4

Are Divas Born or Made?

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Diva – prima donna; a usually glamorous and successful female performer or personality; especially a popular female singer Merriam Webster Dictionary

Prima Donna – the main female singer in an opera company; a person who thinks she or he is better than everyone else and who does not work well as part of a team or group Merriam Webster Dictionary

Diva – a b****y woman that must have her way exactly, or no way at all. often rude and belittles people, believes that everyone is beneath her and thinks that she is so much more loved than what she really is. Selfish, spoiled, and overly dramatic. Urban Dictionary

The other day I woke up to Super Snoops sitting at the foot of my bed looking at me as if to say, “I’ve been waiting more than 30 seconds for you to get up and let me downstairs. What’s the problem?” I think cats are naturally born divas. Even the sweet ones have their moments of, “Just turn off the rain so I can lie in my favorite sunspot.”

When I was little, I heard that Maria Callas was a real diva. I had no idea who she was or what diva meant, so it got tossed into the back of my mind. A lot of useless stuff lives there, so it was right at home.

According to the Internet, there are a lot of divas around at the moment. We have Mariah Carey, Nicki Minaj, Jennifer Lopez, Beyonce. I don’t really know much about them. However, they certainly seem to be in charge wherever they go.

Thinking harder about it (a painful process), I realized that there really wasn’t a male counterpart to a diva. The Urban Dictionary says that it’s “hustler,” which is a stretch. I really don’t think Mariah Carey gets what she wants by misrepresenting herself. I think she gets what she wants because people want to make her happy.

I once read that the rock group Van Halen insisted on having all of the brown M&M’s removed from the bowl in their dressing room. I read it in Rolling Stone, so I know it’s true. I don’t know about anyone else, but I would much rather order a room full of white gardenias than paw through bags of M&M’s. Why they would want someone handling their food is a separate issue entirely.

Regardless, all of these people are able to make these somewhat silly and unreasonable requests because they are talented and extremely popular. Management doesn’t want their star to disappear before the show. A new toilet seat at every stop (Madonna) seems like a small price to pay for the income from the show. (Of course, management is not the one who has to search for the perfect shade of paint to redo the dressing room or try to keep the star functioning after they have consumed the entire bottle of pricey Scotch requested.)

I wonder at what point the transition to true diva starts and how it happens. My daughter told me about three potential divas she ran across in LA. The first was her roommate K. K had seemed pretty normal at home. She was a little stressed and flaky, but the world would be full of divas if those were the criteria. However, after being chosen as a finalist for several awards and not winning, she began to boo the winners. Afterwards, she complained somewhat excessively about how the judges didn’t appreciate how really talented she was. Her mother was a definite enabler of the behavior.

Then there was the young man (14 years old) who seemed to assume that because he looks good in clothes, everyone would be dying to sign him. He had appeared pretty normal until the last day. His disappointment at only having a few callbacks exposed the real diva. Instead of trying to sell himself to them, he told one of the agents that he was only interested in modeling and did not want to be trained in acting (for commercials and that type of thing.) The judges did not appreciate his talent either.

Finally there were the girls who received a lot of callbacks and only went to the ones that interested them. How they knew the others wouldn’t have been a good fit is anyone’s guess. But the girls knew they were too good to condescend to meet with them. Hopefully it worked out with the agents who made the cut.

I’ve come to the conclusion that human divas are made, not born. (Although some seem to have better genetic material for it than others.)

Cats can’t help it. It’s inbred. But they look so cute when they do it.

0

Slothly Ruminations on Human Behavior – Part Two

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Image result for sloths  Les Sloth, Guest Contributor

Conventions are very strange things. For example, they are very boring. At least this one is. The beautiful, talented people are actually competing against each other. But they don’t talk to each other or fight. It’s not like those people on TV who are competing to be President; whatever that it. I guess those people are not beautiful and talented.

Mainly we have been sitting in a room and watching people walk and talk. Everyone is dressed very nicely. I wonder what they do with all of those nice clothes when they are home. Particularly some of the people on the runway. I have never seen Cat or B in anything like that.

B only walked one time. I thought she was very pretty. She was wearing jeans and looked really normal compared to some of the other people I saw. I guess she did OK. She didn’t fall in front of everyone and that was important she said.

She talked a lot though. A few times she sounded like she was trying to sell things to the other people. The other times she just sounded like she was just rambling about something. She sounded most normal then. She sang one time too.

There were a few people who watched and wrote things down. Some of the other beautiful, talented people watched too. The people B knew all watched each other. They told each other how great they were. The people who wrote things down never told anyone they were great. They didn’t smile at anyone either.

I think Cat will be very happy with the job that C has done. B has not been crazy at all the entire trip. C does interesting things during the day while B watches people walk and talk. I think she has actually been outside the building.

I think I have done a good job too. No strange people have come near except the ones she wants to talk to. The other night the lady with the black hair who is in charge of B’s group lost her phone. While they we looking for the phone, one of the guys had his wallet stolen. That wouldn’t have happened if he had a sloth bodyguard.

The PR part is working too. Already a couple of people have asked for B’s picture and wanted a private audition. It’s a good thing that they wanted pictures. The lady with the black hair wanted B to take at least 50 or 60 pictures with her. She also had to take resumes. They took up a lot of space in her bag. So did the clothes and shoes, but I don’t think she’s supposed to give those to anyone.

The only things left to do are callbacks and the awards dinner. I’m not really sure what a callback is. B says they don’t have anything to do with phones or people calling out her name. I don’t know what kind of awards they are giving out. I really hope they only talk after we eat. I think they will have a salad so I can eat too. Then I can sleep while they talk.

We are going home the day after that. I have to lay on one of those machines again so they can make sure I’m not going to blow up the plane. I hope Cat is there to meet us. This trip has been the longest six days of my life.

 

 

3

Slothly Ruminations on Human Behavior

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Image result for sloths  Les Sloth, Guest Contributor

I really didn’t have to ruminate much to come to my conclusion:

Humans are crazy!

Cat assigned me to accompany B to Los Angeles for her modeling/talent convention. I joined her and her friend C while they finished packing for the trip. I don’t think C was going there to be beautiful; I think she was supposed to keep B from being crazy while she was being beautiful. I hope Cat’s paying her more than she’s paying me.

Apparently it takes a lot of stuff to be beautiful and talented. B had two overflowing suitcases before C arrived. C helped her repack so all that stuff fit. Unfortunately, B still had a lot of stuff. Fortunately, it doesn’t take as much stuff to prevent craziness so C could share some of her space.

Cat drove us to the airport in the dark. We had to get in a line where all the humans had to take off their shoes. Humans have ugly feet – no fur or claws. They made me lie down on a belt that went through a big box. B said they were looking for explosives. Why would I eat explosives? I’m a vegetarian.

The plane ride was awful. The airplane people said that animals ride under the seat. They also said that I really should be in a cage in cargo. I showed them my ticket. They finally said that I could have the seat but that if I made a mess on the seat I had to leave. Can you believe that?! People can be so rude.

We finally got to the LA airport. I was really sorry I’m not an insectivore. There were a lot of big black beetles on the floor. B carried me. She said it was too dirty for me to walk and that someone might step on me.

We had to wait for the luggage. That’s a really scary place. There were a lot of people pushing each other trying to get their stuff. I think I would have left some of that stuff there and bought something better looking. C was really good at making sure no one got our stuff. That probably helped B not be crazy.

We got to the hotel pretty quickly. I think everyone in LA must be late getting somewhere. All they do is run around.

After we got there, B had a message that she had to go to a meeting. Of course, I went with her. There were four people there besides B. A lady with black hair was really excited and told them everything that they needed to do. The lady seemed pretty stressed out and was making B and her friends annoyed. Luckily, the lady didn’t have a problem with me being there so B didn’t get really upset.

B had to go to some kind of singing practice. I don’t know how humans are supposed to sound when they sing, but they didn’t sound anything at all like the songbirds where I come from. I guess B did OK. No one threw anything at her or walked out.

The last thing she did was to put on a lot of makeup and have someone take pictures of her. I think that went pretty well. I don’t understand why all of the pretty girls there had to put stuff on their faces to have their pictures taken. Sloths look good the way we are. And none of them looked as good as a lady sloth when they were done.

That was the end of the stuff B had to do on the first day. She went to eat with her friends. I went back to the room to try and figure out whether the people were having a good time there or not. I fell asleep before I could decide.

More to come.

3

Annual Cheeseland Staff Meeting

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Once a year all, the reporters for Adventures in Cheeseland get together to describe major projects they are working on for the next year. George and Lenny are responsible for herding the cats (so to speak).

Image result for two miceGoogle Images

George: Happy New Year everyone! Thanks for taking the time to come to Michigan for this meeting. Cat has a few things that she would like us to mention at the beginning of this meeting.

Lenny: First, we have to commit to having something to publish once a week.

(Under his breath: that’s her fault not ours. General snickers. George takes over.)

George: And our readership seems to be trending a little intellectual. She want us to get a little more mainstream.

mehitabel: Not gonna happen.

Ahab: Not with me. I didn’t sign on to be dumbed down.

Google Images

(Agreement around the table.)

George: Cat thought that might be your response. So she hired a freelancer for our first attempt. I’d like you to meet Les Sloth. He is going to the convention with Cat’s daughter to get a first-hand view of modeling competitions. (Groans all around.) He’s posing as her bodyguard and PR rep. If it works out, he’ll be a regular contributor.

Image result for sloths  Google Images

(Les looks around and gently smiles at everyone.)

Ahab: No disrespect Les, but how are you going to guard B? Aren’t sloths rather (searches for correct word)

Les: Yes we are slow. But we are also very cute and that tends to disarm people. While they are looking at me, I have a buzzer to B’s traveling companion who works as B’s wing person. She will be able to talk to people and explain that B is there for work, not socialization.

Ahab: That actually might work. Welcome to Cheeseland.

(The others welcome him as well.)

Ricky T. Tavi: So what are you calling your piece?

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Les: Cat and I agreed on “Slothly Ruminations on Human Behavior.”

archy (snickering): That title should draw in the Twitter crowd.

https://i0.wp.com/static.ddmcdn.com/gif/cockroach-close-up-660.jpg Google Images

George: If that’s what Cat wants, that’s the title.

archy: It wasn’t a reflection on you, Les. You seem like a nice guy.

(Les smiles at him.)

George: So what else is happening this year?

mehitabel: We’re looking into adulteration at a cheese-puff factory. They may actually be putting cheese into some of their products.

“Ace” Sopp: I am looking into a secret group of sub-Saharan animals who are putting together a peace-keeping group to try to help their northern human neighbors.

  Google Images

Ricky T. Tavi: Unfortunately it appears that there may be some doping on the Bengal Tiger surf team. Since Ahab is the head of the commission for the summer games, we are working together to try to prevent a scandal.

Ahab: Unfortunately, we are finding evidence that the problem may be more wide-spread than we first thought. The human surfing social habits are spreading to the animals.

H. Chris Andersen: I am looking into the beginnings of socialized medicine for animals, particularly in Scandinavia. We are hoping to avoid some of the start-up glitches the humans have experienced. For example, most animals can’t wait several months for tests and surgery.

George: I assume we will be sending someone to the human Olympics this summer?

Ace: Ricky and I drew the short straws because we live in hot climates. I hate dealing with humans. They always act so condescending.

Ricky: Like they’re better than we are. Les, you’re welcome to join us. It’s in your neighborhood and you’re studying humans right now.

Les: I would like that.

George: Great! It looks like we have a good start to the year. Remember to keep us updated on what you’re doing. Don’t forget about the time the Tasmanian devil almost bankrupt us trying to recreate a typhoon.

(They all laugh and adjourn to the dining room.)

8

Is December Over Yet?

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As we get older, the months are supposed to sneak past us so quickly that we don’t even see them going by. December didn’t get the memo. It’s not like I really accomplished anything; it just feels like it took forever not to.

December showed off some pretty quirky human behavior. And some amazing first-world stupidity.

I always do a lot of baking for the holidays. It takes about a week and I generally make the same things. Unfortunately my week was interrupted by cranberry bread for my husband to take to work, breakfast breads for my daughter’s fundraiser, and putting together a gingerbread reindeer and sleigh. (Not really difficult if you have four hands.) Luckily for my family I was still in my holiday daze when they remarked that I had not made fudge this year.

I went to an interfaith peace kick-off meeting on December 22. The timing was significant because it was the season of Christmas, Hanukah, and The Prophet’s birth. And because those of us who work in retail are in a perpetual haze. I hope the woman sitting next to me won’t be offended if we meet again and I have no clue who she is.

Someone left an empty tube of acrylic paint on a shelf at work. There was no mess, so it wasn’t vandalism. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just put the tube in your pocket than empty the contents into it?

Somebody took a small-sized safe. The empty ones we sell. If you can’t afford a safe, what are you going to put in it?

We had a new employee for a few weeks. She was hired as a stocker. After a couple of weeks she could stock five cases of toys in eight hours. (That’s approximately 30 toys.) Turns out that a large part of the problem was that she spent the night shopping – picking out items, looking them over, deciding what she really wanted, replacing what she didn’t, and paying for her purchases.

When the company had documented enough to fire her, she was highly offended. She called the store director to complain about unfair termination. Complain very loudly. He asked her if she was challenging the reports of shopping on company time and inability to perform the job. No, she agreed that it was true. It just wasn’t fair to fire her.

Last night four bored young men came into the store. I heard this tremendous “music” and went to investigate. They had turned on all the dancing Christmas bears and were taping them on a phone. I tried not to laugh when I asked them to please not do it again.

You may recall that my daughter B was invited to L.A. for a modeling/talent convention. They are leaving this coming Tuesday (1/4). Last Sunday (12/27), her agency wanted to see all of the clothes she was bringing to L.A. They told her that her dress for the award dinner was way too loose and needed to be tailored. She was lucky. A couple of the other people had to make major wardrobe adjustments. In a week.

This week the agency told B that she did need a portfolio after all of 6 to 8 pictures. She could get the perfect display album for just $45 from them. But they were out of stock. She bought an $18 presentation portfolio from Staples that displays the photos beautifully. Good thing since last night the agency said she needs 10 copies each of 3 other pictures.

B needed to purchase the pictures from Costco/CVS/Walgreen’s/Staples. It seemed simple enough. Download the picture file, enter the dimensions and quantity, and place the order. The pictures were professionally taken to be printed as 8×10. However to order them as 8×10 online she needed to crop them as if they were taken as 8.5×11. For one of them, she had to choose between taking off part of an arm or her head.

I thought I was going to be a huge favorite with the cats. I bought a water fountain and a huge fleece bed for them. They are finally getting over their fear of running water and using the fountain. The bed is used on rare occasion by one or the other of them. Next year it’s back to special food.

And now that December is finally going away –

Image result for new year 2016 animalsGoogle Images

Best wishes for a happy and healthy 2016!

6

Black Friday and the Arrival of the Grinch

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(For the uninitiated – e.g., those living in more civilized parts of the world – Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving when stores offer their best sales for Christmas. It even existed during the Dark Ages when I was young. The Thanksgiving newspaper was always the largest of the year because it carried the advertisements for the Day-after-Thanksgiving sales. As I recall it was more genteel pushing than tripping and hitting.)

On my first day of work, the manager told me that everyone works on Black Friday. It really didn’t surprise me since the company is on the news every year for its Black Friday mobs (and occasional brawls).

My experiences at my previous job weren’t particularly encouraging. But working in cheese meant that I got the customers after they had been through battle and licking their wounds. The Grinch usually arrived sometime before the end of the shift with his tight shoes and snarl to take up residence until after New Year’s Day.

At 10p on Wednesday, I showed up for work ready to prepare for the sale. Silly me. The sale didn’t start until 2p Thanksgiving afternoon. If we put the merchandise out the night before, the day shift would be fighting off customers all morning. That might be fun to watch.

I was pretty excited. I never shop on Black Friday, and I thought it would be fun to see the crowds. There was even a county deputy there. I got to the back room and the manager said that we were going to be assigned from the break room instead of the hall as usual. It was packed, about two times as many people as usual.

The store director got up to talk. This must be important. We never see him at night. He started out by telling us how disappointing sales have been so far. Way below what they expected.

Our job was to make sure that the store looked good for Friday. They advised us to look around the store to know where the sale items were since people would be asking us all night. Good idea. Except we didn’t have fliers to know what we were looking for.

There really wasn’t a good job that night. We straightened, put things away, and threw away mangled displays. It was a bit like kids cleaning their rooms. No Grinch in sight; he would have been bored.

I straightened men’s jeans. I don’t know what kind of gremlins shop for men’s jeans when the store is busy, but they’re slobs. Must be male gremlins.

I talked to two customers. One wanted to know if it was always that slow on Black Friday. The store they usually shop at back home in Missouri always had at least a couple of fights going on. The other guy wanted to know where we kept the garbage cans. Seriously? Who buys garbage cans at midnight on Thanksgiving? Of course, I hadn’t seen the ad.

The food they provided was amazing. Big aluminum trays of ham and turkey. Mashed potatoes with bacon. Pies and cookies. Soda and water. The Grinch didn’t make it to dinner.

I was sent to stock toys; an indication of how slow it was. I talked to one customer. She wanted a toy from the ad. We were sold out of it. She huffed and said that she was going to Kmart. I didn’t have Kmart’s ad either. Maybe the Grinch was there and she’d find a soul-mate.

I had just unloaded the third pallet of toys when someone came by and said that we weren’t stocking anymore. We were supposed to straighten all of the end-caps before the end of the shift. Ummm. Okay. You took several of us from straightening to stocking. Now we’re going from stocking to straightening.

I decided to straighten the gift baskets, stocking stuffers, etc. It was the best because I got to play with the stuffed animals. Did you know that if you go into Starbucks and order hot chocolate, you have to get it with mocha but you can buy the real thing (no mocha) in a gift collection? How about they now sell foot-long Twix bars for stockings? (My family got cheated. None of us has a stocking that big.) And cheap perfume companies come out with really horrific smells for their holiday scents?

Friday night was equally quiet, but they gave us really good food again. A couple of nights later, they gave us 15% off coupons good for an entire shopping trip because we worked on Thanksgiving. A couple of nights later we got two cakes for our hard work. Two days ago we had pizza and salad for a quarter with no lost time injuries.

I never did see the Grinch. I guess he got held up at my old store.

0

What Do You Bring to an Inter-Species Potluck?

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Like most other offices, “Adventures in Cheeseland” has a holiday party between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Probably the only difference between ours and yours is that being inter-species, we don’t allow meat. It would definitely ruin the ambience if someone saw a friend/family member in the stew.

Being in charge means that Lenny and George (they are the mice in the header) need to make sure that everything runs smoothly. They are looking at the sign-up sheet to see what else is needed.

George: It looks like almost everyone is bringing something.

Lenny: Oh, no! Sigmund Squirrel has signed up to bring acorn squash again. It’s your turn to tell him that smashed up acorns are different than acorn squash.

George: Fine. But you tell Hortense Hen that it creeps out people when she brings in deviled eggs. Everyone knows where they come from.

Lenny: Eww! I forgot about that.

George: It appears that Snoops and Kommando are getting together to make catnip brownies. Do you think that’s appropriate for an office party?

Lenny: If you think it’s a problem, you tell them. They scare me.

George: They’re harmless. Cat won’t let them near us.

Lenny: Don’t you remember what happened last year at the party? Snoops threatened to make me the main dish!

George: I’d forgotten all about it. Well, you did make her pretty mad.

Lenny: I thought she’d like me bringing kitty kibble.

George: You brought kitty kibble from her secret stash.

Lenny: How was I supposed to know that?

George: It was behind the kitty bed in Cat’s office.

Lenny: Oh, yeah. I told you we should have gone in together and gotten pumpkin spice ice cream and pumpkin spice coffee.

George: Most of the staff doesn’t like pumpkin.

Lenny: But it was a great sale!

George: So do you have any ideas for this year?

Lenny: I think so. What are you bringing?

George: Well, I was going to bring a cheeseball. But when I bought one last year, the kids ate out the core. They didn’t think I’d miss it. So I’m thinking almond cookies. I can go down the street to the Chinese restaurant to get them. That way, the kids won’t even see them.

Lenny: That’s a great idea! Almost everyone likes almonds or cookies.

George: So what’s your idea?

Lenny: I was thinking hot chocolate. Well, not really hot chocolate because it’s served cold.

George: So you’re bringing cold hot chocolate?

Lenny: Yeah. I found it in an old book. It think it might be someone’s family recipe. Do you want to try some? I made a test batch and brought it in.

George: Sure! I love chocolate!

(They go to Lenny’s office and close the door. Lenny brings out a pitcher and two small glasses. He pours a brownish liquid into both glasses. George sniffs and wrinkles his whiskers.)

George: This smell kinda weird, Len. Are you sure you made it right?

Lenny: I followed the recipe exactly.

George: Okay. Well, here we go.

(George takes a large mouthful, turns green, and spits it back in the glass.)

Lenny: What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?

George: That is the worst cold hot chocolate I have ever tasted. Let me see that recipe.

(Lenny pulls out the recipe and gives it to George.)

Lenny: See, it says it was put together by some doctor in Spain in 1631.

George: It says “Take one hundred cocoa beans, two chilies, a handful of anise seed and two of vanilla (two pulverized Alexandria roses can be substituted), two drams of cinnamon, one dozen almonds and the same amount of hazelnuts, half a pound of white sugar and enough annatto to give some color.”

Lenny: Yeah, it didn’t say what kind of chilies, so I asked the guy to give me a couple of hot ones. And I told you it wasn’t served hot.

George: Did you try this?

Lenny: No. The smell made me sick.

George: And you want to serve this at our party?

Lenny: I said it was an idea.

George: It’s a terrible idea.

Lenny: OK. What do you think I should bring?

George: We still need napkins and paper plates.

 

References:

http://www.thenibble.com/reviews/main/chocolate/the-history-of-chocolate.asp

http://albanykid.com/2011/12/11/hot-chocolate-hot-cocoa-and-xocoatl/

5

Never Thought I’d Live to See the Day

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It’s not like I have to look a long way to feel old. My kids have somehow morphed from being small, cute little people to fully grown, attractive people. I really don’t understand it. It’s not like I’ve gotten any older.

Even my husband has a smart phone. I have sat at dinner where he spends more time on his phone than the kids. Actually, he’s worse than the kids. My daughter uses the phone as a timer for some medications she has to take, and my son uses it to look up information we don’t know during discussions.

But my family is pretty traditional. You might have noticed that the paragraph above mentions both family dinners and discussions. We discuss politics, always a challenge (2 conservatives, 1 traditional liberal, and one populist). We also talk about religion, world events, literature, and history. I don’t discuss the dinners in public; it seems a little retro.

And (of course) the kids rarely swear in front of me. When I was young, someone told me that using too many “bad” words wasn’t sophisticated. It just showed a lack of vocabulary. I agreed, and over the years and have found various vegetables and animals effective substitutes for most things. Since it wasn’t a hot button for me, the kids respected my point of view. (I’ve come to find out that’s kind of weird too.)

There was also the issue of my mother swearing a fair amount. Who wanted to do it if their mother did?

But I have started a new job. You may remember that I am now working midnights. To stereotype, there are two groups of people there: Millennials and bitter people waiting to retire. Of course, there are a couple of people who fall outsides those groups, but they aren’t any fun to talk about.

Everyone is friendly and welcomed me into the group. I like them all. But I have never been with a group of Millennials who are relaxing with their peers. Some of them seem to be incapable of saying a complete sentence without using a word that used to be a vulgar term for sexual intercourse.

I went home and asked my Millennial son why some of his peers seemed to use the word as noun, verb, adjective, and (incorrectly) adverb. He joked and told me that if I hadn’t heard it used as a preposition, I had not heard everything. He then told me that people only used it when they were relaxing with their friends. Okay. I guess I’m flattered.

So I asked my Millennial daughter why. She said that people liked to use it because it was a “forbidden” word. She said that there were only two words that were now forbidden in “polite company.” (A term showing my age.) The other word is one that refers to female genitalia in a particularly vulgar way. Apparently that one is still more common on social media than general conversation.

I stock in an area that includes condoms and other personal items for a large chain store. I am totally in favor of condoms. Preventing pregnancy is good. Spreading disease is bad. And I’m sure that moving them out from behind the counter has been nothing but good.

However, I pity the poor teenager looking for something for his first experience. Gone are the days of choosing between three or four types of Trojans. I guess the variety in deodorant and toothpaste has come to personal protection.

There are three racks of choices, plus the selection on the shelf below and hanging on the display nearby. They pretty much all promise a more sensitive experience for him and a more sensual experience for her. You can now buy them in boxes of up to 40 which I hope are purchased by people in committed relationships. I guess the other option would be a guy with really high hopes.

The more surprising thing is that you can now buy items that go over the condom to give the female additional stimulation. I’m not sure, but I don’t think those things existed when I was young. At least they were not available on a rack in plain view of everyone, right next to the vibrators that could remove the male from the picture entirely. I wonder what the parents say when their child wanders down the aisle while they are looking at razors.

I kind of miss the days when s*** was still uncommon and the most embarrassing thing to explain to a child in a grocery store was the sanitary napkins.

 

2

Proceedings in the Court of Paws

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I finally left the cheesewall. Yes, it is true; the name of this blog is no longer related to me in any way. It’s a good thing I turned it over to the mice a few weeks ago.

I am now stocking at another store. I work midnights in either crafts and stationery or the pharmacy, (Not the real pharmacy, the stuff next to it: pain relievers, bandages, etc.). I like it a lot better.

I thought the cats would be happier. Someone would be home almost all the time. Turns out, I was totally mistaken. My presence was requested at Animal Court for the case of Kommando Kitty suing Super Snoops for alienation of affection. My affection.

The case went as follows:

Administrative Law Judge (ALJ): Does anyone have any questions before we get started?

Kommando Kitty (KK): Why do we have a German Shepherd as our judge?

ALJ: All of the judges are German Shepherds. We’re intelligent. And can sound really scary. It helps keep everyone on track. So, Ms. Kitty, why are we here today?

KK: Everyone knows that Mom is MY human. I sleep with her. I sit with her. I even follow her sometimes. But now that Mom’s home sleeping during the day, she (points at Snoops) is crawling up and sleeping in her arms before I can get there. And Mom lets her!

ALJ: What do you have to say to that, Ms. Snoops?

KK: You always napped downstairs with Dad and I was upstairs with Mom. Now you’re hogging both of them!

Super Snoops (SS): What about you? I always sit on Dad’s lap while he watches TV. Now I come into the room and you’re already there asleep. I have to guilt Mom out of her chair so I have somewhere warm to sleep.

KK: Don’t you remember? The wires in the electric blanket irritate your delicate paws. So I get the blanket that just happens to be on Dad’s lap.

SS: I can’t help it if you have tough feet. And delicate feelings.

ALJ: So what outcome are you looking for here?

KK: Don’t you decide that? Like maybe split Mom and Dad each in half so we can share better?

SS: Sometimes I think your head is fur all the way through. If we cut them in half, they’ll bleed a lot. Do you want to lay in that?

KK: EWW! No! I hadn’t thought about that.

ALJ: Have you two ever thought about sharing?

(SS and KK look at each other, perplexed)

SS: I thought you said you were smart. Cats don’t really like that word.

KK: Yeah. What do you mean?

ALJ: Couldn’t you both sleep with a human at the same time?

KK: We do that now.

(Now the judge is perplexed.)

ALJ: So what’s the problem?

KK: Who gets the arms and who gets the legs.

ALJ: Couldn’t you alternate?

KK: We do.

ALJ: So, again, what’s the problem? (He’s starts to growl under his breath.)

SS: We’re cats. We don’t like change.

ALJ: (Barking) Get out of here.

KK: Why?

ALJ: Because if you don’t, you’re both going in the kennel for a week.

(Snoops and Kommando run out and stop in the lobby)

KK: I knew it was a bad idea to come here as soon as I saw the dog.

SS: Yeah, dogs are so stupid sometimes. Know what we should do now?

KK: Of course.

Snoops and Kommando Sleeping_05292015

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Beauty and the New Chic

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As you may have assumed, my children are just like your children. Perhaps a few minor quirks, but otherwise beautiful, intelligent, and overall wonderful people. 😉

Nevertheless, it came as somewhat of a pleasant surprise to me that my daughter (the cats call her Blondie, so I’ll use “B”) went to an audition for a talent agency and was immediately picked to represent them at a talent convention in LA (Los Angeles, not Louisiana) after the first of the year.

All that I know about this type of thing comes from America’s Next Top Model (which I watched with B) and my cousin trying to get her toddler into some beauty pageants back in the ‘80s. Every once in a while I would wander in and see part of Dance Moms.

Needless to say, as happy as I was for B, I was a little anxious to see how it was going to work out. I figured it had to be good that they were going to give her a scholarship for the classes she needed to take before the trip and for part of the trip. Apparently it helps to also be wealthy if you want to show the world how beautiful/talented you are.

B is going for photography, commercials and singing. I guess another 6 inches would have been beneficial for the runway part. She wears her own clothes which isn’t bad, but a little strange. They had a photo shoot the other day. (I guess the people in LA need to know that they really are only accepting beautiful people.)

She had a “casual” look which included something they called “army boots.” In black (of course.) No, not the ones that lace up to your ankles; the ones that come up to your ankles with heels and pointed toes. B had a pair, but she needed to get another pair because hers did not have a zipper on the side. The ones she got have zippers on both sides, but apparently that’s acceptable.

Before she went to the photo shoot, B went to the salon. I went with her because it was a ways from home and she didn’t know how to get there. It was in a chic neighborhood, so I knew exactly what to expect. The front would be quiet with extremely well-groomed young women who would ask you why you were there. An assistant would take you to the back where there were innumerable people walking around with good haircuts and casual (expensive) clothes. It would all be a little overwhelming. At least that was my experience from my days as a consultant when I frequented such places.

Times have changed. We walked in the front door and it was loud. Not loud music, just loud. She had to speak over the noise to be heard. They had her go to the “face salon” first; they pointed. They took a “before” picture, waxed her eyebrows, and did the final decision-making on her hair.,

The salon had a leather bench across from the reception desk where I waited. Apparently the salon caters to a clientele that is somewhere between chic and shabby-chic. I was expecting cutting-edge; I got suburban instead. How disappointing – it was all regular people with regular clothes and hair. There was a manager person in a mauve silky dress to her knees, ruffled maroon knee socks and black pumps. I knew the look she was going for. Unfortunately she didn’t get there.

On the other hand, B was stunning. In place of her wavy dark blonde, shoulder-length hair, she had a chocolate brown short bob with a chocolate glaze (kind of sounds like a pastry). She has dark blue eyes and high cheekbones, so the short hair really worked. I hardly recognized the exhausted barista I had brought in.

Before we could leave, B had to have her “after” picture taken and a final color consult for the actual shoot. Apparently she passed.

As we left, I had one thought: Thank goodness the agency paid for this out of the money we gave them.