In which there is prolific use of the caps lock.

Posted: January 17, 2010 in Headspace, pets, weekend

I woke up in a fabulously bad mood this morning – a holdover from the bad mood I went to bed in last night. I place my entire black mood entirely on the narrow yet fuzzy shoulders of one Mr. Ozzy Britches, who managed to piss me the HELL OFF last night. Bill had gone to bed, I stayed up and watched “Julie and Julia” with Amanda (more on that in a minute), then when it was over she went off to the store for pancake fixin’s (when the craving strikes, it strikes!) and I sat reading a book on the living room couch. Suddenly a loud BANG! SCRAAATCH! caused me to snap my head up and behold Oz JUMPING UP TO GRAPPLE HIS FRONT PAWS OVER THE TOP EDGE OF THE TELEVISION, scrabbling with his BACK CLAWS on the SCREEN to find purchase. Right in front of me. After about an hour of me hollering at him because he was tearing around the house, hell bent for litter (heh), torturing Zoe and making her make THAT NOISE, which made me jump every time it happened.

I got furious, completely and gloriously, all at once. Stomped to the bathroom, grabbed the almost full 64-oz water spray bottle, and proceeded to chase that damned cat around the house for the next fifteen minutes, spraying whichever part of him was exposed as he dodged and parried and ran over tables and behind couches. Zoe even got into the game and chased him a few times. He was one SOAKED and FURIOUS cat by the time I was done with him and he huffed upstairs to pout under Amanda’s bed, and I was FINE WITH THAT.

The person who was most decidedly NOT fine was Bill, whom I’d woken up in my war with That Damned Cat. So then HE was in a bad mood, and we were in a bad mood together and at each other, and it was bad. Mmkay? So he watched SNL and I went to bed and the majority of the badness was averted.

This morning I got up and was faced with a PILE of dirty dishes that Amanda had collected in her Quest! For! Pancakes! So I grumbled about being the only person in the whole damned house that seems to be capable of loading the dishwasher. Then I fed the cats, and grumbled that they act like they’re fucking STARVING every thirty goddamn minutes. Then I grabbed the dog’s dish to fill with water and set out back for Gadget and Gypsy, and saw that Amanda’s dog had emptied every single drop of water in the dish we keep indoors for the cats and the dogs when they’re inside. So I grumbled that she could fill the stupid water dish every ONCE IN A WHILE, since it’s HER dog that constantly empties it.

Then I made coffee and sat down and finished my book. Got up and got cracking in the kitchen. Forcefully and emphatically filled the dishwasher and got it running. Gave myself a stern talking to that there was no reason at all for this really very bad mood, and that I’d better exorcise it before Bill got up because he surely didn’t deserve to receive the brunt of it. Got fed up at having to constantly readjust the hair clip in my hair, which kept slipping out of the twist I had it in. Removed the clip and threw it across the room and observed with some dissatisfaction that this action seemed to DELIGHT Oz, at whom I was still pissed. He batted that thing around for a half-hour, and has been stalking me ALL DAY LONG, trying to butter me up and get me to relent. I shall NOT. Although I did buy some Fancy Damned Feast for their Snackin! Time!* tonight. It’s all for Zoe, I swear.

(*Term blatantly stolen from Robyn.)

I got started on the roast I was putting in the crock pot, then decided an hour of puttering in the kitchen was in order, and started making potato salad. Got the eggs boiling and was in the process of peeling a five pound bag of potatoes when Bill came wandering into the kitchen.

He gave me a hug and a kiss and IMMEDIATELY AND MIRACULOUSLY I was in a fantastic mood. Just like that. It was awesome.

I made Trader Joe’s Colossal Shrimp in Garlic and Herbs with some good ol’ Uncle Ben’s rice pilaf for lunch. Then we watched some football, wrestled, watched some more football, and did some light cleaning. I messed with the beardies (Lucy REALLY loves apples, apparently), went to the store for a few things, and we’re right this very second rooting for the New York Jets. Since the Cardinals didn’t make it through yesterday’s game (fuckers), my last hold-out is to at LEAST make sure the Chargers don’t get into the Super Bowl.

Not even a twinge of the bad mood remained, after Bill got up this morning. Riddle me that. Actually, I know the answer, but it’s all warm fuzzie snoofie snoofie and I’m sure you don’t want to hear all that.

———-

So, speaking of “Julie and Julia”, I recall mentioning here that I HATED the book. I hated the protagonist (that would be Julie). She MADE me hate her. She was selfish and awful and occasionally stupid and DRAMATIC. Have I mentioned that I hate dramatic people? GAH. (Yes, my darling snowflakes, the irony is not lost on me that I had a hissy and threw my hair clip across the room just this morning.)

Anyway. The movie was actually pretty good – I think they actually toned down the actresses (actress’?) portrayal of Julie so that she wouldn’t come across as so damned unlikable. This may be the first time in history that I liked the movie better than the book. I certainly loved Meryl Streep’s portrayal of Julia Child. Spot-on.

I only watched the movie because my sister, whom I talked with for an hour and a half last night, raved about it. RAVED.

So now – just like apparently the entire REST of the planet who thinks they know how to boil water and also watched the movie – I want to make Boeuf Bourguignon a la Julia Child. Except that I CAN’T make it, apparently, because I do not possess a Le Creuset Buffet Casserole. And the REASON that I do not possess a Le Creuset Buffet Casserole is because them thar fuckers cost about TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY DOLLERS. For a CASSEROLE DISH.

That didn’t stop me, of course, from adding it to my Amazon Wish List. Did you know I have three of them? One for books, one for cooking and kitchen stuff, and one for music, DVD’s, and “misc”, the kind of “misc” that consists almost entirely of camera gear so that I think I’ll just re-name that particular wish list, “Camera Crack”.

Anyway (again). There was no particular point other than to say that I WANT to make Boeuf Bourguignon a la Julia Child but that I CAN’T make Boeuf Bourguignon a la Julia Child without the essential casserole dish. Which I’m sure would turn out AWESOME because have I mentioned? I’m a FANTASTIC cook. Ah, for want of a nail…

———-

Thus concludes this peek into the tangled mess that is my psyche. Carry on.

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Comments
  1. Calvin says:

    what cracks me up more than you (H-Kitty) pitching a fit is Oz no matter what you do still thinks you are a level below him in the pecking order around here.
    It was odd to watch him spend the day split between kissing your ass and stalking you.

  2. Shelli says:

    OMFG, that was about the funniest thing I’ve read in weeks! WEEKS! At least I know now, when you title a post with anything to do with the caps lock, to not be drinking anything which will take effort to clean off the monitor. On the flip side of that coin, thanks for the incentive to clean my monitor – it was looking a bit icky lately. ­čśÇ

  3. Taoist Biker says:

    Did he actually scratch the screen? ‘Cuz if so, it may be time to let him know where he ranks on the food chain. Literally. A “Scared Straight” visit to the alligator exhibit.

  4. Amanda says:

    Awesome entry!

    As for Beef Bourguignon, I made it this weekend in my slow cooker, so it wasn’t a la Julia Child, but it was damn good anyway! If you want, I can send you the recipe, just to hold you over until you get your super-duper-expensive casserole dish (just email me in case I don’t think to come back here to check)

  5. […] remember how a couple of weeks ago – okay, more like a month ago – I was talking about how Amanda and I watched “Julie and Julia” and how I now simply HAD TO make Boeuf […]

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