Hot Damn.

Remember way back in the election frenzy that meme going around about donating to Planned Parenthood in Sarah Palin’s name?

I just got a letter from Planned Parenthood today:

In response to the anonymous email message circulated back in September during the presidential campaign, urging people to donate to Planned Parenthood in honor of Gov. Sarah Palin, Planned Parenthood (nationally) has received about $1 million from 40,000 donors. Locally we received over 275 gifts totaling close to $5000! Thank you so much for supporting Planned Parenthood!

Fuck yeah.


Yay for cabs!

My Friday night, in bullet points:

Much fun was had. :D

Originally published at Jen’s Corner. You can comment here or there.


Who says cats are graceful?

Who says cats are graceful?

They must have some massive PR budget, because my cats, at least, are decidedly not graceful.

Proof lies in the tale I’m about to relate.

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OK, take a look at this picture. This is an old picture; now there is another bookcase along the wall between the light and dark bookcases. It fits snugly – the corners of the book cases meet, creating a square behind them that is blocked off. Nothing is there, can’t get to it. The plastic containers on top of the bookcase aren’t there any more, but the monkey with the banana is.

So.

Lately the cats have been getting up there and knocking the monkey onto the floor. Almost daily we’ll find him sitting on the floor; once, we found him drug halfway down the stairs.

Today, today was their peak performance. I’m minding my own business, poking around on the computer when I hear a cat crying. Now we can usually tell more or less what the cats vocalizations mean. Playful, mad, hungry, needy – whatever, we can usually tell. Also, each cat has its own distinctive sound; Max is loud and tends to be yowly, George has the tiniest meow but can be heard when he wants to be, Fred is quite talkative, Tasha rarely meows, she mostly chirps and mrrrps. Yes, that’s a word. Really.

So there is this pathetic meow that sounded unfamiliar. It was definitely one of ours, but not of a sort I’ve heard them make. I go looking for the source, and end up in the library. George is agitated, and is snuffling the bookshelf. Fred is perched on the cat tree, looking very interested in the proceedings. The monkey is again on the floor. And then I heard the cat cry again.

Out from between the two bookcases where the corners meet, a grey paw waves pathetically. Tasha had managed to get up on the bookcase, shove the monkey off, and then, graceful creature that she is, either decided to see what was down in that corner, or simply fell off. I don’t know how long she was in there – could have been up to four or five hours, but honestly, I don’t think it was that long. The way the cats were acting, I think it had been a recent adventure.

To get her out, we had to empty one bookcase, so we could move it away from the wall. I’m not sure how we’re going to solve this little problem, either.

Cats.

Originally published at Jen’s Corner. You can comment here or there.


Sweet George

I’m sitting at my computer desk, trying to wake up. George comes up to my leg with his remarkably tiny meowsqueak and demands to be picked up. He collapses on my arm against my neck purring madly. I croon his name and he throws his head back to look at me upside down.

I hope he never outgrows this.

Observation Post

Originally published at Jen’s Corner. You can comment here or there.