It's Seriously Time...

...For robot insurance.

What a Dick, Van Patten

All Nikita's tests came back normal, so the only X factor in this equation is Dick Van Patten's Unnatural Offbalance food.

The vet thinks that must have caused the REPEATED PROJECTILE VOMITING and EXTREME DIGESTIVE TRACT UPSET.

Just a little bit of the new food mixed in with her regular food was enough to do the trick. So, lesson learned - no new food, ever - stick with the one that works (which is Wellness, btw).

I'd never have guessed that something purported to be so high-quality would cause such a problem. I'd like to punch Dick Van Patten in his big fat pasty face.

Bay Area Woman Shaves

San Francisco Bay Area, CA - Despite months of neglect and indifference, a female resident of Alameda finally shaved her legs today. Citing no particular reason for the occasion, the long, Sasquatch leg hair was stripped using a Venus razor with disposable blade.

Today's shaving was the first leg hair removal of 2008 and the third depiliation in the last six months. Although lower-leg shaving is a rare event, no nicks, cuts or razor burn occurred.

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As you can see, it's been an exciting week. In addition to shaving, I've had my spine X-rayed, follow up appointments with a wonderful new chiropractor who has pretty much fixed my stupid neck, and taken the kitten to the vet for another spate of vomiting.

She blew chunks repeatedly last night and again this morning, so it was time for professional help. Now she, too, has been X-rayed for the low, low price of $250.

Just two pictures of a tiny kitten costs $250, yet my entire spine was photographed using 8 pieces of film for only $150. Does that seem odd?

Smokin Hot

I usually don't brag about my lingerie, but I spent almost three days in my sexy, red fleece "Wonder Boys" robe. And not just the robe - I was also sportin hot, bulky fleece pajama pants and two or three shapeless t-shirts.

I know, you're thinking you shouldn't be reading this at work - I should have warned you with NSFW.

Had Jeffy not suggested we get breakfast this morning, I'd still be in that robe and multi-layered pajama configuration. I hadn't left the house since Thursday.

Living alone means I can go to bed wearing the same t-shirt I wore one day then get up and wear it again the next day. Much time and energy is saved by not changing clothes. Just put on some jammie pants and sexy sheepskin slippers and call it a day.

So, you've been warned. If you show up unannounced, you're not going to be able to resist this smokin hot hobo lady.

I Hate Flashbacks Pie

It was between Waitress and Michael Clayton and I chose Waitress thinking that would be a sweet, upbeat Friday night movie. The pies looked sweet. The flashbacks, not so much.

I didn't realize the husband character was so terrible. That part wasn't easy to watch.

My former life came up at dinner the other night with people who knew me then. No one seemed to have any idea what was behind his public face that was always smiling and happy. That makes it worse, to hide it like that.

At least the character in the movie was horrible all the time, out in the open, where everyone could see it. He wasn't conniving and manipulative so all his friends would think what a great guy he was while at home he's throwing shit at his wife while telling her how worthless she is.

But it all worked out in the end. That worthless wife left him when he least expected it (happy valentine's day!), left him flailing in a pool of debt, then repo'ed the car right out from under his nose. Now *that* was sweet!

Leaving Las Projects

Caught the last of Leaving Las Vegas while waiting for Lost to start and a scene woke the kitten from her after-dinner nap on the couch.

I reassured her that mommy wouldn't become a prostitute. Now, let's hope some projects start rolling in pretty soon so mommy doesn't become a liar, too.

Thirteen Years

Last night I had dinner with friends I hadn't seen in ages. We all worked together thirteen years ago. A whole awkward adolescent child ago.

Funny what you can forget after thirteen years. I heard a story about attending a wedding that I don't remember - thankfully it wasn't mine. Allegedly, my ankles ended up somewhere around someone's neck on the ride home, but there's no definitive proof.

I do remember stumbling into a bar that night long after the reception, noticing that everyone turned to look at us. That's about it.

I've learned a lot since then. Like to keep pouring wine from my glass into the glass of someone sitting next to me so my ankles don't end up anywhere but above my feet.

Bring Dino Back

The other day I heard that scientists somewhere are trying to create a dinosaur in a lab. That sounds like just what we need to cull the human herd. Hurry up & get him grown and running through the streets.

Fun With QuickCams

We've moved on from Cats Playing Backgammon. Now it's all about the webcam plug-ins.

PriusAss

What is with the PriAss no-turn-signal-using drivers who cannot find the gas pedal while driving (sorry, coasting) in the fast lane?

Swear to brad, every time there's a car camped out in the fast lane passing nothing but gas, it's a PriAss. And nine times outta ten, when I'm behind one making a turn, there's no signal.

Are turn signals and standard-sized gas pedals expensive options on this car?

Is it that PriAss drivers have never driven a car before owning one of these go-karts, or once in these cars whatever driving skills they may have had are deactivated by the hybrid technology?

On 101 in San Rafael yesterday a woman in a PriAss drifted slowly onto the freeway from the onramp into the far left lane. She never turned her head to look, she never signaled and she was going about 50mph - much slower than traffic.

This isn't the first time I've seen the "PriAss drift," where drivers seem to think they can wander wherever they want and the rest of us will just skeedaddle out of the way and applaud as they drive by.

Toyota doesn't advertise the forcefield that comes with this car, but it must be well worth whatever it costs. Buyers must be choosing that option over turn signals and gas pedals.

This powerful option seems capable of protecting drivers from being slammed by a Hummer already occupying a freeway lane a PriAss drifts into without looking.

I would love to have a hybrid car, but it's gonna be a big one that can drive over a PriAss.

Cupcake Rescue

Even though it's an ad for MS Office, you can't not love Amy and her bunnies. Just ignore the corny computery part.

AND

It really irks me when I hear people say "two thousand AND eight," or "two thousand AND [insert number here]."

It's just TWO THOUSAND EIGHT. No and. And what? Two thousand and four score and eight years and twelve cats?

JUST LEAVE OUT THE AND already.

And...

Yesterday I saw a commercial for a magical cold remedy that transformed what appeared to be a miserable, suffering mother of two small children into a happy, skipping, energetic playmate for her kids.

If that's really what happens, I can't wait to try some - as soon as possible - why wait for a cold. I didn't realize that over-the-counter cold medicines now contained E and speed.

And...

Does anyone care less than I do about Roger Clemens and what he shot into his ass?

Cable TV Crack

Last night I got sucked into the incredible cinematic achievement known as Purple Rain - a movie I saw many times when it came out because I was certain Prince and I would be very happy together, if he just knew where to find me.

The stunning visuals of industrial Minneapolis, dark, smoky clubs and basement apartments support a brilliant screenplay that includes poignant, insightful lines such as, "I'm so tired of this," and "You never let me have any fun."

There's no statute of limitations on asking for your money back from the Purple Artist, is there? I'm out, like, $30 - maybe more. So is my high school best friend and millions of other victims.

Actually, I'd be happy with a partial reimbursement that covers all the scenes including Prince or Appolonia. Everything with Morris and Jerome is still really entertaining. Where is Jerome these days?

After the movie VH1 showed one of my all-time favorites - Pop Up Videos, of Prince. Bubbles popping onto the screen talked about doves and pigeons being the same bird, biologically, and that they don't cry, they "coo," then in a close up frame of Prince singing, they popped up a picture of Joyce Dewitt - wearing the same hairstyle.

Earlier in the week I got sucked into Sid & Nancy for the eleventy hundredth time. There are times when I can't watch it - there's only so much junkie sadness one can take - but I still love it. You are sellin' healthy anarchy, but as long as you're an addict, you be full of shit!

Mmmotherhood

In the middle of the night last night I was awakened two seconds too late to shove a puking cat off of the bed, where he upchucked a hairball onto the comforter directly on top of me.

I'm sure it mustn't be any fun for a cat to be surprised by a hairball in the middle of the night, but come on - right on top of me while I'm in the damn bed? You're a CAT. You're known for your quick reflexes, remember?

Getting up at 1:30 in the morning to clean cat puke off the bed is such a pleasure. For a moment I considered just moving to the other side of the bed to go right back to sleep.

Then after his breakfast, he blew a few more chunks, with me telling him "It's OK, get it out," while trying to keep him from spewing it onto the carpet.

Then the bird wants his breakfast and doesn't want to be left out of the fun, so he starts mouthing off for attention, then the other boy cat leaves a monster crap in the box and neglects to cover it, his way of sharing with us what he can make all by himself.

For a moment, it felt very much like taking care of my brother's kids when he was in school on weekends. There was always someone hungry, someone crapping, someone wanting something, every second of every minute of the day. It made me nuts.

If the late-night cat barf alarm keeps up, I'm going to leave piles of food all over the house and join David across the pond.

Cheating Shmeating

Last night I happened to catch an episode of In Treatment, with Gabriel Byrne playing the self-involved shrink and distant husband to an always entertaining Michelle Forbes.

They were having a strained conversation in his office when she told him she'd been seeing someone.

He jumped up from the couch, losing his shit, and demanded to know who she's seeing and what she does with him.

Now, I'm no fan of infidelity, but his reaction really irks me. It's none of his business who it is and what she does with him. She gave him limited information, but she should have told him to eff-off.

If he's essentially checked out of the marriage and is no longer an active participant in the relationship (or in raising the kids), then he's broken his vows. Perhaps not as severely as if he'd slept with someone else, but it can be just as bad.

If he doesn't really want to be there, why doesn't he move on and let her move on? Why does it seem like neglect is a lesser evil than adultery? I think they're equally destructive.

Later in the show he admits to his shrink that he knew about it, but he did nothing about it - never said a word.

So, he's neglected her for some time, is totally uninvolved with his children, (one of which is having significant socialization issues) knew they were growing further apart, and still acts like her adultery is the worst thing. Please.

I'm not saying what she did was right - if it's at the point where you're about to cheat, it's time to go or time for drastic intervention. But at this point, is cheating really the deal breaker for them?

It doesn't help, but it makes it painfully clear that they're in big trouble. At least she still wants the marriage and family to survive, whereas he doesn't seem to care, or cares only about himself and I think that's worse.

Skypetacular

Skype is great for staying in touch remotely with free calls and online games, but what's really important is being able to hold a cat up to the webcam so all your husband can see is a giant furry face kicking his ass at backgammon.

The Chill is Gone

Finally, a day of gorgeous weather without a chilly breeze. So happy to be outside and not be layered up like Ralphie's little brother. Even happier to turn off the heat.

On another topic... Maybe I should be blue because my husband has fled the country, but I'd forgotten how much I like living alone. Is that wrong?

As Katharine Hepburn said, "Men and women shouldn't live together. They should live near each other, and visit."

I'm liking this situation, at least for now. I'm living on my own, but because I'm married, I'm not expected to be dating, which is perfect, because I've never enjoyed dating and I never liked it when friends tried to set me up with people.

So I have all the benefits of enjoying my own space without any expectations to "partner up." Why isn't this arrangement more common?

Faith Restored

The last 24 hours have been a bit of a roller coaster. First, I realize I messed up a job, then I flip out about it because it was a stupid, stupid mistake I could have easily avoided, and then I have to immediately notify the client, which always feels good, doesn't it?

"Hi, yes it's me, the one you thought had this all totally handled. Yes, well actually I totally effed up your order and will now require additional time out of your day so I can fix my stupid mistake - mkay? Thanks."

I hate that feeling - that feeling of transmogrifying from an average human into a giant braying ass.

After leaving messages with the client, I let the studio know and waited to hear back. I fully expected to have to go back today and reshoot, but they couldn't have been nicer or more gracious. And the studio was just as cool about it.

I guess I always expect to be beaten about the head and neck when these things happen, so when I'm met with such good-natured understanding, I'm bowled over and feel very grateful to be working with people like this.

And in the end, it may have worked out for the best - they're getting a better package than they originally ordered and it should perfectly suit their needs. But the best part is how nice they were about it. I can't wait to work with them again, but next time, in human form.

Stupid Thursday

Whoever designed the flusterbuck that is the 80/880/580 exchange should have to sit in that parking lot for all eternity.

What a brilliant design of endless merging across 8 lanes that backs up traffic for miles at any time of day, every day of the week. Obviously designed by an engineer who's never driven a car and loves sitting for hours on end.

I'm in a terrible mood because I effed up a job today and now I have to reshoot it. I can't seem to get my shit straight lately. It's like part of my brain falls asleep from time to time. I don't know it's switched off, so I don't realize anything is wrong until I've made the mistake.

And it's little things, and things you wouldn't expect to screw up. It's maddening. And I don't know what to do to fix it.

David Who?

David called this afternoon while I was on the road and because of the noise of the car, I wasn't sure who it was. When he said a very cheerful "Hi!" I asked, "Who is this?" To that he said, "But I've only been gone day!"

I was all discombobulated because I ran out of coffee beans and had to brew a pot of regular, crema-less coffee. The humanity. I was off my game all day.

I left an hour too early for an appointment, forgot to eat lunch, and screwed up the white balance on some shots.

And the cats are becoming more needy with only one human around to pester. While I was on a conference call Nikita chewed the phone antenna, leaving adorable little teeth marks all over it.

Then Neo tried playing with the headset microphone like it was a ball and when he couldn't bat it off the desk, he slapshotted the bluetooth earbud instead. I found it under the couch.

It's just a matter of time before things get ugly.

Drunk on Beautiful Design

Today I photographed a beautiful home in SF and every room was oozing with meticulous, satisfying designey goodness.

I'd be happy just living in the kitchen with the gorgeous marble counter tops and built-in buffet/bar, restaurant-grade Wolf range complete with water spigot, and enough counter space to perform surgery on at least 8 average-sized adults simultaneously.


The little girl's room looked to me like what Clara's bedroom might look like, in The Nutcracker. I wanted to be 5 again and grow up in that room. When I closed the door to get a different angle, I saw that she had two pairs of small angel wings hanging on the doorknob.


Maybe I could ask them to adopt me until David returns from his trip.

I'm a Trucker!

Today I drove almost 200 miles, all in a day's work. From the East Bay into SF, then up to Marin County, then over to Lake Berryessa, then back over to Sonoma and finally home.

What I really need is a van I can drive with hand levers while standing up, running on a treadmill, 'cause my ass is getting the wrong kind of workout on days like today.

But I'm not complaining. Driving through beautiful countryside isn't the worst way to spend a day. And I'm finding all the clean, well-maintained pit stops in all the towns I visit, since my volvo wagon doesn't come with a loo.

So this is what I really need - a split-window VW van with a hot new engine that I can drive with my hands while walking/running on a treadmill, with a bathroom in the back and a lounge/work area in the middle for when I have time to kill between jobs. And a wireless signal. Who's gonna make it for me?

Go Patriots!

But first, we bring you the pre-game pre show, followed by the pre-game show, followed by the pre-kickoff show, which includes the pre-coin toss show and the post-coin toss wrap up, followed by the pre-huddle show and finally, the pre-halftime show also known as, the football game.

What a great game, but a bummer that the Pats couldn't get it done. We blame Gisele.

MSG is Nasty

We had dinner tonight at a newer, Chinese restaurant in Alameda that we've enjoyed before, and even though we asked that MSG not be used in our food, it was in there anyway.

I feel like I ate a giant bowl of soy sauce soup. I'm not sure if I could be any more bloated - though I'm not anxious to find out.

The weird low-grade headache is annoying, as is the "clearing throat cough" as I've described it to Ms. Crafty and G-dawg.

Why would any self-respecting restaurateur use MSG? Their food seems to be high quality, like they wouldn't need to add that crap, but maybe they don't know what they're doing in the kitchen.

I know we won't be going there again unless they ditch the chemicals.

Accidentally Psychic

OK, so I may be somewhat psychic, without meaning to be.

Last year we were invited to a shindig we couldn't attend, so I graciously declined with an excuse that I had crazy project deadlines and would have to work that weekend.

At the time I had almost no work coming in and few prospects, but thought that would be a safe reason, just to keep things stress-free.

About a week later, a new project was dropped in my lap out of nowhere - with crazy deadlines that would require me to work that weekend.

Then about a month ago we were invited to an event that would have been difficult to attend, requiring a pet sitter we don't have and super tight travel scheduling to prevent taking time off work.

Rather than go into all the details of why it would be difficult for us to attend, I said that David would be away on a business trip and I would have to stay here to hold down the fort.

That was long before there was any chatter about David's trip to the UK. And now David leaves on Monday and he has much to do to prepare.

For the next invitation we decline, my excuse is going to be that I'm expecting a multi-million dollar check and must be home to sign for it.