I haven’t yet introduced my three felines, who totally own this house.  Our oldest is a brown tabby with white, the “middle child” is a brown and red torbie, and the youngest is an orange tabby with white.  The first two are “the ladies” an, while providing us with much love, also provide us with relatively sane feline-antics. 

…..And then there is the orange one…..who regularly gets into interesting predicaments (jumping into paint, carrying plastic spoons around and the like).

I came home yesterday to a surprise…left by the orange one…a package of cheese that had been opened, spread upon the floor, and partially consumed (he stole it out of a lunchbox - long story).  Now, said orange feline is lactose-intolerant, but his love of cheese far surpasses whatever discomfort he may feel.  However, it does not surpass my discomfort at stepping in puked up cheese.  Yes, all over the house I found evidence of the cheese not quite settling into his stomach, as perhaps he’d hoped it would.  I also had to vacuum the remaining mound of cheese he hadn’t managed to consume (thankfully dairy runs through his system quickly, so he had probably only had a few bites before he was reintroduced to the cheese he’d eaten). 

Now the vacuum smells faintly of cheese (which I find rather unpleasant…and I fancy cheese as much as the feline)…but I think we’ve managed to find all evidence of his cheese-escapades.  Yes, that would be life with felines.

After a visit to the National Zoo, you would think the most interesting part of our day might have been the animals we saw.  Or perhaps it would be the fantastic dinner we had at a Sweetwater Grill (the roasted chicken salad is fabulous).  It might even be the traumatic site of watching an SUV take out two deer at once on our way up.  However, in the style of our family, the most interesting part of our day was, in fact…..wait for it.

The escalators.

That’s right, the escalators on the metro.  Evidently Don and I are kryptonite to escalators.  All we had to do is look at an escalator, and it went down.  The real problem began at the Woodley Park-Zoo station.  We got off and got packed into a HUGE line.  It took a while to figure out what was going on…we eventually found out the escalator had, in fact, become stairs.  However, Metro has a problem with escalators being stairs, and had shut one side down to “fix” the problem.  This meant that both people going down and those going up had to use the same escalator.  You can probably imagine that the zoo station is going to be pretty darn busy on a pretty day like today.  We finally managed to make it up the escalator/stairs, but it took some fancy maneuvering.

From there, we went to the zoo, saw lots of cool animals and generally had a good time.  Eventually, however, it was time to leave…and this meant returning to the metro.  Imagine our surprise and laughter when what is one of the longest escalators on the line has been stilled (it was working earlier in the day).  We then proceeded to ride to Metro Center.  We were watching the escalator when it became stairs right before our eyes!  And the Vienna station…yeah, those escalators were not moving when we returned to that station, as well.  It really got to be funny….others were not amused, but we had a good time laughing about the escalators.

So, with a big trip to the big city, the big event from the day is broken escalators.

But so you’re not left disappointed, here is one of my favorite photos of the day - a flamingo:

So Don & I went out tonight to Sonic to get a Sonic Blast to share for dessert, as we do occasionally.  Who knew that our nightly entertainment would be provided along with our tasty dessert?

While we’re waiting for our blast to arrive, a car enters going the wrong way.  And they’re obviously confused by the fact all the parking spaces are slanted the opposite direction of their travel.  Let’s just say that the parking job wasn’t quite up to par.  But they weren’t worried about this, as the adult daughter and wife got out of the car to head into the restaurant…if you’ve never seen a Sonic, they’re drive-in restaurants.  Evidently they didn’t realize that there are menus at ALL the parking spaces for a reason.  They were obviously told you eat in the car…the husband/father was getting out of the car to follow them in when the daughter & wife returned.  The daughter started yelling “Get back in the car!  Get back in the car!”  Then the husband backed the car up and then got out (the daughter was going to take his place at the driver’s seat)…the wife then yelled “Get back in the car!  Get back in the car!” with the nastiest look on her face.  Both Don and I immediately felt sorry for said husband, who is obviously being abused by daughter & wife. 

It took them a while, but they finally figured out how to order.  Their food eventually arrived and they drove off (they left going the wrong direction again…evidently arrows mean nothing to them).  Of course, Don and I couldn’t help ourselves.  This led to lots of imitations of the wife as we ate our dessert and on the entire way home.  We also imagined a nice mistress for the husband so he had some time away from the wife. 

I also told Don if I ever acted like that to shoot me.  He said he wouldn’t shoot me, he would get his new wife to do it.  One, I can’t imagine acting like that to another human being at all…much less in public.  I doubt the wife even realizes she created such entertainment and provided such a great subject to make fun of tonight.  It will be a while before we forget that.

Yes, my husband and I can even make buying a lamp to be an adventure. 

Buying furniture, no big deal.
Buying a washer/dryer, no big deal.
Buying a car, went pretty smooth.
Buying a lamp, an adventure.

Perhaps we should have just gone down to the local Texaco and bought some of the lamps they have for sale.  We’ve been joking for years about a gas station selling lamps.  And no, they aren’t little desk lamps.  They look like lamps that someone would put in their living room…if that someone were a redneck.  However, purchasing a lamp from Texaco would have saved us from the adventure that followed my query “Where else can I find a lamp?”

This started Friday night when I’d looked at a few lamps at Target.  I need one for my desk, and they had some really cute bases with lamp shades.  Small ones that would be perfect for my desk.  However, while I found the perfect base, I did not find the perfect shade. 

Let me give you the quick summary of what it took for us to buy a lamp:
1.  Go to Lowes…find lamp shade I love, but no bases to suit.
2.  Go to Target…realize the base I love doesn’t have the hardware for a lamp harp.
3.  Learn what a lamp harp is.
4.  Go to Home Depot…realize Texaco has more lamps than Home Depot, but do manage to get lamp parts that will allow us to attach the harp to the base I love.
5.  Go BACK to Target…purchase lamp base.
6.  Make one more trip to a different Lowes for the final part of the lamp.
7.  Put together…*Poof* Lamp made from the parts from four different stores.

In retrospect, going to Texaco might’ve been the way to go.  Sure, the lamp would be ugly, but we would only need one store.

I have decided I have a future goal in life.  To be famous.  I, however, do not want to be famous while I’m alive.  I don’t think I could deal with the paparazzi, heck, I can’t spell paparazzi (thank you spell check).  I do plan on becoming famous after I am dead, though.  Even if the paparazzi dig me up, I doubt they’ll bother me much if I’m dead.

My plan for fame:  Writing Prophecies.

Assuming we make it past December 21, 2012, I have the perfect plan.  I will write prophecies and then bury them in a time capsule so they’ll be found many, many years down the road.  Of course, they’ll be in the whole “Nostradamus” vein.  My hope is that there will be shows on the History Channel dedicated to my predictions, like there are for Nostradamus.  Perhaps they’ll have some really attractive actress all decked out in weird clothes acting like she’s writing prophecies to represent me.  That would be a certain level of awesome.  Not everyone has a show dedicated to them.  I’m not entirely sure why it’s worked out for Nostradamus, but I plan on following his format to fame.

My first prophecy is even written:
“In the year of the flaming dragon,
dark clouds will descend.
Haikus will be written,
and trees will fall to the ground.”

I think it’s got promise.

I’ve known it for some time.

The need to enter a bookstore and at least be amongst the books, even if I wasn’t actually purchasing one. The need to have a book with me at all times. The fear of being without a new book to read. My large to-be-read pile is a testament of it. My habit of lingering in the book section of every store is another indication.

What is it? My addition to books. I love them…and I can’t live without them.

I have always been a reader. I grew up among books and was known to spend my allowance money on only two things: books and things for my cat. However, I don’t think I truly became addicted to books until after college. I read regularly before that time, but the pressures of being a patent examiner forced me to find some way to destress. Books became my escape and my addiction began. It started slowly…taking trips to the bookstore and coming home with a book or two, constantly having my nose in a book when away from the torture at the office, keeping up with book reviews. Many years later, I have been known to come out of bookstores after having purchased 7 books at a time. I don’t do this often, and yet, my to-be-read pile is, well, large. I’ve run out of book shelf space (which is a big reason why I purchased a Nook - which I love).  So, why do I write this?  In hopes of getting help?  In hopes of entering a 12-step program?  Not really.  I find it is an addiction I don’t want to fix.

I am what I am…a book-a-holic.