Why Can't They Get Along?

Is it just me or does your mind scream ANITA BLAKE every time you see the pups in the cam cuddling "like a pile of puppies?" ***grin***

I spent much of yesterday retraining Bad Puppy. I don't know what it is about Alpha Males, and Bad Puppy is definitely one, but they act like everything should be theirs to mark/mess with even after months/years of training. Take Alpha Male who has recently returned from his month long baseball tournament/fun. I can't seem to convince the guy that the stuff he pulls with his gang in hotel rooms is not going to work here in my house. And that used glasses and dishes are supposed to go back to the kitchen because there is NO MAID SERVICE.

Also, while he was gone, Bad Puppy has reverted back to his love of sleeping ON the pillow next to me (which I don't mind because it's cute to wake up and have a sleeping little dog cuddling in my neck), so he isn't too pleased to have his place usurped by That Other One again, so...of course he does the usual--he lifts his leg and marks the pillow. Then Alpha Male lies down on it, yells and curses, and chases Bad Alpha Puppy all around the house.

Now, because of this pattern of antics, I have lots of new pillows stocked in the closet, but man, you'd think, after doing this a dozen or so times, one of them would be trained by now?! I live in hope ;-).

This kind of territorial behavior is often shown in our romance books, of course. An alpha male tends to like taking over the heroine's world and it takes a strong female protagonist to NOT let that happen. Done right, it's often amusing to read, especially if the alpha hero starts getting steam coming out his ears. But in real life, sometimes, the feeling of pounding one's head against the wall repeatedly is prevalent. Because the Alpha Male just does not LISTEN well, from man to puppy. But they love you to death, though ;-). So the payoff is pretty good.

Maybe I'll invite them to my Thanksgiving party after all, ha!

So, are you planning a big feast at home, or do you drive to a friend's/relative's house like me? I'm not a very traditional person, so I tend to spend my holidays in weird ways.

I truly understand how hard it is if you're alone too. It isn't easy working up the holiday spirit. If you don't have family nearby (like me) or generous friends to take you in, please consider going to a diner near your home. They're usually open for the locals and their turkey dinner special is reasonably priced because the clientele showing up usually consists of retirees with fixed income who don't cook any more or singles. Through my twenty-some odd years without my family, I've done that and have enjoyed the experience. Sometimes, just taking the time to dress and go out is good for the soul. Of course, nothing beats sleeping in all day ;-).

Anyway, I hope you make this Thanksgiving a bit more special because we deserve it after such a turbulent year. Drive safely if you're going on a trip. Call an old friend if you're staying at home. And watch the turkey if you're cooking one because one year, many moons ago, my mutant poms stole and mangled mine.

Lastly, if you're trying the turducken, let me know.

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Monday MeMe

These questions are weighing on my mind. Can you enlighten me?

1) How long does your vacuum cleaner last? Do you repair it when it goes bad or do you just go to Target/Walmart and buy a new $40+ one because it's more convenient?

Me: I buy a new one. I break vacuums a LOT because of the dog hair.

2) Are you drinking less bottled water?

Me: I seldom drink bottled water.

3) Do you get uncomfortable when you're at your friend's house and you hear her teasing her four year old son about his "girlfriend"? And that he was kissing her?

Me: Extremely for me, although I don't show it. It just seems so...too young.

4) How many books do you read a week?

Me: I try for two, but averaging one a week now, sometimes even less. Mostly because I've been running around looking for jobs and since it's mostly reroofing, I'm beat by the time I sit down at night.

5) What's the most interesting spam title in your email box?

Me: "Enlarge your lovetool." Well, they must know I read romance.

6) What is the difference between were-whatever and shapeshifter?

Me: I don't know. That's why I'm asking you. I still think sexxoring with King of the WereRats is really, really weird. A giant rat in your bed. Argh. And if it's the King of WereSwans, would he be insulted if your bed was filled with down and feathers?

7) What is the weirdest thing in a romance book that creeped you out?

Me: Long ago, when I first read Feehan's Carpathians and found out that they sleep in the soil, and actually almost forcibly forced their "changed" human mates to do that--no coffin, nothing, just burying themselves--it really gave me the hibby-jibbies. I mean, yeah, they didn't breathe when they were down there, but for some reason, the being buried thing really reinforced that they were "not alive" in daylight. For some reason, I could accept that when I read Ann Rice's Lestat because, you know, that's horror and was supposed to be horrific. I don't know. My psyche is a strange, strange thing.

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A Side of Uber Ferret

Tell you what. I'll forgive Paul Tolme (sorry my puter doesn't do the accent over the e) calling what I write schlock and trashy this time. I don't care how HOT everyone is saying the pic on his website looks. Yeah, he'd probably look good in a loincloth on a Cassie Edwards cover.

Paul Tolme is the author of the infamous ferret that was the first thing ferreted from Cassie Edwards' books in the plagiarism scandal. Check out his essay about his discovery that his beloved ferrets were in the middle of a sex-ay scene:

http://www.newsweek.com/id/94543/page/1

His observations were humorous and his run-through of an Edwards' plot was accurately wry (and made him very attractive) as he referenced the ferret scene, poking fun at how "awkward and clunky" the dialogue was (meaning his written words that were plagiarized). But. He still made many dismissive remarks about romance readers, calling them "horny" at one point. Perhaps unintended, because the essay was funny and he was illustrating a point about the ludicrousness of a naked OMG romance moment with the appearance of a family of ferrets, but still give ammo to those who mock romance readers.

True, our kind of "wildlife" reading material may be worlds apart from Paul Tolme's love of wildlife. His last few paragraphs about the dying ferrets are poignant indeed. Perhaps he doesn't know that we are readers of ALL KINDS of books, even about wildlife and science, and that some of us crazy romance "bitches" may be supporters of his causes.

I mean, how would he feel, if people look at him and say, "You save ferrets? Aren't they all rats?" with the same disdainful demeanor that some people use when they comment, "You write romance? Aren't they trashy?"

Just a morning thought. GQ HOT he is ;-). I shall now dub him Sir Knight Ferretio.

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Speaking about wild life, I'd like to announce that the incomparable Ranger Buddy started school yesterday. Sniff. I felt like a proud mamma.

Ranger Buddy, for the new visitors, is my roofing partner. Because of the slowdown in construction, he's taking the opportunity to go back to school to be a nurse. But first, he has to take all these classes -- math, English, Psychology.

He's already in trouble, folks. His English teacher is from Hong Kongwho claims he's an existentialist. He gave a short lecture to the kids plus one old dude (heh) about free will and predetermination and asked whether there were any questions. Sure enough, from the back of the class, the old dude said: "Free will and predetermination all goes down the drain on Friday when you run to the bank with the paycheck. That's when you show a lot of faith in that printed piece of paper, son."

Bwahaha. I've a feeling that English teacher is going to have his hands full of smart ferret shit.

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You Can See What I Meant

REMINDER: VIRTUALLY HIS ARC CONTEST
See Feb 15 post (VIRTUALLY YOURS)

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LAST NIGHT'S YAWN FEST

Here are samples of last night's Prom Night At The Oscars.

1) Jennifer Hudson: Nice color but what's with wearing a size one silver satin jacket? Does it even keep you warm? Pockets are nice in a gown but walking down the red carpet with your hands in them? Not good.



2) Penelope Cruz aka The Golden Duck: It's muted bronzy gold, with enough feathers for March Of The Ducks. At least she doesn't have a peanut head like Jennifer Lopez last year.



3) Cameron Diaz aka Napkin Woman: Like I said, my mom would have approved. I can so see her lying on top of a giant plate with silverware.



4) Naomi Watts: In washed-out yellow. And too cheap to get an entire wrap. I did like her hair, though. Marilyn Monroe is back, have you notice?



5) Maggie Gyllenhaal: those strips of different material, I'm told, are called ARCHITECTURAL ACCENTS. She should beat her dresser black and blue for this.



6) Jennifer Lopez: She's the Grecian babe. This gown actually looked quite lovely on stage. But I don't know in this picture. High-waisted designs always makes one look either pregnant or out of proportion.



I couldn't find you Meryl Streep's Oscar Prom Dress. She's always good for a gulp. Send it to me if you have it.

So the boldest color was blue and everyone thinks washed out plum/mauve/puke is sophisticated. Yuk. Where are the usual hot glamor girls this year, anyway? Where's Charlize Theron? Halle Berry? Uma?

But we still have Gywneth, who's a hit or miss, depending on what she does with her boobs. I like this gown. It has ARCHITECTURAL lines. And it is different (no strips, no patches, no feathers, no glitter, no one strap, no overtightness, no strange combo, no washed-out vanilla yellow, no prom-night pinko). It's a nice Oscar dress.



Oh btw, I miss the bling bling this year too. Last year, we had enough to need sunglasses. I tell you, this year, everyone is thinking "save the world, save the diamonds." Sigh.

I shall always fondly remember this:



Or Kim Basinger, 1990, where are you?

Seriously, they knew how to dress for the Oscars back then.

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Uber Winter Brrrrr

Well, Old Blogger has forced his hand and given me no choice than to update and move my blog to New Google Blogger. I've resisted as long as I can because uber spies are like that. Google is the big Poly waiting to take over the Internet, you know ;-).

Anyway, I'm crossing my fingers that the "move" went well and nothing in the blog has been changed or is lost, like they'd promised. Actually, I suspect they've hidden the mark of the beast in the template. I'm doomed, I tell ya, doomed.

And this new option of labeling. I know lots of people love this feature but I hate it. Why? Because now I have to think. What am I writing about? Does it serve any purpose? If not, should I label it "nonsensical nonsense?" And must my life notes fall into neat categories? Would His Jedness approve? I think not. You see? You can't give a Philosophy major any option to label her life. It drives them crazy.

The last two nights had been the coldest in Central Florida for a few seasons--freezing weather, even a hard freeze further north of C. F. As you know, my airconditioner-heater went kaboom and so I don't have heat. Now you know why I keep so many mutant poms--live electric blanket ;-). The B. B. (beloved bodyheater, as I call him) isn't in town, frozen to death under five foot of snow at his end, and it serves him right because he should be here KEEPING ME WARM. Why wouldn't he listen to me? It's not as if he needs to mow the lawn or fix the sprinklers or tighten his plumbing. I should label this entry Male Obstinacy.

Boy, don't I sound grouchy when I'm cold. ;-) Now you know why I live in Fl. My hands and feet feel like they belong to a vampire and on the roof, my nose is always wet and my neck is scrunched up because it's windy up there and it's wet, yucky, freezing, miserable wind all day long. Can't you tell I'm so looking forward to my day outside? ;-P Not.

I remember my first winter alone a looooong time ago in another galazy far, far away. I arrived at college in mid-semester so I didn't really have any friends or a place to stay. They put me up as a "guest" in some abandoned building (it's not exactly abandoned, but no one stayed there at night, as far as I could tell) and they didn't turn on the heat at night! I was seventeen and thought I was ready to die when my breath started frosting up in clouds of steam at night in my own room.

I learned about the electric blanket and went off to buy one the VERY NEXT DAY. Ahhh. Heat for the night. However, no one told me that I needed a barrier sheet between the itchy wooly electric blanket and my 17 year-old sensitive skin! I remember thinking that these Americans must be a very very miserable bunch of people to have to sleep like this all winter. LOL.

I finally found the answer to my wintry misery by getting my first B. B. Yes, peeps, I lost my virginity because it was freaking MINUS 60 degrees that winter. Ya see? Cold weather corrupts.

I didn't bring that electric blanket with me when I came to Florida. Like most snowbirds, I didn't know that it does get down to the 20s and 30s here now and then. But I found the greatness of Mutant Pomeranians ;-), my live blanket. Ahhhhh. Nothing like sleeping with a pile of hot puppies. What, you think Anita Blake was the only female to come up with that idea? Ha.

I'll adapt to New And Similar Blogger, just as I did with the electric blanket--uncomfortable at first, but with a few adjustments, it'll keep me warm until the B. B. comes back to where he belongs. Of course, then I have to deal with blanket warfare. But that's for another label.

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