The Cat is HUNGRYS

This is how it usually works.  Chris and I finish eating our dinner, and set the plates down on the coffee table until the next person gets up.

The cat is suddenly our best friend.  She sits on our laps, purring.

PURR PURR PURR (while inside her little feline brain, she is thinking, mmm that plate of leftover food looks tasty how can i get me some.)

So she tries the sneak attack.  It goes like this:

Much plotting ensues.  She purrs to distract us from her true purpose.

She inches closer while we are absorbed in our television watching.

Closer still...

And then she pulls a "teenage boy on a movie date" in which she nonchalantly pretends to stretch and yawn while at the same time getting her grubby little paws closer to the prize.

This is how she envisioned it.  nom nom nom.

Unfortunately for her, SHE IS NOT THAT SNEAKY.  She only got to the "grubby paws" stage before we shooed her off the couch and cleared the dishes to the sink...

How much do you love Chihuahuas?

Probably not as much as THIS PERSON:

Who needs wallpaper when you've got a collection of magazine photos and some Christmas lights???!

Memoir Mondays: Texas Learned Me a Few Things

Courtesy of Travis at I Like to Fish, it's time for an installment of "Memoir Mondays."


Now that I am, of course, an experienced professional in my line of work, I thought I would share this story from my early days in the business.

San Antonio, Texas, 2006

Remember the good old days of college? Where you didn't take a class before 10am, and if you had to take that 7am or 8am Chem class, you just sat in the back and slept through the lecture? And no one noticed?

Yeah, ummm... doesn't work so well in the "real world". Case in point:

Monday afternoon I attempt to fly to San Antonio. Also on the plane - ticket holders to the Mavs/Spurs semifinals playoff game that night. (This is important to the story later). Get on plane. A-ok! Sit next to skinny people with good hygiene. A-ok! Plane begins taxiing. A-ok! Plane makes loud noises and starts shaking. Not ok! Plane is stopped and returns to gate.

Fast-forward 45 minutes. Flight attendant says there is a problem with the "air ducts" and we are going to switch planes. Original arrival time in San Antonio: 6:45pm. New arrival time in San Antonio: 9pm. Tip-off for the Mavs/Spurs game: 7:30pm. But don't worry. They'll give us updates on the game.

I think I knew the score of that game better than the basketball games I actually attend. There is Bald Guy with the Fancy Cell Phone who shouts out the score every 2 seconds until the plane leaves the gate and he must shut the phone off. In the air, we get an update from the captain every 20 minutes or so, mostly saying, "I think the score is...". Oh, really, are you just guessing or do you actually know the score? Upon landing, Bald Guy with Fancy Cell Phone resumes shouting out the score every 2 seconds until it is his time to leave the plane. Walk by sports bar at airport, score is announced. Get on shuttle bus to car rental, the game is on the radio (really loud). Get in rental car, drive to checkout stand. Security tells us the score of the game. I'm getting the feeling they like the Spurs in San Antonio?

Important "bid meeting" with multiple important people and our competitors on Tuesday. 8am, downtown. If we want parking, we need to leave by 6:45. Which means I must get up at 5:45 to look presentible and manage a small breakfast. FYI: that's 3:45 am Phoenix time.

I manage 1/2 cup of weak coffee at breakfast before it is time to leave. Lulled into a false sense of security by the promise of more coffee at our destination, I don't attempt to chug more caffiene. Upon arrival, no such coffee is available. There weren't even donughts.

So, to make a long story short, after about an hour of sitting in a dimly-lit room at 6am (my time) and listening to some people talk about some stuff... I started to nod off. I fought the impending sleep with everything I had. I was trying so hard to hold my eyes open my vision was swimming. I would be taking notes and all of a sudden realize my pen was no longer forming intelligible words. I hoped perhaps no one had noticed. Did I mention this is my first bid meeting, representing my whole company in front of not only the contracting officers (the company that will hire us if our job bid wins) but also all our competitors for the job?

Maybe no one will notice.

Well, judging by the fact that I was teased about my "naptime" by no less that four people, THEY NOTICED.

Aside from the rude awakening (figuratively, of course!) that the real world is not like college, I learned a few other things while in Texas.

1. It IS possible to use the following sentence when addressing people in a professional setting: "Now if y'all are here for the bid why don't y'alls just come over this way and I'll show y'all where to go." That's right, three y'alls in one sentence.

2. Texas has it's own special Bud light bottle with some sort of Texas star business instead of the usual eagle. That's right, folks, Texas is so great it gets its own BEER BOTTLE!

3. There's nothing that will add more excitement to your day then hearing, "Now when we drive down this back road to get to the job site, the guy that lives on one of the ranches is a little crazy, and somtimes he comes out and chases us down with his shotgun. If that happens, just stay in your car. We'll keep driving, and he shouldn't shoot."

And they were serious.

Things That Drive Me Crazy

Everybody has their pet peeves.  For some people, it's important things, like "people who don't tip" or "people who chew loudly" or "people who don't use their turn signals when they specifically know you're trying to follow them to an unknown destination."  Oh, wait, that last one's definitely one of mine.

But I also have one really weird pet peeve.  It's the stupidest thing ever, and yet it bothers me.  A lot.

I hate it when people use the microwave, stop it before the timer is done, and then they DON'T HIT THE BUTTON TO CLEAR THE DISPLAY.

What if I want to know what time it is?  I look at the microwave display, and instead of giving me useful information it's blinking 00:23.  Or, what if I want to cook something?  I have to clear it out myself first.

This is not a new thing.  This has been on my list of top pet peeves for many years.  I once didn't speak to my roommate for two days because she had repeatedly left the microwave timer un-cleared.  Only, it was such a dumb reason to be angry that I never told her why I was so upset and in fact, I'm not all that sure she even noticed I wasn't speaking to her.

But what makes it worse is the microwave in our new rental house.  It has some sort of fancy vent that pops open whenever the microwave is in use.  Or, in other words, any time the microwave timer is on, this vent bit thingie is sticking out.  Which means that if you don't clear the timer after your food is done, the vent bit thingie will continue to stick out indefinitely.

So now I don't know what time it is AND the vent is open for no useful reason.  *sigh*

Elk Jerky

I was sitting at my desk the other day, when one of my colleagues stopped by and said he had brought me something.

He then set an object down on my desk that vaguely resembled a collection of small dog poops, saran-wrapped and vacuum sealed.

I eyed it with a mixture of fear, confusion, and disgust.

"What is it?"

"It's elk jerky."

The disgust faded, but the confusion remained.

"Elk jerky?"

"Yes, remember when I went elk hunting last season, and you asked me to bring you some elk jerky, but I forgot?  Well, here's your elk jerky."

There was a short pause.  Then the lightbulb clicked.  When he took vacation last year to do some elk hunting I had requested some of the spoils.  It was kind of one of those things, though.  As in, oh yeah you're going fishing, well bring me back some salmon!  and then, later, what!!! you forgot my salmon! when they come back from their fishing trip and want to eat all the salmon themselves.  Only, it was elk.  And I wasn't entirely sure I wanted it in the first place.

"You look a little scared," he said.

"I am a little scared."

"Well, if you don't want it, give it to [our other co-worker] Barney.  He'll eat it."

"Oh noooo," I said, "I'm going to at least try it." I mean, c'mon.  How often do you have the opportunity to taste elk?!

Which is why, at this very moment, I have a vacuum sealed  bag of very genuine elk jerky in my kitchen.  All I have to say is, be careful what you ask for.  You just might get it.