Itchin' to start bloggin'
I had brunch with a friend the other day (well, a few friends) and Carolyn (hi hon!) mentioned that I don't blog enough. I think that's true, because although I am obsessed with the goodness that is F-B (anyone wanna play WT? Scr@bble? huh? huh?) it isn't really the place where you post thoughts. So I'm going to try an experiment where for the next few weeks (until we leave for Hawaii on 8/8) I blog every day or every other day.
There you go. All the Cara you can stand. Yum.
So speaking of itching, my summary for today would be something along these lines: I've got itchy arms, a dying cat, and I'm wantin' a cocktail bad, baby. Shitty country song, yes, but it's also a good summary of my Monday. I can't figure out what's going on with the pollen or whatever around here but Jeez Louise, my arms and my eyes are itchy as all hell. I'm slathered in hydrocortisone cream (here's a tip: OTC preparation H works fabulous in a jam, FYI) but I still want to rub myself up against a tree a la Bare the Bear in the Jungle Book. Sampson's not doing so well, and I'm actually considering a trip to a local vet oncologist for an opinion as to whether a few zaps of radiation would help him. He's eating, drinking, grooming, using the litter box, and playing, but the snarfles have returned. It's hard to believe the tumor has come back already since it's a low-grade extramedullary plasmacytoma. So I'm not sure where to go from here. He's such a cutie, though, it breaks my heart to not at least schedule a consult.
And as for the cocktail, I had to haul Mr. Big-Ass-Butters to the vet today, I got 4 hours' sleep with Sampson last night, and I want to itch my skin off. You can see why I might want a girlie cocktail. Lychee liqueur, come to mama.
OK, y'all, I've blathered enough for now. Until tomorrow, hasta la pasta.
There you go. All the Cara you can stand. Yum.
So speaking of itching, my summary for today would be something along these lines: I've got itchy arms, a dying cat, and I'm wantin' a cocktail bad, baby. Shitty country song, yes, but it's also a good summary of my Monday. I can't figure out what's going on with the pollen or whatever around here but Jeez Louise, my arms and my eyes are itchy as all hell. I'm slathered in hydrocortisone cream (here's a tip: OTC preparation H works fabulous in a jam, FYI) but I still want to rub myself up against a tree a la Bare the Bear in the Jungle Book. Sampson's not doing so well, and I'm actually considering a trip to a local vet oncologist for an opinion as to whether a few zaps of radiation would help him. He's eating, drinking, grooming, using the litter box, and playing, but the snarfles have returned. It's hard to believe the tumor has come back already since it's a low-grade extramedullary plasmacytoma. So I'm not sure where to go from here. He's such a cutie, though, it breaks my heart to not at least schedule a consult.
And as for the cocktail, I had to haul Mr. Big-Ass-Butters to the vet today, I got 4 hours' sleep with Sampson last night, and I want to itch my skin off. You can see why I might want a girlie cocktail. Lychee liqueur, come to mama.
OK, y'all, I've blathered enough for now. Until tomorrow, hasta la pasta.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home