ammogirl

You know, I like my cats a lot.  I know there is a huge contingent of people out there who hate cats, but I’m not one of them, so.  However, it is decidedly not fabulous when during a marathon practice session on Rock Band, you move your foot off the drum pedal to stretch out your shin a bit and step in cat puke.

And then it sucks worse when you have to pause your game and clean up the humongous hairball sitting on the floor, and notice there is not just the one, but three different areas.  When I am in a drumming zone, I don’t like to be disturbed.

But.

What’s worse than all of that is when you are getting ready for bed and hear retching from…somewhere, so you run into the hall and realize, great, that’s coming from my bedroom.  And upon entering your  bedroom, you are immediately relieved that there is not a retching cat on your bed, but think, ‘where the hell IS the retching cat?’  So you walk to the other side of the bed, the hidden side, and don’t see a cat, and you look under the dresser, and you don’t see a cat, and then you hear the final retch that ends the barf battle and think, ‘fuck’, but sort of more intensely, because you realize that came from underneath your bed.  Which is a California King.  On a wrought-iron bed…thing.  And upon confirming, you discover that yes, the barf is indeed directly under the middle of the bed.

As in, out of your reach.

This is one of those times that I really, really wish John was home.

Anyway, I would like to mention, again, that Rock Band is the Best Game Ever.  However, I am stupid and can’t figure out Xbox Live, so I’m just staying in practice  mode until I…well, I don’t know, actually.  Until something, anyway.  I think it might have to do with the fact that Matt has all of our controllers, leaving me unable to sign in with the ‘gamertag’ (you have no idea how really, really, REALLY dumb I feel typing that) I have already created and registered and all that.  It’s all okay though, because it just means by the time I am ready to battle my online adversaries, I will be, you know, even better than I already am.

I am dreading work tomorrow because it is my turn to fill in for Amy, our Commander’s secretary.  I have to sit in her office all day and route taskers when they come in and answer phones and pass on messages.  It sounds easy, I know, but routing a tasker is…ugh, thinking about it actually gave me shivers just now.  I would describe the process but even then it sounds a million times easier than it is in real life.  Also, how boring would it be to read something like that?

Not boring to read is my dream from Monday night.  I had ferrets, and they had to pee, and I put out napkins so they could so.  And then I went to the store and a creepy cashier helped me, and then I was suddenly asleep (in my dream) and being woken by a ringing phone (still in my dream).  When I answered it, it was the creepy cashier guy, who just sat there until I was sufficiently scared enough to yell and slam down the phone.  Upon going to the window to shut my curtains, I discovered creepy cashier guy, who was stringing a phone line from my house to his.  At that point, I woke up, because that shit was scary.

Gotta go.

Tschuss!!

Rock Band is the coolest thing in one million years times forever! It is my new favorite thing, even more than ice cream, and all I can think about is the how long until I can play again. In fact, last night I was just sitting down for an evening jam session before bed when I heard my IM go off, and although I knew it was John, and I hadn’t chatted with him all day, I still thought, “Awww…” and debated ignoring him or not. I KNOW! That’s so bad! Of course I chatted with him. But: ROCK BAND!

I’m a DRUMMING GODDESS, by the way. DRU…MOTHER FUCKER. I just did one of those tricky finger combinations that results in DELETION OF HALF A POST. Sighhh…okay. I said of course I rocked the drums because of all my natural rhythm, but of course that was a BIG JOKE. And then I said all I’ve done since the girls have been gone is nothing, and cereal for dinner three nights in a row, and…oh, talking to the cats. Oh. And sleeping in until 5:45 because I don’t have to make them breakfast. Andd…that’s it.

NOW! It is time to pick up my sticks. ROCK ON!

Tschuss!!

So, while I sit here on my comfy couch with a glass of wine and my laptop, my kids are somewhere over the Great Lakes, on their way to the grandparents.  For a whole week.   A whole week of no…anything.  It’s great.  Oh, I’ll miss them (…mayyybe), but at this point in the game, one week for us is nothing.

I keep getting asked what I’m going to do with the kids gone and I’m always a little bit confused.  What do you THINK I’m going to do?  What would YOU do?  I plan on doing absolutely nothing, honestly.  I have two seasons of Doctor Who to finish, season one of Arrested Development, and a season four marathon of The Office to get me back on track for the first new episode since the strike.  April 10, if anyone is wondering.

Also, I have a package at the post office and I’m pretty sure it’s Rock Band, which means: time to ROCK!  My goal is to get good enough to battle Flatgreg and Kario online…and ANNIHILATE them!  They will throw down their instruments in awe of my mad skilz and immediately beg me to take them on as roadies, which I will pretend to think about before callously pushing them away!  Because I will be a ROCK GODDESS!  I don’t have roadies, I HAVE PEONS!!!

Got an email yesterday from an old friend.  She’s putting together our 20 year reunion and was wondering if I had any connections with anyone.  Of course, I immediately offered up Kari and Angel and Megan, and then Kori, and within a few hours WHAMMO!  I get an email with like, 19 addys on it of people I went to school with, and when you had a graduating class of less than 100, seeing 19 of those names all in one place is strangely comforting.  I know those people, I would have instantly known them even had Angi not added last names.  It’s cool.  I think I really want to go…yeah.  I do.

For now, though, I have some…thing to do.  What?  LAYING ON THE COUCH is doing something.

Leave me alone, I have no kids.

Tschuss!!