A whale of a tale and it's all true; I swear by my tattoo.

Am I the only one who is slightly disturbed by this whole bin Laden thing?

I got a sales call this morning at work--some bargain basement health insurance company trying to sell us a new insurance plan. The woman who called, right before she hung up, said "We finally got him! God bless America."

I managed to mumble something like: "....ummm..."

But thankfully she hung up, so I was saved from having to comment. 

I dunno. I'm really not that knowledgeable about the whole situation with Pakistan and Afghanistan and Iraq and the War On Terror™, so I should probably just shut up, but I do know that I am not ok with this. Something about these news reports of bin Laden's death and people celebrating outside the White House and waving flags and chanting at the Twin Towers site just rubs me the wrong way. A nagging feeling that won't go away, like when you leave the house and you're almost certain you left the back door unlocked...

It goes back to when those planes crashed into the towers. At 17, I knew even less about the politics of the whole situation, but I had the same nagging feeling when I heard about the subsequent invasion of Iraq (because when one country attacks you, it makes perfect sense to attack their neighbours?) and the hunt for Osama bin Laden "DEAD OR ALIVE!!" I'm not sure what it was, but I do know that it felt like something was missing. Some crucial piece of the whole that left me feeling like all the stories they put on the news didn't add up. 

Forgive me if I sound unpatriotic. I don't think bin Laden was the one and only criminal mastermind behind 9/11 (umm, duh?). And I don't think him being dead changes anything. 

In more pertinent news:

- My house has been invaded by ants.

- I have acquired a new My Little Pony--a gorgeous little lad named Ice Crystal

Methinks there may be a romance blooming with Sugar Apple....

- I am fat.

Liquid fasting today and tomorrow, and possibly Wednesday. One of my old rules is that for each day of bingeing I had on the weekend (2 days this past weekend, Friday and Sunday), I must liquid fast (>200 cals) for one day. But since today is a writing workshop day, I would normally liquid fast anyway because I don't get to go to the gym; so for that I might add an extra day and fast until Thursday morning. 

Mum knows what she's doing, despite her "oh I just thought I'd get you a little treat" excuses. Every mothereffing time she does the food shopping, she comes home with a family size box of Cocoa Pebbles.

It's a silent battle of wills. She knows I don't eat enough, but she doesn't know what to say or do about it. (Our family is like this with everything that could be potentially scandalous, or involving any kind of mental health issue--we don't talk about it.) So in an attempt to get me to eat, she sneaks gateway foods into the cupboards. I managed to resist the Cocoa Pebbles on Saturday, but caved last night. I had 2 bowls (go me! not the whole box!). Then this morning, after Mum left for work, I took the box outside and dumped the rest of the cereal out in the woods behind the shed.

My neighbours must think I am a complete loony. I'm not really bothered if anyone sees me being crazy or whatever, and I am at my most uncensored when I'm at home. Over the years, the neighbours have seen me frequently leaving the driveway only to do a circle in the cul-de-sac and go straight back into the driveway again (because I have to go back and make sure I didn't leave the doors unlocked/windows open/stove on/tumble dryer door open/etc.); wandering round my bedroom completely nude with the blinds open (I don't like them closed--I get claustrophobic); attempting to garden 

I like to think that I'm Really Into Gardening, but that doesn't go so well when you have an epic worm-phobia

that leads to frantic vomiting, usually into the neighbour's yard.

And of course, there's the dumping of food out behind the shed onto what is very obviously not a compost heap.

The raccoons have apparently cottoned on to the fact that someone in my house is the source of the food pile behind the shed. Daisy the fat cat had a spastic freak-out last night when she espied a raccoon knocking on the back door. (It was super cute--it had its hands up against the glass and was peering into the kitchen.) Daisy was kind of cute too, puffed up to 3 times her usual size

and attacking the glass, then tearing around the house and knocking things over, freaking out Callisto,

 and freaking out Mum,

 before she finally ran out of energy and collapsed.

One of the many reasons that cats are superior to dogs. :D

meow

I don't know what to talk about. 


So why waste perfectly good internet space with pointless rambling, you ask?


Well I don't have a good answer for that one. Sometimes you just need to ramble. 


Is it sick that this makes me laugh a lot?


3 Year old crying over Justin Bieber


Y'all may have noticed that the pics from the top of the blog are gone. They're actually not gone--I just moved them to the bottom because I can no longer stand to look at that photo of myself at 96 pounds. 


I've been on the Spiru-tein fast for 2 days now. I'm actually running out of Spiru-tein, but I discovered not that long ago that the Fairway Market carries every single flavour (it's impossible to find that stuff anywhere else). I want to try the chocolate fudge crunch one, and the cappuccino. 


There's some more new photos up! And hopefully, I'll be getting that last set back tomorrow (the ones the photo place screwed up). I don't even remember what was on that roll...


I feel like a failure because I have no fun MSPaint drawings. I'm even out of back up emergency silly stuff. (That's the name of the folder on my desktop where I save random fun things I find on the internet; it's currently empty).


My room is clean!! Just spent the last 2 hours tidying. I get into these psycho cleaning moods sometimes--I'll start by putting away something small, like a book back on the shelf. And then it suddenly escalates and I tear around the room like a maniac because I MUST CLEAN EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW!!!


And now I can see my desk. It's really exciting. 


Kitty is downstairs HOWLING. I don't know when she developed this habit. Most likely we've just spoiled her too much over the years. 13 years of spoiling built up, and now Callisto will follow you around the house with the non stop meow meow MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW until you eventually lose it and go psycho to scare her out of the room for a few minutes of peace and quiet.


She'll be back in 5-10 minutes, and start over. Especially if you go anywhere near the refrigerator. She can hear the fridge door open from upstairs, on the other side of the house, behind a closed door. 


But she's such a sweet little muffin. <3

She's a midget--only 6 pounds. She also has an eating disorder I think, because she will flat out refuse to eat for days if we don't feed her something she likes. And then other times she'll inhale her whole bowl of food in under a minute and go puke it up right after she's done.

And I spoil that cat rotten. 


We would spoil the other one as well, but she's not interested.

Daisy likes sleeping. She likes eating, too (as you can see^--Daisy weighs 13 pounds), but she's not that into human food. Once in a while, when we're giving Callisto bits of our dinner, Daisy will come and get some; but mostly she just likes her dry food. She pouts a lot because the vet put her on a diet of less dry food. So she just sleeps more.


Ok if I've reached the point of cat stories, I think maybe it's time to call it a night.


<3