My Tragic Obsession

OK. I admit it. I'm completely addicted to the JK Rowling books.

It all started because the crazy uber-Christians were freaking out about these books driving America's youth to Satan (somebody's got to teach them some manners). I had to see what it was all about. Ever since then... well, the wizarding world has consumed me.

At first I would reread the books until the next book came out. I would tell myself that they were "good bedtime books" that didn't involve a lot of thought. Then I discovered fan fiction. Yes, I admit it's horrible, but I can't help it!

It's an illness I think. I really don't have an addictive personality. I don't like gambling. I think it could be a procrastination tool. Maybe going back to school later in life--and going straight through to get my MBA is the reason I read this crap compulsively. Hmmm... I don't know, I think I'd play computer games instead of homework too. I think I'll stick with blaming the crazy uber-Christians.

Note: crazy uber-Christians is not meant to insult anyone with relatively normal religious beliefs--you crazy nutso people know who you are.

Oh, and by the way--I got an Outstanding on my WOMBAT (Wizard's Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptitude Test).

Six Weird Facts

Ok--Evil Attila tagged me. Now I have to come up with Six odd or unusual things about me. I'm sure my coworkers could come up with more (but they don't know about these things... ok, they do know about the Harry Potter addiction--because a number of them share it). By the way, at work, I'm Hermione Granger--and I don't want to hear any nasty comments about my obsession with elves (I'm also Fred Weasley).

1.) I like to pop zits. I know, it's gross. However, if I see someone I don't know with an oozing zit, I get so disgusted that I start gagging.

2.) I used to have an outtie, but now I have an innie. (mom made me have plastic surgery at the age of four.

3.) I do have back problems, but sometimes (usually) I exaggerate them to get the ball and chain to clean the litter box.

4.) I'm addicted to Harry Potter and it mortifies me.

5.) I'm the youngest of five--and the only one who was adopted. What--four kids wasn't enough??

6.) I can play the trumpet, piano and guitar. I used to be able to play the tuba as well, but I think I've forgotten how.

I'll tag people later... Really!

Here are the people I'm tagging (and I'm apologizing in advance)... Miss Litzi and that's it for now--because I don't really know anyone else (other than Rhonda's Ruminations, but that darned ATM already snagged her...) in blog land. I reserve the right to torment people at some future date.

Now--I copied this part from ATM's blog, but as I'm stating the fact outright--I don't need to cite her blog, do I?

Here are the rules of this tag (I guess it's like a chain letter that will never go away!):1.Go write 6 weird facts/things/etc. about yourself in my comment box and on your blog, then tag six more people!2. Then leave a comment that says “You are tagged” in their comments telling them to read your blog. ENJOY!

Boxer Shorts and Thongs

I'm really not trying to be mean. I'm not trying to judge, but wouldn't it be better not to show the world your underwear? (Or--if you're in the UK, don't show me your pants--unless I really would like to see them.)

When I was getting my undergraduate degree a few years ago (I went back when I was old), there was a really obnoxious girl who sat in front of me in a couple of my classes. She was loud and bossy. She was a big girl--not that there's anything wrong with that! But she would lean forward in her chair and her thong would show.

It was like a train wreck. I don't want to look at anyone's thong! I think they're gross. One of my classmates turned to me and said, "those are actually boxer shorts, but they're too tight." It was mean, but we laughed anyway.

I thought the big girl thongs had passed from my life, but tragedy has struck again. We have a new girl working in our department. I'll call her CT (that's what we call her behind her back here--by the way, we generally don't talk about people here...). Anyway, CT is a big girl with a high squeaky voice. She's lazy, whiney and a complainer. She also talks nonstop. She's intrusive and annoying.

CT wears really tight pants that show every pocket in her butt as well as her underwear lines. Last Friday she wore a thong. Everyone saw it. Our manager was vomiting her cube. I was sobbing quietly. The worst part was when two coworkers noticed that she had a wedgie... in the front (there had been rumors--hence the nickname) . The coworker who witnessed the travesty started bleeding from the eyes. It was bad.

What's the deal here? I don't think I'm intentionally starring at girl's butts! Why are the quadruple x thongs showing in the first place. Shouldn't people wear loser fitting pants? I don't wear tight pants!

Why are both of these girls relatively hideous in the first place? Would I be so grossed out if they were nice?

Cats and Needles, Needles and Cats

I have two cats. This does not indicate that I'm a crazy cat lady. I admit that I drink some herbal tea, but that should not be an indication of pathetic, lonely lady syndrome or anything horrible like that. Ok, I knit too. This is getting worse every minute. Look, I would have a dog too if I had the time. I used to have rats. Rats aren't crazy cat lady pets, right?

Anyway, this is my horrifying tale of woe. My oldest cat was recently diagnosed with the beginning stages of kidney failure. Now, this is pretty sad--not only because he's my cat--but he is the nicest cat around. He's really friendly and a total spaz. I've known cat haters who became cat lovers because of this cat. He's the bomb, he really is.

So, Oscar (that is his name) now has to get a subcutaneous fluid push twice a week. I get to experience that joy (I'm not complaining--the father gets to do the litter box--sucker). It's pretty gross, jabbing a needle into the cat. But that's not the horrible part of this story.

A few months ago--I think it was before Christmas--I was giving Oscar his injection. After the injection, I was attempting to remove the needle from the IV line and I stabbed myself in the finger. After it was in the cat. I stabbed myself so hard that I still shudder at the memory.

My finger is still a bit numb, but I know the nerve damage will heal eventually (it was just a needle... nerve damage??), but I can't help but worry about the new habits I've acquired... the incessant licking, the hair balls and the overwhelming need to sleep for 23 hours a day.