And even if I was feeling overwhelming romantic chemistry, his work/school schedule is a bit insane. I'm not sure when we'd ever see each other. Plus he wants to move to another part of the country when he finishes school in a few months, and I'll be damned if I'll get emotionally attached again to a guy who's not sticking around.

Of course, I could wink back at the ultra-conservative guy with bad grammar and spelling who used to enjoy spending time with "friends and family but lost them and i am left all alone. No drama here and not looking for it." What does that mean, exactly? He lost ALL of his friends and family? Dude, what did you DO? I think that's a "no, thanks" for me.

We had our first rehearsal for the play last night, and I think it's going to be great fun. Unfortunately (for me, at least), we're not really getting into rehearsals until after the holidays, but it's something to look forward to. Which I am.

My workplace, like my home, is being taken over by stray cats. Turns out if you cut a couple of kitty doors for your official work cat, word gets out and soon you have plenty of unofficial cats roaming your warehouse, as well. Most of them are just neighborhood opportunists, I think, looking for a free meal. One big orange fellow is pretty much a fixture--he's definitely wild, and possibly a littermate of the kitty formerly known as Lil' Mama, who now has a work-related name that I won't reveal here. And two days ago a stray showed up who is breaking my heart. He is the SWEETEST THING EVER, a big brown tabby with comically large feet, and I MUST FIND HIM A REAL HOME. THAT ISN'T MINE. Anyone interested? I'll tie a big bow around his neck and everything. Heh.

Lazy post-Thanksgiving post

I know that over-reliance on bulleted lists is a sure sign of a lazy, unmotivated blogger. So, here we go!

How I spent my long weekend:

• Drove to my sister's house for Thanksgiving lunch with the family. Ate too much, as per usual. Resisted taking home pie, as per usual. Had a raging craving for pie several hours later, as per usual. Pleasant, uneventful.
• Organized my bookshelves on Friday. Was in pain for two days afterwards. So many books. So much lifting and carrying. So much bending over and crouching. So much dusting and alphabetizing and...if you can believe it, actually setting aside a large number of books to be given to charity. I haven't willingly let go of a book since...well, ever. But I was completely out of shelf space, so out went most of the science fiction books from a college phase, and the "historical romance" books from junior high. All the Anne Rice--gone. (Kept the Stephen King, though.) Oh, don't worry...I still have PLENTY left to read. Heh.
• Crashed on the couch for what was left of Friday.
• Cleaned the house on Saturday morning, treated myself to an Indian lunch buffet (where one of the sharply-dressed phalanx of waiters had the great decency to at least pretend to flirt with me), and then braved a trip to Big Box Mart for $100 of essential...crap. I guess everyone else bought their crap during the potentially lethal (seriously, what is with people?) doorbuster hours, 'cause the place was the least crowded it's ever been on a Saturday afternoon. (What qualifies as "essential crap," you're asking? Cat litter, cat food, cat treats, shower curtain liner, water pitcher purification filter, motor oil, duct tape, 9v battery, cheap clunky black shoes...you know, "crap.")
• Crashed on the couch for what was left of Saturday.
• Watched both "A Diva's Christmas Carol" and "Ebbie"--thank you, Lifetime Television for Women and Gay Men! Those are my favorites!
• Made two trips per day to the office to feed/check on work cat, who repaid me by attempting to skewer my leg with her claws to keep me from leaving. Poor baby. (For the record, she has been inside ALL DAY today, basking in the glow of human companionship. Either that or a soft comfy chair.)
• Sang at church Sunday morning. Made Cute Church Guy's mother cry. (In a good way.)
• Crashed on the couch for what was left of Sunday.
• Ate leftovers.
• Was lonely.

That's all I've got, folks.

Yay!

I am cast in the play. Whoo hoo! We'll be having a really light rehearsal schedule for the first few weeks, so it won't occupy ALL my time, but will definitely give me a focus and an outlet. I am most pleased. (Thank you, Julie, for not keeping me in suspense.)

In other news, I actually talked to Male Me a couple of times yesterday. I decided that, since I couldn't email him (due to his profile being removed) in response to his "I hope you're not offended..." email, I would just leave him a quick little voicemail assuring him that I was in no way offended, that I wished him and his family well, and he should feel free to get back in touch whenever he felt like he could.

Which was, apparently, about four hours after I left the message. He just had to call, he said, "because your message was so sweet and sincere...and somehow also funny--how do you do that?" Well, Male Me, that's sort of me in a nutshell. Heh. We talked for a while, and then again for a while after callbacks...talking to me lightened his mood, he said. Awww....

Of course, we still haven't MET, so I don't know if he'll pass the "physical chemistry" test (or if I will, for him), to say nothing of the "stubby fingers test" (hee), so...verdict still out, but he at least seems somewhat...captivated. Which does feel good, I must tell you, for someone who was rejected out-of-hand by the entire speed-dating community. (Okay, I know it was only those particular seven guys, but who doesn't love some good hyperbole? I know I love it more than anything else in the whole world!)

And in other news...well, there is no other news, really, except we all got free turkeys at work today. What does a vegetarian do with a free turkey, you ask? She gives it to her parents, as usual, and wonders why that vendor can't give out free broccoli-rice casserole or something. Hee.

So, what's been going on the last few days, you're asking? Dealing with any more rejection?

Well, no. Not YET, at any rate.

Since I last posted, I:

• Had dinner with one of my college roommates. Great fun! We rarely see each other, as he lives on the west coast, but when we do...it's like not a day has passed. I miss my college friends.
• Received my official "you have no matches, BUT we're happy to inform you that your next speed-dating event is on us" email from the speed-dating people. I have been strictly forbidden (by the BFF) to take them up on this offer. Oh, silly BFF...doesn't he know that forbidding someone to do something is pretty much ensuring that there is nothing more in the world they will want to do than that which has been forbidden? Heh.
• Auditioned for a play. Callbacks are tonight. Cross your fingers for me. I NEED some sort of outlet right now, as the holidays, lonely and sans New Guy (or, you know, an even newer new guy), loom. Plus, it looks like a very fun play. And I haven't worked with this particular director in a while. (She reads my blog sometimes, so...hi, Julie! Cast me!)
• Organized an outing for a few of us after auditions, to my favorite Vietnamese vegetarian restaurant. I talked everyone into ordering from the back page of the menu (far, far from the "sweet-and-sour" section) and everyone agreed that the "crack noodles" are indeed the best thing ever. I have hope for the future of our nation. (Hee!)
• Sent a very brief "hope you're well" email to the Male Me. He replied with a very nice "I haven't forgotten about you, but I'm completely distracted/occupied with work and family, and I plan to call you again...someday" email...then promptly took his profile down. Hmm. Not too promising in the short term, for sure.
• Attended a readers' club meeting. My pile of borrowed books is now looming large, and I hope the allure of unread treasures will help me break my still-ongoing MSNBC addiction. Not that I intend to completely break up with Keith and Rachel, but...books are good, too.
• Discovered a drawback to turning a previously feral cat who hunted her own food into an office cat with kitty-door access to our warehouse: guess who has to has to clean up her culinary "treasures" regularly? This morning I had to scoop up an entire, gnawed-on...carcass of some sort (chicken? rabbit?) that looked like it had, at some point, been buried in the mud. Ick. (It was also very large. I don't know how the hell she got it through that tiny cat door with only her mouth.) There have also been several unfortunate members of the rodent and bird families. I know all about the "circle of life"--I just don't like seeing it played out so close to home.
• Started watching as many cheesy holiday-themed movies as possible. In case there's another ice storm this year, and my cable goes out again, I don't want my minimum requirement of festive pap to go unfulfilled yet again. Last night I watched the first half of "Snow Globe"--wherein a young woman goes magically into the world of a Christmas snow globe each evening. I want to go to Snow Globe Land--it's so festive and colorful! Sadly, I fell asleep and missed the ending, but I'm pretty sure it all worked out, and she pleased both herself and her overbearing family by falling in love with the new guy next door, leaving the cheerful inhabitants of the snow globe to celebrate Christmas all year long, complete with roast goose and yams from their adorable magic oven.

That's about it. I'm looking forward to the upcoming long weekend, aren't you?

The ultimate humiliation

I received NO speed-dating matches. Now, it's not like I felt any particular spark with any of them, but still...not ONE of those losers wanted to get to know me? How nice for my ego.

My friend, on the other hand, was contacted by all but one of them... the one holdout, of course, being the one she really wanted. The true irony here is that I only went because she didn't want to go alone, and I was being a good friend. See where that gets me? Rejected by losers.

I'm also remembering what it was like to go out dancing with this particular friend, "back in the day." Now, mind you, this is far enough "back" that I, too, was pretty smokin' hot, but still...she ALWAYS got asked to dance, first and most often. One night, she and I and another friend went out, and agreed that the one asked to dance first would be bought a shot by the other two, with the caveat that the two "losers" would get to pick the shot. She was asked right away, of course, and demanded her winning shot. So, with her out of earshot, we went to the bar and asked the bartender, what's the nastiest shot you can think of? "A Prairie Fire," came the answer. And what's in that? "Equal parts tequila and tabasco." Perfect! She slammed it down, got a hilarious (to us) look on her face, and just managed to croak out, "What WAS that?"

Of course, being uber-popular at a bar isn't always without its own punishment. She was purchased shots and drinks by so many guys attempting to impress her that she finished the evening puking in the backseat of her own car. Heh.

Another time, she was determined to show us that she, too, knew the sting of rejection. "I'm going to go ask some guy to dance that I KNOW will turn me down." She surveyed the scene, picked a guy who was literally knee-deep in girls clamoring for his attention, marched over, and asked him to dance. He said no, thanks. She came back, gloating a bit. "See? I get turned down sometimes." Fast forward five or ten minutes. Here comes the guy. "I feel so bad for saying no...would you like to dance?" Hee!

So, I guess what I'm saying is...I should have known not to go speed-dating with this friend! And, if I want to massage my own bruised ego a bit, I can tell myself that all the guys knew we were there together, and just didn't want to pick both of us, for fear that it might cause problems down the road. Yeah, that's it...if she hadn't been there, I'd have been the most popular girl in the room! (And yes, I know...denial is not a river in Egypt. Heh.)

Now, let me just say, it's hardly her fault that she's gorgeous AND outgoing and funny. And, truthfully, being the most popular girl at the ball doesn't always work out so well, long term. She's had a couple of really bad marriages, and is currently walking the challenging road of single motherhood with a precocious young daughter. I'm proud of the job she's doing, and I don't begrudge her the attention.

But couldn't ONE of those guys have picked me, too? Wah!

Quick update

For some reason I am irritable as all hell this afternoon. Maybe because I have been besieged with idiots today. Sigh.

To catch you up with my ever-so-exciting dating life:

• I have not yet come face-to-face with myself. Bachelor #1 had to go out-of-town over the weekend, and I didn't hear from him last night. I called him on my lunch hour, and it seems he came back from his trip to find that his elderly mother, who has Alzheimer's and a recently broken leg, is not doing at all well, and he needs to focus on that for a bit. Understandable. He insists that he still wants to meet, as soon as is feasible, but Mom comes first. As she should. So I don't know yet whether I like "myself." Heh.
• My friend and I went speed-dating last night. It was okay. Nothing spectacular. A couple of guys seemed maybe a little interesting, but I have no idea whether any of them had any interest in me, since the brand-spanking-new speed-dating coordinator hasn't yet completed her part of the equation, thus enabling us to all go online and indicate our match preferences. There were only 15 or so of us there, so I don't know what's taking her so long. (Add her to the list of idiots making me irritable today.) I'm not really emotionally invested in the outcome, to be sure...I just don't like people not doing their jobs quickly and efficiently. And my friend is going CRAZY asking me if I've heard anything yet. She must have liked someone more than she let on. Hee.
• I talked to New Guy for a quite a while after I got home last night. He's still dealing with the fall-out from his burglary. The insurance company wants a detailed list of serial numbers for the stolen items. Which information he kept carefully documented on his computer...which was stolen. Don't know how that will all sort out. He did discover how the thief got in, though...they came up and over his second-floor balcony and forced open the door to his bedroom. Nice.
• I'm a little discouraged that I got more enjoyment from listening to him talk about his insurance hassles than I did from my conversations with any of the seven guys at speed-dating. Sigh. Save me, Bachelor #1, save me! Please turn out to be wonderful in every way. (You know...like me. Heh.)

And he is me.

I spoke to Bachelor #1 on the phone last night, and...I think he's the male version of me. By which I mean he has all the same grammar peeves (including imply/infer), is partial to ellipses in casual writing, has the same fairly wide-ranging cultural knowledge (a Trivial Pursuit gauntlet has already been thrown down), knows he's smart, and is thrilled to meet someone who "gets" his references (including one to Lupe Velez, which I, of course, got instantly).

We'll probably meet in person sooner rather than later, but...I can't help but wonder (speaking of cultural references, here's a twofer)...what if it's like that Seinfeld episode where Jerry met his "female me," played by Janeane Garafalo, and while it was great for a while, he eventually realized..."I don't like myself."

Seriously, if we ended up together, would we turn out to be the most insufferable couple on the planet? Would some weird synergy have everyone around us saying "Oh, THOSE two, they think they know everything." To which we'd respond...what are you IMPLYING? Are we to INFER that you think there's something wrong with that? Hee.

I don't get how this works.

This online dating thing. Why do I go days and weeks without even a profile view, then get contacted by four guys all in the space of a single hour? I think maybe flentyofpish rotates the profiles around, and eventually you come back to the top, or something. That's all I can think of to explain my inbox yesterday.

So, yes...there might be some interesting new stories in the days to come. Or not. But I'm sure you're all tired of election-related blog posts, so I will spare you there. Though there is plenty I could say about Sa...no, never mind.

My inbox.

The first message came from a man who is actually articulate and funny! I know! He used the word "erudite" correctly! In a flentyofpish email! Am I done with the exclamation marks? Yes...I think so. But it was exciting. Heh. He seemed very impressed with MY profile, which only goes to further prove how intelligent he is, right?

Here's a snippet from his first email:

So nice to see an erudite profile with nary a "Me and him" to be found. If I see one more confusion over there/their/they're I may just lose all hope and curl up in a ball.

May I add, that your pic is pretty easy on the old peepers, as well.*

*Apparently I have morphed into some 1940's gumshoe tonight.

Seems promising, no? We have exchanged a couple more messages, and he doesn't get any less literate with time. Heh.

Then I received another, from a 62-year-old widower. At first it made me laugh out loud (though not in a good way), then it just made me want to cry. It did contain this little gem, though, which I think BFF and I will be using for some time to come:

"your profile stuck out at me like a thumb"

Bwaaaa! I think I snorted as I read it out loud to BFF. Then, sadly, the message became about his desire to not die all alone, completely friendless, and I just got sad. Not sad enough to go out with him, mind you, but sad nonetheless. There's just something very poignant about someone all alone, who never planned to be alone, but who is now trolling dating sites, trying to find someone interested in his offer to warm them up a quick bite at his apartment, then maybe search the internet or watch TV with him. Okay, as I type it out, it sounds as much creepy as poignant, but it really came across as sad to me. Maybe I'm just premenstrual.

Then came another message from a guy who I would probably find interesting if I wasn't already enamored with the literary stylings of Guy #1, so I think I'll put him on the back burner for a bit. He did make an appropriate "Deliverance" reference, so he gets bonus points for that.

And, last but not least, there was a simple winky emoticon from Guy #4, who, of course, is the one who I would find most attractive if I was going simply on looks. Which I'm not. Yet. I mean, EVER. Heh.

And, because it's always feast or famine around here, next week I'm going speed-dating with a friend. Only because she really wanted to go, but refused to do it alone. So, like a good wingwoman, I agreed to go, too. I've done it before a couple of times, and I found it equal parts painless and fruitless, but...what the heck. I agreed to do it, and I will.

That's about all the news from LizLand. Cross your fingers that maybe one of these guys will at least buy me a friggin' cup of coffee.

I'm glad it's over, but...

...what do I do with my time now, if I'm not checking pollster.com every hour? Heh.

Okay, a few impressions from Election Eve.

I met up with Obama Guy at one of the bigger watch parties downtown. Yes, despite the fact that I live in the Reddest State in the Country (and if you think I'm not depressed by that, well...you must be new here), there are a few of us here who are...in our left minds. Heh. (I refer to us now as the 33%ers.) It was nothing like being in Grant Park or Times Square, mind you, but there were at least 200-300 people there, and they were ready to party.

It got really exciting when the first East Coast returns started to come in, and then less so as the red states took the lead for a while, and then...well, was there not just the LONGEST span of time where NOTHING happened? At one point I remarked to Obama Guy that I needed SOME state to be called, somewhere, anywhere, or I was going to explode. Fortunately we had beer and pizza (thanks, generous guy named Mark who had the pizza delivered for us) to distract us a bit. Then it seemed like it just happened out of nowhere, really, didn't it? No itemized list of the states that had been called, just suddenly..."Barack Obama Projected Winner." And then pandemonium, of course. Hugging and crying and screaming.

We did a little dancing to "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" and I believe there was a conga line formed at one point. There was a lifetime cut-out of Barack onstage, and I was really hoping that someone might send him out crowd-surfing, but I was disappointed. Heh.

It didn't really feel completely real to me, until I saw John McCain pop up on the screen to give his concession speech, which I found very eloquent and gracious, and reminiscent of McCain v.2000. I will be honest and admit that the room did break into some light booing once--when he mentioned his running mate. Someone parroted Barack's diplomatic response to booing at his rallies: "Barack would say don't boo, just vote." To which, I confess, I responded "We already voted. We get to boo a little bit now!" (Sorry, I just CAN'T STAND that woman. And apparently I am not alone.) I might feel bad about this, except for the slight audible booing (more than once) from McCain's own crowd during his speech. Moving on.

It was time for the man himself to speak.

The most moving thing for me was watching the faces of the middle-aged and older African-Americans near me, as they cried along with Oprah and Jesse Jackson. Plenty of us paler folks were teary, too, of course...but knowing that some of these people lived through segregation in a truly personal way and were now seeing something most of them never thought would happen in their lifetimes...wow.

And, may I just say...Joe the Who now? Let's hear it for 106-year-old Ann Nixon Cooper! (I read an interview with her today, and, may I just point out that Barack's campaign called to let her know that he would be mentioning her prominently in his speech, and didn't just spring it on her like a certain someone did to a certain "plumber.")

I think my personal favorite moment was when a black woman nearby shared that her teen-aged son (hovering behind her all "oh man, don't embarrass me, Mom") had just told her that he couldn't wait to tell his own kids about it someday, and Mom gave the kid a look and said "now, let's not be in any hurry to start on those kids, okay?" Hee!

All in all, it was a beautiful night. A good night to be both a Democrat and a democrat.

So, I feel you wondering, did the beauty and emotion of the evening sweep over me and Obama Guy and carry us off in a blaze of passion? Well, no. We had a good time, I like him, there was a hug and a kiss on the cheek before we parted ways, but I'm not sure either of us is feeling particularly romantic at this point. I think we should try going out on a real, non-election-related date and see if we have anything left to talk about.

WHOO HOO!

I would like to summarize my feelings on yesterday's landslide victory, the moving and emotional watch party I attended, my hope for the future, but...all I can come up with right now is....SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!I'll try to be more articulate later.

I Voted

I decided to go before work this morning. It took about 25 minutes. That is approximately 24.75 minutes longer than it's ever taken before at this particular polling place. Go, democracy! Of course, seeing as how I'm in Oklahoma, reddest of the red states, none of my votes probably "mattered." But you know what? They "mattered" to me. I got a little thrill, connecting that broken line next to Obama/Biden. We're making history, one way or the other. Now I just have to hope it's the history I want. Heh.

Do you want to hear a sad story? I called New Guy last night to wish him happy birthday and see if he got his birthday present, and he was sitting in a daze in his apartment, waiting for the police to come. No sign of forced entry, but somehow someone got in and took ALL his electronic devices, including his computer and his son's xbox and playstation. Plus a power tool or two. ON HIS BIRTHDAY! I suspect his apartment management. Or the UPS man who delivered his birthday present, or both. Really, wouldn't that be a hideously ingenious plan? A crooked UPS man hooks up with a crooked apartment manager and wipes out the tenants? They'd have built-in alibis for why they were hanging around the apartment, and a tailor-made getaway truck. Who'd even give a second glance to a UPS man carrying boxes? I'm very sad for New Guy. Fortunately, he's insured, but it still sucks. And if the UPS guy was involved, then I feel really, really bad, since the UPS guy was there delivering MY gift to him. Some days you can't catch a break.

I think I'll be attending a watch party tonight. I would say "with" Obama Guy, but since we'll probably just meet there, I don't think it counts as a date.

I've pretty much cleared the man queue again, otherwise. I've decided, too, that I need to clear up something in my online profile, assuming any of these last few guys even took the time to READ it. "Politically progressive" does not mean "I encourage redneck ultra-conservatives to contact me." Maybe I need to change my online name to "Lizzy Liberal" or something.

And a Happy Halloween to you

So, let's talk for a minute about that reprehensible ad Elizabeth Dole is running in North Carolina, accusing her (Christian) opponent of being a "godless American." I find it reprehensible on two fronts: a) she's flagrantly lying about her opponent, a lie she knows will carry particular weight in that part of the country, and b) so what if her opponent WERE an atheist? Is this not still America? Do we not have the right to believe or disbelieve as we choose? Are atheists not entitled to equal rights and representation under the law? Aarggh!

I say this as a church-going Christian--I have friends who are atheists! Even worse--I have dated Muslims! One of which was an Iranian! There now, I've probably ruined any chance I had of running for national office. (Well, any chance I had left after all the drugs I did in the 80s.) What a relief. Now the pressure is off. Heh.

Okay, let's move away from the political aspects of the ad, and on to what really caught my attention. Before I actually saw the ad, I heard it described on TV, blah blah blah, ending with a disembodied female voice declaring "There is no God." You're supposed to believe, of course, that it is the voice of Dole's opponent.

Any die-hard "Arrested Development" fans in the house? The rest of this is for you.

Remember the episode where the Bluths took part in the "living art" pageant (much like the one in Stars Hollow that featured our Gilmore girls)? George (on a one-day furlough from prison) portrayed God giving the spark of life to Adam (a denim cut-offs-clad George Michael, embarrassed by the size of his codpiece-hee) in Michelangelo's "The Creation of Adam." Only George took the opportunity to try to escape and when the curtains were drawn back--God was missing. Remember the wonderful older character actress proclaiming, with just the perfect amount of horror and melodrama, "THERE IS NO GOD!"? (It may have been the best line delivery ever, in my opinion.)

How funny would it have been if they had simply lifted that little audio clip for the hateful Liddy Doenges ad? (Not funny enough to make up for the ad's very existence, mind you, but still.)

Sadly, I saw the actual ad last night, and they did not. Their "there is no God" actress had nowhere near the delivery of Wonderful Older Character Actress.

Great, now I'm missing "Arrested Development" AND pissed off at sleazy politicians. Thanks, Liddy.

I am ready for this election to be over. I might go to an election night watch party, though...with Obama Guy, who has resurfaced, to some extent. We'll see.

Happy Halloween, everyone! I'm thinking of curling up on the couch tonight and watching something terrifying...like maybe a Palin rally. Eeeeeeek!

Snippets

So, what's been going on in my life? Nothing major, I assure you. Let's bullet it.

• Have been watching MSNBC obsessively, with cautious optimism.
• Am fielding a sudden flurry of renewed interest from men on "flentyofpish." Here's a juicy nugget from an email: "Hi, my name is Billy. You are very attractive. I want to spend my time making love to you." I really, really wanted to email back: "Don't you have a job?" or "How much of your time? 'Cause my schedule's a little crowded." But I didn't. I also did not respond to a second inquiry from the man "in a loveless marriage." I have chatted a bit with some other guys--nothing too exciting so far. It does do my ego some slight bit of good to keep getting told I'm "hot," though. Heh.
• Heard from Obama Guy today. He wants to get together and "catch up." I said fine, call me. What the hell, right?
• Heard on the radio this morning that a well-known evolutionary biologist will be in town giving a lecture in a few days, "Our Inner Fish." I am thinking of telling the McCain Supporter that if he truly wants to see me again, he will go to that lecture with me. Hee! (Our "creationism" v. "evolution" discussion was actually sparked by something I said about humans no longer having gills. Him: "What?!")
• "Crairie Pome Hompanion" was great fun. Two hours plus, with only a five-minute intermission, but it sped by. Glad I went!
• I was afraid I might not be able to go anywhere over the weekend, as I was nursing the tail-end of what was apparently a nasty little intestinal bug I picked up somewhere. I felt okay, unless or until I was so foolish as to attempt to actually put food into my stomach, each such attempt being rewarded with literally gut-wrenching stomach spasms. It lasted 3-4 days and was NO FUN. So, I just didn't eat on Saturday, and made it through the show fine. Those two pre-show mimosas were just JUICE, right? Heh.
• I sent a little birthday care package off to New Guy in Texas. I miss him. Still. Damn it!
• I attended a readers' club gathering yesterday, and came home with an armful of big, thick, juicy-looking borrowed books. (And a stomach full of soup and bread and cheese.) Yay! (This is especially good since I've been making myself stay away from the bookstores with those dangerous 30% coupons.)
• I've developed a really, really tacky theory about why a certain vice-presidential candidate needs an $11,000/week makeup artist AND refuses to release her medical records. Want to hear it? Well...let's just say...can you say "she-male"? Hee. (I said it was tacky.) Seriously though, $11,000 a WEEK? What the hell is underneath that spackle?!
• And, not belaboring the political discussion, but...I really don't understand how people can look at the two campaigns--one, by all accounts, the most effective, disciplined, well-organized ever conducted, one a complete chaos of money shortfalls (dating back to the primaries), staff turnovers, back-biting, in-fighting, confused messages and ridiculous "expenses"--and not think there might be some correlation to how the country might be run!?
• "Pete the Kitten" is still at my house. And he wants to know if you're going to raise his taxes. Hee. (No, he doesn't. He wants to know if he can have some of what you're eating.)

That's all I've got.

TGIF

I'm tired, I'm half-sick, but today is my monthly "early day," so I'll be scooting home soon. Thank goodness.

AND, I'll be in the audience tomorrow as "Crairie Pome Hompanion" airs live from Tulsa, so if you're listening...well, I'll be in the audience. It's not like you'll be able to tell. Heh.

Have good weekends, everyone.

Clear something up for me.

I'm hardly an expert on economics. Accounting/business was pretty much the only department I completely avoided in my college days. Okay, that and industrial technology. Heh.

So...maybe I'm just dumb. But how is an "economic stimulus payment" for the lower and middle classes, one of which we all received a few months ago and another of which is currently being discussed, any different, really, than a tax cut for the lower and middle class, such as the one being proposed by Barack Obama? In one scenario we get the money back after it's been paid into the system; in the other, we just don't pay it into the system in the first place. Right?

So why is one characterized as good for the economy, while the other is being labeled as "class warfare," "socialism" and "welfare"? The goal is the same, isn't it? Getting badly-needed funds into the hands of the people who will put it most directly back into the economy (trickling up, instead of down, which it seems to me is good for everyone)?

It all seems like political spin and semantics to me. It's making my brain hurt. The ignorance and intolerance I'm seeing expressed by "real" people out there are making my heart hurt. And I am so, so tired. November 4th can't come soon enough for me, come what may.

Now, this is just my opinion, but...in MY opinion, anyone uttering the words "he wants nuclear energy to be safe," should NOT invest the word "safe" with a great deal of derision and contempt, lest he risk making himself look like a crazy man. And no, I'm not talking about any of my recent dates. Just something I noticed McCain said in both the last two debates. My god! Obama wants nuclear energy to be SAFE! What kind of terrorist-loving socialist IS he?

For the record, I'm guessing even Joe the Plumber would like nuclear energy to be safe. Just a guess.

Okay, moving on to...the recent dates. I haven't heard from Obama Guy since Sunday. He was supposed to call Tuesday night; he did not. I am not planning to call him.

I went to a debate-watching party by myself last night. Which actually turned out to be very interesting. Last week we went to a local non-profit indie movie theatre--it was fun, but fairly crowded, and we were packed like sardines into folding chairs. I had heard there was a coffeehouse on the "north side" holding debate-watching parties. Side note: for those of you for whom this means nothing, i.e. pretty much all of you, this is the traditionally African-American part of town, which has gotten a bad reputation in recent years (not completely fairly, though certainly there are problems) for being dangerous, due to gang-related activity. It is the part of town in which I live and go to church, though my home doesn't really fall into "far" north territory. Obama Guy had been to a party there, and said the atmosphere was more relaxed and the chairs were more comfortable. So I decided to go watch the debate there.

It was me, about a dozen African-American women, and 3 or 4 African-American men. They all seemed to know each other, so I felt a bit like an outsider on that score, but otherwise...I enjoyed it. There was a good deal of unrestrained vocalizing ("Did he just say that?" and "He did NOT just go there!"), someone brought in a bunch of fried chicken for everyone (I did not partake, of course, but I did enjoy a tall, frosty root beer), and most of the eye-rolling seemed to be in unison. Heh.

Follow-up to yesterday's McCain Supporter sighting: he messaged me again yesterday afternoon. Apparently he just can't stop thinking about me, and thinks maybe we were a bit hasty--would I consider going out with him again? I basically replied that I didn't really see the point--eventually our many fundamental differences would make us both crazy. His reply? "I like crazy." Heh. As I told him, there's crazy, and then there's crazy. He told me to call him if I changed my mind at any point, and that was that. For the record, I'm not THAT crazy. Yet.

Isn't that always the way.

So, for those wondering...no, I did not meet up with Obama Guy this weekend. I'm kind of disappointed in Obama Guy, truthfully. We keep talking about getting together, but it never quite happens. He seems to be pretty laid-back about scheduling...which makes me a little nuts, if you must know. To me, the correct follow-up to a Thursday night discussion which includes the words "let's think about doing brunch on Sunday" is NOT a phone call at 2:30 on Sunday afternoon, asking "so what do you want to do?" That question is likely to get you an answer of "finish up this sandwich and mow my lawn." I mean, I'm no "call by Wednesday for a Saturday night date" Rules Girl, but come ON.

I think he's just not that into it. Dating in general, and me in particular, I guess. He does have a weird schedule, balancing work and school, and, of course, I DO understand being ambivalent about dating (god knows), but being ambivalent about seeing ME? Unfathomable. Heh.

At this point I haven't completely X'd him out, but I don't have any real hope that this will become a "love connection," either. Maybe we just need to be friends who discuss politics occasionally.

I think I need a break from the whole dating game, anyway. Lately I'd rather spend my evenings with Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow and Jon Stewart. They're always there when I need them. (Oh, Jon...why can't you be single and crazy about me? Sigh.) (And oh, Rachel...why can't I be a lesbian, and you be single and crazy about me? Hee.)

Plus I have a kitten to play with! Who needs men when there are kittens? (She said, as she plunged ever more rapidly toward her Crazy Cat Lady Spinster fate.) By the way, it amuses me that most of you assume that having a lot of cats means...3 or 4. Oh, if only. My vet used to respond, when people would exclaim "oh, I can't adopt another; I already have 2 (3,4) cats!" with..."well, that's a good START." Hee. She was also fond of "what's another pound to an elephant?" (And, for the record, she lives in the country and, last I knew, had about 15 rescued dogs. [Now that's crazy!] So she definitely practices what she preaches in the animal rescue department.)

Oh...this is funny. I got an instant message from the McCain supporter (remember him?) this morning. He was "just thinking of me," and hoped it was okay to say hi. I was away from my desk and he was offline again by the time I got the message. Maybe he's ready to take a little course in the science of evolution. Hee.

I also talked to New Guy a couple of nights ago. The new job's okay, but I think the demands of being a single, custodial parent of a special needs child are really weighing on him. He seemed...tired. I also choose to believe that he's starting to realize how much he misses me. Though, of course, he would never say as much. Fool. Great dad, though. Sigh.

Can't wait for the debate tonight! Go get 'im, "that one"!

Not a political post

I have much, much, MUCH to say about what's going on in the political arena, but since I have been saying most of it to an actual person this week, I'll spare you all this time. You're welcome.

Yes, Obama Guy and I have been having some fairly lengthy phone conversations, although we have yet to meet again face-to-face. We're going to try to get together some time this weekend. We definitely share the same political philosophies, though I'm a little worried that he keeps asking "now, how many cats do you have exactly?" (I don't share that information until I'm certain the recipient of the news can handle it. Hee.) He does have a dog of his own, but he said last night he can't imagine "having a whole bunch of animals." To which I responded, "well, I can't imagine having just one." He assumed that he would be able to figure out the number once he's been invited to my house, and I told him he assumed wrong. Even my mother never sees Magda, Babs and Sylvie. (It occurs to me that if I keep telling cat stories and using their names, eventually alert blog readers could dig through my archives, do a little math, and come up with a fair approximation of the total. At which point I would say, "You seriously need to get a life." Hee!)

We also had a discussion about cosmetic modifying of dogs. "You didn't crop your doberman's ears and tails?" "NO!!" "Why not? It looks cool." "Because it's painful and medically unnecessary." "What makes you think it's painful?" "Because I have seen it done and heard the cries. And don't you think it would hurt YOU to have pieces of your body snipped off?" "Well, I was circumcised as a baby." "And I bet you cried." And then we both laughed a little. And moved on.

So, I still don't know about "romantic" compatibility, but after a day in the office, it's nice to sound off on the political scene with someone sympathetic. Will we still have anything to talk about after the election? I don't know...but if things don't go our way, maybe we can figure that out on our way to Canada. Hee. (Pull out that Murphy Bed, stinkypaw!)

About last night

Well, I thought (along with the majority of watchers, according to the polls) that Obama won the debate last night. Well-spoken, attentive, good grasp of the issues--that does it for me. I know there are people who think he's too "professorial," but gosh darn it, that's what I WANT in a president. Obvious smarts. You betcha. Plus I pretty much completely agree with his approach to foreign policy, so there's that.

What I DON'T want? Someone who, showing a complete lack of respect and common courtesy, gestures and refers to his opponent dismissively as "that one." (When he can be bothered to acknowledge his presence at all.) Someone who laughs over and over again at his own lame "jokes." Someone who repeatedly calls me his "friend." I'm not your "friend," John. And repetition doesn't make it so.

So, did I watch the debate alone, or with a friend? Well, I did indeed go to a debate watching party, where I met up with...oh, I don't have a good alias yet, so let's just call him "Obama Guy." Heh. And?

And...he seems very sweet. Like...a big, chocolate teddy bear. We're obviously on the same page politically, which is good, but we didn't really get a chance to talk much, so I don't know yet if there's a real "spark" there or not. Physically, he's not so much my usual "type," insofar as I even have a type, but I thought he was cute, and I definitely didn't have that "never in a million years" reaction I've had with some of the others I've met recently, so...we'll see. We didn't stick around too long after the debate, but there was a hug and a cheek peck in the parking lot, and he did say he wants to go to dinner soon, and he'll call me this evening, so...we'll see. Again. Some more.

Watching the debate in public was way more fun than watching at home alone. A friend of mine was there, and he sat with us and kept me entertained. (We share similarly sarcastic senses of humor--good mutual snarkiness.) I felt kind of bad that I was interacting more with him than with my "date," but...I know him. I don't really know Obama Guy yet, so it just seemed more natural to aim my whispered snark in that direction. Perhaps I should apologize to OG when I talk to him this evening.

In feral cat news ('cause I know you just live for these tidbits), Lil' Mama killed and ate most of a squirrel yesterday. I had to scoop up the remains. May I just say eewwwwwww?!?

I heart Darwin

So, as previously mentioned, the date Friday night was cancelled. Yes, though I was determined to see it through, seeing as how I said I would, and I'm trying to prove that I am NOT too picky and judgmental, HE called to cancel.

Here's a paraphrased version:

Him: Do you have a minute to talk?

Me: Sure.

Him: It seems to me that, down the line, we might find ourselves butting heads over some things.

Me: (laughing) We already are.

Him: I think you're a great person and all, but it's like...you go to the left, I go to the right, I go to the left, you go to the right...

Me: (dripping with sarcasm) Oh, have no doubt, I'M the one going to the left.

Him: (doesn't get it)

Me: I was probably going to say something similar myself soon.

Him: I hope you appreciate my honesty. I just wanted to be upfront.

Me: I do; it's fine.

Him: 'Cause I really do think you're very nice, but I have to be honest...

Me: IT'S FINE, REALLY.

Him: Are you sure, 'cause...

Me: IT'S FINE, REALLY.

We wished each other luck, and....end scene.

Now, would you like to know what the proverbial straw which broke the camel's back was?

He doesn't believe in evolution. (Or global warming, by the by.) Now, to me, this is like saying "I don't believe the world is round" or "I don't believe in the sun." Some things just are. (Note: this came up in conversation, oddly, in a round about way. This is not a litmus test question I routinely ask potential dates. At least, it wasn't. It may be now.)

I queried him: you think we just sprang up out of the mud, fully formed? He thinks "God made us and that's that." You don't even consider the possibility that an all-powerful God could have created us through evolution? "No." You don't believe in science? "I believe in science, but not like that."

Man, oh man. And, I would like it to be pointed out for the record, I was STILL willing to follow through with our planned date, 'cause that is just how open-minded I am...trying to be.

So, no dates this weekend. Except for a lunch date with a friend from high school that I hadn't seen SINCE high school. (That's 27 years, folks.) We had a great time. We ate Mexican food, and sat and gabbed for 3.5 hours. Lots of fun, and we're determined, now that we know we're actually living in the same city, not to wait another 27 years. I resisted the urge to show up with a gift-wrapped kitten to present to her, and she appreciated that restraint.

I was supposed to have a date Sunday...but the guy flaked out and disappeared AS we were making plans via email. Just disappeared. Nice.

Instead, I spent 2 hours talking on the phone to yet another guy from flentyofpish...I don't know if it's a match made in heaven, but we're politically compatible, and may meet each other at a debate-watching party tomorrow night. (He does "believe" in evolution, for the record. Though he did say "Is that something you always ask? 'Cause that would never occur to me." Hee.)

Pre and Post Debate thoughts. Now with added kitten!

Updated to add: the McCain supporter mentioned below just called to say he thinks we're probably not compatible, due to our differing thoughts on several topics, and to cancel our date tonight. I think he thought I would be upset. For the record, I am not. Heh.


I won't belabor this, but here are my thoughts.

Pre-debate: I think Sarah Palin is an idiot, incapable of stringing together coherent thoughts. (This is based on...well, every interview I've seen her give.) I'm a little worried Joe Biden may do some of his famous...well, you know. Let's watch.

Debate: why do people like her? This "folksy" stuff is working on my very last nerve. She's like a character in a bad sitcom. "Up there in Alaska." (Hey--that could be the name of the sitcom.) "Maverick, maverick, maverick." "Up there in Alaska." "Ya." Can she not say "you"? Can she not put an occasional "g" on the end of a word? "Workin'." "Taxin'." AAAARRRGGGHHH! She said "nu-cu-lar"! I thought we were done with that, with Bush leaving office. Why isn't she answering the questions she's actually ASKED?

Okay, I can see how some people find Joe Biden a little dry, but I LIKE facts and figures in a politician. I do. I want them to know things. Many, many things. More things than I do. I don't want my next-door neighbor running the country. I don't want someone "just like you and me." Well, maybe "me," but I'm really leery of "you." (Kidding, I sure as hell don't want the job. I'm not qualified on foreign policy, seeing as how the only foreign country Oklahoma borders is Texas. Heh.) Okay, he's livening up a a bit...getting a little peeved. Oh man, he's getting choked up. I'M getting choked up. That was a very real moment.

Post-Debate: I still think Sarah Palin is an idiot, incapable of stringing together coherent thoughts, BUT she is capable of spewing out the talking points she's been given, whether or not they're relevant to the question being asked. I'm sure the conservatives are thrilled with her, and as long as she avoids any more live interviews, she probably won't damage her ticket any further. I suppose she wins on "style," if you like her style. And if you don't, well...then you, like me, were probably ready to stick sharp and pointy things in your own eardrums if you heard the words "maverick" or "ya" one more time.

Joe Biden did fine, I thought...definitely winning on substance. He did what he had to do--connecting McPalin to Bush, refraining from attacking Palin directly and coming across as a bully, picking on that poor woman. (And yes, I hate that we're still having to play into that, but...it is what it is.)

Did either of them win any new voters to their tickets? Probably not, I think. In that way, it seemed to me very much a draw. And maybe that's how it should be. Let's get back to focusing on the top names on the ballot.

After the debate was over, I let Pete the kitten out of his cage to amuse me and the other cats. I've let him out a couple of times, but never with as many other cats in the room as this time, and it was hilarious. It's probably a good thing no one was around to hear me cackling, 'cause cackling I was. I think he must be part "Tigger"--his bottom definitely seems to be made out of springs.

In other news, I have a second date tonight with the McCain supporter. We've talked on the phone every day this week, however briefly, and I wish I thought this was really going somewhere, but I have some serious reservations. It's not just the differing political opinions, truly...there have been several other indications that we're just not intellectually compatible, but I'm giving it another shot, anyway. Can I get an "A" for effort?

I've talked (via phone and email) with another couple of fellows who expressed an interest in going out, but so far neither of them has been great with the follow-through, so...I don't know. I'm pretty much rejecting out-of-hand anyone who contacts me with "prefer not to say" listed as their "marital status," and the man pipeline seems to be clearing again.

Oh, and I did finally hear from the "MeMarmony" doctor--he'd been out-of-town dealing with some family issues, and needs some time to get things in order. He thanked me for my patience and understanding, and pointed out that I certainly shouldn't take it personally, as we hadn't even met yet. True, dat. I guess he stays in the "maybe" column for now.

Good weekends, all!

Date update

Well, there was a date this weekend. (I had thought there might be dates with two different guys, but the doctor who was uber-eager to meet me via "MeMarmony" never returned my phone call. The one he requested that I make. What is it with guys who can't wait to "fast track" and then just disappear? He owes me $59.95, since I stupidly paid for another month of membership, JUST to respond to him. Maybe he's just been busy. Or maybe he's an ass. Gah.

Okay, back to the date I did have. I "met" this guy Friday morning on..."Flenty of Pish." We talked on the phone twice that day, and agreed to meet for coffee Friday night. His first words--"you look just like your picture." He seemed relieved--must have had some bad experiences. Heh. There was definitely physical chemistry, and we had a lot of fun. The (immediately apparent) downside? He's a McCain supporter. And I know, I know...plenty of people have "mixed" relationships, and 20 years ago, it might not have even occurred to me to ASK a question like that (although, for the record, HE is the one who asked it first), but now...I don't know. I finally decreed that if there was any chance for us to enjoy each other's company, then all political topics had to be off the table. Completely. And we stuck to it.

He wants to see me again, because he finds me very "interesting," and he likes "the way I put things." We actually talked about going on a "real" date Saturday night, but then he cancelled because he wasn't feeling well. We did talk several times on the phone through the weekend, and he called on his lunch hour, so...we'll see.

In the meantime, every time I log into "Flenty of Pish," I am instantly bombarded with men wanting to chat. I've actually been asked out twice just today. It's a bit insane. I've never been very good at juggling men, but the BFF thinks I should go out with any and all of them, just to keep busy, and keep my mind off...what was his name again? Heh.

I should have my own show.

"The Cat Whisperer."

I got one of the feral kittens back this week from the foster mother, two weeks later, because he was "completely wild" and "untamable," and she was thinking of putting him down. The other kittens apparently were fine--this one was intractable.

Well, I didn't want to see him put down without seeing for myself the degree of his "wildness," so back to me he came. I put him in the big cage in the garage, and almost immediately thought, "I've made a terrible mistake." (Ah, "Arrested Development," I will never stop missing you.) He was a pisser! I didn't try to touch him much the first night and day, thinking he needed some time to settle in, though I did spend some time sitting on a blanket on the cold, hard garage floor, talking to him calmly and telling him what a good boy he was. (Me: "What a good boy." Him: "Hissssss!!!!) but underneath the hissing and spitting, it started to seem pretty clear to me that he was not so much "wild" as "terrified." I don't know what happened to this one kitten, but he was out of his mind with fear.

Wednesday night I decided to move him into a large dog crate IN the house, since the garage door and the car noises were completely freaking him out, and oh, what a glorious thing THAT was for him. There are other cats here! Hallelujah! He was beside himself, staring longingly at them, and meowing plaintively. (Him, in cat language: "Get me out of here, you guys! Hey...are you my mother?")

I gave him some time to adjust, and as the hissing and spitting seemed to slow down, I decided to make my move. Last night I put on some gloves, got down on the floor, leaned into the cage, gently reached out to touch him, and...he purred. And head-butted me. And purred. And rolled over to let me rub his adorable spotted belly. And purred. And nestled his head in my hands. And purred.

I don't know what the hell the foster mother did (or DIDN'T do), but...this kitten is not wild. This kitten just needed someone to let him know that people are nice. Mission accomplished.

Of course, now I still have to find him a home, but...much easier to find a home for a sweet kitten than a little hellion that wants to kill you.

In other formerly feral cat news, Lil' Mama has been coming inside our workplace in the mornings, exploring and keeping me company. It's cute. The boss thinks we need to keep her as an office cat--he's even willing to make adjustments to the motion detectors, so if I can't find her a "real" home, at least there's that option.

Have good weekends, everyone. I might actually have a date (or two) this weekend, so...I'll let you know how that goes.

Omigod, REALLY?

This is a direct quote (on a fan message board) from a shaken Clay Aiken fan, following his recent public admission of what we all knew, anyway:

"This is really shocking news as I had no idea he was gay," read a comment posted by "Sheridansq." "And now I have to deal with this. I am not sure what to say to people who know I was a fan. ... I didn't go to work today and am not answering the telephone."

I am speechless. You couldn't go to work? Seriously? You had NO idea? Really? I just...wow. And from what I've seen of the "claymates," this is probably a middle-aged woman we're talking about here. The mind boggles.

I was going to regale you with feral kitten-wrangling tales, but now...I think I have to go soak my head.