HELL froze over...the long night

Sasquatch and I were bound and determined to make the best of our unfortunate situation. There's no one better in an emergency than Sas...first, there's her unflagging good humor. She sees the best in everything. She can do nothing else, being a dog. That's another one of those good things about dogs...always looking on the bright side. Then, there's her dedication to duty. Instinct told her that the house and I needed special protection during this winter event, and so she took up her post on the deck and spent a large portion of the day guarding against looters and thugs. Someone suggested she looks stalwart here and I must agree....thanks B., terrific word "stalwart."

It wasn't so bad during the daylight hours. Oh, it was dull...no distractions...just empty hours filled with useless thoughts. Well, that was me...I'm sure Sas was busily working out solutions to all kinds of pressing concerns. Then the sun went down...It was still pretty warm in the house and I had bought a fake log at the grocery so we had a small fire. But the light it made was insufficient for reading and of course, no DVDs, no Hipkens or even Cole Porter. So, I made up a bed on the couch to be closer to my loved ones and the fire, dim as it was, and settled in for the night. Well, I wasn't especially sleepy, but I sure was bored, so thought insomnia wouldn't be a problem. And it wasn't...for awhile. I had covered up Paul Varjak's (Paul is a parakeet. No, he's not really mine, but it's a long story.) cage with a blanket and set him as close to the fire as possible, but sometime in the night, I woke up and thought, "Wow, it sure is cold in here. I hope Pauly doesn't freeze." But I really didn't care that much (Which reminds me of that incomparable song, The Cat Got Dead by Heywood Banks, who's no H.H. but pretty good) and so went back to sleep...until 2:14 am, when I heard a beep. I thought (hoped) I might be imagining it, but no, there it went again...beep. Beep...beep...beep. But it wasn't very loud and I knew it was a smoke detector wanting me to get in the car and find an all-night grocery, buy a battery, and install it. Well, no, I had no intention of doing that. So, once again, I went back to sleep...until 4:30 am, when an unholy screeching commenced and I was knocked from the couch. The smoke detectors had gone into full-blown panic mode. When I determined that I had not actually suffered a heart attack, I made my way in the dark and the cold through the house, disabling smoke detectors all over. I knew there was no fire...it was too freakin' cold and dark in there for the house to be burning down. Besides, Sas hardly even stirred, so I knew all was well.

There was no going back to sleep...I was afraid if I did, I'd freeze to death and not be found until Spring. I discovered that, if you have had the foresight to purchase a gas stove, you can light the burners with a match, despite the electronic ignition device. So, that's what I did and boiled water to pour through the Mr Coffee. And voila! hot delicious coffee was mine! Of course, it didn't stay hot long and I was forced to reheat it on the stove so after that first cup, it wasn't very good, but it was warm, which is more than I can say for my environment. However, if you have had the foresight to purchase a gas water heater, a hot shower is possible. Thus fortified, I decided to go to the office, and while stuck in traffic took this photo...

--Ina

HELL froze over!..no, really!

Sasquatch and I have been through an ordeal.......one for the ages. The ice happened and then the electricity went away, and with it, the lights, the heat, the oven, the CD-player (and Henry Hipkens warbling about a Snow Day would have been most appropriate), the washing machine, the refrigerator, the telephone, and worst of all, the Internet and my e-boyfriends!!
When we awoke to the ice, Sas and I decided that for me to attempt the commute into the city and the office might be folly. I called various colleagues to see what their plans were and no one I spoke to thought the office was the place to be and that was good enough for me! I planned a happy day of baking and dog-romping. Sas was delighted!

So we romped a little and then I set about making a chocolate cake iced with ganache. I thought it would be nice to take a cake to my coworkers the next day when we returned to work and I have a really good recipe for a 3-layer chocolate cake...lots of butter...lots of cocoa...lots of sugar, but no milk, which is good since I had none. So I set the oven to pre-heat and buttered and cocoa-ed the pans. I mixed the cocoa with boiling water and very hot, strong coffee...creamed the butter and sugar together, added the cocoa mess and eggs and the dry ingredients and stirred it until that "batter falls in ribbons" thing happened. I was just getting ready to pour it into the pans, when the lights flickered and went out! No!! I sat down on the couch in despair, and Sas brought me her favorite toy to cheer me up, to no avail. But then, after a few minutes, the lights came back! Well, there was no reason to think they'd die again, so I re-pre-heated the oven and once again was ready to pour the batter into the pans. As you will have guessed, the lights went out and this time they stayed out. And our ordeal began in earnest.

--Ina

Sasquatch goes all sorrow-dog

Sasquatch was depressed. She was distressed over the state of her hairdo. Sas has unruly hair...we can't all be blessed with perfect locks, and she is one of the unfortunates. And she's very vain for a dog...I don't know where she gets it. Well, yes, I do care about my appearance and perhaps I do spend a little too much time primping, and there are some (not many) who have mentioned that I might be a little shallow. But vain? Surely not! Why, to call me vain would imply that I spend all my time thinking of shoes and hats (HATS!) and lipstick and dresses and short-tailed skirts and scent and cashmere sweaters. Everyone who knows me knows that I spend most of my time in deep reflection about how I might best help save the world from itself. And I've come up with some pretty good ideas, but what's important now is Sas's well-being. She's been like this for several days. She's spent most of her time in her recliner, sleeping or moping. She's lost interest in saving our home from squirrels and even Chuckwoolery's kisses bore her. She doesn't call for Rolf anymore and barely notices that he's stopped stopping by. Oh, she puts on a good front when we go for our walks, but I know her too well and can see that she's deeply troubled.

This morning she refused to leave the house until her hair was covered. Fortunately, we found those red flannel panties sent by that most charming e-boyfriend and she used them as her hat (HAT!). She likes the warmth of the flannel and the lace appeals to her girly side. I'm glad she likes them because I wouldn't be caught dead in them...I do hope this particular e-boyfriend isn't reading the blog. Well, I don't think he would. I think his interests lie more in the physical rather than the intellectual pursuits. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it, if his emails are any indication, although sometimes it's a little hard to know exactly what he's writing since his spelling skills are, well, let's just say he won't be winning any bees. But there's certainly nothing wrong with that. No, indeed. This world is big enough to accommodate the brawny as well as the brainy. His photo suggests that he's brawny all right. Oh it's not one of those tacky shirtless ones. No, he's clothed, but well, it must have been a trick of the light the day the picture was taken...those shoulders...and the arms...the breadth of chest...and tall! Oh my...it's 12 degrees outside, but it seems oddly warm in here...is it just me??

Well.....so, yes, Sasquatch...I think she was concerned or depressed or unhappy or something...what was it? (that little bitch...always complaining about something. Doesn't she know I have other things to think about right now?) I seem to have become a little lost....Oh yes! her hair! That's right, she needed a salon appointment. Well, of course, I got right on the phone and made her appointment...a day of beauty at the doggie salon. Oh, she'll be a new girl! I'll be sure to post pictures so all her virtual friends can see her transformation. She'll regain the will to live, I'm sure of it. I do hope though, that she will have forgotten all about Rolf...all that calling and calling for him was getting on my nerves....

--Ina

technical difficulties in HELL...

Sasquatch and I are tired of winter. Well, I'm tired of it. Sas, being a superior being, enjoys all seasons and finds special delight in cold and snow. Sometimes, I think she's a freak. Take this morning...oh go on and take it; I have no use for it. When we awoke circa 4:30 (Sas is an early riser and insists that I be one too. Sometimes, I think she might be a little selfish...), I looked out the window to survey the damage inflicted by the snowfall that had been predicted. It looked like 4-5 inches, judging from the look of the deck. When Sas and I got out in it, my estimate was confirmed. After she frolicked and sniffed and danced around for a few minutes, we came back in so I could get ready for work. I always go to work when it is a workday...well, if I can, that is. I saw no reason why today should be any different. So there was the outfit picking (jeans today in honor of the snow. I selected a semi-comfortable pair that do not fit like the very skin. They are not that flattering, but I reasoned that I'd be sitting behind my desk for most of the day, and I did pick out a nice turtleneck sweater to go with them, so folks seeing me in my office would have something nice to look at while they made their excuses for whatever it was that they'd done against the rules.) and makeup applying (default), hair styling (default), jewelry (silver hoops, default ring/watch) and fragrance (Cabochard, a green/leather chypre...notes include bergamot, mandarin, galbanum, ylang ylang, jasmine, Bulgarian rose, clove, oakmoss, tobacco, sandalwood, vetiver, leather, castoreum, patchouli and labdanum. Classic, slighty naughty, but not too naughty for work.)

So I let the car warm up for about an hour and the ice still hadn't melted...I must get a snow/ice scraper one day. I've been using a metal pancake turner (I don't make pancakes that often, so I keep my turner in the car.), but I'm sure a proper scraper would be more efficient. I set off and got to the end of the street...defeated!! That left turn just wasn't going to happen, so I turned around to wait for more clement weather.

While I was waiting, I opened email to see what surprises might be there. I had a message from HELL...new handbasket choices! But, and this is happening with distressing regularity, they were the same handbasket choices I had rejected just a few days ago. What?? So, now, not only are my handbasket residents completely inappropriate as dating material, they are the same 3 inappropriate choices time after time after time. Has the HELL handbasket software gone into a loop? That's possible, I guess. Or has HELL reached the bottom of the barrel for me? Have the gatekeepers of HELL decided that since I'm so picky, they won't even try to dredge up any new handbasket choices for me? Well, I AM picky. What's wrong with that? Should I settle for someone like DrCliffphd and spend the rest of my days seeking honky tonks and doing the electric slide? I think not. (I visited HELL over the weekend and saw that DrCliffphd had stalked me! I was struck dumb with terror! But, he hasn't sent me anymore messages, so perhaps he was just taking a walk down memory lane.) So, if HELL won't provide appropriate men for me, I guess I'll be forced to find them on my own. What a bummer...

--Ina

another hot date from HELL...part II

I finally got off the phone...oh, it wasn't anybody cool. Just that lady from the DAV who calls every couple of months. You've talked to her before...she wants to know if you have any clothes, shoes, blankets, toys, small children, small appliances, goldfish, lamps, prosthetic limbs, handbags (or as she says, pocketbooks...so cute), bags of money, candles, books, scratch paper, gently used DVDs, or anything else they can get for free and resell to the public. Well, I didn't have any of those things...oh, okay, I did have some of those things but to get them together by her drop dead date was more than I was willing to take on right now. So, I rejoined Sasquatch on the couch and went back to my email from the charming Shih-tzu2u4u8u.

(Sas's attitude had improved greatly since she'd gotten her way about that stupid Concentration retrospective. I don't know why she likes it so much; it's not like she has a long enough attention span to really play the game effectively.)


Shih-t wanted to say "Hi!!" and asked if I remembered him from his previous message. But, if I didn't, he included the text of it plus my reply. How thoughtful! He reminded me that he was available 3 or 4 days a week, in case I had found any empty hours that needed filling. He said he liked my hair and he was willing to bet that I was good looking...Well, I corrected that mistaken assumption immediately. Oddly, he didn't ask for a photo. He assured me that many people had told him he was good looking. I can see it now, folks walking up to him, saying, "Hey Shih-t! You're good looking!!" Right...I was curious enough to look at his profile...Oh stop it. I was bored with that dumb Game Show Channel. I looked at his profile, but there wasn't anything there. No picture, no essays, no sidebar information...nothing...at all, except his stupid moniker and location. I didn't think the administrators in HELL allowed a no-profile profile. Well, who can figure them out.


He messaged a few more times, and I answered...I was bored and had nothing better to do. Hugh Downs was really bumming me out too. (Sas loves him though. Sometimes, I have serious reservations about her taste in men...) So, Shih-t's messages served as a distraction. I mentioned to him that his HELL profile was a little...vague. He said he didn't anyone to know it was him. Well, I can certainly understand that...I didn't want anyone to know it was me either, for reasons previously discussed.


He sent some more messages, saying, well, nothing really. Just that he liked my hair, which I thought had already been established, but whatever. He still revealed nothing about himself though and I was getting a little bored. I asked about his moniker, thinking he must be interested in the Shih Tzu breed of dog...although, it's kind of a frou-frou dog and made me wonder a little about his masculinity...He didn't answer and pressed me for a time we could "get together." Well, I'm not getting together with anyone who won't tell me anything about himself. Besides, I was getting the impression he was only after "one thing," and we all know what that one thing is...not that there's anything wrong with that one thing, but I like to know at least a little something about someone before I just fall into bed with him. (I've been told that I'm too picky, but so be it.) So I wandered off to do important chores like sweeping up bushels of dog hair and cleaning up cat throw up...When I returned to my laptop several hours later, there was another message from Shih-t...a revelation from him, in fact. He reminded me that he was married what?? and that his wife was done with "..." what?? Well, this was the first I'd heard about any wife and her lack of interest in ... (and if he can't even type the word in a message, then I doubt that his skills in the bedroom are all that hot, not that I had any intention of finding out.)


He insisted that he had told me about his wife and her aversion to ... but I would have remembered something like that. And really, I'm not interested in helping some man cheat on his wife. So I messaged him back and suggested counseling... I've had no more messages from Shih-tzu2u4u8u.


--Ina

another hot date from Hell

Sasquatch and I were sitting there on the couch, arguing. She was getting a little assertive, as this photo reveals.
She wanted to watch the Game Show Channel. Concentration--The Early Years, hosted by Hugh Downs, was on and she was dying to see it. I wanted to listen to my Henry Hipkens CDs. I have just discovered Henry and I adore him. There are only 2 CDs, and he needs to get busy making another. His website says he's hibernating. I can only hope this is songwriter code for writing more songs, gargling and tuning the guitar. If the 2 of you who read this on a semi-regular basis would all send him an email, perhaps he would be inspired to get off his lazy ass and get that CD done...the rest of y'all who've just stumbled in while looking for something titillating on the web get a pass on the Henry email thing. So, I was getting ready to get in the car to listen to my CDs so Sas could watch her stupid Concentration retrospective when she looked pointedly at my laptop. I knew from experience that this meant new mail!

When I opened email, I saw that I had an intimate communication from HELL! How exciting! It was from someone named Shih-tzu2u4u8u. What?? Wait a minute! I had gotten mail from this guy before. He emailed a few weeks ago and asked if I needed help filling my empty days. Well, I told him then in no uncertain terms that my days were far from empty. There's my most fulfilling and important job that takes up most of my time. It's wonderful to work for one of America's most worker-friendly and compassionate corporations. I could never ask for a more satisfying work experience! And such vital work! No, it's not a cure for cancer or the answer to third world hunger, but important nonetheless. And the rewards! The bags of money I have just sitting around the house are just amazing. I should really start a scholarship fund...I do hate paperwork and I imagine there's quite a lot to deal with, working with Harvard or other Ivy League universities. Perhaps I'll get around to it one day. In the meantime, while I'm waiting to get around to it, I think I'll purchase these shoes. Aren't they beautiful? Christian Louboutin...

with the signature red soles...so pretty and only $995!! Well, yes, $995 seems a little excessive for a pair of shoes...but just imagine...those shoes, my perfect little black dress...and dream date! First, dinner at Applebee's? Perhaps the blackened chicken with a double loaded baked potato (extra Bac'Os) and veg o' day. Then what? The possibilities are endless...bowling? well, I'd hate to take off my Louboutins to put on bowling shoes...if we got the early bird special at Applebee's, we might have time to get to Kart Kountry for a wild go-cart ride before dark. And then, since we'd be in Buford County anyway, we might as well take advantage of all those remote spots for parking! Sooo exciting...
Wait!! Is that the phone?!?

--Ina

totally fiction...mostly

Sasquatch and I were sitting there on the couch watching the Game Show Channel. Dating Game was on and it makes Sas a little uneasy. I think she just doesn't get all the sexual innuendo, which isn't surprising given her innocence. Anyway, Bob had just asked couple number one where was the craziest place they'd ever made whoopie, when Sas whimpered a little under her breath. Well, I knew it couldn't be Bob's question...she'd heard that hundreds, no thousands, of times before. So I asked, "What's the matter, girl? Is Timmy out in the garage smoking crack again?" She looked pointedly at my laptop...I saw we had a new message from our friend from HELL, Foghorn Leghorn in Walmart TN. (How does Sas always know when new messages come?) Fog is a terrific guy...completely crazy...but harmless and pretty nice....writes a good email. Oh of course his name isn't Foghorn Leghorn, but that's really pretty close. Fog and I had been emailing for a while and I always read his messages to Sas. I always read everybody's messages to Sas...we have no secrets.
So I began to read Fog's message and Sas was really wagging. WTF? I mean her tail was on fire. It was just a normal Fog message...disjointed, wildly funny...regular stuff. But Sasquatch seemed oddly excited. A little while later, she wondered if we could take a few photos. Well, Sas is nothing if not a ham, so I thought nothing of it. I snapped her picture; the result is here...
Then it really got weird. She kind of moped around and acted like she couldn't get comfortable...not normal Sas behavior at all. Finally, I got it out of her...she wanted to send her photo to Fog! He had sent her a special email greeting of love a few days before...just goofing around, but evidently, she took it more seriously than he had intended. Uh oh. On the sly I sent Foghorn a message telling him what was up, and as I expected, he was totally nice about it. He said to send the pic and he'd play along and act all flirty with her. We figured she'd forget all about it soon. Well, no.
Over the course of the next few days. Fog made a few half-hearted promises to Sas, thinking she'd lose her nerve. But THAT didn't happen. She had me read those emails to her over and over and well, her behavior was just...wanton! Sas was in love! Why, you can just see the happiness on her face in this pic...
So what to do?? I talked it over with Fog, and he was clueless, as I knew he'd be. But he seemed oddly captivated by Sas too, and I was just a little bit pissed, to tell the truth. I thought I might have kind of a live one in Fog. Oh sure, he lived in Tennessee, but that's not that far. Now that gas has come down in price, it was completely conceivable that we might be able to set up some meetings on a fairly regular basis. And he's kind of a country mouse, while I'm more of a city mouse, but that doesn't seem insurmountable to me. But if I was reading this situation right, it was entirely possible that I might lose him to my DOG!?! What humiliation! But I've discovered that e-flirtations are often about humiliation and rejection, so this one was no different.



But then, a couple of days ago, Sas was sitting at the back door, wagging like crazy. I looked out and saw that schnauzer from down the street. He sometimes escapes and I see him running madly through the neighborhood. But now, he was sitting outside my back door and it was obvious that he and Sas had made a love connection. Isn't he cute? Sasquatch loves a man with facial hair and bushy eyebrows...His name is Rolf, and I heard Sas calling him the other day...or maybe she was just barking.

--Ina

from HELL to Dilbertville

Our corporate father,

which art at headquarters,

The Man be thy name.

Thy bonus come,

thy will be done,

at satellite offices, as it is at corporate.

Give us this day our daily task,

And forgive us our slackerness, as we forgive you your $400 haircut.

And lead us not into the conference room, but deliver us from busywork.

For thine is the strategic plan and the powerpoint presentation and the budgeting cycle for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever.....

Each morning when I arrive at the office, before I check email, before I check voice mail, I offer up this little prayer to remind myself how lucky I am to have a job. I really shouldn't have to remind myself, since I hear on a daily basis how lucky I am to have a job, but still, like Sasquatch, I am a creature of habit, and so spend a moment in quiet reflection each morning, counting my corporate blessings. Let's see, there's my office, which really is quite fabulous, being a corner office, with many windows. And if it gets stifling hot in the summer, and drafty cold in the winter, well, at least I have an office and do not have to sit in a cubicle! And there's my desk, which I believe to be an antique, at least by the look of some of the detritus at the bottoms of the drawers. (As you can see from this photo, I'm a very busy person and can multi-task with the best of them.) I'm also thankful for the many trinkets I've accumulated over the years, which are valuable for their ability to distract me when I've had a busy morning of thinking strategically and my brain is tired.

But most of all, I'm thankful for my coworkers, most of whom I like very much and I think they like me too. I'm especially thankful for those few colleagues upon whom I've come to rely to keep me grounded, to listen to my whining without judging, to make me laugh, to be there when corporate foolishness threatens to take my sanity, to be my friends. You know who you are and without you, I wouldn't last a day in Dilbertville. Of all my corporate blessings, you are by far the greatest.

--Ina

a cold day in HELL

Yesterday, when Sasquatch and I got up, the temperature was minus 1, the wind chill minus 14. It was a cold-ass day for Kentucky. Sas enjoys a short walk in the mornings before dawn. She raises her nose in search of new smells that have arrived overnight, she listens for rabbits trembling in the brush, she looks around dimly for anything that might be out of place, she seeks out her favorite place for a morning pee. Like all dogs, she experiences and enjoys...mostly enjoys.



I wasn't looking forward to a walk yesterday morning, even a very short one, but I couldn't disappoint Sas. She was excited, as she always is...wagging and smiling and tossing her head. Happy-dog. So, I got as bundled up as possible, but I couldn't find my warm scarf. Where could it be? Beats me...



It wasn't too bad until we got around the corner of the house and the wind hit us in the face. I gasped and muttered under my breath every ugly word I know. It was so cold, it hurt to breathe...my eyes watered...my nose was instantly numb. I wanted nothing more than to get back inside as soon as possible. Sas was standing there at the end of the driveway...her nose up. I said her name to get her attention so she'd follow me back to the house without a lot of leash tugging. When she looked around at me, the she had this expression on her face that said, "Wow! How cool is this?!? This is not like in the house! This is exhilarating! This is cold! This is fun!" And then she took off, leaping and shuffling, prancing around, delighting in the otherness of the cold. It was funny and I would have laughed, but my face was frozen and refused to move in any kind of meaningful way. So we gamboled for a few minutes, (well, she gamboled; I mostly plodded. I think my gamboling days might be over, although every now and then I do get an urge to skip, but almost never when wearing fuck-me pumps.) and then I really could not stand it anymore, and she reluctantly followed me back to the house.


Since I hadn't taken my camera outside, and it probably wouldn't have worked under such extreme conditions even if I had, when we got back inside and when my fingers thawed enough, I did a little rough sketch of Sas gamboling. Think of it as animation, except not animated.


And then, since the morning couldn't get any stranger, I logged into HELL for a minute...It was pretty cold in there too...no new handbasket residents...no new messages...no new stalkers...whatever.


Those of you who have been paying attention know that I believe strongly that people should strive to be more like dogs in attitude. Sas's morning in the bitter cold is just one more example. She didn't complain about it nor even seem distressed about it. She saw it as something different to be experienced and enjoyed...mostly enjoyed. She didn't stand there huddled with her back to the wind (like I did). She leaped and played and made the most of it. We can learn a lot from dogs, and I'm doing just that...albeit slowly.

--Ina

deliver me from HELL

Sasquatch was engrossed in a new show on the Game Show Channel...some Japanese game show, involving young women sitting on fake horses and hitting each other with cream pies. I couldn't figure it out, but Sas was intrigued. So, just for fun, I thought I'd get into Aubergine's email account. I hadn't checked it for several days, so was excited about what I might find.




Well, what I found was Dick Cheney in Aubergine's handbasket. Oh okay, he wasn't really Dick Cheney (I don't guess, although Dick is going to have some time on his hands here in a few days, so who knows) but he looked just like him! His moniker was charliedaniels443322, which is kinda long as monikers go, so I'll call him charlie. Charlie claimed to be from Squatrock KY. I don't know where that is, but it was 142 miles from Louisville. However, charlie said he was working in Belgium. He didn't specify if it was the Belgium in Europe or perhaps some little burg in southern Indiana, so I don't know.


It will come as no surprise to you that charlie was a little strange...so many of HELL's men are strange in some way. And some are strange in very nice ways. Not charlie, though. It's hard to describe his strangeness. It wasn't so much what he said, but the way he phrased things. He was desperate for a girlfriend. That's what he said. "Desparate for a grilfeind is what I am." He wanted her to have a "sence of humour" because he was very very funny. Well, yeah, you got that right, charlie. He wanted a grilfeind to dance with, "neck to neck, ear to shoulder, slowly but with time to the music." Well, I don't know. Is that ear to shoulder thing even physically possible...maybe but who specifies something like that? And what if the music is spritely, charlie? Are you going to insist on dancing slowly then?


He also wanted to stay home and watch movies and snuggle on the couch and cook together and blah, blah, blah...just like so many others. The lack of imagination in HELL is troubling...I did get the impression that English was not charlie's first language, so perhaps he really was in the European Belgium. But if that's the case, why did he say he was from Squatrock? Why am I even speculating. It's not like I'm going to contact charlie, even though he was the most promising of Aubergine's handbasket set.
One of Ina's e-boyfriends had sent her a pair of red flannel panties. It was a joke! Shut up! Well, Sas loves those panties and wants to wear them on her head constantly. So here she is, adorned.
Looks jaunty, like a fleece headband!
--Ina

what the HELL...

Sasquatch was pretty disgusted with the Game Show Channel. Its whole schedule has been switched around in some kind of freaky new year's joke, and she can't find any of her favorite shows. The ones she really likes are probably on during the day while I'm at my fascinating and financially rewarding job. I have forbidden her to watch television during the day because I'm afraid it would distract her from her job...Guarding the House...she does a little counter surfing on the side, but not enough to interfere with that guarding gig. So anyway, she's been moping around, all disgusted-dog...Kinda like me. My recent experiences in HELL have left me moping around too, all disgusted-babe. (I AM too a babe. You've never seen me so shut up.) Oh, that photo up there? Well, yeah, that's me but it's too small for you to make anything out, plus, I was 3. I look lots different today, but just as appealing. (Is it just me or is that paperweight on the left oddly phallic? I don't know...I got a little quivery when I looked at it just now.)

So my recent experiences in HELL...well, I'm not sure I can write about them right now. Suffice to say, "bitter disappointment" doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm sure I'll carry on, but whether or not it will be in HELL is up for debate. For now, if you want to talk to me, you'll have to look in the corner there behind the chair, where I'll be all huddled in a knot, my arms around Sas, sobbing into her fur. She's already got a very large wet spot on her shoulder

that's threatening to go all mildewy...

--Ina

more HELL'S handbasket

Sasquatch was busy munching a yummy bone and suggested that I check HELL for possible true loves. I had to look at her like WTF?!? Because, well, had there been any true loves yet? Had there even been any good matches in my handbasket? Heck no! But she was busy and I was bored, plus ever optimistic (as those of you who know me in real life can attest!) so, I logged on and looked at my handbasket contents, and let me tell you, I had some doozies this time.

There he was...dream date! Or maybe not...His moniker was 2funy4u. Funy? He was one who illustrates why taking a shirtless photo of yourself in front of the bathroom mirror is not a good idea. There he stood...camera sort of off to the side, but not far enough away that the flash wasn't reflected, which probably was good since it distracted me from his fish-belly white, well belly. He had this hang-dog look on his face...it was obvious he knew that standing there in the bathroom, half naked, taking his own picture was a really dumb idea. So why would he attach this awful photo to his profile, which presumably, he was using to try to attract women? Well, who knows...and what's more, who cares? And 2funy? Well, not if his profile was any indication. In fact, I didn't see anything funy, but as everyone knows, I am humor-impaired. However, I did learn that the six things that he cannot live without are: 1. Air, 2. Food, 3. House, 4. His truck, 5. Water, and 6. A good woman. What? I can't believe he put his house and his truck before water! Everybody knows the human body cannot survive, well very long, without water! So, I'm thinking 2funy4u is a pretty literal minded guy, if not really all that bright. And not really all that funy either. And not really all that imaginative either. And not really all that good looking either, although I'd have been willing to overlook that if there had been anything at all appealing about him. Rejected!
Another handbasket resident was pattynme4u...Pattynme4u was a married man who was looking for...what? A girlfriend? Was this another one of those polyamorous freaks? He and his wife, Patty, wanted a friend to hang out with...and he's looking for one in HELL?!? Why not walk across the street and talk to your neighbor? Or perhaps he and Patty could find a friend at church because according to his profile (yes, go ahead and judge me, I looked at his profile) they were big church goers...Sundays AND Wednesdays. Well, no, Pattynme4u, I do not want to be your special friend. I do not want to hang out. I do not want to have anything at all to do with you. Rejected!

And my other handbasket person? Well, perhaps I'll tell you about him...perhaps not. So grim....

So Sas and I will probably finish Slugs in Love tonight. I've grown to love those madcap little slugs, Herbie and Mary Ann.
--Ina

HELL'S handbasket...

There's this little feature that HELL likes to call your "handbasket." It works like this: every few days, they go through their files of potential matches and send 3 of them to you. This is your handbasket. You can look at the profiles of these 3 and choose to either accept them or reject them. heh. Now, I don't know how they go about picking these 3...When they send them they say, "We think these 3 matches would be perfect for you!!!" But, based on what is what I'd like to know. Most of the ones they've sent me are men I would never in a million years consider as a plain friend, much less a boyfriend. Oh, some seem fairly nice, if you like religious fanatics and lunatics. Others are just plain weird. Polyboy from Indiana was one, and the less said about him, the better. Then there was campinfanatic. He loved the great outdoors and was never happier than when he was in his tent, sharing his sleeping bag with his "little" woman. In fact, it seems that camping and sleeping bags were the only things he was interested in. Hmm. I defy anyone to find even one tiny place in my profile where I say anything about liking to camp or even that I would consider ever, EVER going camping again in my life. Furthermore, I defy anyone to find a single question I've answered or test I've taken that hints even slightly that camping is something I do. Nope, you won't find it, and yet, some arcane algorithm in HELL determined that campinfanatic and I were perfect for each other. For awhile, I thought they were basing their handbasket picks on proximity...you know, if you lived within 100 miles of each other, you matched. But upon further reflection, I decided that couldn't be right. I had discovered through browsing that there were several men who closely "matched" me and were within 100 miles, and yet, they never have shown up in my handbasket. Well, you say, they will. Well, no, I don't think they will because if so, why haven't they yet? Campinfanatic shows up every couple of weeks and Polyboy has shown up more than once. But has cartwheelguy shown up? No, even though he and I get 79% on the match scale and 87% on the friend scale, plus we live 89 miles from each other. Sasquatch says HELL is just yankin' my chain. Sas is a wise dog...
Cartwheelguy and I have had some really nice email conversations, but neither seems to be willing to drive the 89 miles necessary to actually meet the other. Well, email is easy and driving is hard.
Email is safe and meeting is fraught with danger. Email is faceless and seeing each other face to face is, well, seeing each other face to face, which could spell disaster. So, for now, I suppose we'll email and see if one or the other gets bored first...or gets brave first. It could be interesting...but I freakin' doubt it.

--Ina