Why so serious?

My niece as The Joker. She looks amazing. Apparently, I have no Halloween pictures of her when she was little. Weird.

So, instead, here's her aunt -- yes, me -- age 4, in a homemade "gypsy" costume. I think this was my favorite Halloween costume of all time.

Have you seen this?

It's a crazy British show called "Green Wing" and it's hilarious. Well, hilarious if you like British humor -- crass, sometimes raunchy British humor, that is.

I think this blurb from Wikipedia describes it quite well: Green Wing's plot revolves around the lives of the staff of the East Hampton Hospital Trust, an NHS hospital with staff ranging from the slightly unusual to the completely bizarre.

You can watch the entire series on Hulu. The S.O. and I watched the first season on BBC America. Then got to see the first episode of season two while we were actually in London. But BBC America never brought the second season to our shores. So we languished, never knowing what became of our crazy Green Wingers. Now, I can see it all.

Yesterday, I sat around all day, recovering from my dear friend's Halloween party and watched three episodes of the second season. I'm seriously considering starting over from the beginning.

As I said, it does take a certain taste in comedy. So please don't blame me if you watch it and don't like it. But if you like British television, you should give it a try . You might like it.

Giving it a try

Last November, I missed out on the start of National Blog Posting Month and wasn't able to post every day in November. I signed up for e-mails so I would be ready this year. Am I ready to post every day for a month? Probably not. But I'm off to a good start. Right?

We attended a Zombie Halloween Party last night. Here's a picture of my costume:

Yeah, sometimes I look like this in the morning -- minus the neck wound.

I went as a doctor who had been bitten by an infected patient. The S.O. was an intern who got bitten by me. It's important to have a back story, you know.

And the award goes to ...

Me! Yay, me. Well, I do have to share the award, but that's OK. Any award is worth accepting.

The award comes from my very good friend Lisa, who blogs over at Grandma's Briefs about the love of her life, her Bubby.

Here's my award:
I'm sharing it with two other good friends: K at Won't You Be My Cubemate, whose sharp wit always keeps me on my toes, and Heather at Jackadillo Princess, who writes hilariously about the antics of her toddler. You'll have to read her site to learn more about her blog's name.

So, here are the rules:

1) Present this award to 7 others whose blogs I find brilliant in content and/or design, or those who have encouraged me.
2) Tell those 7 people they’ve been awarded HONEST SCRAP and inform them of these guidelines in receiving the award.
3) Share “10 Honest Things” about myself.

Like my friends K and Heather, I don't know if I can come up with a full 7 blogs I regularly read -- that will care. But I do have a few I can mention.

The rules don't say I can't re-Award, so I'm awarding Honest Scrap back to Lisa at Grandma's Briefs. I will also award Won't You Be My Cubemate, for the reasons stated above. Likewise to Jackadillo Princess.

Next award goes to my friend Melissa at You Drive Mommy To Write, whose precious and precocious children inspire her musings and always bring a smile to my face.

I will also award MoArdy at A Motivated Notion, because she consistently makes me laugh and she inspired me to run my first ever 5k.

So, that's only five, and while there are many brilliant blogs out there, these are five I consistently read that aren't giants of the industry.

Now, the hard part: My 10 Honest Things.

1. I consider being told I'm funny the highest compliment, followed closely by being told I'm snarky, bitchy or cute.

2. Since my mom died, I have very little sentimentality about my family. I feel like friends are a choice, and I can choose to be friends with my family. But I don't want being around my family to feel like an obligation simply because we share genes.

3. I hate admitting when I'm sick. I almost always say something like, "I'm fighting a cold" or "I'm trying not to get sick." Very seldom will I actually come right out and say, "I'm sick."

4. I'm sick right now.

5. I am terrible perfectionist. Terrible because if I can't do something perfectly, I generally won't do it at all. Which leads to ...

6. I am a classic underachiever. I do -- and have always done -- just enough to get by. Lucky for me, I'm smart and got through school with mostly As. Give me a task and I will do it, quite capably usually. But I never really went in for anything that took a lot of extra effort.

7. I'm not good at relationships. I have multiple divorces. My current relationship is a record -- more than five years with the same guy!

8. I'm dying to get a tattoo but don't want to be like everyone else.

9. I only cry at movies when I am by myself because I don't want anyone to think I'm weak.

10. I am self-deprecating -- probably to a fault. Which probably makes it hard to give me a compliment or take me especially seriously when I give you 10 Honest Things.

Should I get his autograph now?

The S.O. gave me a guitar for my birthday this past January, and in March, I finally broke down and started taking lessons. They've been going well, and I'm starting to feel like I can actually play and am not just learning.

Yesterday, my guitar teacher tells me he's moving to Nashville at the beginning of the year to pursue an actual career in music! He has assured me he'll find me a new teacher and even has someone in mind. I know, though, that this new teacher will not be as much -- and there's no way he'll be as cute -- as my current teacher.

I just can't believe he's not taking my needs into consideration. He just has stars in his eyes. Sure, he's talented, plays guitar well, has a good singing voice -- and did I mention he's cute? So he'll probably be a big hit, and I can say I knew him when.

That's not going to teach me how to play guitar though. Geez. Some people are so selfish.

The cat came back

Our sneaky little night visitor made another appearance -- today at 2 a.m. This time, the little bugger made himself quite at home inside our house.

The S.O. -- suffering from insomnia -- was up playing computer games, when he heard the dog door flap. He says the cat was making himself at home then zoomed out through the doggie door without hesitation at the site of the S.O.

Makes me wonder how many times the little bugger has visited us.

Hello, may I come in

This morning, as I prepared to brave the fog to go to "Boot Camp," I noticed little paw prints in the snow (yep, I said, "Snow.") on the back deck. My first thought was, Oh, good, it didn't snow anymore after Ripley's last trip out last night.

Then, I looked a little closer and noticed that these paw prints (1) didn't actually head into the house and (2) weren't doggy prints. So, at some point in the night a cat took a stroll around the deck, stopping to peer in through the back door. I'm thinking we should probably lock up the dog door at night to prevent a nocturnal visitor.

I'm pretty sure it's an actual flesh and blood cat and not Inky coming back for a visit. For one thing, he knew how to use the dog door. For another, I'm really hoping Inky's off in kitty heaven enjoying fresh tuna and catnip and not haunting our back deck in the snow.

Seriously? Why?

Someone made what I thought was a joke on a site I was reading earlier. He said there's a Marmaduke movie in the works - you know Marmaduke, giant dog, terrorizes the neighbors, eats everything, one-panel "comic" strip that hasn't been funny since I was a child -- and probably wasn't actually funny then.

But it isn't a joke, people -- Look!

The worst part for me is that Lee Pace is going to be in it -- the Pie Maker, he of the beautiful eyebrows. Look, Lee, I already took Jason Lee off the list for "Underdog" and "Alvin and the F***ing Chipmunks." Now, you? After "Wonderfalls" and "Pushing Daisies," you've come to this?

Thanks a lot, Hollywood.

But wait. Maybe it'll be great. Maybe it'll be Oscar worthy. Yes, maybe. And maybe I'll win a Pulitzer Prize for this blog entry and they'll turn it into a movie. And the part of Pammeey will be played by Winona Ryder and Lee Pace will be played by Jake Gyllenhaal and the blog itself will be played by Jack Black.

Hey, I've seen worse.

A very Basic book

In the vein of Awful Library Books, I bring you Donated Books Are Hilarious.

Our tutoring program accepts donations for our "trade books" -- little libraries of books kids can take home, read, then bring back to trade for another book. Using donated books means we don't have to worry if the books never make it back to our "library." We've found there are kids who don't have shelves full of books at home -- some don't have any.

That said, I don't think we should try to pawn off crap books to these kids either. Sure, as long as they're reading, I don't care if it's comic books or the newspaper or classics. But yesterday I pulled a book from our trade books shelf that is only appropriate for one thing: Making adults laugh.

It's not that the book is naughty or inappropriate in any "adult" kind of way. It was written in 1985, and while plenty of books from that decade and earlier are still worth reading (I'm thinking Newberry Award winners and other classics), this book is nothing short of ridiculous. It was probably a bit silly in 1985.

I give you "The BASIC Book" by Seymour Simon.

"A computer will do what you want only if you give it exact, step-by-step instructions.
A step-by-step list of instruction for a computer to follow is called a program.
Programs have to be written in a 'language' computers understand.
There are many different computer languages. BASIC is on language most home computers understand."

Just imagine giving this book to a kid today. Check out the "computer" these kids are working on. Not only is it gigantic, it's all in one piece. It's possible some kids grandparent has one of these in the attic somewhere, but unless the kid is a huge fan of the movie "War Games," he probably doesn't know what it's for.

I brought it home to show the S.O. He's kind of a computer geek, you know. I even offered to let a friend take it for her computer class at college. I thought maybe she could get extra credit.

It's a bit of a precursor for text messages. The kids surprise Adam with a birthday message on the computer -- at a party they're all attending together. And Adam writes a program to thank them all.

"Then Adam types RUN and presses the RETURN key. What do you think everyone sees on the screen?

RUN
HELLO, EVERYONE!
THIS IS YOUR FRIEND ADAM
MAKING A COMPUTER TELL YOU
SOMETHING IMPORTANT.
WHAT A GREAT BIRTHDAY!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THAT'S ONE THANK YOU
FOR EACH FRIEND."

The very best part? On the back is a message from the publisher. The first sentence says it all:

"Children want to be up-to-date."

I don't think this is the book for them.

So long, summer

It's actually spitting snow out there today, along with the rain. Which means it's time to snuggle up and wait for the sun to come back.
We're debating whether or not to get a kitten. Ripley is getting really spoiled being an "only child." But there are things I miss about having a cat -- the purring, the kitty massages, the cuddling. Although, as I type, the dog is curled up on my lap because she doesn't like the wind, rain and snow. She just needs to start purring.

Smarter than we give them credit for

Yesterday, I stopped by the vet's office to pick up Inky's ashes. I plan to bury them in our little aspen grove in the backyard. While there, a man came out of the exam room with his little black cat. He put her down on the counter where I was standing, and she promptly proceeded to curl up against my chest and submit to my petting. Her name is Desert Storm, and she's blind (or at least mostly). She's 18 years old.

While owner paid the bill, DS sat quite contentedly against me, arching her back slightly against my hand as I pet her. As much as I try not to anthropomorphize, I can't help thinking this little kitty knew I need some purr therapy.

Ripley has also been acting a little different lately. She and Inky weren't exactly buds, but obviously Ripley is aware that something is different. She alternates between begging for extra treats -- because she expects to be spoiled as the only "child" -- and being nervous and clingy.

Again it's probably anthropomorphizing, but I really think animals know when something is up, when we need a mood boost or just a cuddle. They seem to be quite intuitive. That's on top of being lovable and cute, of course.

And then we said goodbye

He fought the good fight, but in the end it was just too much for him. He was going downhill quickly. We didn't want him to suffer, and with the long weekend ahead, we didn't want to say goodbye in the office of an emergency vet. Instead, we got to hold him and say goodbye and be comforted by the compassionate doctors that know us and him.

I imagine Inky's heaven is filled with black pants that he can cover with hair, bathroom sinks that run water nonstop, wall-to-wall catnip, a sunny window, a warm lap and someone to rub his ears.

The cat lady is cautiously optimistic

After several days of visiting the vet and receiving fluids subcutaneously, Inky is up and about. He has an appetite and has even begged for treats.

He's still a bit weak -- but still tries to jump on the counter -- and thin. But he's showing some of his old fire. There's a spark in his eyes that wasn't there last week, and he was waiting by the door this morning for his breakfast.

I'll keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best.

Crazy cat lady

This is Inky.He's been in my life longer than any man I've known (excluding family). I brought him home from the barn where I took riding lessons, way back in 1995. When he looked like this:There was no way to resist that little face. Since then, he has made the move from Illinois to Colorado with me -- traipsing back and forth from the Western Slope to the Front Range. He's been a constant in this sometimes crazy life.

Today, his kidneys are failing. It's so common in cats but never easy to hear. We're giving him fluids subcutaneously in hopes of flushing out the waste the kidneys can't handle. The look on the face of the vet and the tech wasn't very encouraging, but I left him in their capable hands for the day.

The look on Inky's face as I walked away was heart wrenching. I hope he knows I'm trying to help him fight.

All I can do is pray that the protector of sick kitties is watching over him.

How to tell if you're wearing too much cologne

If your scent is wafting out of your car window and can be detected by a person in another vehicle on a crowded road, going more than 50 miles per hour, you might be wearing too much cologne.

I'm sure there's a logical explanation

In case you didn't know, I'm a huge "Ghost Hunters" fan. New episodes started this week, so I was pretty excited to watch the show I recorded last night. When they find something they can't explain, I get goosebumps -- and there was plenty unexplained on this week's program.

Moments after the show ended and I turned off the TV, I heard a strange whirring noise. At first, I thought it must be one of the neighbors running some kind of machine outside. As I walked upstairs from the TV room, I realized it was coming from my house. I followed the noise to the S.O.'s office where I found the shredder running. I'm guessing something fell off his desk and hit the on button. But the only thing near by was a piece of paper. So, maybe it was on and the paper set off the sensor. Does that happen? I hit the off button. And just to be safe, unplugged it. (Yes, it was plugged in).

To top this story off, I had to squeeze my arm behind the S.O.'s huge desk to reach the plug. And almost couldn't pull my arm back out. Yep, home alone with my arm stuck behind the desk. I could see the S.O.'s cell phone perched on a shelf ... just out of reach. Lucky for me, Boot Camp really is paying off, and I was able to shift the desk just enough to pull my arm out. So, that was dumb. But I really didn't want the shredder to come on again. And. If it comes on now, I really can't come up with a logical explanation.

Hello, Taps?

The waiting is the hardest part

One of the things I do to help pay the bills is write vehicle reviews. Well, "reviews" is a loose term. What I really do is drive cars, trucks, vans, SUVs, then write glowing articles about them. I don't really get to critique them. I do get to drive a new vehicle every week, and it does give me some money.

The worst part about this particular job is waiting around for some car dealer's general manager to call me back. Some are better than others. And some car dealers just have me call a marketing manager. There are a couple dealers that I won't name who are notorious for not returning phone calls. I understand being busy, but delegate. And the fact that this is part of your advertising budget, should mean something. They act as if they're doing me a favor.

So, I'm sitting here this morning -- the day before my deadline -- waiting to see if I'll hear from the dealer. And yes, I've already checked with the sales rep at the newspaper and my "editor" to see if someone -- anyone -- can light a fire under this guy.

Those of you who know me, know patience isn't one of my strong suits. But I'll wait. And wait. And wait.

*slow burn*

Resemblance

Thinking I'd get organized, I've been going through photos -- both on my computer and in old boxes. One of the features in iPhoto is something called "Faces." It allows you to put names to faces on your photographs. When you name someone, the program suggests other photos in which that person might be. I'm not exactly sure how it works (I'm thinking magic) but it's pretty darn accurate, finding faces that share a resemblance. Sometimes it finds a similar expression or hairstyle. It also allows you to confirm a number of faces at a time.

As I was adding my mom's name to old photos, these two came up:

The first photo is my 15-year-old nephew. The other is my mom. She was probably 7 or 8 here. I'd never noticed it until these pictures came up side by side, but they sure share some features.

My mom used to always say none of her kids looked anything like her. Actually, I think it was something along the lines of, "If I hadn't given birth to you, I wouldn't know any of you were mine." Yet, here's photographic evidence of a family resemblance.

And there are worse people in our lives to resemble.

Smarty pants

I realized awhile back that parents really don't it like when you compare the antics of your pets to the antics of their children.

Well, this study shows I'm not so far off the mark:

The canine IQ test results are in: Even the average dog has the mental abilities of a 2-year-old child.

The finding is based on a language development test, revealing average dogs can learn 165 words (similar to a 2-year-old child), including signals and gestures, and dogs in the top 20 percent in intelligence can learn 250 words.

Border collies, poodles and German Shepherds are among the smartest, according to the tests. Dogs are as smart as 3 and 4 year olds when it comes to math, the story says. And they surpass even teens when it comes to social skills (but are we really surprised by that?).

Granted, I don't see rat terrier on that list, but I'm pretty sure my dog is still as smart as most toddlers.

For one thing, she's totally potty trained.

I'm going to stick with kids' movies

Or just keep reading books.

Yeah, I know I should never hold out hope that a movie will live up to the book it's based on. But I still do ... sometimes. "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" was great, right?

I wanted to see the movie version of "The Time Traveler's Wife." But based on this information, I won't. Happy ending? Bleh.

Thanks to the Internet, I won't waste my time. Oh, I'm sure the movie version may jerk a few tears, but they'll be sappy, happy tears -- tears of joy, even. And I don't appreciate a movie that tries to hijack my emotions. Eff you, movie version! I will stick with the book.