Halloween Fun!

I decided I wanted one of those "kitty- in-the-jack-o-lantern" pictures this year. It can't be that hard to convince a cat to get inside a pumpkin, right? I carefully planned each step of the process to ensure success. Step 1: Pick the perfect pumpkin. I found it at Albertson's-- a perfectly round 28-pound pumpkin. I made sure it was wide enough to accommodate my slightly obese kitty. Step 2: Familiarize the kitty with the pumpkin.

No problem at all! She was very interested in the pumpkin! In fact, she loved it!!!

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Step 3: Carve the pumpkin in a non-scary design so as to not frighten the kitty.

I went for the cat theme in order to increase the kitty's comfort level with the jack-o-lantern. Step 4: Take a picture of the lit jack-o-lantern as kitty may destroy it in the next few steps.

Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. Step 5: Place the jack-o-lantern near the kitty to build up the kitty's comfort level.

I've captured her interest-- a good sign.

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Step 6: Utilizing camera angles, take a fake "kitty-in-the-jack-o-lantern" picture (note this may be the closest you get to the real thing) It almost looks real-- if it were a really big pumpkin or a really tiny kitty. . Step 7: One hand on camera, one hand on kitty. Carefully insert kitty into pumpkin.

She stayed in the pumpkin for less than a second after I took my hand off her. Just enough time to snap this picture. Note the look on her face. . .

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Step 8: Run for your life.

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Step 9: Enraged kitty catches you and scratches your eyeballs out.

Phew!

A couple weeks ago, my boss announced that she was advertising for the position which I and 11 others currently hold. As we had been previously told that due to the budget, we were capped at 12 employees, we all immediately freaked out-- Who's quitting? Is someone getting fired?? After we all shut up, my boss said nobody was quitting, nobody was getting fired and she wasn't going to hire anyone. She simply wanted to "test the waters" and see what kind of candidates are out there. It sounded fishy and since she offered no additional information we've all been feeling uneasy. I was mentally preparing myself because my review is coming up next and I was sure it was me who was getting fired. But today, one of my co-workers announced that she was resigning. Her husband got a job in another state. She had told the boss in advance that it was a possibility, thus the advertisement. I feel much better now. Phew!

Weather Rant With Segway Segue

This morning, I had to scrape ice off of my windshield. According to Dr. G, down there in Phoenix, they're still using their air conditioner! There is something wrong with this picture!

I went to a long boring conference today for work. I learned nothing and the presentations were not applicable to my job, as is usually the case with these conferences I have to go to. There was one bright spot, though. Most of the exhibitor's tables had candy (can't complain about that!) but one exhibitor, instead of candy, brought a Segway scooter thingy and offered free rides. Being that it was a conference for social workers, almost nobody was interested in riding the Segway! Lucky for me, because I am not the typical social worker! This was only the second time I had ever seen a Segway in person and I was being offered a chance to ride it!!! It was super fun-- kinda scary because the acceleration and brakes are both controlled by simply leaning your body forward or backward, but it was really easy to get the hang of it. I rode it a couple times since NO ONE else wanted to!!! (What is wrong with these people?!?) I totally want one now. They are super cool!

What's on my mind. . .

In 6 days I will say goodbye to a dear friend. I've been thinking about what I will say and what I might give her to remember me by. But mostly I've been trying to wrap my brain around the fact that she is going to a country which would be on my "Top 5 Countries Not To Visit Right Now, Maybe Even Ever" list. And she's not going for a visit, she's going to live there indefinitely. . . 20 years, 40 years, maybe even the rest of her life. She will return to the U.S. for visits but the first one won't be until around three years from now. While I am supporting her in what she is doing, part of me wishes she wasn't going. It scares me that where she is going is so dangerous that, for her protection, I can't even name the country or say what she will be doing. And when I write to her, it will be like playing a game of Taboo, as she has distributed a list of words and topics that cannot appear in any letters, e-mails, or phone calls to or from her. Then I think of how she must be feeling right now. In two weeks her life will be so drastically different that I can't even imagine what it will be like. She's been preparing for this for a long time. I remember the dinner she went to back in college that pretty much started it all and helped her determine her life's path. But still, after all the hard work and preparation, actually leaving is the big step. The whole process of deciding what you can't live without and then figuring out how to fit it all into a suitcase is challenging in the least. Plus there's the process of saying goodbye to everyone you know (I've never understood how people can do that in the form of a "party", but I guess there really is no easy way to do it. When I went to Paraguay, I said goodbye to people individually or in small groups over the course of a few weeks, but then I would see them again and have to say goodbye all over. It sucked.) In a weird way, though, I'm kinda jealous. She's got a plan for the rest of her life. I've got most of next week planned. She has found something she passionate about. I go to work everyday, sit at a desk and stare at a computer. Hey, God? Can you invite me to a banquet and tell me what to do for the rest of my life?? Please? ~Suerte, friend. Dios le bendiga.~

Now I understand. . .

My new client, a 21 year old woman, presented herself to me so well at our first few meetings that I found it hard to believe that she had a disability. Today I went to her house and after she excitedly showed me her halloween costume, she said "and Tina is going to be a little pumpkin!" Looking around for a dog, I asked "who's Tina?" Her reply. . . "Tina is one of my cabbage patch kids. She's upstairs resting."

Pet Rules

My coworker sent this to me. I thought it was hilarious. PET RULES (To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door - nose height.) Dear Dogs and Cats,

• The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
• The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help, because I fall faster than you can run.
• I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.
• For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years--canine or feline attendance is not mandatory.
• The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door: To All Non-Pet Owners Who Visit & Like to Complain About Our Pets: 1. They live here. You don't. 2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That's why they call it "fur"niture.) 3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people. 4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly. Remember: Dogs and cats are better than kids because they: 1. Eat less 2. Don't ask for money all the time 3. Are easier to train 4. Usually come when called 5. Never drive your car 6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends 7. Don't smoke or drink 8. Don't worry about having to buy the latest fashions 9. Don't wear your clothes 10. Don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and 11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children. . Favorite recent Chloe pictures:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!

Monday: I woke up to find water all over the kitchen floor. The pipe under the sink had sprung a leak. I soaked it up with a towel and put a bowl under the offending pipe. I couldn't call my landlord as I have an unauthorized cat. But the leak was minor and I figured as long as I didn't use the sink, it would be fine until I could figure out what to do. I figured the great quantity that had leaked onto the floor was due to the fact that I had used the dishwasher the night before. Note to self: don't run dishwasher. Tuesday: I kept washing my hands in the sink because I would forget until I had the soap on my hands. Plus it's hard to cook without using the sink so I figured I would use it, but sparingly, and just empty the bowl when it got full. Wednesday: Well after three days, there was less than a cup of water that had leaked into the bowl. I figured most of the water was going through the pipe and not leaking out so that night I ran the dishwasher. No problem. It was the curved trap thingy that had the leak so I figured I could just replace it myself and not involve the landlord. I tried to unscrew the thingies that would release the trap thingy (I really did know what I was doing!!) but I could only unscrew one-- the other one would not budge. I didn't have appropriate pliers, either. Thursday: I got off work early so I went to the hardware store. They had the curved trap pipe thingy, but I didn't buy it because I wasn't sure I could get the old one off. So I asked the guy if they had something that would seal a minor leak in a metal pipe. He sold me some self sealing rubber tape (cool stuff-- not sticky, but when you stick it to itself it bonds instantly!) I figured the pipe should be dry before I put the tape stuff on there so I wiped it off with a paper towel. Unfortunately I wiped off a chunk of rust and the leak went from a slow drip to a steady trickle. I tired to put the rubber tape on anyway but no matter how many times I wrapped it around, the water still found a way out. Grr! Fine! I decided that on Saturday, I would borrow pliers from my dad and just replace the dang trap pipe thingy. Today: 7:08am: Shoot! I overslept! No time to go downstairs for breakfast-- instead I got right into the shower. 7:35am: Showered and dressed, I headed downstairs to grab something from the kitchen and nearly fell on my head as I slipped in the puddle of water that had formed on the kitchen floor. The kitchen sink was backed up and all of the water was exiting through the leak in the pipe. Apparently the water had come from the shower as it was warm (eww!). I hadn't thought that was possible, but I guess it is. I started bailing water. 8:00am: I called the landlord (figuring the problem was now major enough that he would just send a plumber who wouldn't care that I have a cat). I explained the leak and the fact that my sink was backed up and that it was all leaking out. His response: "Well why is your sink backed up!?!" Umm, if I knew why, I wouldn't need a plumber!!! He said he would "set the plumber in motion" but that it would take a couple hours for him to get there. I called the office and told them I would be late. I continued bailing. 9:00am: Still no plumber, but the leak had slowed again. It appeared like it was safe to leave it unattended. I went to work. 11:45am: The plumber called me to let me know he was at my house. I told him what the problem was and that I was on my way home anyway for lunch. He said "oh, your sink is just backed up. Don't worry, I'll snake it. No problem." 12:00pm: I walk in my front door and hear "OH MY GOSH! WHERE IS ALL THIS WATER COMING FROM!?!?! %*#$@! $#%$!! %*#$@!!! He had removed the trap pipe thingy and water just started gushing out everywhere. We spent a good ten minutes running pots full of water to the door and dumping them outside then running back and grabbing another one. It was insane. He said there was at least 50 gallons. I'd say closer to 100. It was A LOT of water. (Thank goodness I hadn't been able to unscrew that thingy!!!) I used every towel I owned to soak up the water on the floor and we still had to wring each of them out several times. Eventually the water stopped. He replaced the trap pipe thingy and told me the main sewer line outside was blocked so all of the water from my bathroom and my neighbor's bathrooms had come into my kitchen (that would explain the bits of toilet paper, etc that was floating in the water we were bailing! eww! eww!) He said someone else was coming to clear the sewer line and he left. I went back to work. 5:30pm: I came home from work and cleaned the entire kitchen with bleach. Tomorrow: Buy new towels.

Has it been seven years already???

Not long ago, Biffy had a baby:

I used to babysit her in my dorm room while trying to avoid the horde of girls on my floor that seemed to congregate in my room whenever Taylor was there (knock knock knock "Did we hear a baby?!?!)

Now Taylor is all grown up:

well, ok. . . she'll be seven on Friday but she's so dang smart and talented that she seems like she's all grown up. In any case, she's not a baby anymore.

Taylor is already an accomplished athlete, participating in both gymnastics and BMX racing. . .

. . . and winning!!! She has been racing since she was five. I got my training wheels off when I was five!!!

She's in first grade but doing second grade work. (Her teachers may have gotten a clue from the fact that she was reading books such as "The Chronicles of Narnia" on her own when she was in kindergarten.) Several months ago, she announced out of the blue "I'm 5 and six quarters!" Biffy and I had to think for a minute and then realized, why yes-- that does equal six and a half!! Seriously, how many six year olds understand fractions that well??? She's no normal kid. . .

She's SUPER TAYLOR!!!!

Happy Birthday, Super Taylor!!!

Official Notice: STOP KNOCKING ON MY DOOR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!!!

So last night, I was at home minding my own business, when someone knocked on my door. It was 11pm. I didn't answer it because I wasn't expecting anybody, but I was afraid whoever it was could see me through the blinds because all my lights were on. I didn't move for about a minute and then decided to go upstairs. I looked out the upstairs windows and didn't see anybody (though I can't see my porch from upstairs). I figured whoever it was had left so I came back downstairs and shut off all the lights so I could look out the front window without being too conspicuous. As soon as the lights went off, I saw the guy (who had apparently been standing at my door for a full three minutes) get in his car and drive away. I didn't recognize him or his car. So here's my question: Why would a complete stranger drive to my house at 11pm and knock on the door??? I could come up with reasonable justifications for an 11pm knock if it were a neighbor or someone walking by ("Hey, your headlights are on." or "Hey, your house is on fire.") but I can think of no reason for someone I don't know to drive to my house at 11pm and knock on my door. Grrr. Last weekend someone knocked on my door at 9pm. I thought it was my mom because of the way they knocked so I opened it. Instead of my mom, there was a homeless-looking woman on my doorstep crying hysterically. The first thing she said was "My dog *sniff* is friends *sniff* with your dog. . ." I knew she wasn't all there, since I don't have a dog. She wanted to use my phone because her dog had run away "and she's only 13 months old! *sniff* And there's only one person who can help me! *sniff*" I didn't help her. Perhaps that was cruel of me, but it's hard to know who you can trust. Anyway, my cat didn't like her and my cat is a very good judge of character. So anyway, please follow these simple rules:

• If I know you, and for some reason need to visit me in the middle of the night, please call first so I will know to expect you.
• If I don't know you, do not knock on my door in the middle of the night.
• If you're crazy, go find some other door to knock on.

Thank you.

Unexpected Responses

I was sitting in the waiting room with and old man who was waiting for his wife and talking to anyone who would listen. When his wife finally came out, walking slowly and very unsteadily, he looked at me and said "She's used to walking with a walker. She's 95 years old, you know!" He continued to tell me about how they both lived in an assisted living facility. When he finally stopped for a breath, I asked how long they had been married. After all, she was 95 and he looked equally as old. He stopped to think for a minute and then said "oh, about 2 years!"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Orienting my new client, who is autistic, to our program. I stressed the importance of asking questions. I told him "if you're ever confused or don't understand something, it's important to ask me questions, and keep asking questions until you understand." He looked at me, and in all seriousness, replied "That could take a long time."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I admit that I don't eat burritos in the conventional way. I'm not a big fan of tortillas so I like to dissect the burrito and just eat the insides, especially the yummy insides contained in the "mexican burrito" at El Taco Express (a surprisingly good restaurant despite the name. . . and the green hamburger painted on their front window.) Biffy's husband, Zac, did not approve of my burrito-eating-technique, declaring it "Un-American." Without missing a beat, their six year old daughter came to my defense, saying "But Dad, we're in a Mexican restaurant!"

The Scratching Post, Part II

Well, it's done. . . mostly. It's all put together, at least. And I only spent $30 (not counting the staple gun, staples and spray adhesive which totaled another $25.) Of course, I still need to get some carpet to cover the perch (the carpet I want is only $16) and some more rope to finish covering the ramp (a mere $5). A comparable store-bought scratching post (with a ramp & perch) costs anywhere from $70 to $100 (which is why I decided to make my own) so I didn't do too bad. . .

Anyway, mine is much more heavy duty than a store-bought scratching post (so heavy-duty that I can't even lift it!) so it won't crumble under the massive, ever-increasing weight of my cat. And she seems to like it. More thanks to Biffy for helping me put it together!!!

It's Dr. G's Birthday!!!

Happy Birthday Dr. G!

From your baby sister!