My animal science professor, a PhD (albeit in dairy cow fertility) says "species" for plural and "specie" for singular. He also says " a vertebrae" when he means "a vertebra" and he says "we humans" as both subject and object instead of "us humans" when he needs an object pronoun, as in "taurine is essential to any specie in the cat family but not to we humans."
My toilet paper has hearts quilted onto it. As if the floral lattice weren't enough. I am not sure how I feel about wiping my hinder with quilted hearts.
People who joke about somebody missing her pill today don't know what they're talking about. If they did, they would know that missing her pill doesn't make her abnormally energized; it gives her the same symptoms as a coke or heroin addict in the early stages of withdrawal. While this is not pretty, it is much funnier than hyperactivity if mocked with a knowing eye.
One of the cats sometimes drops little turds around the house that stay stuck to his butt when he does his business in the box. My husband tells me that Wembley has left me a surprise to pick up. My husband does not touch catshit himself.
The horse unit at school, which is half of my educational experience, is full of christian-right republicans who look away with pursed lips when it comes out that I'm Mormon. Just outside LA! Somebody please tell me what it means to "Ride For Jesus" because I don't understand how the Savior of the world benefits from people riding horses recreationally on his behalf.
Somebody at church overheard our conversation with the ward secretary and used our remarks about having animals in the house as a segue into a sales pitch for his air-filtering products. He had some in the car right then if we would like to give them a try in our home for a month or so. We would be amazed at the results. This while standing outside the bishop's office after church.
Nori's recent posts remind me that while I would dearly love to write a caustic memoir, nobody would ever talk to me again if I did. The frustrated genius and chronic complainer inside weep together as I covertly binge through my husband's ice cream. Got to run and replace it before he gets home. It's hard work remembering how much of it to carve out of the fresh container.
6 comments:
1. Fortay instead of fort.
2. Did you know they make scented TP? Sure to cause an infection.
3. I've missed a pill. It's not pretty.
4. The SIL, she sounds like a piece of work. More stories about her. And possibly a photo.
5. Catshit causes toxemia and you shouldn't touch it because you are a woman of childbearing years.
6. Also, a photo of riding for Jesus. Do they wear robes? Reenact Mary?
7. Sales pitch at church. He should get disfellowshipped. Ask Steve Covey how he used gospel principles to make his millions....
I've missed 3 pills (not the BC kind, the other kind, but those too). But then I have to call all my friends to see if ANYONE HAS ANY VALIUM NOW.
This is a good place for ranting. Negativity boosts readership.
yes, i can see that my fan base has risen from 2 all the way to 2. actually i shouldn't leave nor out.
it's a beautiful community you live in if friends have valium handy to share. and you say you're the not-desperate housewives!
there are so many stories about the SIL that i could have a devoted blog. i still grapple with anxiety about being discovered and disowned if i let it rip about her. she's pretty sensitive, you know. obviously.
i have explained to the husband more than once that whenever i am pregnant i can never, ever handle the cat box unless he wants me to get toxoplasmosis and abort. he's got the smile-and-nod down pretty well but i have seen no evidence of comprehension or resignation.
you can ride for jesus, truck for jesus, run for jesus (not in the political election sense, though that would be a good story), knit for jesus, anything for jesus. all you have to do is do whatever you do all the time already and then say you're doing it for jesus. the logic eludes me.
don't even get me started on steve covey.
Your comment on the boobs hurt made me think you might have a little announcement to share. Do you? Huh?
I hate it when I get diseases wrong. Toxoplasmosis, are you avoiding the poo?
no announcement. that was an unpleasant experience all around, especially since the husband totally had his hopes up even though we agreed not to have kids for a couple of years.
and i must needs handle the poo because Adrian will not do it. he does let me know when he thinks the box is too smelly so i can jump to it. it's one of his endearing quirks. i also have rabbit box duty almost exclusively, in spite of somebody promising me that he would be in charge of cleaning up after them . . .
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