tobermory's Diaryland Diary



Oh, in yesterday’s update I almost forgot to mention a prime irritation of the weekend. Ivy, my youngest cat, has a multitude of bad habits such as occasionally peeing on either the bed or the sofa necessitating unwieldy plastic covers, but she also plays with toys or non-toys in the bathtub – usually the only annoyance with this is that she chooses to do it at 3 in the morning with something that makes a lot of noise, but over the weekend apparently the suction hook that holds my razor in the bathtub area fell down and the whole works became fair game – moving her to a new and more hazardous level of play. Luckily Ivy managed to use my Bic razor as a soccerball without slicing her paws or tongue, but in doing so she must have bit down on the triple blades and bent and broke the middle blade. This was only discovered when I tried to shave my left armpit – which now looks like hamburger meat. Ouchie. I wish she’d find something normal to get her freak on with – like a piece of string or a yarn ball – at least something that is a little bit more safe. So for now I have to make sure to put deodorant under only my right armpit lest I fall to the ground writhing with pain as the evil substance seeps into my cuts and scrapes. My little Poison Ivy does like the strange stuff – Steve has to hide his fancy self-cleaning Braun electric razor because Ivy is fascinated with the scent of the cleaning gel and she’ll chew up the foil cutter in a heartbeat. Maybe with all this razor play she’s really trying to tell us that she’d like to be shaved, which if I was sure it was true, I’d happily comply with. An ugly bald cat vs. 33% less cat hair in the house would be a good trade. Right. That’ll happen right after I convince her to wear diapers to control her ‘whimsical’ bladder.

So I’m doing a little cheating on Ms. Trish McEvoy. I went to Kohl’s over the weekend and I bought a couple of make-up items from their in-house American Beauty and Flirt! lines – a very nice creamy lipstick in snapdragon rose, an ‘automatic’ eyeliner in auburn, and (warning: splurge purchase ahead) purple mascara. Why yes, I am a child of the 80’s and it (apparently) did scar my fashion sense. I have to say that I like everything I bought – not surprising since I believe the Estee Lauder conglomerate is behind these make-up lines. It costs about 1/3 to 2/3 of what I’d normally pay for fancy department-store make-up, they have the all-important testers available and no irritating high-pressure salespeople hovering nearby. On the strength of the make-up I’m interested in trying their skin care lines, but first I have to try to use up some of the crapola that I already have. Which reminds me that I have two Lush masques in the fridge that are past their expiration dates. Oops. Well, I generally only use the food expiration dates as a guideline so I guess I should be OK extending the dates for the masques by a couple of weeks without contracting some sort of hideous facially deforming crud. I’ll be sure to let you all know if my nose falls off or if I become an itchy red pustule.

My cat sitting job is finally over – praise jeezus! The actual cat sitting was easy if slightly inconveniently located, but the house is very close to Convito Italiano, a restaurant with an upscale Italian mini-mart attached and my waistline was starting to bulge from the twice weekly take-homes of fresh pasta and Bolognese sauce. Plus Willy, the three pound ultra-ancient cat, developed some sort of skin abrasion complete with a hanging flap of furry skin on his front leg that was causing me some concern. The little bugger wouldn’t let me look at it and Steve got all queasy when I asked him for assistance in pinning Willy down. Happily it occurred the day before Harry and Eleanor got home and, being doctors, they took a look, cleaned it and trimmed off the excess skin/fur flap – AEIEIEIEIEIEI!!!! Pardon me while I get all queasy and run around screaming. I guess I shouldn’t fault Steve for not wanting to help me – I’m not really even sure what I would have done had he held Willy long enough for me to determine that I was going to have to do something to the flap. Yes, I could have taken him to the emergency vet, but I could get just close enough to tell that the abrasion was clean and not swollen and I wasn’t sure how Harry and Eleanor would feel about a zillion dollar charge on their decrepit cat who has three paws in the grave and is on life 8 ½. I count my blessings that it happened on the last day of the job.

We met with Father Keehan last night and it went very well. Turns out the noisy parties on Saturday nights are generally people who rent the hall, so we have free rein to call the cops for noise violations and Fr. Keehan said they would also do their best to be more strident in talking to the renters about cutting the music volume at 10:30 and leaving the building quietly. He also mentioned that he would be at the annual fiesta this summer and would make sure that the volume of the music would be a more reasonable and tolerable volume. Fr. Keehan was very nice and I think I neatly evaded the one-way ticket to the eternal inferno by remaining cool and collected and not throwing a temper tantrum.

Steve leaves on Thursday to go to Texas for a family wedding so I’m desperately trying to fill up my weekend with plans so I don’t lie around all day on the couch eating bon-bons. I’m seeing the current uber-chick flick Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants on Friday with Alli and her friend other-Paula, heading to the archery range on Saturday afternoon, followed by dinner with Megan and Tam and then continuing with Tam for a few drinks at Club Foot. Sunday is still kind of a mystery – I’m trying to think of things that Steve wouldn’t want to do. He didn’t sound thrilled when I said I’d bumped Deadwood off the queue for Carnivale – maybe I’ll have a Carnivale marathon. If it’s nice I suppose I could lounge in the backyard now that I’ve finally thwarted the foot high grass. The possibilities are endless, but I’m happy to take suggestions.

2:18 p.m. - 2005-06-01


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