Separate checks?

After grabbing burgers at Jack Astor's, Joe was eating leftover fries off my plate when our waitress approached.

Waitress: Will that be separate checks this evening?
me (in-my-head): Yes, two checks, and please charge this jerkface for half my fries!
Joe (for-realz, while giving me the look): Just one check will be fine, thanks.

Why would the waitress assume a man and woman out for dinner, just the two of them, would want separate checks? Did I somehow look unworthy of my husband?

Maybe if it was lunch during the week and we were in business attire. But a man and a woman on a Saturday night? Yes, there are situations which may warrant separate checks. Dating but going dutch would be one. Friends dining together would be another. Isn't it far more likely though that the pair are a couple of some sort? Even if it's a date, last time I checked the man usually ponies up the cash. Otherwise, he's severely handicapping his chances of getting any.

PS: After all that, my husband left her a huge tip. "What, she's quite pregnant, in case you didn't notice. She's serving for two!"

Which, I think, is absolutely brilliant. Pad your tummy, pad your tips. I bet everyone tips the pregnant lady generously. If I ever take a job as a waitress, I'm totally getting a fake baby belly.

Endangered species

I was excited to tell my friend, SomeMonkey, about a recent meal I had with Joe at a seafood restaurant:

me: did you know you can eat dolphin?
i thought it was illegal for some reason
SomeMonkey: did you know there is a fish called "dolphin"?
me: ooooooooooooh
i bet that's it!

She's pretty smart for a monkey.

Who am I?

I'm not feeling very original today but thought I could introduce myself by way of survey. Really, I'm not a big fan of this kind of thing so you won't be seeing much of it here. Just trying to fill in a few of the blanks about who I am, in case anyone cares.

Name: you can call me Cate
Birthday: 3/26
Birthplace: the North
Current Location: the South
Eye Color: brown like a cow
Hair Color: brown like a chocolate lab
Height: 5'4"
Right Handed or Left Handed: right
Your Heritage: diverse but mostly western European
The Shoes You Wore Today: red patent leather kitten heels
Your Weakness In Men: brains and wit
Your Fears: spiders, car flags, death
Pet peeves: ignorance and getting my name wrong
Your Perfect Pizza: banana peppers
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: world peace and global celebrity
Thoughts First Waking Up: "Beats the alternative"
Your Best Physical Feature: elbows
Your Bedtime: quarter past boredom
Pepsi or Coke: Pinot Noir
McDonalds or Burger King: Hardees or Bojangles
Chocolate or Vanilla: chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee: coffee
Do you Smoke: no
Do you Swear: more than I like to admit
Do you Sing: only in the car and shower
Have you Been in Love: several times
Do you want to go to College: already did
Do you want to get Married: already did
Do you believe in yourself: I totally exist, just like the Easter bunny and armadillos
Do you get Motion Sickness: yes
Do you think you are Attractive: on a good day
Are you a Health Freak: I run and try to eat healthy
Do you get along with your Parents: there's a reason we live 600 miles apart
Do you like Thunderstorms: yes
Do you play an Instrument: guitar, piano
Ever been called a Tease: maybe...
How do you want to Die: old
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: happy
What country would you most like to Visit: as many as possible
Number of things in my Past I Regret: none, they've all made me who I am (though maybe the jalapenos just before bed last Tuesday)

On (Not) Writing

A year ago, I wanted to be a writer. No idea what that meant, but that was the plan. Move from my current job into marketing? Copy editing? Maybe a job at a newspaper or magazine? I took classes, wrote my heart out for NaNoWriMo, read books about writing, and scribbled fabulous notes full of story ideas and characters and scenes.

Ready to put my plan into action, I slaved away for months developing a brilliant project that would meld my love of the interwebz with creative writing. Many hours were spent devising the technical approach and brainstorming the story idea. With my plan of attack thoroughly developed, I enlisted the help of a writer-friend and a coder-friend to make magic happen. My mama (ok, someone's mama, probably not mine) always told me that if you put in the time and effort and believe, you can do anything! And I had faith that this was going to be ground-breaking and life-changing.

Instead, it failed abysmally. We did everything right. Advertised, linked, posted on related sites. People responded and visited the site! But they did not stay. Or they did not return. Or they did not discuss, which was necessary for the project to succeed. And so rather than contemplating sequels, I was left wondering where it all went wrong.

That was summer of 2007. I completed NaNoWriMo again that November and haven't written a thing since other than a stray blog entry here or there (which I don't consider 'writing' based on the type of effort/content).

I don't think I'll do NaNoWriMo again this year. I'm uninspired. I thought about taking another class and that didn't pique my interest either. Instead, I'll just blog away and see if I can relocate my elusive muse. She must be hiding around here somewhere...

Disappointment

Main Entry: dis·ap·point·ment
Pronunciation: \ˌdis-ə-ˈpȯint-mənt\
Function: noun

oatmeal raisin when you were expecting chocolate chip

Cat scurvy is contagious

Now the other cat, Tonya, has scurvy as well.

Rusty finished his 7 days of antibiotics and ear drops without causing too much damage to me and Joe but then he developed a constant sneeze and a fever. An emergency trip to the vet after work, several shots, and another $250 later, he's back on another 10 days of antibiotic pills.

While this sounds like a bad thing, that's not the worst of it. Unfortunately Tonya, our uncooperative fluffy diva cat, also started sneezing Friday night. By Monday, she was a complete snot monster, not breathing well, not eating. So another $120 later and now we have both cats on pills. At this point, I also have to believe we've paid the vet's rent for the month.

Tonya, by the way, has a reputation. Any time I call to make an appointment, I can hear the lady hold her breath while she waits for an answer to "which kitty is it?" and she prays silently that it's Rusty. Once, when Tonya was sick and they had to keep her for testing, I noticed a "DANGER: bites!" sticker on her cage. Awesome, my cat is bad-ass.

So that's the latest. This isn't actually supposed to be a cat blog. I'm not a crazy cat lady. I mean, I may be crazy. And I do have cats. But it's not like that.

Or maybe it is.

Look for something non-feline coming soon!

Caturday

Main Entry: Cat·ur·day
Pronunciation: \ˈka-tər-(ˌ)dā, -dē\
Function: noun

day on which humans wish to sleep in but are unable because kitties want to be fed at 7am

I see a nap in my future.

Apparently we have a hot neighbor

In case you haven't heard, there's a presidential election coming up in less than a month. I look forward to it all being over for a million reasons, among them the ceasing of phone calls and removal of annoying yard signs.

Note: I'm registered as an Independent. While you'd think I would get more calls because my vote's more likely to be up for grabs, I haven't received a single call or piece of mail. My husband, who has registered with his party of choice, receives constant calls and mail. Who's the smart one? (Hint: me!!!)

Anyways, back to the yard signs. I hate them. I think they're tacky and I think they don't mean anything. Everyone knows who the candidates are for the presidential race. What good does it do to put a sign in my yard advertising my vote? I'll tell you what good it does - it tells everyone my vote! Which means anyone who disagrees with my vote now has reason to target my house with trash, eggs, rocks... No, I don't live in some unsafe 'hood. I just live in my own little world of paranoia.

Joe (the husband) never mentioned signs this political season until the neighbors across the street placed not one but two (TWO!!!) signs in their yard for the opposition. We'll call them Team A so as to avoid the politics. Joe's response was that of any grown educated man - he wanted to put twelve signs in our yard for Team B. Even though we're voting for the same candidate, I said no. He argued that he was afraid everyone driving by would think our entire subdivision supports that other candidate because their house is right on the corner but finally he relented (only to put the sign in the front window of his office upstairs - don't think I didn't notice!!!) and we moved on.

So imagine my surprise to come home last night and find a yard sign sitting by the front door, ready for installation.

me: Umm, what's the deal with that?
Joe: It's a yard sign!
me: I didn't ask what it was. I asked what the deal is with it.
Joe: I was getting the mail when a neighbor stopped me. She asked if by chance I was supporting Team B. When I said yes, she asked if we'd mind putting a sign in our yard.
me: Why? What difference does it make?
Joe: She said a bunch of neighbors were afraid people driving by would think our entire subdivision supports Team A and seeing those signs makes them angry. Just like I said!
me: And you said you would.
Joe:I couldn't really say no. So she came back later and left us a sign.
me: Why couldn't you say no?
Joe: It would've been un-neighborly?
me: No, that's not why. Was she hot?
Joe: What's that got to do with it?
me (more firmly): Was she hot?
Joe: (no answer)

Which means the answer is yes and this is why I now have a political campaign sign in my front yard.

My cat has scurvy

Or maybe he's having allergy issues. But scurvy sounds much more exotic.

However, it is truly the cat-owners who are afflicted by cat-scurvy because it is up to us to administer the "cure". In this case, two drops in each infected ear and a pill. Twice daily. For seven days.

As the patient regains his health (and strength), it becomes more and more difficult to give Rusty his meds. Especially since we have to give the first dose before we're really awake in the morning. Right now, we're up to dose #3 (of 14) and already he's learned to pretend-swallow the pill before spitting it back on the carpet. He bit my husband, causing blood and drama and a large amount of cursing in the early hours before sunrise.

His pills are awesome by the way. They come with a label printed just like on my own medications from the pharmacy. It says: "Give 1 tablet by mouth every 12 hours until gone. Give with food. Notify clinic if stomach upset occurs." Rusty's not very good at telling me about his stomach upset. Unless you count that surprise he left on the hall carpet. "Hello, my cat says those pills are making him queasy. Should I give him some ginger ale and saltines or do you have another suggestion?"

Maybe the same nausea remedy for kitty will work for that feeling in my stomach when they handed me the bill.

It's a good day for blogging

New day, new start, new blog to celebrate.

Here I go!