"sugar, mr. poon?"

my mom bought me a journal some years ago. the front and back covers repeat the phrase "i will not date unavailable men". chevy chase circa the 1980's would likely fall into this category.

something about the butt chin combined with the manner in which his words roll off the tongue...his tall, dark, handsomeness combined with his dry, sarcastic, ridiculous wit...his perfectly cut hands combined with his puppy dog eyes...the way he swings a tennis racket combined with the way he strolls along as if he doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks...the way his ass looks in a pair of jeans combined with the way his bottom lip is just a teeny bit pouty...he just oozes sexiness.

why is this perfect combination so seemingly impossible to find in 2011? maybe not impossible...just unavailable.

no rhyme

horizontal on the big purple couch
enveloped by the down comforter
humming of hp fills the silence
between bob and jillian's squawks
ziploc full of jelly beans
can't find the damned cinnamon ones
heat from a fifteen pound mew
cheaper than turning up the thermostat
cell phone perched waiting
chirping every time he texts
icy frosty rain swats at the windows
snow in april is absurd

found a cinnamon
could be the last...

fur babies

i find myself home alone quite a bit. i like my time alone. no boyfriend (currently)...no roommate...just me...oh, and those 2 fuzzy lil critters who overwhelm my life with fur. the cats. oh yes, the cats.

at 11 1/2 years old, cecil is my delicate, fluffy, lion-maned, little grandpa kitty. he is a long-haired dark gray boy with tufts of fur that come out in between the bottoms of his toes. when he lays by himself, he will lay on his stomach with his front paws outstretched and crossed at the wrist (do cats have wrists??) like a prissy little rich cat. he is timid and scares easily, but when the younger one gets all up in his personal space, he is not afraid to slap. cat slaps are one of my favorite things. slap-slap-slap followed by a short and to-the-point "hiss", and cecil has made it known. don't "f" with me.

then there's my baby...lewis. affectionately known as "mewis", he will turn 9 in july. yes, i know when my cats' birthdays are! he eats small children for a midnight snack, is constantly on top of me, whores himself out for attention when company comes over, and snores like a grown man. it's disgustingly fascinating. and when he gets excited about something, his little butt wiggles. it scares my mom, but i think it's cute. he looks like a giant toasted marshmallow with fur.

i would like to point out that in spite of the fact that i am 34, single, and have two cats, i am NOT the cat lady. nor will i ever be...at least not for a while...

the lion

 

the mew

frosting...how much is too much

my birthday was two weeks ago, and it was one of the best i've ever had. a combination of friends coming in from out of town, a group of about 15 dancing at the bar all night, parents coming to visit the next day, and a lot of presents. in addition to a nice bottle of wine, a dvd, and a manicure paid for by my boss and scheduled while i was still on the clock at work, i also received a bunch of sweets. what does all this say about me?

~three cans of frosting (two of which appeared on my desk, and nobody will take credit/blame for putting them there)

~bottle of nutella (there is a story behind this)

~supersize box of oatmeal cream pies (genius!!)

~two things of ghirardelli chocolate ball thingies (like an upscale bag of m&m's x2)

~a bag of lindor chocolates

~cupcake chapstick (and nobody to kiss)

~cupcake air freshener for my car

~cupcake book of recipes

~cupcake shaped plastic key covers

my boss (who did give me one of the cans of frosting) thinks my addiction (to frosting) is out of control. but in my defense, i did not gift myself with these things. i don't like to waste food, so i must consume it all, right? one at a time, i am tackling the presents.

you may be wondering where the frosting addiction originated. here is my conclusion...i have been working for a company for just over two years. they happen to have a bakery which makes cupcakes the size of a softball. they are scrumptious. i could easily eat 2 a day...but i don't. so, once i discovered the chocolate cupcake with the buttercream frosting, i literally died and went to heaven. then i came back. and bought more cupcakes. it is the frosting that makes the cupcake in this case. thus...the addiction began.

i personally don't see a problem here. i am a size 6, went through a battery of tests a few months ago (that's a whole other story) and found out i am extremely healthy, and i do eat good food too. so there! make fun of me all you want, but at least i don't hide my addiction.  :P

the blog

well...in a continuing attempt to spread my sweet self to the masses, i've decided to blog. are you frightened yet?


a few things about me:
frosting=my latest addiction
sunflowers=always make me happy
cats=have two that constantly keep the fur flying

i don't know where this will end up, but i need some sort of outlet for my craziness...so...ready, set, blog!