Tag Archives: Lucy-Fur

Move Over Comfort… Bring On The Awkwardness and Anxiety!

Some of you may remember how I once waxed poetic about my ability to graciously navigate social waters.  BWAHAHAHAHAHA… that never happened.  Instead, I may have mentioned about 8 katrillion times of my penchant for awkwarding up a social situation with two hands tied behind my back.  It’s totes a gift and one that I wear with humiliation and cheese curds!

It turns out a new opportunity has presented itself for me to display my gift of awkward anxiety… cheese curds anyone?  The sweet people of Four Seasons Theatre Company (they who let me become the old olive tree in a production of “The Garden” two years ago) have once again thought of me for a role in their upcoming musical, Mary Poppins.  I wrestled with the decision of whether or not I’d want to audition for an actual role in a play that included scary things like costumes and makeup… and a solo about 3 keys higher than my vocal range of comfort… low and slow… bring it on!  High and die… wear your earplugs!  I had learned of the role about a month before the actual auditions and had made my mind up approximately 18 times that I was and then I wasn’t going to attempt it.  Three days before the audition, I made my mind up that I wasn’t going to do it and I was at peace with the decision.  But then my madre ran into a lady at church connected with the theatre company who told her they hoped I’d audition.  I somehow made it to the audition.  I really don’t think it was on my own two legs or right mind… it was like I was floating along in a trance of “spoon full of sugar” juice.  The audition didn’t go like I wanted it to… I was extra nervous and my high notes were strained and then I somehow messed up the words and stopped my own audition in the middle of it letting them know that they’d heard a plenty.  GREAT DIRECTION, WHITMEISTER!

They put the cast list up tonight:

I’d like to note that I’m coming full circle on my hatred of all things bird… being attacked by an angry turkey when I was 4, accosted by an angry owl, pooped on by a friendly magpie, and countless baby birds falling into my window well is about to go down.  Also, the resemblance is UNCANNY!

The song I sing, Feed the Birds is a lovely song about not judging a book by its cover… and probably a whole lotta other stuff that I haven’t discovered yet.  In other news, apparently I’m typecast at the age of 36 as “old”.  Old Olive Trees and Old Bird Women… I could probably sign up to join the AARP, considering!  Take some deep breaths in and out, Whit-Knee… time to step outta your comfort zone again.  Do it for the love of all things bird!  Thank you for the opportunity, ye’ sweet people of Four Seasons Theatre Company!

This view will never be the same.  This is a picture of the former Golden Toaster church.  Sayanora, historic church and view.  I once broke a pew by sitting on it in this church approximately 15 years ago when I weighed 530 pounds.  That’s probably why they tore it down.  😛

This is how Lucy-Fur sleeps.  It’s pretty freaky.  One eye wide open and snoring.  No one sleeps with their eyes open unless it’s a zombie.  Lucy… you got some ‘splainin’ to do!

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Fon-Don’t!

I sure do hope y’all had a spectacular holiday week… a few more days to go and then it’s basically January for the next 6 months.  BRING IT!  Except I am more fond of February than January, so can I just call the next 6 months February until it thaws out and turns into June?  Okay?  Good.

My cat, Lucy-Fur already has cabin fever.  She runs around like an insane asylum enrollee on a regular basis. She misses her usual jaunts outside where she becomes one with the coyotes… except the friendly coyotes… and instead annoys me for 7 straight months.  I just kicked her out to use the bathroom (what’s a litterbox?  I will not own one of those… so any cat living with me must learn to use the giant outdoor litterbox.), after she decided to try to climb the shower curtain while I was in the shower, but guarantee within 10 more minutes she’ll be in my window well begging me to open the door.  It’s 7 degrees out there right now… that’s a veritable heat wave!

Here’s the part of her day where she waits for me to get the laser out so she can chase a little red dot like a mad thing.  Anyone have a kitty-sized strait jacket I could borrow for all 6 months of February!?

Meanwhile… we have a tradition that we try to eat fondue on Christmas Eve every year.  This year we got a bit lazy, and instead of making actual fondue, we bought this stuff at Sam’s Club where you can stick it in the micro-oven for 30 seconds at a time and melt you some chocolate to dip fruit and other deliciousities in.  We totes messed it up this year… and by messed it up, I mean it turned into dog doo rather quickly.

Video proof… I mean… who wouldn’t want to come to dinner!?  Anyone?

I also tried to get a family Christmas picture in front of the Christmas tree but by the time these 2 approved the picture they were in (just one more… I look like a pasty snowman… just one more… my head looks like it’s possessed… just one more…) everyone lost interest and left and I only got the 2 pickiest participants!

It’s no wonder we never do family pictures… besides the reason I refuse to be in one… but that’s beside the point.

Happy New Year this week, friends.  Party it up… and enjoy your 6 Februaries!

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Et Tu, Pillows?

I’m having a major pillow issue lately… it’s like pillow-ocalypse, except less interesting… and less ocalypsy.  So, basically it’s nothing like an apocalypse and more like a boring rendition of Monopoly on a Sunday night… except I’ve yet to pass go and collect my $200.  Follow me?  Me neither!  What the heck is up with that anyway!?

Back when I weighed 530 pounds, I had sleep apnea.  For those of you not enlightened by this fabulous disease, it basically means I stopped breathing briefly several times throughout the night… most likely because fat blobules were blocking my airway when I was lying down.  So, I had to sleep with a loud obnoxious-sounding oxygen machine in my room, wearing a nasal cannula and I had to prop pillows up at the head of my bed so that I could sleep at an incline.  I got used to sleeping that way because I slept that way for YEARS… and eventually it got to the point that if I didn’t have my inclining pillows, I wasn’t sleeping.  Fast forward 200 pounds lost and now I no longer have sleep apnea and no longer sleep with an annoying oxygen machine the size of a small galaxy in my room… but I can’t give up the pillows.  I just cannot get comfortable if I’m not at an incline and if I lie down flat, I have this irrational fear that I may suffocate during the night.  Work with me here, Pee Wee!

I’m also a germ-a-phobe, so I buy new pillows every 6 months (they usually are flattened out by that time anyway), and then have to spend a few weeks conditioning these new pillows to be comfortable in my pillow fort of psycho.  My current batch of pillows ain’t cutting it and I wake up every morning with a massive crick in my neck and a sore back.  Not to mention the pillow cuss out session I have every morning.  Lame pillows who don’t know how to do their jobs!

After several weeks of cricking necks and cussing ornery mornings, I finally gave in and was on a mission to find some new pillows.  I found some yesterday and so far… I hate them.  It’s still too early to tell but these buggers refuse to conform… kind of like Madonna during her cone brassiere phase… except less nasty.  I refuse to give up.  I may try beating these newbies with a baseball bat, see if that gets their attention… and if not, there are a bunch of rocks outside I’m sure would be a step up.

Question of the Day:  Pillows… any recommendations?  Are you a back sleeper, side sleeper, etc.?

Welcomed winter today… in the middle of fall.  I’m planning on buying the weather system a calendar for its birthday.  I’ll be sure to mark the correct snow dates with red marker.

Meanwhile, if you want to find where Lucy-Fur is, you just have to know where the latest sun patch is.  She literally follows the patch of sun all day.  I wish I was a cat… taking up all the room in my sun patches!

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Amelia Bedelia’s In the House…

Who remembers those cute Amelia Bedelia children’s books?  The books about the unfortunate lady who happens to be a clutz and a disaster all rolled into one?  I think she might be my mother.  I had to get the genes from someone!  Tonight, within the space of 20 minutes, I managed to slice a chunk in my thumb whilst cutting onions with a crappy steak knife (useful instruments are my specialty); start a dried noodle that was sticking to the stove on fire; shake what I thought was a closed lid on a bottle of hot sauce which then squirted all over my neck, chin, and hair; and burn a sauteeing onion because I was too busy cleaning up my hot-sauced hair.  Twenty minutes… 52 disasters.  So, basically, the house almost burnt down, I smell like a burnt burrito joint, and I can see the bone in my thumb.  That right there is some TALENT with a capital all the letters!  When I’m done with all that, I think I might come to your house and help you collect some insurance money, yo!  Who’s first in line?

In unrelated news… yesterday, I wanted to make one last jaunt to my happy place to check out some fall leaves… turns out I was about 2 weeks late on the prettiest fall leaves, I guess the snow brought ’em down, instead I got to see some dead trees and trudge through mud, see snow, and brave the wind stinging my hands and nose at something like 35 degrees… with no coat… or socks… or shoes… or diamond-studded headband.  Fine… the socks and shoes were a lie, but the coat and diamond headband are totes the truth!  Eh well… better luck next year, chap.  I still got to see some beauty amidst the dead and cold.

 

The obligatory melting snow picture…

T

 

 

Meanwhile, Lucy-Fur sucks at hide-and-go-seek…

I hope this isn’t a reflection on my hide-and-go-seek skillz.  Seriously, Lucy-Fur!

 

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What the!?

Ever since I found those nastee white bacterial worms roaming around my grape tomato container on Friday evening I’ve been having nightmares.  Last night I dreamt I lived in a hut amidst a whole community of white bacterial wormy things and they were slowly and gradually eating away at my flesh and multiplying by the billions.  Thank you, Biology class for putting those numbers out there into my head space.  I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure girl-with-a-stick-up-her-patookus-about-all-things-germs is probably the last person in the world who needs to see that.  Needless to say, despite my major grape tomato addiction, I have been cured… at least for now.  I’m sure eventually I’ll buck up and go back to eating a Sam’s Club container a week… the things are tastee on everything!  But, in the meantime, I’m going to leave that super food behind… maybe I’ll just move onto red peanut butter M&Ms.  Totally a fair calorizing trade off.  Plus, pretty sure you can eat peanut butter M&Ms with EVERYTHING!!  😛

Nextly… my Earth Science teacher, who I’m certain is a knock off on Bill Nye the Science Guy, has these mandatory “challenge projects” that he throws at us every 2 weeks.  They’re called “challenge” projects because they are meant to be a “challenge.”  I’m all like, “Eh… no big deal… as long as I read the textbook and listen to all the lectures, I should be able to ace that sucker, right!?”  WRONG!!!  I got my hands on the first challenge project this past week and if he wasn’t writing/speaking in Swahili, I’ll eat my head.  This is an INTRODUCTION to Earth Science.  I’m not a geologist.  I’m not a mathmetician.  I’m here to take this required class to learn about the Scientifical Earth… and maybe a little bit about martians.  Here’s the formula I was expected to solve to figure out via lead/uranium dating how old a rock is:

SOLVE FOR T!!!!   Oh… okay.  Easy… take the square root of shove it multiply by who gives a crap and then subtract flunked out of Calculus in high school and you should get your answer for T, which flew over my aqua-netted bangs in the 90s!  He actually said the following in the instructions:  Introductory Science textbooks do not talk about uranium-lead dating because it is so complex.  But you are a USU college student, and I think you can solve this problem.  Oh okay… well, you totes underestimated I would be in your class… aqua-netted bangs and all!

So, I attempted to solve it by myself.  For a week, I scoured the Internet for articles on uranium-lead dating, read every single one of them… watched every single YouTube video on the subject… emailed my professor 4 times… his replies back to me were still all in Swahili and he didn’t give me the answer, which I straight up asked for in the 4th email.  I even had one fellow student dude from my class email me asking if I could help HIM out.  Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha…  I found that pretty comical.

So, I gave up, but Saturday my genius 17-year-old nephew Christian, and his genius friend, Matt were coming up, and so I twisted their arms to help me out… which they did in the space of a few hours.  Smartie pants anyway!  Now I owe them a new car or some such nonsense.  😛  Some people who are 34 might feel pathetic having a couple of brilliant 17-year-olds help them out of a jam… but not me.  Next up, I’m going to the kindergarten class and pick me out a tutor!

Meanwhile, update on the progress of the dreaded flooded room:

These are the industrial fans rying out the pavement.  I thought it was important to have the “Sorry” game in the window.  I needed to apologize.   Lucy-Fur is loving having new hiding places to burrow her head into.  The other day, I discovered her “hiding” amidst the box spring mattress and bedding.

Don’t get too comfie, Lucy-Fur.  It ain’t gonna last!

 

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Lucy’s Paw…

Lucy showed up one morning last week limping like she done suffered a gunshot wound in a knife fight.  When I got to inspecting things, her whole front foot/paw was swollen to the size of a golf ball and she was having a hard time putting any sort of weight on it.  Of course I was annoyed.  I don’t have money to pay a vet bill right now… are you serious, Lucita Burrita!?  Plus, the vet down the street charges like 8000000000 dollars just to open the front door.  Believe me.  Last time I got peed on by a dog in the waiting room and they still charged me.  No discounts for the dog repellers!

I decided I’d give it a day to see if it would magically deliciously fix itself.  If you have a kid, you don’t take him/her to the doctor the first time he/she coughs… good grief!  Or maybe you do and I just had a risky childhood.  The time I broke my wrist whilst skiing at the age of 14, my folks still didn’t take me to the ER even after my wrist swelled up to the size of my giganta-head and was the color of a smooshed up grape vineyard.  Shake it off, Whitney… shake it off!  They also made me carry my own skis and poles down the mountain the rest of the way.  Who hates deductibles!?

Later that night it was worse… much bigger and uglier and nastier and she hadn’t eaten anything all day or drank anything either.  Very uncharacteristic for her to spend a whole day laying around the house.  She loves to frolic.  I’d made up my mind that night that the next morning I’d take her into the vet… wearing galoshes this time… because seriously peeing animals!  Behave!

But, by the next morning some of the swelling had gone down, so I held off for another day… 3 days later it looks back to normal.  I don’t know what went down… maybe she has a mysterious peanut allergy and/or she’s allergic to Madre and her mad face.  That’s the only face she knows from Madre!  Admit it!

Question of the Day:  Happy Weekend Friends!  Any big weekend plans? 

 

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Beulah the Busted Buick…

Beulah the Buick had her annual safety inspection recently.  She always has something wrong with her.  She’s old.  This year I thought I got pretty lucky when they told me that I needed to replace my windshield wipers and change the serpentine belt.  Heck if I know what a serpentine belt is… sounds like a snake of some kind.  If I have snakes in my car, I’ll walk thank you very much!  To save money, my dad was kind enough to avoid shop repair costs and switch them out for me.  That resulted in a bustation of another part on the car, so Beulah sat in the driveway DOA for a week until we could get them to tow it up to the shop.  Moral of the story:  WALK!

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Lucy-Fur has been at it again… She and Madre could go toe-to-toe if Lucy weighed more than 6 ounces.

I’ve totally upped my reprimanding skillz.  As witnessed by the following video, she is eager to obey… and Madre was none too happy to have to come in from 3 rooms over and remove her butt from the chair at the end of the video!

Poor, poor Lucy-Fur!  She gets no respect up in this joint!

Question of the Day:  What kind of a car do you drive?  What year?

 

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