Going to Rajahs for Italian....*sigh*

We just wanted to meet Leigh Anna for lunch....for Sammi's 19th birthday...it should have been simple. 

Except I decided to take a shortcut. One that I have driven many times before...with ne'er a problem.  We were on Rt.23 and needed to get to the old Rajah's restaurant on Rt.60, where apparently a new Italian place had opened. No problem. 

Mom started the whole thing by confusing me. As we were coming out of Flatwoods, mom says "You know how to take that shortcut right?"

 I say, "I have no clue what you're talking about..it must have been dad."

Mom--"No it was you...I'm sure it was you..."

Me--"Mom, I would never try to take a shortcut out of Flatwoods, I would be wandering around here for days...Flat-Woods is the perfect name for it" (I know that doesn't make sense, but it is what I said)

Mom---"NOT in Flatwoods! You know, the shortcut you take behind the mall!"

Me---"Oh, yeah, of course I'm going that way..I'll cut over the hill here and past the Wal-mart, I wondered why you thought I could get out of Flatwoods and end up on 60"

......This little exchange should have been a clue to us that we should stay on the well known road....

 As I cut behind the Walmart on the hill (you all know which one I'm talking about) I confidently make a right...towards...you know...Rt. 60 is down that way somewhere.  As we near the apartments where Charles Manson once resided (it's true) I explain to mom that this is one of those short cuts that I can't think too much about as I'm driving it...or I will get confused...so, please don't talk about where I'm turning and stuff, ok? Seriously, mom, I will get confused. Mom interrupts me here to scream that she isn't the one bringing it up, I am.

Point taken. 

I shut up about it.

20 seconds later this is what mom says.

"Well foot. I caught a glimpse of my glasses and now all I'll see for the next hour is my glasses...I hate that! It's worse when you catch a glimpse of your nose..I hate seeing my nose for an hour...I better shut up or I'll start seeing my nose and my glasses..everybody hush about it!"

Sammi and I had not said a word during her spiel, we were too busy laughing.

I'm feeling pretty comfortable with my shortcut at this point because I see the railroad tracks where I must make the dangerous left hand turn....this is when Sammi see's the OCD Housecleaning sign which she and mom thinks is hilarious and clever.

I am coming upon Rose Hill School and feel a surge of panic. Do I turn left here or go straight?! Oh, crap. I'm thinking too much. There is a car behind me so I go straight. I don't say anything out loud..no sense in giving the passengers unnecessary worry...I keep going and realize the houses do not look familiar. I start getting that dizzy/twilight zone feeling that one gets when they are in unfamiliar territory. I just keep surging forward, filled with hope that some landmark will pop up.

The only thing that popped up was another set of railroad tracks. Hmmm... definitely not familiar. Now is the time to say something....

Me---"I think I may be turned around a little."

Sammi---"Arrghh"

Mom---"Turn into the BP Station and we will ask them which way to Rt. 60."

 I jerk the car into the station and mom says, "You go ask, you look younger."

What in the world does that have to do with anything??

I say that I don't want to go in and that we will just keep going straight...it has to take us to 60.

Mom and Sammi mumble something, but I ignore them...I am a woman on a mission.

I say, "I think maybe I should have turned left back there at Rose Hill."

By this point we have come upon a 4 way.

There is nothing more daunting than a 4 way when one is misplaced. 

We stay straight. Seems to have worked for us so far...hahahahaha

Now I'm starting to get that panic sweat...the kind that gets in that dip in your neck...I am burning slap up and am starting to be taunted by the passengers.

Mom and Sammi start putting their 2 cents worth in about the way they take the shortcut...(we found out later that we were discussing 3 different shortcuts but thought we were talking about the same one)

I am furiously looking at every business phone numbers posted on buildings...none of the 3 beginning digits look familiar...and they keep changing!

At one point mom thinks she may know where we are...then she see's a sign about Rt. 5. OH NO! I have heard of this "Rt. 5" if one finds themselves on Rt. 5 without proper directions one may as well be lost in Flatwoods..same scenario.

Mom has now taken to slapping her hands on the dashboard like a Jamaican drummer...and yelling turn around here! TURN HERE!! 

I start screaming that I can't turn in narrow driveways because it is against the law to back out onto a road. (Not sure if this is true, but...)

Sammi starts regretting her decision to accompany us and chimes in with mom about turning around. 

I instruct Sam to call Leigh Anna to tell her that we may be a tad late and find a place to turn around. 

Now, if one is lost, turning around and trying to make your way back to the place where you made your wrong turn is more confusing than getting lost in the first place.

We just need to find the BP station...if I can make it back to Rose Hill, then I can find my way to blessed blessed Rt.60.

We find the BP station...I'm a little unclear on what actually happened here...apparently I made the wrong turn AGAIN at this point.

BUT, it was a good wrong turn...we start seeing signs that say Summitt. Good. Summitt is right on 60! Oh my gosh, look! There is the prison! Crap, we have come to another 3 way. Do we go straight? Turn right toward the prison? Or left? A woman is staring at me so I go left. (I am often driven off course by other drivers either having the gall to drive behind me or to look at me)

Mom immediately bemoans the fact that I went left. Until she sees what she thinks is a school. She really does need new glasses, because I know times are bad but I don't know of any school that has rolled barb wire atop the fence around it. It is another portion of the prison. 

As we are making fun of mom about this, we see a stop light sign...joy of joys! 

A stop light means we are coming upon Rt. 60!

We came out right beside Crisps Ice Cream, to which Sammi says, "Oh, I've always wanted to eat here!"

 "NO!" we are going the Rajahs for Italian!!

We come to the stop light...mom ONCE AGAIN confuses me by saying ,"Shouldn't we turn left?" 

Well, now I have no confidence, so I think maybe she is right.

But, I'm not in the left lane, AND there is a truck behind me wanting to turn right...so I turn right, make a circle in the gas station parking lot (Sammi screams here, "LOOK, it's the Hulk Car!" ) Which is one of the stupidest things I have heard all day.

I get back to the light, directly behind the truck that was behind me before and make my left. As soon as I do mom realizes that she had in her head that we were going to JJ's to eat. Rajahs is indeed the other way. 

Arrggghh!!!

As I find a place to turn around Leigh Anna returns our call. We assure her that we are almost there, we got a mite lost, but give her our drink orders over the speaker phone. To which she became extremely confused but somehow got them right.

2 minutes later we pull in to Rajahs/Italian exactly one minute late. Sammi is now sick at her stomach and really doesn't feel like eating.

*sigh*

I'm telling you that I have driven that short cut many times...many times...I just don't understand what happened....
I have just been informed by mom that she appears to have been blamed for our getting off course today....I take full blame for missing my left hand turn by Rose Hill School...she did confuse me in Flatwoods ,but she states that I should have known that she meant the short cut behind the Mall. Well, I knew that by the end of the conversation...she is threatening to write a rebuttal.

Call the Fire Department!!!!!!!

We almost died. Yes We Did!.....I don't care what Casey says, I know we almost died. Which oddly enough makes for an awesome blog post. 
A few mornings ago I was washing laundry/dishes and such...as I walked into the kitchen, I smelled smoke..electrical smoke. I rush into the pantry area to turn off the washer and dryer (I immediately assumed that the dryer vent had become so clogged that the dryer finally retaliated.) Nope. Didn't appear to be the culprit. 
The smell is getting stronger so I do what is normal for me. I push canned goods out of the way with a sweep of my arm and start banging on the pantry wall (which is connected to our bedroom wall) and scream at Casey to come to the kitchen. 
By the time he has shuffled into the kitchen I have opened the basement door...to find that it is filled with smoke! So, I scream at him "The basement is on fire!" (He is 2 feet in front of me) To which Casey turns around and starts shuffling in the other direction...apparently one needs shoes to go into the basement area. As he is rummaging through his closet in the hallway, he is asking stupid questions like "Is there water in the basement?" What the crap?!  I answer sarcastically (to which he ignores, because he knows how I am when I'm scared) Then I start getting mad at him for taking so long...he has shoes on and appears to be selecting the perfect "our house is on fire t-shirt".  I yell something which makes him decide to go shirtless...but inquires about a flashlight.
I am now looking at him in disbelief....we are known for having a plethora of flashlights...none of which have working batteries. He knows this. Yet, it never stops him asking for one. 
Let the great flashlight hunt begin! I run to the living room, because in the recess of my mind, I remember seeing a little gray one sitting beside my baby picture. Aha! It is there! Oho...It is dead. I keep clicking to make sure...yep..still dead. Miracle of miracles, Casey hollers that he has found one that works...(I'm still holding the little gray one, and I'm pretty sure I put it right back where I found it...where it will sit until I need flashlight, to which I will grab it and click furiously...it's a vicious cycle)
Casey heads bravely down the basement stairs....I randomly shriek "Call the fire department!" 
He ignores me.
I decide it is time to evacuate. CJ isn't home, so I run to the girls' bedrooms...I bust through Sammi's door and tell her to get her stuff together because the basement is on fire. 
Sammi's immediate reaction?? She turns to me and screams, "Why?!!" 
I scream, "I don't know why Sam, it's just on fire!"
She screams,"What am I suppose to do with my cat?!"
I scream, "Take her with you!!" (I want to scream, Idiot, at the end of that sentence, but realized she was talking out of panic)
In the midst of this screaming match, Maggie slings her door open, turns pasty white and yells, "I'm scared!"
I instantly get angry. Yes, I know being scared is a normal reaction to a house fire...but Maggie yells this at least once a week. Every week. It's kind of losing it's flavor.  I tell her it's fine and just grab some stuff...
Now in the midst of all this I am occasionally sprinting to the kitchen to yell "Call 911" or "Call the Fire Department" into the smoke filled basement.
Casey never once responds.
He did take enough time to let me know that the water heater busted and the cords are melted together...he is going to turn the breaker off..
I'm still thinking that there are flames climbing the walls...and instruct him once again to call the fire department.
The electric goes off and the house goes deadly quiet.
Casey comes clomping up the steps and informs us that all is well. He has killed the water heater and must begin the search for a new one.
Sammi, Maggie and I all plop on the couch. We are exhausted. The past 10 minutes have been harrowing...we must start immediate therapy, which means we tell each other what we did during those scary moments.
Apparently, Sammi spent a good deal of the 10 minutes trying to shove her cat Amil into a blue duffel bag. Amil was not appreciative of this attempt to save her life. It is a lot harder to get a cat into a duffel bag than one would assume. I'm not sure what else she tried to save because we were hysterically laughing at this point.
Maggie had ran into the pantry and retrieved her teddy from the dryer, which she was still clutching tightly to her chest. She had also shoved a great many things into her purse...it was bulging. She confessed that she had thoughts about going back for her make-up bag. 
I had nothing. I had donned the first available jacket that I came across, but other than that, I was  empty handed. I realized that I hadn't even thought about grabbing pictures, or the hat box under my bed (filled with memories) I had just ran through the house screaming at people and clicking a dead flashlight. I was embarrassed to admit that one of the first things I thought was "NO, we just got  Dish TV working in everyone's rooms!" 
We may need to go over our "fire plan" again.  Somehow I always pictured  a fire happening in the middle of the night, which means we all climb out of our windows and meet at mom and dad's.
We never discussed what to do if we were wide awake...which apparently for this family is more dangerous than being dead asleep.

As we go our separate ways (into a now cold and quiet house) Sammi enters her bedroom and yells in frustration. I ask her what's wrong and she tells me that Amil is now sitting quite content inside the blue duffel bag that she fought so valiantly to avoid only moments before....*sigh* 


***I drew a horrible picture of Sammi trying to stuff Amil into the duffel bag...surprisingly, none of us took time to take an actual picture during the emergency.****

Mornin' Arlo!

Anyone that knows me, has heard stories about our dog Bana and our cats, Nikki, Stinky Butt Alex and Amil. Those are the indoor cats (well, not so much Stinky Butt anymore...He and Nikki are indoor/outdoor cats but Stinky Butt Alex has experienced some urination problems lately..sooooooo..)
My day typically begins by being awaken by Bana. Usually about 30 minutes before my alarm is set to go off. Once Bana sees that she has lured me out of my dream, by alternately barking then licking my eyebrow, the stop watch begins. I only have so much time  to stumble out of the bed, turn the existing alarm off, shuffle into the living room , get and attach her leash, slide my feet into whatever shoes happen to be beside the front door and if I'm lucky find a random jacket to don. If I don't get this done in a timely manner, Bana will squat and pee on the first available spot. In her defense, she does look apologetic...but doesn't take all the blame. It's like she is saying "We need to work on our routine".
 Most days we make it outside. As we exit through the front door, all urgency that Bana had to pee is instantly gone. Every morning the first thing she does is to run over to Max's doghouse on the porch. She pokes her nose inside and (from now on I will be making the animals talk, because it is what I hear in my head anyway) SO she pokes her head inside the doghouse, sniffs, wakes Max up then looks back at me and says, "He's here. Talking Yellow Cat is in there with him. Everything is fine, they should be out in a minute." I am then pulled off of the porch so Bana can find the perfect spot to pee and poo. Two different spots. It would be considered uncouth to use the same spot for both! Max has now stretched his 10 year old legs and joined us...he spends a few moments ruining every spot that Bana wants to pee on by moving directly to the spot that she is sniffing and hiking his leg. They do this EVERY morning. I encourage Bana to go pee pee; go poo poo...nicely at first...then with more urgency...eventually I have to holler at Max to stop following Bana around...pet Max, encourage Bana; ignore Talking Yellow Cat who is on the porch yelling "Food?! You'll be feeding me soon, right? I'm gonna go on around back...I'll meet you there...be on the back porch ledge as usual...Did you hear me?"  (Insert my first sigh of the day here)
Bana finally does her business so we head back to the house. Talking Yellow Cat has ran to the back porch  to inform the stray cats that breakfast will be served soon. Nikki has appeared and is waiting by the front door to be let in for the day. He is no nonsense and barely tolerates Bana. This doesn't stop Bana from bouncing around Nikki as I open the storm door barking "Mornin'! Can you believe it's dawn already? Whadja do last night?" (Usually at this point Nikki raises his paw in warning) Bana backs off with nonchalance..
As I open the front door, both Nikki and Bana push and shove to be the first through the door. Sometimes it gets more confusing because Alex is trying to make his way out of the door. Which always confuses me because he isn't allowed to spend the night inside of the house.We (everyone in the house) cannot figure out how he is getting in. No one admits to letting him in. We check windows to make sure he isn't slinking in through a 3 inch gap. He is just like Houdini. It's a little unsettling if I think about it too much...
So, Alex is slinking out whispering, "Don't look at me guys, no eye contact..stop sniffing me Bana! Great,now she see's me, thanks a lot loser." Alex out, Bana and Nikki in.
They both run straight into the kitchen, where Amil is waiting. She has heard the morning chaos and knows it's time for breakfast. Bana has her food bowl in the floor by the french door. I put the cat's food bowl on top of this desk-like piece of furniture in the kitchen so they can eat without Bana wolfing it down first.
I scoop a cup full of food and pour it into Bana's bowl...Nikki saunters over and starts eating delicate little feline bites. This pushes Bana over the edge. She stands beside Nikki and starts a barking frenzie, "Oh my gosh Nikki! You KNOW that is mine! It's mine! Mom...MOM! You're such a jerk Nikki...none of us like you...Arrrghhhh!!!"
By this time I have filled the cat bowl and Amil has jumped up to partake and enjoy the show below her. Now it is time for me to distract Bana...I do this by feeding the stray cats that are lined up outside the french door. This causes Bana to start her dance of delight. She LOVES to watch the stray cats eat.
I open the french door and the Tower of Babble begins. All of the stray cats start talking and running. Talking Yellow Cat is perched on the ledge beside the door. As I put my arm out to pour the food, he reaches out with his big fat paw and swipes at me...talking the whole time..."Took your sweet time gettin' back here didn't you tootse?" (I have never actually heard him say "tootse" but it sounds like something he would say)  Meanwhile Bana is screaming excitedly "Hey guys! Hey!! I would soooo come out and play with you all, but mom won't let me.."
Lately, something new has been happening during this ritual. Talking Yellow Cat's son, who my oldest named Arlo, has taken advantage of the chaos to slip inside while the other cat's are running around the porch. This is something new for Bana. She hops backwards and looks at me in disbelief. Her dreams have come true! She has an orphan to play with...
Nikki is ignoring Arlo, as he is just grateful that Bana has stopped screaming at him.
Amil is done nibbling and is sitting on the shelf above the cat food bowl.
I pick Arlo up and put him beside the food to which he attacks like he has never eaten (he does every morning, he just isn't use to having a bowl to himself)
Being Talking Yellow Cat's son, Arlo is very adept at talking and eating at the same time. Bana has jumped up onto the recliner behind Arlo and Amil is above him. Arlo takes a mouthful of food then starts regaling them with the life of a stray cat. They are enthralled. Amil has become hypnotized by Arlo's tail. She really really wants to touch that tail. Bana keeps jumping up and doing a quick sniff while Arlo's back is turned. Arlo takes a bite, says a word or two, then rubs his nose on Amil, then Bana. By this time Nikki has finished eating and is ignoring them all while bathing.

I was watching them this morning and decided to take a couple of shots with my phone camera for everyone to enjoy (and to prove that I wasn't making it up) By the time I put Arlo back out, my coffee has perked and Bana has perched on the back of the couch for a nap. Nikki is asleep on the living room recliner and Amil is running away from the fireplace (the fire kicked on as she was sitting on the hearth and scared the bejeebers out of her Bwahahahaha) Thus my day has begun....  ****The last pic is one of Nikki...this is his normal look of disdain***

Miniature Giraffes

Have you seen the commercial about the rich guy that owns a miniature giraffe? I loved this commercial; not for the product (of which I had no clue as to  what they were selling) but for the miniature giraffe that was briefly shown. I even dreamed one night that I owned one of these magnificent animals. My obsession is my defense for my gullibility.

I stumbled across a Russian website...the website was all about the breeding of these "petite lap" giraffes. The giraffe that had a cameo appearance  in the before mentioned commercial came from this farm! Her name is Ivanka. Oh the joy; the excitement! I, (if I had enough money) could own one of these awesome lap pets. Yes, one could sit with me on the couch, ON my lap, hence the name petite LAP giraffes. 

On the website, a live camera was set up so one could watch the petite giraffes in their environment,this proved that it was real! I saw one. Walking around and everything..( not much more than walking, but again, I was very excited.)

I hollered for Sammi to come join me in reading about these delightful animals. 

She immediately said..."Mom, that's not real"

To which I replied..."Yes it is! There is a camera, you can see them walking around!"

(insert snicker from snotty daughter)

She replied..."Your generation just doesn't understand how our generation can do things with computers" 

Me..."It gives the background on this Sammi...they have been bred in Russia for decades, apparently the great grandpa of the family actually performed with a circus, he stole one of the giraffes and ran away...the rest is history"

Sam..."Really mom?" (insert eye roll)
Me..."No listen! The males are called bulls and the females are cows."
Sam..."And that proves what?"
Me..."You just never want me to be happy."
Sam.."You will believe anything"
Me.."It says that they love taking bubble baths and listening to some kind of Russian opera"
Sam.."Oh my gosh, mom"
Me.."Well, I believe it...look how professional the website is!"
Sam..(silence, she has had enough of me)
Me.."OOh, look there's a button to inquire about buying them!"
Sam.."Ok, lets push it"...*she pushes the button*
A screen comes up that says something to the effect of "Congratulations you are the (insert randomly high number here) person to want a petite lap giraffe!"
Sam looks happily satisfied and I look crestfallen.
Stupid fake website. I was more upset that they weren't real than I was that I looked like a moron.

So, kudos to you Sokoblovsky Farm of Petite Lap Giraffes...you got me:)

If you can't take the heat....

We have 2 indoor cats and 1 indoor dog...My daughter, Sammi, has a female cat named Amil (shortened from the original name because too much time was spent saying "what is your cat's name again?")  The other indoor cat is male, so he has no part in this story..sorry Nikki:(  My dog, Bana, is also female.
A few months ago Bana went into heat for the first time. It was hard on all of us...namely me. I quickly discovered that I was going to have to put diapers on Bana if she continued to live inside with us...She was very confused and embarrassed by this, but as I explained to Bana, we women bear the weight of the world on our very narrow and sexy shoulders. She is no exception. She sniffed my breath when I finished my spiel, so I think she understood. So, on the diapers went. It was time consuming but we got through it.
Well...a few nights ago, out of the blue, Amil (the cat) started yowling. It sounded just like a baby screaming. It took us quite unaware and needless to say we were very concerned. What could be wrong with Amil? Is she angry at Sammi for being at work all day? Maybe she is being a rebellious teenage feline and wants to wander around outside? (Out of the question...she would either die of exposure or run straight to the AA Highway..she is not a "hardy" cat if you know what I mean)
This went on all night...I mean ALL night. Concern turned to annoyance...Sammi woke me up at 11:30pm yelling at Amil to hush. How did we finally figure out that Amil was in heat? When she started scooting on her front paws while sticking her rear end up in the air. She did this in addition to the yowling. Oh. My. Gosh.  This is more disturbing than having to put a diaper on Bana. Sammi was, rightly so, mortified. She would randomly yell, "Amil! Stop it. I did not raise you to be like that!"
Bana, meanwhile, became Amil's best friend..odd, because they normally despise each other. It seemed like Bana was trying to tell Amil that it was ok, that she, herself, had been through this and it would end soon. For some odd reason Bana was the only one in the house immune to Amil's yowls.
Night after night..4 or 5 nights (I lost count) we lost precious sleep. I felt bad for my kids as they left for school/work after a restless night probably filled with demon cat nightmares.
Daytime was also exhausting because we had to make sure Nikki didn't come running inside to sexually assault Amil. In short, our lives had been turned upside down for almost a week because a cat was in heat.

Last night, as I was lying in bed, I realized it was quiet...oh my, I think Amil is over her little spell. Relief washed over me...maybe we can all catch up on our sleep!
"Rustle, rustle, rustle...*sigh*" These sounds were made by Bana, who was on the bed with me...she had went into heat yesterday morning and was once again wearing a diaper. She looks pitiful and sighs a lot. **SIGH**  I shall be having all of the animals fixed before the next round of "heat" comes through....