Coney McConerton :)

In this post ,https://theprozacqueen.wordpress.com/2009/11/03/117/  I said I couldn’t get Haley to pose by herself because she was too camera-shy. Well, it took a while, but I’ve gotten her to sit for a few…or, made her, or something…anyway-

Introducing Coney McConerton!

 

If she looks pissed, that’s because she is. She has to wear that cone because her food allergies (soy, dairy, egg, rice…in other words, every cat food ever made) make her itch so bad she can’t stop chewing at herself if left alone. She’s doing a lot better than before-she takes pills now rather than allergy shots-, but she’ll probably always have problems in the spring and fall. It doesn’t matter that she is indoor-only; the pollen and some grasses around here bother her skin, and all you have to do is open a window. After years of having to buy her special food, we’ve managed to find an over-the-counter food (9 Lives Plus Care) that doesn’t have her allergens that the other cats can have too. It helps with Slater’s (the grey-and-white boy’s) urinary issues too.

She’s a sweet girl, though, and very popular at the vet’s office. If she were human, she’d be the prom queen.

She’s also *smart*-she figured out how to take off her cone within about five minutes of being put in “her room” to be fed and “pilled”, as well as how to hide a pill in her mouth and spit it out when I’m not looking. I think she once even *hid* her cone too-or at least that’s what I thought when I found it under the dining-room table, a place she wouldn’t have been able to get to if she’d been wearing it.

Anyway, I just thought I’d share. Enjoy!

 

Rap song, by request

Like I mentioned in another post, I once wrote a rap song for a guy. Another blogger, Safe.Amanda, suggested that I post it here so everyone can laugh at my lack of rhythm (okay, I made up that last part). Gotta give the people what they want, right?

For the record, I know how bad this is. I did it that way on purpose, but I really do suck at this kind of thing. The “recipient” (“inspiration”?) has never heard it-at least, not from me-and hopefully has no idea it exists. Anyway, here goes-

Hey you, over there

You know you’re lookin’ mighty fine

With those big green eyes

And that really great behind

 

You know, I’d like to date ya

‘Cause you’re really outta sight

And I’m tellin’ ya now

I won’t go down without a fight

 

But you keep puttin’ me off

Won’t give me the time of day

And to you boy, this is all I gotta say

 

(refrain)

What’s up with you?

What’s goin’ on in your mind

What’s up with you?

You know I’d like to take the time

To get to know ya boy, how ’bout givin’ me a sign?

So what’s up with you

Don’t make wantin’ you a crime

 

Tell me, what’s goin’ on in the back of your mind

I think together, we’d have a real good time

We can wine and dine, and dance ’till dawn

And mow our names into the neighbors’ lawn

 

(I don’t remember these two lines)

What I’m tryin’ to say is, I want you bad

And I know I can’t rhyme, so just cut me some slack

 

(refrain)

That’s it. Now that I’ve posted it, I’m expecting Dr. Dre to call me any minute. 🙂 I don’t know if there’s a “comically bad” subset in the rap industry but, if there is, I’m on well on my way to stardom. A girl can dream.

See you on the flip side…

 

The Men of ‘Project Runway’

(Disclaimer-Neither The Prozac Queen nor her ‘subjects’ are to be held responsible for any asthma attacks suffered/deadly sins committed/computer keyboards damaged that result from reading this post. Drool at your own risk.)

I’m publishing this again because I’ve found yet another reason to love Mr. October

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while now, but I didn’t know if it would be weird for me to write about a TV show without having a purpose other than for my own entertainment. I’m not sure why, but the phrases ‘creepy stalker’ and ‘desperately needs a life‘ come to mind.:) I love to read reviews online, but most of those appear in ‘zines’ with people whose jobs are to watch TV and comment on it. In other words, people who get paid to do what I do for free. 🙂 I’ve now read other people’s ‘personal reviews’ and I figured, what the heck. It’s not like anything I say will (or should) be taken seriously. So, here goes.

Despite the fact that I have about as much fashion sense as a turnip, I love watching Project Runway. If you’ve never seen it, it’s a reality show on Lifetime where a group of fashion designers complete weekly challenges for a chance to show at Fashion Week and all kinds of other awesome prizes. I especially like the ‘Unconventional Challenges’ where they make dresses out of corn husks and stuff they found in a pet store! There’s also the one where they had to talk people out of their clothes (hmm, shouldn’t we at least wait until the third date for that?) to use in their projects. I haven’t seen every season, but that’s what the internet is for. So you know what I’m talking about, here’s a link to the show’s site–http://www.mylifetime.com/shows/project-runway
There’s also the ‘All Stars’ show where they bring back designers from previous seasons to compete all over again. http://www.mylifetime.com/shows/project-runway-all-stars

Heidi Klum is the host…she’s pretty nice, but I love Tim Gunn, who serves as a sort of ‘mentor’ to the designers. He’s so classy-he has a way of telling it like it is without making you feel like a squashed bug. He would be so much fun to hang out with but, seeing as I’m a nobody, that’s about as likely to happen as my cats are to follow instructions. In other words, never. Oh well.

Like most other reality shows, half of the draw is the level of attractiveness of the contestants. However, since Lifetime caters to women, any and all ‘eye candy’ I notice is of the male variety. Finally, something just for us!

Now, some of you are probably asking, “Wait a sec…aren’t all these guys gay?” My answer to that is, “And? Your point is?” I don’t know, and I don’t care. Gay, straight, bi, tri…it doesn’t matter. Hotness is hotness. It doesn’t matter anyway; the closest any of us will probably get to them is licking the computer screen.* Oh, well.  In that vein, I’ve come up with the Project Runway Swimsuit Calendar. Well, not really, but here are my ‘nominees’, in no particular order.

Six years

I know this will probably sound sickeningly sweet to a lot of people, but oh well. It’s my and my husband’s sixth anniversary on Saturday.

Six years since we had the reception in a room that looked like a 50’s diner. It had working jukeboxes and everything.

Six years since our friends ‘decorated’ our car to tell everyone we were ‘Future Porn Stars’.

Six years since we drove through the car wash four times to remove all the ‘decoration’, and still didn’t get it all off. I think there was still a bit of red stuff on the wipers when I totaled that car ten months later. 🙂

Six years since my sister called up our hotel room around 9pm the wedding night just to annoy us, because she said ‘we did that to her on her wedding night’.

Six years since we had our bridesmaids’ lunch at Taco Bell.

Six years since I danced with my uncle, which was sadly the last time I danced with him before he died.

And before that was the planning…

Six years since I felt like throwing something wet and squishy at my friend P because she kept bugging me about stupid things like what color all of the food was going to be or why my stepmother was serving alcohol outside the party room. I’d previously not wanted alcohol but decided that I didn’t care.

Six years since I went into such a stress-induced fit during the planning that I went off on P. I apologized the next day.

Six years since I holed myself up in my room for a whole weekend because I was so worried about what everyone would think about all the little ‘frou-frou’ stuff I was *supposed* to do and have.

Six years since I decided that I didn’t give a shit whether the food at the reception didn’t match the room, what my bridesmaids did with their hair or whether or not Amanda’s tattoos were showing.

Six years since I decided that this day was about me and my husband and not how good of a party the director could throw, whether the tablecloths were straight or who signed the guestbook.

Six years since I said ‘I do’, and I still do. So does he.

Hopefully we’ll have six more years of this…or sixty.

Weird things happen when I get bored

I was in a weird mood this afternoon (but then, when am I not?) when I found another way to waste my time.

On one online message board, a lady was upset about something she’s dealing with in her life. I said that I would give her a hug but, since she’s in New Zealand and I’m in Atlanta, it would have to be a ‘virtual’ hug. Then I thought, exactly how far away from her am I? So I plugged it into the True Knowledge add-on to my Safari browser, and it came up with this site:

www.timeanddate.com/

Basically you can tell things like what time it is in another part of the world, how far apart two places are, what day it will be at a certain point in the future, etc. It turns out that I am approximately 8101 miles away from my friend in New Zealand. That’s a pretty long distance for a hug! Then I just started getting stupid and plugged in a bunch of other places. It turns out that I am about 7857 miles away from Guam, where I was born. I don’t remember it since we left when I was a baby, but such is life for a Navy brat. I’m also 4218 miles from London, 4383 miles from Paris and 5342 miles from Ouagadougou. Don’t feel bad; I can’t pronounce it either. 🙂