Fuzz & Fluff

Beauty in Furr-Form

It occurred to me this evening that I haven't blogged since the new year began. I have lots of happy things to dwell on right now, which is an incredible contrast to some of last year's life changes (see most-recent blog post for details). The holidays were extremely tough, but I had work to keep me busy, and friends to keep me sane ;) Thank God for my babies! They reminded me to keep my spirits up, and I sailed into the new decade quite hopeful... and I haven't been let down. Persistence and patience *sigh* are wonderful qualities. While my persistence is nothing short of one of my finest qualities, patience does not come naturally to me. Quite honestly it doesn't come to me at all. But somehow I've managed to practice it over the past few months. Patience pays off. :0) *big happy smiles*



As I sit here with my new-ish-to-me Himalayan kitty cat, Sasha, I realize that if you have been reading my blog for a while (I've made it past the one year mark, by the way! *self pat on the back... or ass... or wherever*), you probably know that I'm an animal lover. Yes, I have degraded helpless pets in the past by writing mean stories about them, but deep down, I love them to pieces. Sitting here with my lovely Sasha, I can't deny it... I'm smitten with a cat ^^= ♥!

Sasha became part of the family on December 9th of last year. She's been with us for over a month now, and she is an absolute delight! She's good with the kids, although I have decided against getting her declawed, due to the fact that the poor little fluff needs to play defense now and then, and the fact that a kneading, loving cat is just, well... natural. While I have had pet cats declawed in the past, it strikes me as funny now, as we tend to not de-fingernail (or de-toenail, for that matter) humans, unless they have been incredulously naughty (in the bad type of way, not the rawrrrr type of way)... so why subject our poor kitty to the ripping out of the claws. I'd rather not.

As I tend to get off-track, let me get back to the subject at hand, Ms. Sasha. I first learned about the dear poof ball from my best friend Anne. She mentioned that there was a kitty hanging out way out in the country, in the cold and snow, and although Anne's friend and her neighbors were feeding Sasha, she didn't have a real home. This went on for a few weeks. One night Anne sent me a picture of her, and I instantly became giddy! It had been over 5 years since I had a kitty... and I happen to LOVE Himi's and Persians, so this was like a dream come true. I did have plans to get a kitty this year, and that is still the plan (yes, Sasha will soon have a brother or sister... unless they are fond of each other, and then that's just incestuous and gross)... I just didn't count on a beautiful purr baby falling in my lap like she did. I'm thankful for her.

The night Anne took the kids and I out to meet Sasha, I was excited. I had a bit of guilt, because I was intent on waiting for a pet... but as soon as I saw her, I fell in love. I had to have her! She had to come home with me! She was needy for attention, and just beautiful as could be. She looked like an angel, and she had to be mine.

I bought the bare necessities for our girl... litter box, liners, litter itself, a bowl and food. Sasha was a hair skiddish at first (she found comfort under the Christmas tree and hiding in some duct in the basement), but she soon came around! She is now miss sociable Sasha. Everyone that stops over loves her! And it melts my heart when she sits in the window seat in the early mornings, watching the kids and I scoot off for the day. Nearly every morning I hear "bye house, bye Sasha" as we're driving down the road. She's just as much part of this house as our house is now, if that makes any sense. Basically she's a fixture. She moves, but she's a fixture. Huh... moving on... fixing to move on... jeez, just move... :P

While I'm on the topic of pets, my lovely-as-he-could-possibly-be boyfriend sent me a link tonight to a video on youtube. I watched that video, and then I stumbled onto several more. If you are an animal lover, you will find pure enjoyment just from watching this 41 second video by Parry Gripp. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2F4EFYM_MA&NR=1

And this is the video that made me dig for more: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMWi7CLoZ2Q&NR=1

And one more... if you are a cat lover, you will appreciate these very useful flushing felines... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hcuv9RuO0NE

Check out youtube for more. The bunny at the end of video number one made me giggle and cry at the same time.

So, in closing, as you've probably heard, people who have pets are happier people. Statistics suck, in my opinion, but this I happen to believe. I truly missed having pets in my life. I'm happy someone neglected their beautiful cat... I'm sorry she spent so many nights in the cold... but I'm happy she became OUR house cat :) She'll be spoiled rotten for the rest of her 9 lives.

Moving Day: Trusted Tips to Get the Job Done

Below are moving tips for the open-minded mover. Since my husband, children & I will be moving in just a couple of weeks, I have researched and racked my brain as to how to pack & move most efficiently. Here is what I've come up with:


-Be optimistic. Every house has a closet, room, attic, basement or garage to hide those items you are too lazy to unpack. Utilize it!

-Enlist lots of help & then take an advanced pole-dancing/stripper class, throw out your back & you won't have to lift any heavy objects. This excuse should only be used once. Otherwise your family & friends will assume you're a sneaky whiner. You are, but they don't need to know that.

-Use your new stripper/pole-dancing skills to get free boxes, moving help & money for the big day. Don't be shy. It's the economy's fault, and no one should feel guilty for bettering themselves by making other people do their work.

-To help pay for moving expenses, have a 21 & older yard sale. Display photos of your posing with your new stripper pole. Remember, you can charge more if you're still crippled. So work it girl!

-When you are packing items you don't really want, but feel you should keep because they were gifts from your mother-in-law or great aunt Nola, pack them neatly, throw them across the room (accidentally of course), mark the box "stuffed animals" and laugh uncontrollably while hitting every pothole you possibly can driving to your lovely new home (if there are no potholes, just drive off the road a few times). You'll be minus a few ugly heirlooms, and you'll have a fabulous excuse when asked why the cock-shaped syrup dispenser is not being displayed in your new kitchen.

-If you are tired of snail mail, when filling out your change of address form, list the address of someone who can't stand you. They don't want to see you, so you'll never see a bill again. Send them a box of half-chewed candy every now & again with no return address to be found. It's the thought that counts... even if the thought is evil.

-Consider having a departure party & a housewarming party. Hold signs and a can stating you will lose your new home if you don't get donations. You're still crippled, so you won't be bothered by people offering you jobs, & this is an excellent way to decorate your new pad.

-If you are single, ask 10-25 hot guys over to your new house for a 'date' and ask them to bring their tool boxes. When they all show up simultaneously, serve Hors'Devours and explain that this date will be similar to an episode of the Bachelorette. Tell the men to decorate your house, but don't tell them how the game is won. In the end, throw out the best decorator... he's probably gay. The winner can be chosen by checking out asses while the men do their work. Pow! Decorated house!

-Invite your new neighbors over for tea. Spike it. You'll get the juiciest neighborhood gossip, and you'll be known for having the best tea parties.

-Hire a 5-year old to clean your old house (you know you don't wanna go back). Tell them you pay by the age per hour. If you're really poor, and your stripper skills are not paying off, a 2-year old may be more feasible. Tell them they only have 5 hours to complete the job. Ten bucks baby! Now, if you're REALLY, REALLY poor, offer to pay them with a ring pop and a can of Mt. Dew. Maybe even throw in a baby doll head. Tell them they can have the body if they agree to be your new gardener. Continue breaking toys in half until all of your odd jobs are complete.

That concludes this edition of Moving Day. Please check back for more money and time-saving tips. Happy Moving!

Pink Casket & Denis Leary Sitting on my Desk

Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate chip cookie or a five second orgasm. You cum, you smoke the butt, you eat the cookie, you go to sleep, wake up and go back to fucking work the next morning, THAT'S IT! End of fucking list! -Denis Leary

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0248752/quotes

I tend to agree with Denis (about everything really). Happiness truly does come in small doses. I normally wouldn't drop an F-bomb in my blog, but hey! It's a quote... I didn't say it... Denis did :D

I am so utterly excited about several things right now!

1) We move into our new house September 1st. Bigger house, bigger yard, a sun room with skylights (I believe this will become my new happy place), closer to work (sorry Joel... further for you), kid-friendly neighborhood, buying rather than renting & a full basement to banish the kids to (do NOT call CPS... this is a JOKE :)

2) My babies start preschool this year. This makes me jerk with tears and giggle with happiness! On one hand, I am losing my lovies. They won't need me anymore. They are already shunning hand-holding and insist on scooping their own food onto their big-people plates. It makes me teary thinking about it. On the other hand, we are THAT much closer to 18 and freedom. NO I'm not trying to get rid of my kids... but it's good to have things to look forward to. As you roll your eyes, you know you're secretly agreeing with me.

3) Vegas! I'm going to Las Vegas in October with girl friends from work. OMG! The excited feeling I get when I think about Vegas is over-the-top, out-of-control, higher-than-any-illegal-drug CRAZY happy! We are on a strict budget due to the fact that I am not happy with ONLY a new home, but I also need a VACATION. Viva Las Vegas Baby!

4) The Beach! I don't know when. I don't know how. I don't know why, but I LOVE THE BEACH! The beach is literally my very favorite place in the world. I have many, many places I want to visit (and yes, I will see all of them cause my Bucket List says so), but the beach will, to me, will always be the most beautiful place in the world. And I'm not talking about a beach on the Scioto River... I'm talking about the OCEAN! The ocean people! I'm tellin' ya.... I love it! If I could fondle it and grope it I would! It's just that damn irresistible.

5) Vacation Bible School. Yep, I realize I'm a curser. I love it. That's one of those small things that makes me happy. Foul language. I have an English friend who curses like a sailor (do you know how much I wanted to add an F-bomb there?), and it cracks me the hell up! The thing is, my kids are going to be hanging out with other cool kids (and some bullying twit-peeps, I'm sure) next week at VBS... this is the first event where we will be dropping them off & leaving them. They are so excited, and Mom is too... I'll cry that entire week. Bang boom badalada... just give me narcotics, cause I'll be a weeping willow tree the whole freakin' week. Double my meds. That's what I'll do.

6) The beach in my new house! I will be decorating our new sun room in beach decor. Know what that means? I can go to the beach every damn day! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah! I'm thinking of sand instead of carpet... and a big tank people can swim in. Hmmmmmm.... brb... calling the decorator now.
Damn, he told me I was crazy... back to square one.

So moving on, if you were to see me on an every day basis, you would realize that the smallest things in the world amuse me! Here are some of those things:

1) The copy machine at work, get this, STAPLES and SORTS! It's freakin' awesome!

2) The coffee pot, get this, can be PRE-SET! So when I wake up in the morning, my coffee can be sitting there ready to burn my tongue! It's fabulous!

3) We aren't even close to being to the end of the 22 episodes of Rescue Me this season! Just this show alone could make me run after rainbows & find the end & drop kick a martial artist with the adrenaline alone.

4) My new house has a 4-car garage! I don't even own that many cars. In all honesty I don't even own one of my vehicles. The van still has many moons of payments on it, and the car is Dad's. I'm 30. It's good to have the bills paid :P

5) Budgeting to go to Vegas, go to the annual craft show (hey, I buy Christmas gifts there!) and buy a new house... even if it means we eat rice, bread, soup beans and corn from the field for the next few months :P

6) My computer at work has an absolutely amazing picture of Denis Leary on it, and my screen saver is Rescue Me. I say goodnight to Denis before I leave work. He loves me.

7) Good hair days. If my head is full of curly-cues and they are all over the damn place, I'm fanatically happy! If it's straight, dull and blah, the happy level is kicked down a notch. I'll stick with the kinks ;)

8) Catalogs! Oh my God, give me a catalog and I'm on cloud 9! Put me to bed, give me a stack of catalogs, a 6-pack of Down Home Punch, a telephone and a credit card with a fabulous limit, and I'm in heaven! I'm not high-maintenance at all. I just happen to like stuff, money and booze.

9) When I am caught up on paperwork, I literally think my co-workers should throw me a party, buy me a male stripper and have him feed me strawberries of the chocolate-covered variety. I like to be praised. And I like to be praised well. :P

10) Turning 30. Yes, I turn 30 in December. December 1st actually. I expect gifts... and a surprise party. Please? I act like I dread 30, but I really just want all the attention attached to it. Didn't you know? I like to be the center of attention... I want people to remember me when I'm gone. Oh, and I want a pink casket, so anyone who is still alive when I kick it, help me out with that. i also want Gavin DeGraw to sing at my funeral. See, even my funeral excites me!!!!!!

I have to tell you... it's good to be delusional. It's good to be amused by the teeny tiny perks in life. As I've said before, my thought process may not be healthy, but I'm happy, and that's all that really matters. Oh, that & my kids... I like them to be happy occasionally too.

Pink Casket! Don't forget...

Back Bumps... Cleavage From Behind...

I saw back cleavage today. I didn't realize it existed. It gave me an overwhelming urge to research the condition... was the woman I saw just carrying weight in her back, or was she blessed with two sets of funbags? I may never know...

This happened at the bank. I was in line... the window I was standing at closed, so I had to step behind people who had just walked up to the other line. It irritated me slightly, but me being me, and the fact that it was Friday made me realize that it was in fact, no big deal.

The woman I'm speaking about was facing me when I first changed lines. She was talking to her very thin friend, and they appeared to be annoyed with the bank worker. I found it slightly humorous. When the woman turned around with her back to me, my eyes grew. Those big huge puppy dog eyes I've always wished for appeared. Then they turned into saucers... I had to look away or there were going to be after-4th fireworks right there at the bank! I thought my eyes may explode. Back cleavage! Who knew?! I was amazed!

This poor lady was wearing a very tight, low-cut tank top and her back and front sides looked identical! I couldn't help but wonder if she had two butt cracks. I am not so rude as to take a picture of this... although I really wanted to! In all honesty, I was just afraid I would get caught. If there hadn't been people standing behind me, I so would've had a picture of that cleavage. I've never been into cleavage, or boobs for that matter, but back boobs are really quite amazing!

The front crack and back crack had no dissimilarities! I wondered if they made bras for this poor lady... bras that have front and back cups... and where would the bra fasten? On the sides maybe? Talk about an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder! I soon realized that it didn't really make a difference... this woman obviously didn't believe in bras at all. No bra straps to be found. I looked on in wonder...

I couldn't help but ponder if this woman would be considered a God-send among men. So many guys love boobies! Did it matter that she had bulges protruding from other areas? Guys, tell me, if you knew a woman with four tits, would you really care how the rest of her body looked? It's exactly like the butter-face scenario... "everything's hot butter face".

I've never understood the boob fascination, whether they're front boobs or rear boobs. It's amazing to me how much men love these bags of fat. Seriously! If we were carting around fat bags like that on our arms, we would be considered hideous! Is it the nipples that make the difference? If women had big fat bags hanging from their ass cheeks and they had nipples, would men find that attractive? I'm not so sure they wouldn't... the male population is obsessed with titties.

I was once involved with a leg man. I understand the leg thing. Legs are hot! But the breast thing throws me for a loop... I guess the good thing about having a boob man... we don't have to shave em. Keeping up with my stems for the ex was quite a chore! The boobs are easy. Either hide em away or flop em out & you're good to go. Men don't care... they'll take em any way they can get em.

I'm a little disappointed right now. I just looked up the definition of back cleavage on Urban Dictionary (a funny site by the way if you haven't been to visit) and this is what it says:

Back Fat: When a fat lady (particularly old), wears a swimsuit or bra that is too tight in the back and it squishes the back fat together to give the illusion that there are boobs on their back.

I did some further investigating, as I was not satisfied by the definition above. I found a photo of the beautiful Alicia Keys, who believe it or not, had back cleavage at the Grammy Awards! So even hot chicks can have back breasts! How strange!

I also found a video on YouTube with a song dedicated to back cleavage. You must see it! If you enjoy stupid humor like I do, you'll giggle and maybe even snort a bit. I did.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9S0oqCk6sRI

I wonder if women with back cleavage enjoy their extra pair? I wonder if the men who love them look at their back breasts longingly when they are behind them, and their frontal breasts when they are facing them.

Men, please weigh-in here and let us ladies know if you enjoy a nice pair of back boobs.
Inquiring minds want to know...

Off to look at my back in the mirror...

Ladies, be thankful for your knockers, and gentleman, be thankful you have women who are ready & willing to share their pillows with you. Yes, we are all blessed.

Kissin' the Curb

I really don't remember ever blogging when I'm pissed off. I thought this could bring a new perspective to my oh-so-sweet image! HA! As I've mentioned in previous posts, I smile sweetly at people, say hello to everyone who crosses my angelic path, and think only good of others. Tonight this is not the case. I'm just irked. Mad, pissed, angry, evil... whatever ya wanna call it. I'm just AHHH! It's definitely NOT the night to mess with the Kelly. I may scream in your face or start laughing uncontrollably. You just never know when circumstances like these arise.

I'll start at the beginning...

I was visiting my best friend Sunday night. I took a trip down to the gas station to grab some Subway. We've both agreed in the past that deli meat sandwiches are not at all fun, nor a treat, but it was that or Taco Bell. The choice made itself.

So anyway, I get to the gas station & I'm feeling a bit woozy. This isn't too different from my usual state, so I don't think a lot of it. I stepped out of my car and immediately twisted my ankle. I then fell over a curb, fell onto my knees and then onto my nose. I had my glasses on, so the middle section decided to cut into my face. It was fabulous. And to top it all off, I then fell onto my forehead. Priceless!

To rewind this scene, I'm sure I would laugh hysterically, along with the rest of my friends & acquaintances, who all assume I had been drinking when this incident occurred. Just so you are all aware, I was not inebriated. I was, however, drinking grape sugar-free Kool-Aid, which I hear causes green bowl movements. How interesting! I'll get back to ya on that one!

So after falling in slow motion, I then sat on the pavement, unable to get up. A guy walked out of the gas station, looked at me, didn't say a word and got into his car. I smiled at him. How nice that he stopped to make sure I was okay. Asshole!

Then a lady ran to me and asked if I needed some napkins. I felt my face, and when I looked at my hand, I freaked out just a little more. I was bleeding! A lot! Sure lady... bring me some napkins. I stared at her blankly. What I thought had come out of my mouth hadn't. But she went to get my napkins anyway.

When she got back, she asked if I needed help up. I explained to her that getting up at that point wasn't gonna happen. I think she thought I was crazy. She was right :0) Hehe.. okay, so a little smile just emerged from my irritability. Dam it.

So, after I was holding some napkins, I put the contents of my purse back together, grabbed my evil glasses (I will soon be a full-time contact wearing diva) and stood up. Oh woozies.. it woulda felt good if it didn't feel oh, so bad!

I got in my car. A man ran up to me and asked me if I was okay to drive. "Probably not, but I'm gonna" I said. I then drove back to the nursing home. I called my mom, who works there, to ask her if there was any way to get to my friend's room without walking by the nurses station. No such luck. I had an older resident compliment my purse (thanks, by the way, lady!) on my way to my friend's room. Of course, there were several people sitting at the nurses station, and although I was trying to cover my oozing face, they noticed. LOL. Damn giggles.

Nurse Jennifer took care of me. She asked me if I knew my name, where I was and what day it was. I felt so proud! I knew them all! I was secretly hoping for a sticker, but once again, no such luck.

So, to make a longer story a bit shorter, I went back to my friend's room, my husband & kids picked me up (I wasn't sure if I should drive, because although I wasn't drunk, I'm pretty darn sure I couldn't pass any cop tests.. you know, walk & turn, HGN, etc. I'm not even sure I could do those things on my best non-drunk day), and we came home. My mother, husband and best friend informed me I should go to the hospital. I refused. That's right. I refused treatment.

So I've had a killer headache for 2 days now. I know I should've went to the hospital, but it was Sunday night, and the thought of sitting at the Marion General ER just didn't sit well with me. I'd take my chances. If I went to the hospital, I'm sure they would've just told me I was dehydrated or I had an upper respiratory infection, and sent me on my way... I said a nice prayer just in case I didn't make it through the night. (Stifling more giggles as we speak.)

Well, I made it.. and still today (Tuesday) I have had a terrible headache all day. So I went to the doctor today, and they informed me they want to scan my cat. How fun! I've never had a cat scan before. I figure it's a couple minutes of quiet, right?! Who cares about the claustrophobia. I get peace! Bring on the machines!

Tonight when I got home, I explained to my babies that I needed quiet time. Mommy's head was pounding. Daddy had been up over 24 hours, and neither one of us had much energy. The kids decided to scream at me louder than usual (or maybe it just felt that way since I feel like my head is full of lead pipes) and Joel decided to play Rock Band. I tried to catch up on my Young & the Restless in the bedroom, but do you think that worked? Heck no! The kids follow me everywhere. I know I sound like a fantastic Mom right now. I love my kids dearly, and I don't know what I'd do without them (okay, so I do... I'd vacation... for a long, long time), but sheesh! Give me a break!

Well, Abbi now has to poop, Aiden is throwing an economy-size package of baby wipes around the living room and Logan is jumping on Aiden. I have to go. Please pray for me... and forgive my cursing. It's a bad habit... but I enjoy it.

Kisses to all. Hope you all are just swell.

Kelly ;)

My Personal Lala Land

So sometimes I find that I live in a state of denial. I justify things. I don't lie. I sugarcoat. I don't want to hurt people, and I don't want to hurt. I want to smile... all the time. I want to enjoy this one life we have. I want to exude the exuberance that has come to be expected of me. I enjoy being silly, and I do occasionally take pleasure in being the center of attention.

I also like to give other people the floor, and I love to hear the inspirational stories of others. I like to help people who are hurting. I think it's amazing to hear about people who have overcome astonishing obstacles, lost loved ones, have nothing left, and still they manage to go on.

I have been a rollercoaster of emotions lately. For the first time I am having a difficult time seeing light at the end of the tunnel. I have been in denial about even this. I have actually been living in this euphoric state, and although I have known for some time that it isn't healthy, it has been my coping mechanism. Today I am crying for no reason. I look at my children and feel so blessed. I look back at my life thus far and see a series of mole hills and mountains. It's beautiful reminiscing, and it aches at the same time.

My personality will not allow me to dwell on these feelings for long. I may post a blog entry tomorrow regarding my insane to-do list and my favorite types of alcoholic beverages (another effective coping mechanism for those who are pleasantly delusional like me). I just need today to dwell. Just one day... to actually allow myself to experience sadness without feeling guilty about it.