Harry Potter and the Annoying Girl's Buttcrack

Tomorrow is Harry Potter day (yes, I realize that it has been out for over 24 hours but so what!? I am too old and tired to see it on a work night). So what is the fascination? Why am I so excited to see this darn movie? I know how it is going to end - I've read the book twice.

I am very much looking forward to spending the evening with my friends Zennie, Zobyn, Zon, Ziz, and Zippy (dang. How is it possible that I know so many people with "Z" names?) and eating popcorn (no butter, please).

Today was the best day at work ever. Big, the annoying girl, was gone! Who cares that several of my installs when to crap and I got yelled at by the DLPM from Toys in Texas (whatevs Rich, you are still my main LP man)? Big was gone. I could hear myself think. I saw no boobs or buttcracks. And, when I was on the phone, I could hear the person I was talking to. It was awesome!!!!!

Wedding Weekend

Little Ditty married Poonch II this weekend. I have a brother! I've always wanted a brother. We started the weekend with a surprise bachlorette party for Little Ditty on Thursday night. 19 of her closests friends, relatives, and neighbors attended a Saints game. Our seats were literally on the field.

After the game we spent the night at my parents house (my bff from Kansas and a bunch of Ditty's Indiana friends). Friday morning we got up for nail fun (I got a French pedicure - my feet look fantastic) and ate lunch at a little cafe.

The rehearsal went well, despite Ditty's refusal to kiss her husband-to-be after the pastor told her to. The pastor told her they needed to work on their kissing before the wedding. That made me laugh, a lot. I heard the rehearsal dinner food was excellent. Seeing as how I don't eat pork, I had broccoli, carrots, and a sundae for supper.

Saturday morning, I had to be up at butt-crack to have my hair done. My hair looked fantastic, but it was done 6 hours before the wedding. Not a lot of fun, but it held well. We went to the church to get ready and take pictures. The ceremony was disappointingly dry eyed. Judging by the state of the groom the night before we figured we would all be crying. Poonch II is a sensative guy, but both him and Ditty made it through without crying. And my little cowboy made an adorable ringbearer.

Their reception was at a country club. The food was excellent. After dinner we shook our groove thing all night. The challenge of the evening was to polish of the 16 gallon keg my father had invested in. We were successful.

After several glass of beer, we were the greatest dancers ever. We invented such dances as the shopping cart, the walker, and lawn mower. Our dancing kept the band entertained for hours.

Harvard Josh is Missing

Our friend, Harvard Josh, came to stay with us for a couple days (guess where he goes to school...you'll never guess). It is safe to say that Baba has a new best friend. Harvard Josh left yesterday. This morning, when Baba went downstairs, he said, "Where are you Harvard Josh?"

I said, "He went back to Harvard."

Baba didn't believe me but continued to search the house for Harvard Josh. Finally, after several minutes of searching, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Harvard Josh gone."

When Zippy brought Baba home after work today the search for Harvard Josh continued to no avail. Man, that Harvard Josh can hide! Must be the Harvard education.

Harry Buffalo

Last night my friend and I went to the Harry Buffalo Bar (I kept thinking, buffalo chips on the prairie, mighty tasty and mighty hairy). Zeagan estimated the average age in the bar to be 25 (my age!). We stayed long enough to have a drink and some apps. When we left, she said, "I'm not that age any more."

I said, "I never was that age."

And I really wasn't. I have never really enjoyed sitting in a smokey bar with music so loud it makes my head pound (I did love playing trivia at BWs, however). Sure, I like to have fun, but I prefer a small intimate party rather than a huge gathering of people I only half know. And, the thought of drinking to the point of loss of control in public makes me sick.

But still. I do love Cleveland and being in Cleveland again. I just miss my boys.

Today I go pick up Ziz and Zicah. I'm fairly confident that this is going to work. She didn't change the dynamic of our little house while she was staying with us for the two weeks and I really hope this ends up being a very positive change for her.

Life

Ahh, Cleveland. Why is it that everyone who lives here hates the city? I love Cleveland. I love the old houses, the fantastic neighborhoods and restaurants, the skyline, the city, the weather, and my friends. Yeah, Cleveland rocks.

I am very jealous of my friend's new apartments. It is the top story of a beautiful old house with built-ins and a sunroom. It is the apartment that I always pictured living in.

We stayed up way to late last night, drink too many cosmos (pre-mixed - after our margie episode no one lets me mix drinks any more), and talked about where we were in our lives compared to where we thought we would/should be and how to reconcile that.

My friend mentioned how I am so different than she is. Most of my friends say that. The truth is, I don't think I am like anyone. I see bits of myself in relatives, but I can't look at myself and say, "I am so much like ..........." because I am like no one. I've always wondered why people want to be my friend. I am very cold until I get to know people, but once I befriend someone, I will do anything they need (including, but not limited to driving to Cleveland to pick someone up because they need help).

Did I picture that I would be living in Minnesota at 25 with a 2 year old son and little to no desire to have more babies? No. I always thought that I would want many children and I would stay home with said children. I don't know if I want to stay home with future children, I just want the option to do so. I certainly didn't picture working for a security company or living out in the country - I like the city.

For the most part, I am very happy with my place in life. I have a wonderful, fantasic, super-terrific husband, a great son whom I love with all my heart, a job I don't hate (huge!), and I am okay with where I am at. Life is so much better than it was a year ago. Note to self: next time I have PPD, take the drugs.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today I received from Miss ZennieZou the best birthday present ever!!! A few weeks ago we were talking about getting an imaginary cat for Zennie's daughter and I mentioned if I had an imaginary cat I would name it Sigmund. Zennie made my dream of owning an imaginary kitten named Sigmund come true!

ZennieZou made me an imaginary cat kit, complete with facilities, bed, and food. I even got an adoption certificate, with a chocolate gold seal and two gift cards, which Zennie wrote (in permanent marker) "My name is ZarahZou and I own an imaginary cat!" I love it! Thank you ZennieZou, you are the best friend a girl could have. And a big thanks to my husband who bought me purple flowers (I hope my imaginary cat doesn't eat my flowers).

Why Doesn't Wili Like Me?

Wili is Baba' s best friend. I mean, BESTEST BEST BEST BEST friend. The first thing when he wakes up in the morning and is freed from his cell he starts his quest for 'ili'. Much to a certain cat's delight the quest is not ended until she gets her good morning kiss and Baba gets his good morning mouthful of fur.

So why doesn't Wili return Baba' s love with the same gusto?

I don't know.

They both love climbing the cat tree and looking out the window. They both love curling up on a warm lap.


They both love the cat tent, although Wili tends to sit in the cat tent and Baba tends to wear the cat tent as a hat.

They both like decorating cookies and eating frosting (yes, my cat eats frosting. Never open a box of Nerds around my cat, a friend of mine learned that the hard way when Wili nearly took her hand off to get some of the Nerds she was eating).

And, sadly, it isn't just Wili who runs away when Baba toddles in her direction. It's most 'ili's (Baba's word for cat). It's really quite sad when you think about it. All Baba wants to do is kiss them. What could a small, defenseless cat have to fear in Baba?