Mornings - Like Mondays, Only Worse.

So, I'm obviously not a fan of mornings at all. I'm sure those of you who are reading this probably know that. I am a vicious, evil, catty mess until I've either had a bath/shower or a caffeine jolt...or at least gotten a chance to move around a bit. You do not want to have a conversation with me if I've been up for less than a half an hour - which is why you should NEVER, under ANY circumstances, call me early in the morning or late at night. If you think I might be sleeping...don't do it.

My sister loves to tell this story to illustrate my morning evil...

She was finishing high school at Louisiana School at the time, and was home for the weekend. I was 2-3 years old. For some reason, everyone was gone. It was just she and I left home alone together...and it was in the morning.

I came into my kitchen as I usually did in the morning....wearing a bitchface and my pjs....and sat at the table.

My sister was new and didn't know the drill. She had no idea that I couldn't properly function without my morning hot chocolate. So she probably said something like, "Morning, Boober! Do you want some breakfast?"

I then probably gave her the death stare (which is like the bitchface if the bitchface were making a bitchface) and screeched, "I WANT MY HOT CHOCOLATE!!!!!!" - I was super charming as a child...really, I was.

So she proceeds to try to make my hot chocolate...first she used the wrong cup, so I had to correct her about that as well. I had to have it in my coffee mug with the bear on it. Always.

And it had to be the correct temperature, which meant there was a certain amount of time my mom would heat it up in the microwave, which Sara didn't know about, so first it was too hot and we were going to have to let it cool. After much crying and protesting and schooling, I finally got my hot chocolate.

Now, contrary to the way I am today in taking my sweet and precious time with food and beverage, I would GOOZLE my morning hot chocolate. I mean...me as a tiny two-year-old would gulp that stuff down without setting the mug down until it was all gone.

Then I'd of course get a horrible stomachache. So I'd put my head down on the table and moan and wail and writhe in agony. Sometimes I'd spew...but usually not. Then...once that passed...I'd jump down and be ready for the daily activities.

I guess my morning rituals have always been slightly off....

Which is why I don't get you morning people. How do you do it? What are you on? How do you wake up and immediately want to TCB? Making all kinds of noise and jumping right into work. Or worse...GETTING UP EARLIER THAN YOU HAVE TO so that you can do things like exercise or "enjoy the day"......

Umm..."enjoy the day" my ass. You know what makes an enjoyable day for me? Sleep. I don't want to get up at 5am so I can watch the news and see the sunrise. I see the sun SET every day, and it's just as marvelous. I can also see the news at night or in the afternoon, but ya know what? I don't watch it then either, because it effing sucks and is depressing, and if I wanted to be depressed all the time, I'd have chosen my other possible career paths of social work and counseling.

So yeah...share your secrets, Morning People. I need to know how you do it. But, in the meantime, don't mess with me in the morning. Especially on the road. I'm talking to you, bus drivers and others who think it's fun to pull out in front of the angry girl in the little car who is late for work and go five mph below the speed limit.

See? Less than a week and I've posted another entry. I'm trying! Still got lots to discuss, my dears. Stay tuned. And check this regularly...even if I don't put a Facebook link...because I don't always get to do that.

Feline Drama

I've never been a cat person. I like dogs. They're goofy and loyal and, even though they might be more trouble, they show more love, and it's worth it.

However, until my living situation changes, I cannot have dogs.

If it were only me, I would choose to instead not have a pet. But...David is a cat person. He loves kitties. He is a cat whisperer of sorts - he can get stray, skiddish ones to come up to him...all cats love him. It's bizarre.

I am my mother's child. I've always though cats were worthless and pretty much left them alone save for one failed cat experience in high school...which didn't end well.

So please.....everyone....humor me and allow me to make a crazy cat lady post today. Even though David is really the crazy cat lady of the two of us, but he didn't have to go to the vet with them this morning, I did. But yeah, just this one time, I promise. No more cat posts.

Anyway, when we lived in our apartment in New Orleans is when David started the cat business. He wanted a kitty. He needed a pet. So...one of the Ducat cats had some kittens that were old enough to take away from their mom when I was home one weekend, and I picked one out and brought her home with me. She was cute and tiny, but cuh-razy, so we decided to call her Couillion (Cooey for short). She's been with us a couple years now. Mostly keeps to herself. Isn't too much trouble except for the occasional hairball vomit. Does crazy stuff like pees in the toilet (and doesn't miss...if I could only get her to flush, we'd be in business). She's a cat...and she's grown on me. I kinda like having her around.

Now, as many of you know, about a week ago David decided to pick up a kitten that was walking around in the middle of the road in the S-curve in Hayes - the cat whisperer strikes again!!! I wasn't happy about it, but whatever. I did put my foot down, though. The foot has spoken. This is the last one. He is not allowed to rescue any more animals. Dogs, cats, whatever. NOT HAVING IT!

So...since HE decided to play kitty savior...I had to take today off work (that part I'm fine with) to bring them to the vet.

While at the vet, I discovered that the new kitten is a boy and not a girl as we originally thought (I'm thinking of calling him Fred. He's definitely a Fred.), and that Cooey has all of a sudden turned into the Antichrist.

She HATES the new cat. Hisses and growles these deep, dog-like growles. Gets all tense and freaked out and pissed off when the new cat is around. She's NEVER done anything like that before. Never. She's also never been bad or weird or had any trouble at the vet. So what do I do? Yay! Let's take them to the vet together!

Right after putting Cooey in her little carrier, I knew it wasn't going to be good. She was already hissing at me.

Fred went first. Got his ear mite treatment, a shot and also some flea meds. He was a trooper and gives kisses like a dog. Fred was fine.

Then it was Cooey's turn. I put her carrier up on the exam table to take her out...I could hear her hissing. So we decided to take the top off of the carrier....she started growling then. Then she swatted and bit at the vet and the assistant. Then jumped off of the table and hid in the corner of the room...growling these deep, whole-body growles and hissing when anyone would go near her. They got a towel thinking covering her face would help (?), but to no avail. The doctor kept jumping backwards in terror. Cooey kept trying to bite them and scratch with her back legs. I was freaking horrified. I'd never seen her freak out on the vet like that before.

She couldn't even get all of her vaccinations because they couldn't keep her still long enough to give her a shot. They will have to wait for that until they have her under sedation for her spay surgery next week.

So...anybody want to cat sit? hahaha

Trying not to play favorites here, because I know that will only make things worse...but I'm really liking Fred better at this point.

Anyway...again, I'm sorry about the cat post. It won't happen again. I just almost had a stroke today and needed to share.

Lucifer Loves People Magazine

Has anyone ever successfully cancelled a magazine subscription? It's not as easy as you might think.

A couple of months ago, I took a little Books-A-Million detour after work to get something new to read that didn't involve staring at a glowing screen well into the evening (like I do all day). I don't understand the concept of e-books, really. I know, I know...save paper and everything. But there's nothing like an actual, tangible book. That smooth crackle of a turned page. It's a beautiful thing. One of my besties, Allison, loves the way books smell. I'm kinda down with that, too...but I digress...

Upon checkout at Books-A-Million, I was tricked into getting "free" subscriptions to People and Time. The fine print would later tell me that I would get six weeks free, after which I would be alerted of imminent charges to my account to continue receiving the magazines. I really should have known better, right?

I never got any sort of alert. And they kept sending the damn magazines.

Now comes the fun part. You can't cancel these things online. You must do it by phone. And, to my chagrin, it's one of those automated things where the Ladybot talks to you. At the beginning of the call, they pretend to give you the option of pushing numbers instead of having to attempt to get Ladybot to understand your vocal commands. After about the second question, though, that all goes down the toilet. By then you're nice and fired up, and proceed to scream at Ladybot. She seems to respond better to screaming than normal speech. Is Ladybot a masochist, or a very clever sadist? We will soon find the answer....

I'm sure it was youtube-worthy....my bitch session with Ladybot while trying to cancel my subscriptions. Ladybot is a cold, calculating shrew. Each "I'm sorry...I didn't understand you" coming from her end of the phone made me want to give up and launch my fist through a window. But I could not. I was on a mission. They would not keep sending me those damn magazines.

What you also may not know if you've never tried to cancel a subscription is that Ladybot (or Manbot...whichever yours may be) will do everything in her (his) power to trick you into keeping that subscription alive. They offer you gas cards, frequent flier miles, more free magazines, Malibu condos (Ok, I made that last one up...but you get the idea). And they ask you thinks in a very sneaky, inverse way. "Are you sure you would not like to cancel your subscription?" ...that sorta shit. It almost got Yoda-bad. "Not cancel the subscription you will?" By the end (and it takes about 15 - 20 minutes) you've got a brain like day-old grits and you can't remember if you messed up and told them you'd like the "free" Malibu beach condo.

Anyway....I'm still getting magazines, and at this point I'm not entirely sure it's worth the 40 bucks a year (or whatever) to go through that again. You're a worthy adversary, Ladybot, and you have beaten me.