Monday:

Me: Cleo, on Saturday we're going to the vet.
Cleo: That's nice. When's dinner?


Wednesday:

Me: Cleo, on Saturday we're going to the vet.
Cleo: Sure. Listen, my mouse is stuck under the oven, can you get it for me?


Friday:

Me: Cleo, tomorrow morning we're going to the vet.
Cleo: Okay. I know I had dinner already, but could I please have a little more? I'm really hungry.


Saturday morning
Approximately 7.30am

Me: Okay, Cleo, I'm going to go out and warm up the car and get all the ice scraped off so we can go to the vet!
Cleo: Do I have to do anything? Because I'm in the middle of a power nap.
Me: You just lay there and look cute and contemplate getting into your carrier peacefully.
Cleo: ....carrier?

7.36am

Me: Cleo! Time to get in your carrier!
Cleo: ....Why?
Me: Because we're going to the vet.
Cleo: WHAT? NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT A VET. YOU DID NOT TELL ME ABOUT THIS VET. SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE TO GO TO THE VET?
Me: Since you aren't able to give yourself a rabies shot. Okay, time to get in the carrier!
Cleo: HELL NO.
Me: Okay, back legs in first...
Cleo: GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, BITCH.

7.37am - 7.48am

17 Attempts to put Cleo into the Carrier of Doom
10 Cat Scratches on various human appendages (including one that drew blood)
2 Treats used as (unsuccessful) bait
1 Really, really, really, really, really mad cat
1 Exasperated Human

7.49am

Me: Okay. We're going to try this again.
Cleo: I'M WILLING REPEAT MY YOWLING AND TWISTING PERFORMANCE, SURE. BITCH.
Me: No, we're doing something different. I'm getting your harness and leash.
Cleo: ....Harness?
Me: You like your harness.
Cleo: ....Yeah.....
Me: So you put on the harness, and your leash, and I'll carry you.
Cleo: ....What's the catch?
Me: No catch.
Cleo: ....I'm not sure I trust you. Bitch.
Me: Well, I'm not sure this will work, so we're even.

7.52am

Me: Cleo, it's very sweet that you want to ride all the way to the vet on my lap, but really, I sort of need to DRIVE.
Cleo: YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL.

7.53am - 7.59am

Cleo: YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL.
Me: Um, are you going to do this the entire way to the vet?
Cleo: Yes. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL.

8.00am - 8.17am

Cleo: YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL. YOWL.

8.18am

Enter the Slapstick:
So we get to the vet, and I even scored good parking, right around the corner. Nuthin' to it. With a firm grip on Cleo (and her leash wrapped around my wrist just in case), and the carrier over my shoulder, we stared walking to the vet.

We were GREAT until we reached the corner.

And then we turned the corner. Couple of construction workers saw me, and got huge grins on their faces. "She wouldn't get in her carrier," I explained, and they laughed.

We make it past them, and the vet's office is in sight - it's right there - it's so close - I can practically SMELL it.

Which is when.

Jackhammers: RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT.
Cleo: YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.

All of a sudden, the somewhat calm cat in my arms became BLURRING TWIRLING CAT O' FURY. I couldn't hold her, she spun right out of my arms, and straight for the nearest door. She actually CLIMBED the brick wall in an attempt to get away.

Luckily, we were in something of an alcove. It wasn't quieter, exactly, but Cleo couldn't see the &*^#$ jackhammer going, which was helpful. I was able to gather her back up, whisper in her ear (which she likes, it's calming), and try to calm her down. I peeked around the corner --

Jackhammers: RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT.

Now, here's the thing. The jackhammers? Were doing their thing RIGHT ACROSS from the vet's door - TEN FEET AWAY. There was no dodging them. And try as I might, I couldn't get their attention. All I needed was for them to stop for TWO MINUTES. Not even! And I could carry Cleo easily into the vet's office, and they could rat-a-tat-a-tat all they wanted all the live-long day.

But no. There was no attention. There was no stopping.

So....I got a good hold of Cleo...

My fingers around her harness...

Held my arms in tight....

AND RAN.

I think I just about exploded into the vet's office, with a chorus of Angry Cat Yowls and RAT-A-TAT-A-TATs. The carrier went one way. Cleo went the other. I stared at the receptionist, who stared back at me.

Me: Hi. Appointment for Cleo, 8.30. Can we please go straight into an exam room? Please?
Receptionist: Oh, sure.
Me: I love you.

End result:

1 Rabies shot in the back right leg
1 Distemper shot in the front right leg
1 Extremely Amused but Sympathetic Veterinarian, who thinks Cleo is the cutest thing on four legs (she is, but that's beside the point)
$126 paid for services
(Putting the 9 pound 3 ounce Cleo in her carrier for the ride home was free, but would have been worth twice that)

9.18am

Me: Well, Cleo, home again, home again. You can get out of the carrier now.
Cleo: Why? Kind of nice in here.
Me: OMG, Cat.
Cleo: Wait - I get a treat now, don't I?
Me: YES.
Cleo: Well, jeez, no reason to YELL about it.
Me:
Cleo: Bitch.

Cleo: Good morning! Don't forget my breakfast!
Me: Cleo, it's 4.30 in the morning.
Cleo: No, it's not. It's 5.30, and breakfast is in half an hour.
Me: Actually, Daylight Savings started yesterday. It's 4.30, and breakfast is in an hour and a half.
Cleo: What's Daylight Savings?
Me: We turn our clocks back an hour so we can save daylight. Basically, instead of going to work when it's dark and coming home when it's light, I'll be going to work when it's light and coming home when it's dark.
Cleo: That's stupid.
Me: Tell me about it, cat.
Cleo: Anyway, breakfast.
Me: Is in AN HOUR AND A HALF.
Cleo: I don't do Daylight Savings.
Me: You and the cows in Indiana.
Cleo: BREAKFAST. BREAKFAST. BREAKFAST. BREAKFAST. BREAKFAST.
Me: ARGH.

Nano word count: 1,229 this morning. I don't like Daylight Savings much, but at least I'm waking up an hour early so I can fit some writing in before work.

It actually felt like winter today - it was overcast and cold. Yesterday was gorgeous, if a bit nippy - Cleo and I actually went out into the front "yard" for a little bit, and she examined the sidewalk and nibbled on the grass and inspected the flowers before collapsing under the tree to survey her land. I would have taken her out today, but it seriously looked like rain, and I don't much want to deal with a cat who has been caught in a rainstorm. (Although I bet her reaction would be SERIOUSLY funny.)

In other news, I wore my contacts on Sunday and Monday ALL DAY LONG and had no adverse effects, until about ten minutes ago when I had to take them out.

Yay!

This morning was spent at the movie theater watching the new movie about Coco Chanel - excellent film. Once in a while, I actually understood what they were saying, too, which pleased me to no end, until I realized that what was being said bore no resemblance whatsoever to the subtitles.

(Having a TARDIS must make foreign movies a breeze, is all I have to say.)

I was hoping for prettier clothes, but then it is meant to be Coco before she became Coco Chanel, so a bit of dowdy was to be expected. It was nice to see her actually sewing things, though - I've worked with far too many designers who wouldn't know how to thread a needle, much less actually draft a pattern. (And let me tell you - the best designers are the ones who actually know what they're talking about. There was one designer who would sit and sew buttons on for us, in her down time. Which was handy, because she kept designing period coats with five thousand buttons. You kind of have to wonder - did she agree to sew on buttons because she knew there were so many? Or did she design the coats with so many buttons because she wanted something to do later on? Anyway, she's the designer who gave me the rendering of the costume I built for her, so she's forgiven, either way.)

I also bought a pilates mat, to go with the pilates DVDs I found at an estate sale. (Do not ask if I actually did pilates this weekend. Far too busy playing with the cat and testing recipes. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

Well, that's four agents, down, 19 to go.

And amazingly, I got back a response from one already. It's a "thankyousorryhaveanicelife", and not signed, either, so I have no idea if it came from a minion or from one of the actual agents. I suspect minion. But yay for at least responding, it sounded as if I wouldn't hear back unless they wanted to see it at all.

Cleo, the Mighty Huntress, caught a cricket this morning before breakfast, and was seriously upset when I picked it up with a paper towel and threw it away. I think I may have offended her honor, or at least taken away her mid-morning snack. I'm not overly worried, if it's cricket season, she'll have plenty more snacks hopping around in the basement, I'm sure.

So Bill let me open my birthday presents a bit early - well, two of them, anyway. The third is still sitting in an Amazon box and I'm not allowed to open it just yet. (But I can tell you it's very light and small and I'm betting it's a movie of some sort.)

Bill: What do you want for your birthday?
Me: Colin Firth. Failing him, David Tennant.
Bill: I'll see what I can do.

The first present was the Doctor/Rose/Lady Cassandra action figure set, so I guess that fills the David Tennant requirement. (Perhaps the movie has Colin Firth? One never knows.)

But the SECOND present...oh, the second present is a doozy. It is - and I'm quoting from the box here - a "Micro Talking Dalek Classic with MENACING Dalek Motion!"

I should note that the MENACING Dalek Motion basically amounts to me being able to swivel the head, move the eyestalk, and point its laser gun thingie. Also, in the manner of toy cars, when you pull back on the Dalek, it zooms forward on its own. And if you press the back of its head, it says one of three things: "Extermine!" "The Doctor is an enemy of the Daleks", and then a third thing that I can't quite tell what is meant to be, but sort of sounds as if the manufacturers may have mixed up the sound files, because it sounds exactly like how Darth Vader breathes.

(Darth Dalek, maybe?)

Anyway, such a toy demanded presentation to Cleo. Because what fun is MENACING Dalek Motion if you can't scare the cat?

( Cleo, Meet Darth Dalek. Darth Dalek, Meet Cleo )

Having just seen Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince....( I present spoilers, snark included. )


I think it's definitely worth another go - I'm not sure it's worth an IMAX, though, although that would be handy for catching details of the costumes. And I think I want to re-read the book before I see it again; meant to do it this time, but I was busy with re-reading Phantom of the Opera.

*

Cleo, incidentally, thanks you all for your birthday wishes, and would like you all to see how she has spent her day:



This, from the WEE little kitten who showed up at Dulles Airport two and a half years ago!

Right, so when we're all done being overklempt regarding the JB/DT kiss.....

And we're anxiously awaiting the news from this morning's panel, which hasn't happened yet but is sure to already be forming a line of screaming fangirls, all dressed as the Doctor if we're lucky....

It would be a very good time for you to saunter over to writerinatardis and read the thirteen stories up for voting this week. The stories are in two posts, and you can submit your votes here.

Only thirteen stories this week - lots of skips were used, apparently - and I'm one of them. I can't tell you which - but I can tell you that I'm a bit worried, because the quality of the stories this time is just fantastic. I had enormous trouble trying to decide which story to vote into the TARDIS - I would have voted my own, actually, because I hated to ding anyone, except that's against the rules!

Of course, the main question for me is not how I fare (if I get plus one again, I'll have three plus-ones in a row), but whether or not papilio_luna correctly guessed which is my story. I think I know which is hers. We'll see tomorrow if I'm right.

In other news: am finally going to see Harry Potter today. Yes, I know, about time.

But most importantly:

Today's is Cleo's third birthday. I would post a picture of her, but she has hidden herself away for a beauty-nap, so the celebratory picspam will have to wait.

So I'm recording the next chapter of Crossroads (wiggiemomsi asked, and her wish is my command, most of the time).

Cleo walked into the room, took one look at me, and MEOWED.

I just went back and listened - and yup, you can hear the meowing. You can also hear me desperately reading the next line, trying not to laugh.


Poll #1425555
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 21

Do I keep Cleo in the background or not?

If there is one person or more on your friends list who makes your world a better place just because they exist and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

*

( Why I May Have Trouble Writing This Evening. Warning: Cute Cat Under Cut )

Bill: I think you should write about a smutty Smurf.
Me: My Doctor-Smurf fic is not smutty.
Bill: No, no, no. You're writing about SMUTTY Smurfs.
Me: I'm not writing smutty smurfs.***
Bill: Of course not. You're writing ABOUT a Smurf named Smutty, and he writes all the smut.
Me: .....
Bill: OH, COME ON.
Me: No.
Bill: You never know what's going to come out of my mouth next, do you?
Me: It scares me, actually.


***Also, this has already been written, in the form of a most disgusting email that I read about fifteen years ago, and have since tried unsuccessfully to scrub from my brain. People, you do NOT want your children to plug "Smurfette" into Google's image search engine. Trust me.


*

In other news, talloakslady lent me her copy of New Moon, so I get to read the continued adventures of Bella and Edward, he of the sparkly vampires. So far, the book is hysterically angsty.

Edward: Oh, woe is me, I'm a vampire and I want to have my girlfriend. But not like that.
Bella: Oh, woe is me, my boyfriend's a vampire and I want him to have me. Exactly like that.

*

Just now, upon realizing that Cleo is happily blissed out on the blankets in the yellow room, where Bill is on his Playstation, instead of her usual perch on the futon in the office with me:

Bill: I just want you to know, your kitten would rather be hanging out with me.
Me: That's just because she likes you so much, you know.
Bill: Yeah. And it's killing me.

Recently overheard at my house (sort of):

Bill: You know, Kitten, I'm not the one who likes you.
Cleo: Yes, you are.
Bill: No, I'm not. Your human is on the computer because she loves Doctor Who more than she loves you.
Cleo: No, she doesn't.
Bill: It's true.
Cleo: No, it's not.
Bill: It is! When did she feed you dinner last?
Cleo: About five minutes ago.
Bill: Why are you whining at me? I don't like you.
Cleo: Yes, you do.
Bill: Sharon! Your cat is whining at me!
Me: That's because she likes you!
Cleo: Told you.
Bill: I hate you both.

Bill and I have come to a realization - most pop/rock songs are about one of two things. Either they're about drugs, or they're about stalking.

No, really. Think about this for a second. Every Breath You Take? Stalker. Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds? Drugs. That Carrie Underwood song where she's keying the guy's car? Stalker. Hotel California? Drugs. (Actually, I thing every song recorded in the 70s is about drugs.)

Of course, those are the easy ones. Some of them are a bit harder, and require a certain...flexibility.

Over the Rainbow? Drugs. Totally drugs.

Close to You? Stalker.

Personal Jesus? Drugs.

Janie's Got a Gun? Stalker, by far.

Land Down Under? Drugs.

And the piece de resistance.....Song for Ten? Stalker.

Of course, posting this, I have guaranteed you will find the one song played on the Top 40 radio station that is about neither stalkers or drugs. Good luck with that. (Sunday Bloody Sunday? Drugs, but it's a bit of a stretch.)

*

Bill: Can I give the cat a shower>
Me: Huh?
Bill: She's in the tub. She wants a shower.
Me: The cat does not want a shower.
Bill: Just a little one?
Me: No!
Bill: Pleeeeeaaasssseeeeeee?
Me: Go. To. Bed.

( Seriously, does this cat look like she wants a shower? )

How this is true, I have no idea, because Cleo is actually very well behaved and purrs whenever I'm around. But according to Bill's result, Cleo is 98% likely to kill him, so I figure it's probably fair.

I went to the gym and rode the stationary bikes for a bit after work - my knee feels....well, not better, but at least not as stiff. Pilates on Thursday, so we'll see how it goes.

In the meantime, Bill is making dinner. Yay! And we have another disc of Big Love - more yay! And it's 6.30 in the evening, and still the sun shines. Life is totally good. Or would be, if my knee wasn't hurting.

Today, I:

- made a lemon cream tart
- made brownies
- folded three loads of laundry
- swept the second floor
- swept the first floor
- coded five reviews for cot_reviews
- bounced in and out of review claim spreadsheets about twenty times
- found a new optometrist (will make appointment tomorrow)
- finished Doomsday Book by Connie Willis
- made two purchases of the cross-stitch variety
- went grocery shopping. Twice.
- purchased wine for Passover Seder. Twice. (The first store did not have Blackberry. They only had Concord Grape. I hate Concord Grape. But I can finish off a bottle of Blackberry very well on my own. Which is why I bought two.)

(Passover Seders at my house are generally a show-and-tell in "How Drunk Must Sharon Be Before She Starts Singing in Hebrew." Answer: Usually about a glass and a half.)

( And now, a gratuitous picture of Cleo doing her impression of a centerfold: )

Bill: I went to Ballston Mall today after class.
Me: Okay.
Bill: There's a store in there with a Dalek.
Me: ...Really?
Bill: It's about one foot high, and radio-controlled. It's of the Grand Master Dalek or something.
Me: Cool!
Bill: It's $75.
Me: Not cool!
Bill: Nah. Maybe if we had a kid who was really into Doctor Who....
Me: Yeah, and the cat would hate it.
Bill: ....
Me: You know, radio-controlled something chasing her around the house. She'd freak.
Bill: I'm reconsidering the expense now.



It's all in the spin, really. :)

Happiness is:

1. The first of the Round Two reviews going up at cot_reviews. At last, it begins! With a recap of the last round's current nominees, but still. New reviews tomorrow! Wheeee!

2. Smart Wool socks on cold wintry days. For lo, they are thick and my toes are warm.

3. Writing a review that references Calvin and Hobbes comic strips. (No, really, I did.)

4. New episode of Lost tonight!

5. Chili Chocolate Fudge chilling in the fridge.

6. Figuring out how to re-write a few more songs for the Doctor Who version of Hair.

7. Warm, purring kitten on my lap.

Whew, what a day. What. A. Day.

THE HAPPINESS MEME, Day Four

Doing this meme this week seems a bit like overkill, really, because my goodness, but the last two days have been nothing but happy. Much more and I'll be doomed to write crack!fic forever.

So here, we go:

1. Someone nominated When Dex Was Three at CoT. I'm tickled, really and truly. I love writing Dex, and writing that story was an absolute joy - and I have to thank ladychi for it, because if she hadn't requested a Dex story, I wouldn't have written it at all.

Thus, many, many thanks to whoever nominated it.

2. There are 36 members and 44 folks watching cot_reviews. The number increases every time I look, which I really should stop doing, because it's going to go straight to my head. (Also, I'm sure it'll level off at some point, and then it'll just be sad.) Which reminds me, I need to post more of the Round One reviews, just to get 'em up and linked together - because once I'm done with that, I can concentrate on getting a more organized list of what's to review on Round Two. (Which good lord, is still in major amounts of flux - if you haven't heard, there are some issues with fics being nominated too many times or in the wrong categories or are too old for anything but the Classics category. (The link takes you to a list of removed fics.) So check your nominations, folks, and renominate in Classics if necessary.

3. Now, the three-fold Happy. Day One: I was happy, due to something aibhinn did, but I didn't want to share just yet.

Day Two: I was happy, because the response to me posting Sixty Things was overwhelming.

Now, you'd think that the Day One Happy was because Aib asked me to post the story, which resulted in Day Two Happy. Not quite. Aib asked me to repost, yes...but because she asked me specifically because of what is my Day Four Happy:

Sixty Things was nominated for the CoT awards, too. This is why Aib was very insistent I post it.

Now, here's the thing I found to be the most howlingly funny bit of the whole Happy. Because, you see, there are EXACTLY two fics in the List!Fic category.

One is Sixty Things, written by me.

One is the Fifty Things series, written by loveslashangst....and nominated by me.

Well, others may have nominated it too. But I certainly did.

So really. I have NO FRICKIN' IDEA how I'm going to vote, when it comes time for that category. I love LSA's lists to death, they're partially what made me realize that a List can be a Fic.

But then....pretty award.....ooo.

It's a pretty happy dilemma to be in, methinks.

*

And that about wraps up the happy, methinks. Except for this: Today, Cleo defended the House against an Evil Cat Interloper on the back porch. I am happy to say Cleo prevailed, but luckily, not before I was able to grab the camera.

( Cleo: En Garde! )

Tagged by wiggiemomsi

( That meme thingie. And a funny story about Cleo for #14 )

My father's been complaining that all I write anymore are reviews. This, of course, is only partially true. I also have been making fudge like mad, but there's only so many times you can post a picture of a dark-colored block and say, "Look! Fudge!"

Therefore, I'm going to post pictures and say, "Look! Cat!"

( Cleo Meets the Christmas Tree. )

Anyway, moving on. Today was a very good day to a very good weekend. One more batch of pumpkin fudge, and I tried the Mexican Coffee Fudge again and it worked out much better. Now I have a batch of yummy fudge, and a batch of yummy fudge that is for some reason, crunchy. If anyone would actually like the yummy fudge that is also crunchy, please apply here, because I honestly don't have a CLUE what to do with it. Seriously, it tastes fine. I fed it to co-workers, and none of them have died. Yet. It's just...crunchy.

Today was peanut butter fudge. (Straight-up peanut butter. Chocolate and peanut butter will be later this week.) Tomorrow's experiment will be Chili Chocolate Fudge. (Ancho chilis, cinnamon, and a bit of cayenne pepper.)

Also today, Bill and I went to see Quantum of Solace finally. ( Very dark, indeed, but altogether not too bad. )

Previews: Milk, Doubt, and The Reader. All three look fairly good, which is surprising, because from reading about them, I didn't have much interest. Goes to show what a good preview editor can do, I guess. Also, Meryl Streep's outfit? Made of awesome.

So, that about covers it. There you go, Dad, a post that does not have a single review in it. Except for a movie. Which doesn't have anyone from Doctor Who in it. That I recognized.

Hmm. What if Eleven was Judi Dench? *dies*

( Cleo at the Vet )