My Sugar Cat
	I have a 10 year old black cat, Rishi, who has been a best friend of mine for awhile. I paid $18 for him when I was a poor college student (I got a discount with my student ID). He was just a kitten then. He went with me from

apartment to aparment, and finally we ended up in a house. We went through a lot together. Last fall he lost several pounds, and upon visiting the vet, we found out that he was diabetic. We've been giving him shots twice a day ever since. Before the shots, he was very lethargic. He just stayed under the dining room table when he wasn't drinking water or eating. He ate TONS of food and never got full yet he continued to lose weight. I thought that poking my cat with a needle twice a day would be hard to do, but I got used to it. After we started the shots, I heard him playing and running upstairs. That was such a good feeling! He's been back to his normal, crazy self since the insulin became a part of his daily routine. He is such a smart kitty. He takes his shots with no complaint and even reminds us sometimes when it's overdue. I think he knows that it makes him feel better. I hope he will be with me for many years to come.

Candy That's Good For You

Hi-C Gummy Fruits are good.

Open for Business

Welcome to my blog. I have posted two old entries from my previous blog, which was dumped today in favor of a more user friendly URL. I hope to keep this one updated.

Here is a little background, just so you know where I'm coming from...
I'm a 30 something (barely) female web developer from Indiana. I have a BA in Psychology, though like most Gen Xers, I am not using my degree for my job. I am married. We have 2 cats, a rabbit, and some fish. I'm a libra. Ok, I guess that's all you need to know.

The Incredible Shrinking Ideal

When will the fashion industry come back to Earth and start designing clothes for normal women? It is true that I have grown outward a bit over the years, but I am certain that clothes have gotten smaller. It is not fair that I am an average sized woman, but I open a fashion magazine to see the thinnest 1% of society represented. I might see an outfit I like, but I have to wonder, does it come in a size 12?

Recently I read an article that said sizes 12 and above are considered "plus sizes". Historically, plus sizes have been 16 - 26. If 12 is now a plus size, that means about 80% of women are now wearing plus size clothing and are considered over weight. Most women I know do not want to shop in the plus size section of a store. Come on, we already have self esteem issues. Now we have to be labeled as "plus size"? If the fashion moguls were smart, they would follow my advice: broaden the range of average sizes to include 16 and 18. That way more average size women would fit into the average size clothing. They might just sell more clothes that way.

I realized another shopping annoyance the day I couldn't fit into "junior" clothing anymore. They don't make "cool" clothes for average size women. The fashion powers that be must think that as soon as we develop hips we don't want to dress fashionably anymore. Just pick up a typical department store catalog and flip through the sale items. Juniors get jean shorts, boot cut pants, and form fitting shirts, while the "Misses", a.k.a. normal size women, get cotton coulots and polo shirts. Excuse me if I'd rather go to a concert in my boot cut jeans than stand around on a golf course in my polo shirt.

Of course, I couldn't complain about fashion without mentioning shoes. Since when are women's feet shaped like triangles? I cannot possibly cram my toes into some of the pointy shoes I see for sale. Not only do they expect us to cram our bodies into small clothes, but they also expect our feet to squeeze into narrow shoes. Maybe that's what panty hose are actually designated for... to constrict our feet to the size of little elf feet for our pointy elf shoes. Those will look really good with the polo shirt and white, cotton, pleated front pants when we're teeing up. Atleast we have Dr. Marten, who combines fashion and comfort.

Happy shopping, ladies...

Assalted and Buttered

My poor friend. She decided to catch a flick one afternoon, and arrived with plenty of time to find a decent seat in the theatre. After the movie had already started, a kind gentleman approached her…
”Can you move down?” he asked, with sincere politeness (note the “I’m sorry to bother you” and “please” sentiments).
“Ok, I’ll move because you couldn’t get here on time.” She replied.

She gathered her belongings and proceeded to move over one seat.

The kind gentleman (sporting a mullet, I might add) then proceeded to dump his large tub of butter-soaked popcorn on her and smash the cardboard tub onto her head. Shocked and perhaps a bit shaken, she ran out to the lobby to report this monstrous act to the nearest pimple-faced attendant.

She found a manager and described the incident. The kind gentleman, his wife (girlfriend?), and son (illegitimate?) followed her out of the theatre. The lovely lady then threw a punch at my friend and hit her in the eye.

The respectable family then proceeded to quickly leave the theatre. The manager, after just witnessing a buttery customer get nailed in the face, refused to call the police, but instead offered her a refund of her 50 cent admission price. Yes, 50 cents will make it all better, sir.

My friend, to this day, cannot watch “Kate and Leopold” without thinking about being “assalted and buttered”.