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Open Thread- 11

June 26, 2009

summertime

23 Comments
  1. June 26, 2009 11:26 am

    Chloe didn’t make it.

  2. June 26, 2009 11:36 am

    Oh no, what happened? 😦
    She sounded as if she was getting better.

  3. June 26, 2009 11:42 am

    I thought she was getting better too. But when I got home yesterday she was very lethargic. She wouldn’t move and she wouldn’t even really look at me, although she did try to purr, poor thing. So, I took her to the emergency vet. Her fever was just too high, and they couldn’t break it. She was such a small little thing.

    The vet was really kind, though. He didn’t charge me anything, even though it was supposed to have been $90 just for bringing her in there.

  4. June 26, 2009 12:01 pm

    As sad as it is, at least you were there with her in the end, and that she knew some love in her short little feline life.

  5. atheistwoman permalink
    June 26, 2009 12:57 pm

    Oh I’m sorry Margie. What Stormy said.

  6. June 26, 2009 1:59 pm

    Oh honey. I’m sorry, she sounded wonderful!

  7. melim permalink
    June 26, 2009 4:08 pm

    I’m so sorry, Margie. 😦

  8. June 26, 2009 5:36 pm

    Poor Chloe. I’m sorry.

  9. June 26, 2009 5:38 pm

    On another note,

    Where’s my BFF Mary Sunshine today?

    • Mary Sunshine permalink
      June 27, 2009 1:27 pm

      Hi Kitty! I was outdoors all day yesterday. 🙂 Best time of year to be outdoors here. In a week I’ll be hiding inside with the A/c, & we’ll be having heat alerts.

  10. atheistwoman permalink
    June 26, 2009 5:48 pm

    Speaking of missing persons, Citywood has been MIA as well…

    • Mary Sunshine permalink
      June 27, 2009 1:27 pm

      I’ve noticed. 😦

    • atheistwoman permalink
      June 27, 2009 1:51 pm

      I’ve heard from her now, she’s fine. I’m glad you’re both okay!

  11. June 26, 2009 6:14 pm

    oh my god, Margie, fuck I’m so sorry. Fuck. god. I’m so sorry.

  12. June 26, 2009 7:51 pm

    I have a story to tell. LOL! This is not the story, but my first line reminds me of this. My daughter, the younger—auditioned for a school play and got the leading part. Incidentally, she was so superior to all those low talking sounds like they are reading in your dreams actors! So, her part was of a girl/woman (it was never made clear their ages) that used every opportunity to employ story telling rich-rich in hyperbole. Think an angler’s tale. The very last line of the play is NO! Which is said by the chorus who responds to her asking “Do you want to hear the one about…………….” That is what the first sentence of my comment made me think about. What is it you say? You don’t care about every little thing I think about. Then why in Heavens name to you collude with Twitter. Oh, I guess that is different. That is a big corporation endorsing one (or many ones) to eavesdrop on some twerp’s various farts and burps! Never mind.

    “She is crazy, she is crazy,” said the anonymous fundie who has patriarchal institutions to consider!

    Here goes:

    ……………

  13. June 26, 2009 8:35 pm

    …….Last weekend I was again, trying to declutter. It seems to be a never-ending story. The child was downstairs. I was in her room. She was downstairs because I sent her on some errand, perhaps to put her clothes in the Goodwill bin by the front door. It was when she was out of her room when I saw the Chocolate Easter bunny. How long ago was Easter? I’ve asked, and she will not get rid of that thing, although she has not eaten it or I suspect planned on eating it. I mean honestly, one can have only so much chocolate before it has a reverse effect. Ugh. Chocolate overload is not pretty. I had to act fast. Get rid of that bunny before she made it back up. And trust me, she is suspicious of all things when I am in there. Drawings from kindergarten. Finger paintings from preschool, etc. To get rid of things, I use the piece by piece method. It may be two or three years before she misses something and then asks. Of course I act like I cannot remember what she is talking about. I snagged the bunny, still in its oversized box. It had been opened though and lost an ear. I took it into the bathroom. The bathroom has one door that leads into her room and another that leads into the corridor. The corridor that she would be coming up once she was done with her errand. I had to think fast. I could not put the bunny in the trash because ants come from no where if there is the slightest whiff of sugar. The slightest whiff of sugar. I took the bunny out of the box, shook the remaining crumbs into the toilet, and buried the box at the bottom of the small bin. But, I still had the bunny in my hand. I could hear her coming. To save myself I tossed the chocolate bunny in the toilet and closed the lid. Big mistake.

    When I flushed the toilet the bunny did go down. So, I assumed it was no longer there. Then when I flushed again the bowl filled up with water. That was almost a week ago. Still the toilet is stopped up. All week I have plunged and plunged and plunged. Luckily, it was clear water that I was plunging. I plunged and plunged and plunged. You would think the damn thing would have melted by now.

    Yesterday morning my constant unsuccessful plunging reminded me of something horrible from my past. There I was standing over the bowl. Plunging. Plunging. Listening for that sucking sound of success. Nothing. So I plunged and plunged more and more. I changed hands. My neck started hurting. My forearm was aching. My back was screaming. Sharp and hot pains were radiating from my shoulders, back, and neck. I wanted to stop but the thought of success pushed me forward. I plunged and plunged and plunged. Panting. Hurting. Exhausted. Then it hit me like déjà vu. I have been there before. But when? Where? When have I clogged the toilet up when trying to be stealthy? As I plunged I thought. I tried to remember why I’ve had this painful experience before.

    Suddenly, like a ton of bricks dropping on me, I was knocked away from the toilet. The plunger fell out of my hands. I remembered. The bodily pain was the same as it is when engaging in hand/blow job type “love.”

    I have to dig the snake out of the garage tomorrow. And if I cannot find it, will have to call a plumber.

    • June 27, 2009 7:26 am

      Kitty, pour buckets and buckets of very hot water down the toilet. Chocolate melts remember!

      No need for plumber.

      I actually had a blocked toilet via the conventional means, and the hot water thing did the trick (lots and lots of it).

    • June 27, 2009 7:34 am

      I did think of that. However, the bowl only holds so much water before it will overflow. It does drain empty eventually, but it takes awhile before it does, –maybe two-three hours. Unless you are saying I should take whatever melting I can get each time I can fill the bowl with hot water. I guess I could do it about six times in one day.

    • June 27, 2009 8:31 am

      Yes it will be a fairly slow process, but faster than using cold water.

      I was told that plumbers often do this anyway, so if you call one in, you will be paying some dude to do the same thing.

      The chocolate will probably shift faster than the ‘usual’ blockages (of paper and poopies). As it starts to clear, speed up the hot water process.

    • Mary Sunshine permalink
      June 27, 2009 1:25 pm

      Yup. Try a 4 gallon bucket of *boiling* water. I have a 4 gallon soup pot. It will do a complete flush with that much water, and boiling point is highest efficiency.

  14. June 26, 2009 8:49 pm

    OMG Kitty I don’t even know what to say. I am helpless with laughter. The wrist/neck pain of love? Trying to stifle your groans or make them sound like lust instead of fatigue? I will just discreetly say that lesbians know about that too.

    It may be two or three years before she misses something and then asks. Of course I act like I cannot remember what she is talking about.

    Just wait until the professional victims get their hands on her. She’ll be in therapy for years over that — “My mother secretly threw out my precious DRAWINGS! And then LIED to me about it!!!”

    • June 27, 2009 5:22 am

      Amy, this is from an old post of mine:

      I don’t want to be the subject of future therapy. That’s the whole goal, prevent myself from becoming the focus of future therapy. I can see it now, “I’m in therapy talking about my mother because she raised me always talking about not wanting to be talked about in therapy.” What a world we have made for ourselves.

      We (more me than her) have a running joke about how I will be the topic of her adult therapy. She thinks it is so funny. And my other daughter (the older) thinks it is funny too, because she can now see past (for the most part) how for the longest everything was my fault. (Well, a lot of it was my fault, but, we are now laughing at how there was a time that everything was my fault).

  15. Level Best permalink
    June 29, 2009 2:34 pm

    I am so sorry about Chloe, and I agree with Stormy that your being there for the little cat was a very good thing. I feel teary now, because I am remembering my late Greta kitty’s last hours.

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