My Total Bitchification

She looks how I feel.

Did you ever have one of those days? Can't quite put your finger on what's wrong, but something is. And you are mad.

I woke up surly. At 8 AM, even my hair was surly. Well, shit.

My usually adorable and well mannered dogs, Harry and Honey have been evil bastards all day, barking for no reason and fighting over toys. My stupid cat, Smokey, pooped on the bed again. I threw out the litter he doesn't like and gave him the kind he does like and still he shits on the bed? Give me a break!

I had to go buy another stupid kitty litter box for the little cat I have kidnapped and stuck in the bathroom to take him or her to get mutilated tomorrow. The little cat isn't happy. Well tough cookies, Pal, I'm not either.

I put the cat in the bathroom that is the one that Alex uses every day to shower. I never even go in there except to clean. Fine. When I stick the cat in there, the door has something wrong and won't close. Great. So I take a piece of cloth and tie it to the doorknob and pull a chair over to hold it in place. I asked Alex "Did you know the door didn't close?" "Oh yeah", says he, from Georgia. Uh, why didn't you say something about it? How long has it been like this? "Oh about 10 years." Now do you see why I feel like smacking him? It used to close just fine. If it's not closing, let's get it fixed Alex.

I left water and 3 jingle bells on the floor for the cat so he can play with them if he gets bored. Hell, he can take a shower if he wants. I really don't care. Now, if I seem cold it's because my leg is hurting and bleeding from where that little son of bitch bit me for the second time today. I am not amused. See if I pay extra for your pain medication after they cut off your balls or your ovaries tomorrow little cat! Hah! Don't get mad, get even.

I have a dear friend who is a very conservative woman. I am a Republican, but not conservative (except when it comes to my money). I'm all for a woman's right to choose, legalizing pot, legalizing prostitution, legalizing gay marriage, public education and the strictest separation of church and state. I am not really pro higher taxes to pay for services that I have never used and never will. Still, I get tired of the President bashing.

I didn't particularly like George W, but I kept my opinion to myself. I voted for Obama, only because I wouldn't vote for Sarah Palin with McCain as old as he is and not in the best of health. Still, I avoid political rants. We all have opinions, but with politics, I'd just rather not go there!

My friend was up in arms over Obama not doing something to stop the disaster in the Gulf. I'm sorry, but what is he supposed to do? Go fix it? If we friggin' knew how to fix it, we would. We don't.

Then there was something about Indian Reservations being Sovereign Nations. Okay. And Indians don't even have to register for the Selective Service. Okay, stop right there. Large numbers of Native Americans enlist for military service and represent the highest per capita enlistment of any ethnic group in the United States. (This is not made up. It's real.)

During WWI, many Native Americans fought in the military, but were not even allowed US citizenship at that time. Irony, much?

Okay, I love my friend, but got really snotty with her over her email. I'm having a bad day. It's one of those days I should just have stayed in bed.

Or maybe I should have a gin and tonic and pick up a truck driver instead.

Is it True Blonds Have More Fun?

I never really noticed how many fantastic looking brunettes there are out there until I went blond.

Seems that every place I look, I see a gorgeous brunette woman. I was brunette for a very long time. I was born with black hair, not dark brown, but black.

Years passed and I was about 40 when my ex-husband (now late ex-husband) gave me a gift certificate for a complete day of pampering, beauty and luxury at the Elizabeth Arden Day Salon in San Francisco. I think I got something like $700 or $800 worth of treatments and services on this visit.

I was a good friend of my ex-husband's wife, but I really never knew how she felt about him gifting me with something so extravagant. Since we are still friends, I doubt she minded that much.

Man oh man, it was a treat! I had the massage, the manicure, the pedicure, the facial, the make up, the hair and a lovely lunch as well. I was talking to the stylist and told her that I had always wished I could go blond just to try it. She said, "Oh, heck, let's do it!" and I was scared but very willing. I had never done anything drastic with my hair in my life before this.

It took several hours to get me to that perfect silvery blond that she thought would be great with my skin tone. (I'm too olive skinned for the more yellow or reddish tones of blond.) By the time the stylist finished, I was feeling very strange about the woman in the mirror. I seriously didn't recognize myself!

Alex was a little disappointed to see me as a blond. He always liked me dark haired. I guess he's gotten used to it over the years. Now I surprise myself when I see old photos of me brunette! Actually, several years ago, we went to a costume party and I went as Elvira. I wore an almost waist length black and silver wig, a very low cut black dress with a very push up bra and I looked pretty damned good if I do say so myself.

People seeing the photos and only knowing me as a blond have said "My God, woman, you should have been a brunette!"

Here I am as a brunette when I was about 35. I don't know. I always wanted to be a blond when I was growing up. I guess you always want what you don't have, huh?

My kids still kid me about being their little illegal immigrant mama. But I look less the part now!

It's so funny that this girl looks so foreign to me. I barely remember who she was, except that she was very wild. This photo was in a photography magazine and the only thing I was wearing was the smile you see!

Believe it or not, it was not a hard core anything. I used my arms and legs to cover anything too personal, so it was definitely rated PG and not R.

This Is Not Turning In To A Cat Blog

Alex is always looking toward the cutting edge; he's just that kind of guy. He found something called Nature's Miracle Cat Litter.

The miracle part I must not really understand but a slight miracle has occurred since we started using this stuff.

First of all, the litter looks kind of like sawdust. It's a weird brown color and strange texture. Also, it does very poorly as far as odor control is concerned.

Since Alex said he paid a lot for it, he insisted that Smokey, our cat, would get used to it. Uh huh.

Yesterday I went to clean the cat litter box. There was NOTHING in it. How queer, I thought. Then I remembered Alex getting up at 3 AM to fly out to Georgia. Silly me thought to myself "Self, Alex must have cleaned the kitty litter before he left for the airport! Wasn't that nice of him?"

Now today, I went in to clean the kitty litter and lo and behold. Nothing in the box but the icky sawdust. I ran to the closet to make sure Smokey was alive and his functions had not shut down. He opened an eye in greeting, but remained otherwise immobile. Smokey is a night time guy, and he almost always sleeps all day.

I was thinking about calling the vet for an emergency appointment when another thought crossed my mind. Could he be going somewhere else? I sniffed the closet where he sleeps and smelled nothing too upsetting.

Then I went to the kids play room. Right on top of the pretty little quilt on the bed is a pile of cat poop! Oh, and on the floor, there are neat little piles of cat poop surrounding the room. Dear God in heaven! Here's the miracle! For the first time in 15 years, Smoke has not used the litter box.

I guess Smoke didn't like that litter either. So he told me in the most direct way he could.

It reminds me of the time I got some weird-assed toilet paper at Walgreens. I swear it was two rolls that would each last a year. The paper itself was a very funny hard texture and it was dense. I think each roll weighed about 5 pounds. Kind of like using a butcher paper for your ablutions. I put the two rolls in the two bathrooms that Alex uses most.

Of course, I got another type of tissue for myself in my two favorite bathrooms. I did notice that the paper in Alex's bathrooms lasted for about 3 years. He never complained. Hmm.

Okay, what was I thinking! Alex would clean the kitty litter pan at 3:00 AM before he flew off to Georgia? Was I smoking crack cocaine?

Blanca or Leo - You Are Getting Fixed!

This is not a picture of Blanca/Leo. I feel I must protect the privacy of the real Blanca or Leo. When you are skinny, homeless and dirty, do you want your photo stuck on somebody's blog?

I think not. The cat in the photo is an internet cat and looks to be in fairly good shape. My Blanca/Leo is not nearly as presentable.

I made an appointment for her/him to be neutered on Friday morning. Blanca or Leo will also get shots on that day. I am taking her/him to the Oakland SPCA where they will do the operation for only $60. Not bad really. I did explain that the kitty is a stray, and I have no current plans to adopt it. Uh huh. Yeah, sure.

I think they charge another $15 for the vaccinations and the cat will probably need three of them. I will bring her/him in and stick him in a bedroom for the night before the the procedure. He or she may not like it, but too bad. I can't go around at 6:30 AM searching for the darned cat.

Oh, and after the operation, I'm going to just stick the cat right back outside on the sidewalk, right? Say, bye now, Blanca or Leo! See you tomorrow for a can of food! Have a good night! Yeah, that's going to happen all right.

I really wasn't planning on another cat. I am a dog person. Why am I messing with this damned skinny blond cat? The cat got all excited yesterday and bit my ankle in his or her exuberance! Nice! Drew blood in fact. Okay, I doubt the cat has Rabies but still.

I'll let you all know if we are dealing with Blanca or with Leo just as soon as a vet tells me. This is all too hard really because Alex is in Georgia probably going to Nudie Bars and having fun and I'm abducting a homeless cat and force sterilizing it while trying to get it to live in my house.

Sometimes I am in awe of my stupidity! (Yeah, this is Blanca, Leo directly below.)

Unveiling The Lie

I recently did a post where I made several claims and one of them was a lie! Not just a lie, a whopper of a lie.

Some of the people who read my post immediately guessed the correct item, but some did not.

I stated that I had breast implants when I was 34. That is not only a lie, but also a laugh because if anything, I might be a candidate for breast reduction surgery. Further, I am totally opposed to tampering with nature.

When I was 14, my nickname in high school was a slang name for breasts followed by my last name. Charming? Not so much. Although I was justified in taking pride in my full bosoms, I really would have preferred a more subtle acknowledgment than having some fool call out "Tits Medrano!" when I walked by.

I have a number of friends and acquaintances who have gone under the knife to have breast implants. I shudder at the idea. Not one of these women have been totally happy with their results. Complaints ranged from uneven breasts, to leaking implants, to follow up surgeries to remove the things.

Americans have a fetish for breasts. It's funny because like the big white chicklet teeth you see in all the movies now, the implanted breasts begin to look comical to me because of their uniformity.

One of the most beautiful women I ever saw was Anne Parillaud, a French actress, who starred in the 1990 film "La Femme Nikita". Ms. Parillaud was a fine actress, and low and behold, there was something so amazingly beautiful about her. First of all, she had small breasts. In Hollywood, this would have been enough to eliminate her from stardom.

Parillaud also had imperfect teeth. There was something about her smile that was heart rending and so real. It took half a roll of film before I realized her beauty was partially because she had real, slightly crooked, normal looking teeth.

If one has a deformity that needs correction, by all means have that work done. But being unique is what makes a person beautiful. I now am in an age group where a lot of my friends are having Botox injections, eye lifts, and such.

Good grief. The Botox injection does not make them look younger. It makes them look frozen and weird. The eye lifts makes the skin around their eyes look slick and a little strange. I am not particularly fascinated with youth. I am very content to be the age I am. Yes, I have lines and sags. For goodness sakes, I'm over 60. Still, I look in the mirror and I am quite happy with what I see. So color me vain!

Friday Confessional (Moved To Saturday)

Since I was too busy yesterday dealing with a messy life, I had to wait until today to do this cherished sacrament.

I want to send a shout out to my girl Glamazon and tell her that I'm sorry I'm late, but being a day late and a dollar short is how I roll!

Today, I'm not just concentrating on my own sins, but on the sins of others as well. (Yeah, I'm being judgmental and that's a big old sin right there, isn't it?) Okay, I never said I was sinless. I may have said on occasion that I was blameless, but that's not really the same thing is it?

* Why are people so up in arms that Miley Cyrus got grown up and sexy? She's 17. That's old enough to have a couple of kids as far as I'm concerned. Every other young lady in the industry is making mega-bucks because they have boobs and show them. Why shouldn't she? Oh, because she's a role model. Excuse me, role models are people like Mother Teresa and Queen Elizabeth or Madonna for goodness sake. If we are showing our kids role models from the entertainment industry, we are badly misleading them.

* Why does Hollywood show scenes of people having sex on the kitchen sink? Or on the kitchen table, for that matter? Now I'm just saying, of all the places in a house to have sex, the kitchen is not up there on my list of top 10 favorites. One scene comes to mind with Michael Douglas and Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction". Right on top of the damned dirty dishes. Excuse me? I'm all for sex in the basement, sex in the garage, sex in the bathroom, sex in the parlor or office, even sex on the front porch, (with the lights out of course), but excuse me, sex in the kitchen is just nasty.

* There was something icky on my facecloth this morning. I don't have a clue what it was. I only know it did not come from me. Unh uh! No way. Now, since only two of us live here, along with our plethora of dogs and cat and fish, who do I get to blame. Nobody, that's who. Alex will look at me with a stupid expression on his face and say, "what did it look like honey?" He must have done it, but he lies. Not all the time, and not well, but he does lie. I cannot shoot him because it would involve time off work for him and God knows we can't afford that. So I'm seething with rage which is probably a sin.

*My neighbor put artificial turf in her back yard. She also put in all these fountains and had the whole area landscaped with plants, flowers, trees, etc. Woman spent a fortune. Makes me mad that someone who has a fortune would put in artificial turf. Again, I am seething with rage, but when she came to ask me to come and see it, I smiled and said "Oh I love it! Gorgeous, truly!" and lied through my little pointy teeth!

* We have a little orange kitty in our neighborhood who Alex has fed a couple of times. He (or she) is just skin and bone. The cat is probably about 5 months old and very friendly. Someone abandoned this cat and I would put that person in prison if it was up to me. The kitty appeared on my front porch yesterday and I fed it and gave it water. I also petted the poor baby. If you can't keep your cat or your dog, take them to the Shelter. Do not leave them to "fend for themselves". Again, this is rage inspiring.

The Green Eyed Monster And Me

It was 1962 and I was almost 16 the first time I realized there was an "us" and a "them".

I was in high school and there was a group of girls who were the "most popular" girls in the school. Many of these girls were cheerleaders, "most likely to succeed" and homecoming queens! (If the truth be told, I was probably voted "Most Likely To Become a Hooker" but that's another story.)

I had friends, I had boyfriends, but I remember feeling very set apart from this group of girls. "Most Popular" didn't exactly mean they had more friends, but it certainly meant they had more money.

I remember hearing the girls talk about the kind of car they were getting for their birthday. And I clearly remember them bragging about using "Mummy's credit card for a shopping spree". Both of these concepts were beyond glamorous to me!

Our family was not "poor" as the label goes. Mom worked hard to support me and my three younger sisters, and my dad kicked in child support. We always had a roof over our heads, food on the table, and we were probably better dressed than a lot of kids in school. (Mom worked for Koret of California, a sportswear manufacturer, and got all of us fantastic clothing for very little money.)

Still, cars for my 16th birthday and "credit card shopping sprees" were pretty unlikely scenarios in my world. For the first time in my life, I felt jealousy and understood there were "haves" and "have nots".

Until then, I think I had been pretty insulated and I figured everybody was just like us. None of my friends were given cars, and nobody's parents handed them credit cards (if they even had credit cards in those days.)

I got through high school without the car or the credit card that I wished I had. I do remember feeling a little deprived since I was not in the group of girls who drove their own cars, and spent money on shopping sprees! (I know, poor me, huh?)

Years passed and the realities of life came down on me as a single mother with 2 babies and no particular work skills. I worked in menial positions to support my kids. I really didn't have time to feel jealousy or much of anything else for that matter!

About 20 years ago, I invited a woman friend to come over and told her I wanted to check out a sale at a very exclusive shop that was closing in my area. My friend said that sounded like fun and so we went to the sale. I think I got a pair of lined wool trousers. My friend went into a frenzy and spent about $4,000 on clothing. I watched as she tried on item after item, some things that didn't even fit her correctly ("oh, I can get this altered" she said) and piled them on the counter. A very slight twinge of the old green eyed monster paid me a visit.

I had to laugh at myself. I was feeling a spot of envy for a woman who was spending money like it was water on things that she would most likely regret buying. I was in a financial position that I could be foolish too if I chose to.

The fact is, I no longer feel like I'm missing out by not shopping frivolously. I've come to value experiences much more than material objects. I have no hesitation spending money on a trip to Italy, but I balk at buying a lot of "stuff" that catches my eye.

Don't get me wrong, the Prada pumps, and the Gucci bag are still calling my name. But the days of 'shopping sprees' are over for me now, unless I'm taking one of my grandchildren. And that is an experience!