ugh, i'm cursed

So, no less than 3 hours after posting that, my mom calls to tell me that one of her cats got hit by a car and she's not sure if it is going to live. Gah!

It is of course the cat she got for me when I lived by myself in Austin, a friend for AJ.

poor Lucy.

Cats and daytime television

OK I'll admit it, I've done a lot of channel surfing over my break. I have worked on very very very little school stuff and not nearly as much housework as I would have liked, but whatever.

So, I'm watching yet another episode of What Not to Wear (god, some one nominate me! I want $5,000 to spend on clothes) and they keep showing all these commercials about cats, cat food, kittens, etc. etc. And I watch them and feel NOTHING. I just don't understand how I can be so dog obsessed and honestly I like lots of animals, hell I'm a Krupa, I have to like them. But I see these people preparing plates of food for their cats (with fucking PARSLEY!!) and all I can think is what a waste of time. One commercial actually said, "I love how special he makes me feel." talking about her cat. How does a cat express that? By glaring at you from across the room.... by shitting in your favorite potted plant in the living room?

I can't jump on the cat bandwagon. I just can't. I know there are a ton of disgusting habits that my dogs have, but I can at least yell at a dog for being gross and get a reaction out of him. Try yelling at a cat and all it does is that stupid back arching stretch equivalent to a big fat middle finger. I guess that's why I don't like cats. They are like that kid in class who is soooo bad and all you want to do is make him/her cry, but you get NOTHING. Why bother?

And why is it cats are always associated with chicks? All of these commercials are of mid-thirties women adoring their cats and apparently having enough time/money to prepare their little demons a feast of salmon with a side of ornamental greenery served on a fine china plate. I saw a book in Barnes and Noble called something like What you can tell about a woman by her cat. The book's counterpart was What you can tell about a man by his dog.

Am I less of a woman because I don't like cats? Because the thought of them rummaging through their litter boxes and then walking across the kitchen counter makes me want to vomit? Because I don't appreciate being randomly attacked and mauled when I try to pet my animals? Because I need the tail wagging approval of my puppies telling me, "Good throw! Let's do it again!" when we play?

eh, whatever.

hmm...

I make myself laugh more than I should admit to.

Pretentious is...

blocking the whole milk case to argue with your boyfriend with his cashmere scarf about which type of organic milk to buy. You vote for the carton because you can "taste the plastic" of the jug.

jerk.

by the way, i saw your crack when you bent over to inspect the milk, it was hairy and i didn't like it. Low rise jeans are for women, not men.

Getting old and feeling accomplished

First off, there is no reason why the things I'm about to tell you about should be in the same post, but I'm lazy. So, pretend that I wrote one the other day and then wrote another one today.

John and I have a new game called "You know how I know we're old?" very similar to "You know how I know you're gay?" from 40 year old virgin (WATCH IT JAMIE! Then give it back, i want to watch it again!). I don't know when 25 became the new 65, but I sure feel like a senior citizen these days. Granted I will be 26 in a very short time, but still, I shouldn't be thinking things like Ohhh, it's almost 10pm I'd better get up stairs and get to bed... but first let me turn on the news to check the weather. WTF? Forget turning into my mother, I've turned into my Nana! And then there's the short term memory loss. For example, I had planned on writing about another example of how old I am, but now I've forgotten....

Oh! I've got it, I'm suddenly becoming paranoid. I caught myself nearly running to my car and jumping in and locking the doors to avoid an unseen monster in the parking lot at school the other evening. And we all know I don't work in a bad neighborhood. I'm constantly worried about the door being locked...like it really matters, we have a glass door. I can see the "bad guys" now. Arg (cause they are pirates) There's that girl all alone sitting on her couch watching CSI again, let's bust in there and attack her and steal all of her maxed out credit cards!!!! [then they try the locked door] Damn! foiled again! If only we had the strength or smarts to get through this tricky glass....

Part 2:

Sometimes I feel like maybe.. just maybe... I'm a good teacher. There's this cute as hell boy in my class, stocky little thing who will interrupt the lesson to say "Hey Miss Krupa... I'm a funny guy right??" Yes little A, you are. The kinda kid who could take out my whole class in an instant football style, but he's got three sisters, so he's really the most sensitive creature in the world. Everytime he gets his feelings hurt, he cries and I have to buy him a pony.

Well, when he first came to school, he knew only a few letters, not even all of the ones in his name (he only has 6 letters) and one letter sound. I was scared at the parent teacher conference because it was the first conference where I couldn't BS my way through it by saying oh yeah, he's doing fine... just keep reading. This kid needed help. I planned for the worst, I mean, he's got 4 kids in his family, not sure how active the parents are etc. but it went well, his parents (yes, both mom and dad showed up) assured me that they would use the info I gave them and help him each day. So, here we are, 2 and a half months later, he's recognizing sight words, knows his letters AND sounds, can put sounds together and break them apart etc. etc. etc. He's one of the most inquisitive kids in the bunch. Today it dawned on me that, no, it isn't only because of me that he is successful, but it is partly because of me...and with that I will sleep well tonight.

Laughing at my own jokes

Sometimes, really stupid things pop into my head. They generally run away as quickly as they come. Not anymore though. I've set a trap for those funny little bastards. It is called "writing them down." Pretty good huh?

Anyway, here are a couple of them:

As I was washing my hands the other day, the phrase "whore's breath" flashed in my mind. Awesome! I don't know how to use it, but I like to just say it and laugh. Like when I stub my toe, rather than yelling "ahhh crap!" I can now yell, "whore's breath!" It works.

Then on Friday night we went to eat and I saw Fratty McFratGuy carrying out his illegitimate bastard crying child and turned to John and told him that the guy looked like a baby dropper. Think about it... there are certain people in this world and all it takes is a glimpse into their lives to see them stumbling and dropping babies.

Put those little nuggets in your pocket and feel free to use them. Just don't forget where you got them when you're suddenly the funniest guy/gal in the room and everyone is laughing with you.

Life should include somethings

I paid a lot of money for my car. I am still paying. This month will mark the half way point of my six year loan. I paid nearly as much for my car as I did for my college education. Which brings me to (a lot of debt) my point: life should come with certain things. I'm not saying that I should be given a car, a monstrosity (is that a real word?) of a house, but the fact that I have to buy new tires for this car just PISSES me off! Sure, I have over 66k miles on the tires that are on the car, but damnit. Hello?? Didn't that come included in the purchase price?? It isn't like I can live with out these tires. I NEED them. I'm currently working on my 3rd week of driving around with out a spare. The "spare" is on the car and the 4th wheel is sitting in the garage with a big fat screw in it. The tires are as bald as my brother's head. Meaning, there is some tread (hair) there, but not enough to matter so I might as well just shave the tires like he shaves his head.

With my road rage, I need quality tires. Just this morning, I peeled out, squealed the tires and almost flipped the car and that was with in two blocks of the house.

**side note to the bastard who would NOT scoot his car 4 inches up so I could fit by him and make it into the turning lane - I sat and watched the turn light change to green and then had to sit and wait...and wait... and give the death stare to you, bastard man, in your side mirror... proceed to throwing hands up, yelling and eventual getting to move forward. I had no choice but to then drive like an asshole to make up for 30 seconds of travel time lost. I HATE YOU! I NEARLY DIED AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN YOUR FAULT!

So, I will leave work right after school tomorrow and head to discount tire. Pay $500 + for new tires, but I will not agree with the process. Until this world changes into a place where things "make sense," people will continue to participate in this sham not because we support the issue, but because we have no choice.

FYI The only other thing that I feel should be on the list of items I feel we shouldn't honestly have to pay for: Tampons.

How I know I'm a jerk

I buy "special" treats for my dogs every once in a while. Then I hold them for days. Waiting for that "perfect" time to give it to them. Waiting... and waiting... until they will appreciate it the most. I don't like to give them their "special" treats when I'm not around because I want to watch them enjoy it and make it known that I am the reason they get to enjoy this precious sizzlin' bacon flavored goodness. I talk to them while they eat these treats, half expecting them to turn around and say "Damn, Jennifer, this is one great treat! It really does taste like bacon! Thanks so much!" But alas, they don't.

So, their special treats this time were these bones with a handle that makes it easier for the dogs to chew on. SWEAR TO GOD! It's got a footrest on it that props it right up to their little (ok not so little) puppy snouts. AJ has had these before and loves them, but this is Kirby's first.

Here's where crazy kicks in. I bought them on Saturday. It is now Tuesday evening and the dogs just got them. It isn't like these things are rare. I got them from HEB and they have them at Wal-Mart (though they are $2 cheaper at HEB). But, I wanted to wait until I charged my camera battery so I could photograph Kirby eating his first ever foot rest treat. Sadly, I never charged the camera and I realized I was going insane so I broke down and let the dogs have them. But not so easily. I talked to them about the treats for a good five minutes. Then cut a tiny hole in the package and waved the bacon-y scent in their faces for a couple more minutes, until they each had a nice long cord of drool coming out of each corner of their mouths. Finally, sweet relief....

three minutes later, AJ's is gone and now he's trying to kill Kirby to get his bone.

brats.

moral of the story: They are f-ing dog bones.

life's not complete without puppy pics

Sorry

I realize that the color of font I used previously is awful. I will not use it again.

This is my promise to you.

Left out

Ok well everyone and their mother has a blog, but not me. I'm a follower. This is how I got seriously addicted to myspace. Everyone else is doing it, why shouldn't I? You (meaning "everyone else") little punks should definitely NOT start shooting up heroine... cause I bet you can all tell where I'd end up in a couple of months.

The real reason for starting this is because I am bored out of my mind. I haven't been to school in 2 days. Yesterday I was sick and today, I assumed I would still be sick. Luckily I've gone 21 hours with out vomiting mmm.... way to gross out people on your first blog entry. Good job!

We had teacher in-service on Monday and Tuesday and now I've been out for 2 days. I haven't seen my kids in a week! Yikes! Lord knows what sort of impact that will have on their poor little decrepid souls. Surely it will be devistating. Hopefully they won't be scarred for life.

I mean, I'm a humble person and all *ha* but when I told the kids I would be leaving one afternoon for a dr. appt. They started crying. Ok so one of them started crying, but still... once one of them starts... they ALL start... just like with myspace and blogging.... and heroine. YIKES! I'd better get back to school ASAP!