Month: January 2005

  • [suspiciously]  Are we all positive the weekend didn't get skipped somehow and it's actually Monday?  Due to a wrinkle in the time-space continuum or something?


    I've mentioned the fancy self-cleaning cat litter box Kirstin gave me for Christmas, right?


    Well, Boots got with the program, but Zeus has been a holdout.  This morning . . . early, before I even woke up Dmitry for school . . . I noticed Zeus squatting here in the living room.


    Squatting cats are Not Good.  Not good at all. 


    Rushed over, scolding and swatting, but she kept right on squatting.  Picked her up and determinedly strode towards the kitchen, intending to place Stupid Cat on the Official Cat Elimination Receptacle.


    Unfortunately I was unaware Stupid Cat was, er, persevering in what she was regrettably doing, but I figured it out real fast . . . as soon as I hit the puddle on the tile floor in the entry hall, skidded, and fell.  (I'm fine, BTW.)


    Now if that's not a Mondayish sort of occurance, I dunno what is.  

  • My pal Heidi sent me this, which afforded me considerable amusement:

    It was October and the Indians on
    a remote reservation asked their new chief if the approaching winter
    would be cold or mild, but being a chief in a modern society he'd not
    been taught these old secrets.




    To be on the safe side he advised
    the tribe it was, indeed, going to be a cold winter, so everyone should
    collect firewood so as to be prepared.




    After a few days he had a
    brainstorm, calling the National Weather Service to ask, "Is the coming
    winter going to be cold?"  "It looks like this winter is going to
    be quite cold," replied the meteorologist.




    Armed with this information, the chief instructed his people to collect even more firewood.



    A week later he called the
    National Weather Service again.  "Does it still look to be a cold
    winter?" he anxiously inquired.  "Yes," came the response from the
    meteorologist, "it looks to be a very cold winter."




    This time the chief ordered the tribe to collect every bit of firewood they could find.



    Two weeks later, he again called
    the weather service, asking "Are you absolutely positive it's going to
    be a cold winter?"  "Absolutely!" he was assured.  "In fact,
    it's looking more and more as if it's going to be one of the coldest
    winters on record."




    "How can you be so sure?" asked the chief.



    The weatherman replied, "The Indians are collecting firewood like crazy!"

    Ba-da-BING! 

  • Thanks to Carolyn, Babushka Emeritas of the Waybourn's Russian Federation (on their mother's side), for sending me a cool link regarding the most popular names sorted by decade, per the Social Security Administration.

    The very uppermost region of the 1990's has the boys' names one would expect, with Michael being  #1.

    Would never have guessed the #1 girls' name, however . . . . Ashley?

    It's not that it's not a pretty name, for it surely is, but I wouldn't have thought it was the most commonly chosen.

    Here's an odd thing.  I've run into far more Bethany's than Brianna's, yet the former is #118, while the latter bagged the #29 spot. 

    And how about this for an strange pairing!  Boy's name #813 is Darwin, while the girl's is Infant.

    Infant?  That's a NAME?  Sounds like the parents couldn't agree on anything and just gave up trying. 

    Scrolling all the way down, it would seem it's not the TOP 1000
    registered names, but the names, period, seeing as how the girls stop
    at #1000, while the boys keep on through 1010. 

  • In a sea of ho-hum National Day to Recognize This, That, and T'Other, I'm pleased to find a day that makes sense.

    National Pie Day. 

    Yup, this very Sunday, the 23d of January, is National Pie Day. 

    You know what to do. 

  • Exactly what methodology is employed when companies decide which names to put on personalized items?

    It's not like "Dmitry" is some weird, wacky, throw the alphabet into the blender and see what's spit out name, you know.  Nearly everyone has HEARD of it.

    Try and find anything with that name on it, including some small
    personalized jingle bell ornaments Foley's carried.  I swear, they
    had available nearly every name one could think of.  Except
    "Dmitry."

    Destiny.  They had Destiny.  Just how many Destiny's do you know, huh?

    You want Haley?  It's there.  Plus its alternative spelling, Hailey.  Chad.  Quincy.  Hilda.

    Hilda!  When was the last time you ran into a Hilda?

    But a nice, normal name like Dmitry?  Nope.

  • Mercy Maud, do you realize there are NINE official inaugural balls? 


    That doesn't count the most coveted event, the Black Tie and Boots Ball, going on as I type this, and sponsored by the Texas State Society of Washington, D.C.  On eBay tickets for it were fetching upwards of $1,250 a pair.


    The winning bidder must've heard the Kilgore Rangerettes and Asleep at the Wheel were going to be there. 


    Inaugural balls date from 1809, when James Madison took office.  He and Dolly charged for admission at the door, then watched everyone dance from a platform.


    The spirit of American enterprise!  Gotta love it. 

  • Now that's the kind of news I like to get.....

    I'm gonna be a great-aunt! 

    Jeanne just called, telling me Justin and Jill are expecting a baby, either in August or September. 

    Do y'all remember when they got married a couple of years ago?

  • Opening the Avon brochure, I find an advertisement  - in the inside cover, no less - for "ageless skin at 25+".

    Hey, Jessica and Kirstin!  You know that blush of youth?

    Forget about it.  It's gone.

    You nearly-26 and just-turned-30 year old hags, you.

    Turn another couple of pages and there's "ageless skin at 35+".

    Uh  oh.  This can't be good.

    Flip to the next page and it's "ageless skin at 45+".

    They're gettin' down to brass tacks, now.  This is the Ultimate
    face goo.  What on earth could they have in store for those who've
    passed the 55 year mark, I wonder? 

    Not a dadblamed thing.  Zip.  Zilch.  Nada. 
    Apparently if you aren't already Taking Steps, you might as well give
    it up.

    Here's a product that has a feature with which I'm less than impressed
    . . . mascara which  "washes off easily with soap and
    water."  What masochist would use SOAP to take off eye
    makeup?  Last time I got soap in my eyes it still hurt like the
    dickens. 

    Moving on to the noncosmetic offerings there is a NEW Classic Angel
    Fountain.  Since when is an angel pouring water out of a terra
    cotta jar a classic?  It's pretty enough, ye ken, I just don't see the call for dubbing it as classic.

  • What the heck happened to Avon?  

    This afternoon I was dropping some mail off at my eldest son's house
    and laying on the porch was an Avon brochure in a plastic sleeve.

    Having sold Avon many moons ago I was curious, and knowing that
    Jonathan would toss it into the trash (assuming he stooped over to pick
    it up at all, which is debatable) I took it with me.

    Scrapbooking supplies?  DVD's?  Cookbooks?  Barbie and Madame Alexander dolls?  Thomas Kincade?

    Mercy Maud once.  Mercy Maud twice.    Mercy Maud eighty-seven times over

    Avon, I hardly knew ye. 

  • 88!!!

    That's what Dmitry made on the 3 weeks math test today, covering beginning algebra.