Blog Rating Notice

Ladies and Gentlemen, it has come to my attention that a terrible thing has happened to this blog.

This blog has slipped in its ratings.

Yes, dear readers, this blog has slipped to a PG-13 rating.

That simply will. not. do.

So, in light of this (and the obvious fact that I haven't discussed poop within recent memory, nor have I ever mentioned condoms), I give you the following three "post-ettes" in an attempt to raise this blog to its former glorious R rating:

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Cat Poop
Our cats are notoriously finicky creatures. If the litter boxes have not been scooped for, say, thirty minutes, they start clearing their throats and glaring at us prior to entering.

Now Daniel will continue to enter the litter boxes even up until they're scooped (twice daily -- it's frequent with three cats). Granted, he gives a long-suffering glare at whatever two-legged creature happens to be nearby, but he goes in the box, attempts to cover what he's done -- and at 12-15 pounds he isn't that successful despite the size of the box -- emerges, and proceeds to ignore his servants for at least fifteen minutes.

Patrick displays his disgust only when he's sick to his little gastro-intestinal tract, which leads him to doing such interesting things as going to the human bathroom to poo on the floor beside the human commode.

Now if only we could teach that boy to get on the commode, we might have something worth pursuing.

Emily, though? When her Precious Princess Poopy Palace is not scooped to her satisfaction?

Carpet.

Preferably in one of the kids' rooms.

Because she likes to hear them squeal.

Preschool Poop
Upon returning from dinner at my parents' house one night, I was apparently not moving quickly enough toward the front door.

My utter slackitude resulted in the following monologue from my younger son, who was waiting for me with his big brother at the door while I lugged in several tons of groceries:

"Oh GWEAT!

I dust poopded in my undoopayunts.!

I ated too much and it dust pushded it wight aout!"

(yes, he really does talk like this, and we have to fight the urge to mimic him... hee)

He had likely tried to pass gas (one of his hobbies) and got an unexpected result. I told him it was okay, it was an accident, etc. He got into the bathroom and got cleaned up. All was well.

Until I made this post, that is. Me blogging about this is yet another one of those things which will doubtless be revisited in my now-four-year-old's future therapy sessions.

Condoms
I know this comes as a shock to most of you, but my husband and I occasionally like to indulge in a bit of maritally sanctioned intimacy, also known as nuptial nookie.

Well, to accomplish this without changing our 1:1 kid-to-adult ratio, we use condoms (long story... short of sterilization or an IUD, both of which I'm considering -- the former for him, the latter for me -- it's all we've got).

Since I get to do most of the shopping, I'm usually responsible for procurement.

Unfortunately, I do most of my shopping with the kids, which leads to some hasty choices at times, especially if I wish to avoid the eight-year-old trumpeting, "What's a condom, Mama?"

So yeah, good times.

Anyway, the last time Himself and I decided we'd be killing off a few more rubber trees, he asked me, "Do we have any?"

"Sure honey, on the bookshelf by your side of the bed."

He looked, picked up the packets, and raised one eyebrow at me.

"Spiral ribbed or mint tingle????"

I shrugged.

"That's what happens when your wife buys the Party Pack."
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Must post and re-check the ratings... a moment, if you will...



Ah yes. Much better. We're BA-ACK!

Nerd Test

Well, I took the nerd test I found over in the sidebar at Scott's blog:



Heh. And why yes, yes I'm finding things to do to occupy myself rather than smoke. Why do you ask?

By the way, Scott, welcome to my blogroll*. May God have mercy upon your soul.

*(You'll show up as soon as Blogrolling stops dragging its feet...)

Edited to add: My husband took the test. Same score. Hee.

Blonde

My husband and I are watching Legally Blonde this afternoon, which led to the following conversation:

Me: Did you notice your wife is slowly going blonde?

Himself: Yeah, I did. And what's that all about anyway?

Me: Uhm... I'm having fun?

Himself: You do realize you lose 25 IQ points when you do that.

Me: Stealth intelligence, sweetheart. They'll never see me coming.

Grocery List

This conversation took place after several hours worth of disjointed "We really should get [insert item here]" notices by each of us, re: the grocery store.

Himself: We need eggs, too.

Me: Okay, when we stop by the grocery store on the way home from lunch tomorrow, you and I can both try to remember everything we need.

Himself: Somebody should write it all down.

Me: Yes, somebody should.

Himself: :looking pointedly in my direction:

Me: :looking pointedly at Himself: So, you're going to write it down, right?

Himself: Me?

Me: Yes, you.

Himself: Huh. I'm supposed to write it all down. Alrightie then.

(Somehow I suspect no one will write anything down, and we'll end up at the grocery store rattling our brains in the hopes that a relevant memory will somehow make its way down the chute...)

AaaaCHOO!!

Can anyone tell me just why my cats insist on congregating in my bedroom at night when they have the run of the entire house?

Usually the wee beasties aren't permitted in the master bedroom. However, someone who shall not be named (koff... the spousal unit... koff) left the bedroom door open when he came to bed last night.

I woke up around 3:00 a.m. to see Miss Emily batting my toothbrush around in the sink, Daniel staring intently into the bathroom, and Patrick purring on my chest.

Remember those cat allergies I have? Yep. So of course Patrick picked the allergy-afflicted one as his bed.

I practically boiled my toothbrush this morning. I know exactly where Emmy's paws have been, and it ain't pretty.

Anyway, I managed to herd the cats out and was almost asleep again when my husband, for reasons known only to himself, decided to get up.

He went out of the bedroom and shut the door. I went back to sleep.

I woke up at 5:00 a.m. to three cats piled on top of me, and our bedroom door once again open.

Someone who isn't me may be sleeping on the couch tonight.

With all three cats.

HP 7... GACK! (no spoilers)

I now have Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in my greedy grasp, and am on page 132.

Very interesting. I'm yelling at JKR due to certain things in the book thus far, but... very interesting.

AND... I haven't skipped to the end to see how it turns out, which is somewhat amazing for me. Here's hoping I can continue on and be surprised.

Jut a thought... don't read the chapter titles, and don't read the opening quotations. Just start at Chapter One.

And Chapter Two is really quite cool.

Angel and I had a great time at the release. We both had our elder children with us, and her brother-in-law also came along and laughed his ass off at the two of us together.

A video was filmed of both of us babbling. I have suspicions it will be aired. Be warned, I scratch my face at one point and near the end it's totally obvious I'm chewing gum.

Okay, that's all. Back to reading.

Famous Last Words

Your Famous Last Words Will Be:

"What we know is not much. What we don't know is enormous."

What Will Your Famous Last Words Be?

Actually? Yeah. That works for me.

Hat tip to Monkeygirl.

Book Slut

Yep, that'd be me.

I have my hands on Mary Janice Davidson's latest, Undead and Uneasy. This particular segment has me in stitches:

[Tina] "Until I return, do not answer the door. You will not try to contact anyone who has gone missing. You will not answer the phone unless the caller ID tells you it is me." Her subservient tone was long gone; this was a general thinking fast and issuing orders. "Your Majesty, you you understand me"

[Betsy] "Uh, sure. Simmer."

"I will simmer, " she hissed [note from AJ: Betsy points out that Tina is an Elizabethan Lady, who simply Does Not Curse, slightly before this], "when I get a few heads on sticks. And the devil pity the rat fuck who gets in my way."

"Yeesh."

"Heads. On. Sticks."

"I got it the first time."

On that happy note, she hung up.

Again, snerk.

Vacation Pictures

I've been promising vacation pictures. Here is the first round. More to come once I get a few more pictures of the backs of my family uploaded!

First, if you'll look over to the sidebar, you'll see my two offspring staring down into Talullah Gorge. This was after I'd told the shorter of the two about five times to stop standing on the railing as he was dramatically shortening his mother's life span.

Hmmm... let's see, what to upload next...

This picture was taken at Anna Ruby Falls, before we actually reached the falls.

And next, a picture of Anna Ruby Falls itself:

More to come later -- promise!

Ask Dr. Rob

Dr. Rob over at Musings of a Distractible Mind has a new feature wherein readers send him their questions, serious or not so much, and he endeavors to answer.

Today I am pleased to announce that he answered one of mine:

Why do I insist on having three cats even though I'm allergic to the wee beasties?

Sincerely,
Amanda, who is typing this with one of The Allergen Laden Ones reclining on her lap

To summarize Dr. Rob's excellent response (aside from speculation about my mental issues, heh), apparently I'm allergic to cat spit, not dander as I'd previously thought. Actually, I'd thought there were two different allergies: one to cat dander, and one to cat saliva, and was under the impression that the dander was more a nasal/ocular issue whereas the saliva allergy manifested on more of a contact basis.

This would be why he's the M.D. and I'm the B.A. He's paid to think about these things. I'm paid (not really, but it would be nice) to go through my blog and endlessly correct little grammatical and mechanical errors that I find.

Now regarding my obvious ambivalence toward my little feline friends indicated by the use of the word "beastie" in my letter to Dr. Rob, he posed these questions, answered herein:

There are a few questions I must first ask you:

Are you nuts?

Some days, I do wonder. Other days I am content with my self-diagnosis of "moderately eccentric."

Do you surround yourself with trained assassins, bent on killing you at first opportunity?

Not deliberately, although my commute to the office would indicate differently.

Do you collect Precious Moments figurines?

No. No, no, no, and again, NO. Shudder.

Have you ever gone to the musical “Cats?”

Yes. I know the entire libretto. Additionally, I can play "Memory" on the piano, and am reasonably proficient with some of the other songs as well.

Do you often play music from the group “ABBA?”

Not personally, although I am sometimes held hostage to it by certain spouses who shall remain nameless.

In closing, Dr. Rob states that my reading of his blog indicates that I'm the type of person who says I deserve all the bad things that happen to me. I do take issue with that, only because his blog is a good thing. Anything that makes me both giggle and occasionally think is good!

He also suggests that I get a goat. I would, Doc, but we're not zoned for them. I know this because our next door neighbors' pot bellied pig was evicted under that ordinance.

I'm sure the cook-out they had the next weekend was just a coincidence.

Superheroines, Blog Ratings, and Other Things

While on my Sunday Morning Blog Stroll I came across What Superheroine are You? at Musings of a Highly Trained Monkey.

She got Trinity. Trinity is cool. Me?

You Are Buffy the Vampire Slayer

"We saved the world. I say we have to party."

What Superheroine Are You?

Well, Angel should be happy. The plus side is I get to hang with supernatural beings which, judging from my library, suits me just fine.

I get my hair re-colored in about two weeks. I'll have to talk to Andrea about going a bit more heavy on the foils. Buffy isn't a brunette and I, arguably (and chemically), still am*.

Of course, she also doesn't have two small children and three allergen-producing felines mucking up her home either. Just vampires and other supernatural entities bent on her destruction.

In other news, I made two pots of coffee today and managed to turn on the coffee maker both times. Go, me!

And just so everyone knows, small children should not read this blog unaccompanied:

Yes, due to usages of "poop", "crap", and "bastard" (apparently "ass-kicking" doesn't count against me) I get an R-rating. Huh.

It's all about the scatological references, folks.

*I realize that just because I scored a "Buffy" on this quiz doesn't mean I have to turn into her. I have been planning to go a bit more heavy on the foils, though. As I age, lighter hair appears to flatter my face more. I'm vain. Deal.

Updates

Update No. 1

I bought my first new "style" of jeans today in about 20 years. Yes, I was caught in the eighties. If you've ever watched TLC's What Not to Wear and have heard Stacey ranting on and on about "ice cream cone" jeans, that's what I've been wearing since my teens. High in the waist (covering the belly button), fuller through the hips and thighs, and narrowing at the ankles.

I always thought they looked pretty okay, seeing as that's how most women are shaped anyway. Plus? The eighties. 'Nuff said.

I managed to ditch my poofy bangs over a decade ago, and haven't had a perm in twenty years. Blue frosted eyeshadow and pale "Pink Champagne" Maybelline slim lipstick no longer reside in my make-up case. But those jeans, those wonderful, comfie, GAP Reverse Fit jeans stuck around.

But this is the 21st century, and I kind of needed to get with the program. So today, 40 lbs. lighter than my 200 lbs. at this time last year, I braved the GAP once again and came out with my bottom half looking much less like a flashback to the Reagan years.

Of course, I sport an amazing case of Plumber's Crack if I bend over more than halfway, but I guess that's the price I must pay not to look like something that should be topped by one of Baskin Robbin's 31 flavors.

And y'all... size 12! Down from an 18!

God I miss McDonald's, but apparently my body doesn't.

Update No. 2

I am heading out in the morning on a family vacation to Unicoi State Park in Georgia. Therefore, it's highly likely that my posting time will be non-existent. My hope is that my pretty shiny new laptop and I will be able to get onto the wireless network at the lodge (a hope echoed by one of my bosses who hadn't finished editing that last spec I was working on), peek in, post a picture or forty, and wave at y'all from up there.

However, if I'm not online for the next week, that's what happened. I'll definitely be back on Sunday, car willing, and will litter this blog with vacation pictures.

Have, fun, stay safe, and I'll see you within a week!

Obituary

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Hee.

Thanks to BabsRN, who got it from Monkeygirl. The boys are both vomit comets today, and I needed a laugh.

Speaking of vomit comets:

Amanda -- [noun]: A deadly strain of projectile vomit 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Oh dear!

Lover Style

Okay, so I tested out what kind of lover I am. Apparently, this is me:

, you're now logged in!

Below you'll find your test result. After, continue on to your homescreen to discover what we're about.

continue to OkCupid homescreen >

The Classic Lover
50% partner focus, 42% aggressiveness, 40% adventurousness Based on the results of this test, it is highly likely that:

You prefer your romance and love to be traditional rather than daring or out-of-the-ordinary, you would rather be pursued than do the pursuing and, when it comes to physical love, you concentrate more on enjoying the experience rather than worrying about your performance.

This places you in the Lover Style of: The Classic Lover.

The Classic Lover is a wonderful Lover Style, and is the closest it comes to the classic images of the princess in the tower, or the romantic and chivalrous knight, or the hero/heroine from a Disney film. The Classic Lover is a treasure to find, though it can be difficult to do so because they sometimes tend to be shy and/or difficult to successfully court.

In terms of physical love, the Classic Lover again can be shy, and often needs more in terms of emotional security to feel comfortable than some of the other Types. Given the right setting, and the right lover, the Classic Lover can be a delight in bed.

Best Compatibility can probably be found with: The Romantic Lover (most of all) or the Devoted Lover, or the Liberated Lover.

Nerd/Geek/Dork Test

I wasn't surprised at scoring higest as nerd...

For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored better than half in all three, earning you the title of: Outcast Genius.

Outcast geniuses usually are bright enough to understand what society wants of them, and they just don't care! They are highly intelligent and passionate about the things they know are *truly* important in the world. Typically, this does not include sports, cars or make-up, but it can on occassion (and if it does then they know more than all of their friends combined in that subject).

Outcast geniuses can be very lonely, due to their being outcast from most normal groups and too smart for the room among many other types of dorks and geeks, but they can also be the types to eventually rule the world, ala Bill Gates, the prototypical Outcast Genius.

Congratulations!


Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in any of the following:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Professional Wrestling

Love & Sexuality

Steve, Don't Eat It!

Oh holy Jesus God... if anyone reads this blog (not that I expect anyone does), please check out this guy's website. The Sneeze is self-described as "Half zine. Half blog. Half not good with fractions. "

The segment which entertains me the most is archived at: http://www.thesneeze.com/mt-archives/cat_steve_dont_eat_it.php

Folks, in the pure interests of journalism and vicarious nauseated experiences, Steve has tried many "food" products of interest that are marked for the consumption of the unexpecting public, including potted meat food product (also linked from an entry on http://buccaneers.mostvaluablenetwork.com -- the guy who writes the featured Buccaneers column on that site had the misfortune to take potted meat food product on an FTX with him, and lived to tell the sorry tale and commiserate with Steve), pickled pork skins, breast milk, infected corn (long explanation), fermented soy beans, prison wine, and silkworm pupae.

A word to the queasy: If you are easily grossed out, this site may not be for you. Please think before you click. However, if you're easily grossed out but curious beyond belief anyway, have a look. It'll be well worth your time.

Just bring a bucket.