Ahhh…NJ. How I love thee. Let me count yet another way:
There’s snow on the ground. It’s supposed to be in the 70′s today. It’s really lovely.
Have I recently mentioned how much I don’t miss living here?
But, let’s go back to NC for a moment. Back to Saturday.
We woke up and went downstairs for a leisurely breakfast. A lovely day had dawned. The sun was out, it was warm and there was an angry cat stuck in a wire mesh trap just outside our dining room windows.
When JewelrySlut sat down, she jumped because, sitting there just outside the window behind her, was this massive black and white cat. Now, I’d been told by Animal Control that they didn’t work weekends so I should being in the traps on Friday nights. Well, I didn’t and we had caught us a cat. I figured I’d call one of the local shelters, gather the cat, trap and all, into my car and go drop it off.
Once the shelters opened, I went to work.
The trap is probably about 3-4 feet long and maybe a foot tall. It’s made of wire mesh. The end opens and there’s a spring-loaded trap door. The cat steps on a lever placed in the middle of the cage and the door slams shut.
I gathered up our cat carriers and a large blanket to put in my car. I didn’t know if Mr. Cat would get sick and shit all over, so I wanted my seats protected. I went outside to gather my catch. I grabbed the little handles and nearly got mauled. The cat sprang to life, snarling and hissing, claws flying and generally being unhappy. JewelrySlut, of course, was in the doorway laughing her ass off. I told her, again, that she should have the camera out because this was bound to be amusing. Also, when the cat started moving, it released a horrid stench. I don’t know if it shat itself or it just smelled like a dirty cat. Either way, it was putrid.
So, now I had a cat that needed moving to my car. The cat was mad. I tried to grab the cage and kinda tip it on end. I figured the cat could be all at the end of the cage and be as far from me as possible. I tipped up the cage and the cat took flight. It was all over the place, again with the clawing and the hissing. WHAM! I dropped it to the ground. JewelrySlut…still laughing. Not giving up, I grabbed the cage at one end, near the trap door thing. There’s an overhang of maybe 6-8 inches between the end of the cage and the interior. I figured this was safe because there was no way the cat could reach me. I grabbed it and the cat took off again, this time using telescoping legs to claw at me. I shrieked and dropped the cage.
By now, the cat had won. I called the number on the cage and told whoever it was who answered that I had an extremely angry cat in my yard and I needed it picked up. We left it there in the front yard and went about our day.
Since it was warm out, the rest of our day involved throwing out a bunch of crap from the clubhouse and going up to Falls Lake to sit in the sun. The lake was nice. One of Shmuppie’s classmates was there so they played in the water…the cold water. But, when you’re 4, you have no internal thermostat. We got some sun and had a good time.
Sunday was mostly painless. My father was at the house by 8:30 because we had a fantasy baseball draft to do. Not an overly religious group apparently. I think our team stinks. I have another draft tonight and that team will also likely stink.
And now I’m here.
Riddle me this:
I get on the plane yesterday morning. We were on a small plane, there’s a single row of seats down the left side, an aisle, and a double row on the right. One can assume that Continental Airlines uses the English language to assign seat numbers, right? So, if I have seat B, don’t I have to be on the aisle of the 2-seat side? If A is the solo seat, B is across from it. If A is the window on the double side, B must be next to it, right? No matter how you cut it, B has to be the aisle seat of the double row.
I get on the plane, and head for 5B. There’s a doofy-looking guy sitting in it. I look at him, look at the rows, look at him and ask “Do you have 5B?” He looked at me like I was speaking Urdu.
“I have 5C. Is that the aisle?”
“No, 5C is the window. I don’t care where I sit, but I either need you to move to the window seat or to move so I can sit down”
He moved to the window. And proceeded to sit with his legs all in my space. He had on ugly pants too. I hated him.
I love flying.