Psychics And Stuff.

We had a psychic lady come to work and we each got to do a 10 minute tarot card reading.  Here is the thing about psychics.  I do not believe they know anything, but I desperately WANT to believe they know things, so I have spent money to see them on occasion.  Sometimes it is pretty impressive, for instance, I saw a psychic guy when I was between jobs, and I had JUST been hired at one job that I did not particularly want, but I needed health insurance.  He said “a new opportunity is going to come up and you need to embrace it”, and a few days later, Embrace called and offered me a job.  Now come on.  Who uses the word “embrace” that frequently?

Then I saw him again and everything he said was generic and not impressive.

But the thing about psychics is that they really, really want me to believe my dead maternal grandmother is hanging around me.  They desperately want this.  Every single one has said “You have a dead person who hangs around you, it’s a grandmother, on your mom’s side”.  That could be one of two people.  My mom’s actual mom, who deserted her kids when my mom was 3 and I never even met;  or the person who raised my mom whose parting words to my mom before she died were “I’m going to hell for the way I treated you, aren’t I?”  The only encounter I ever had with her was at someone’s funeral when she told my mom she had some ailment (I thought it was a gall bladder issue, but I don’t know for sure) and my mom said “Oh, I had that, it’s awful, I’m sorry” and then “grandma” grabbed me by the arm when my mom walked away and hissed something at me about my mom being self absorbed or selfish or something.  I was maybe 10 at the time, so at this point, the details are very vague.  All I know is:  a) arm grab was scary and b) hissing something about my mom was rude.  That was my encounter.  Now to some of my cousins, she is legit “grandma” – two of the siblings were treated very nicely, and two were not.  My mom and my Uncle Mike were on the “not” list.  No judgement, but what I am saying is that there is no way in hell either one of those women is hanging around me “keeping an eye on me and helping me in life”.

I desperately want my dead person to be Catharine, of course.  All I want is for a psychic to say to me “There’s a dead girl hanging around you” and then describe Catharine.  It has been 12 years since Catharine died and I am not exaggerating when I say I think about her every single day.  And not fleeting thoughts, either.  You might say I have not “moved on”, even a little bit.

So this last psychic that came to work.  She told me about a dead person hanging around me and guess what – it was grandma.  I said “Are you sure she’s hanging around me and not like, throwing things at me or something?” and she laughed and said “It’s not a perfect thing, let me try again” and she stared at me and she closed her eyes and up to this point, I had said nothing to her.  She laid out tarot cards, I think I picked a card or shuffled or something, but all she knew was my name….which she forgot by the end of the ten minutes anyway.  So she’s staring at me conjuring my dead people and I have lost all hope and she said there was a young lady hanging around, and that she can’t tell exactly what the relationship was but it was very close, and this wasn’t the first lifetime we had been close.  She said this young lady died unexpectedly and did not realize she was dead at first, it was that sudden.  She said that this person is intricately connected to me and remains a part of me, and that she thinks she’s in her 20’s.

Catharine and I always said we were soul mates, and that we had clearly been together in various forms throughout past lives.  That we had “one brain, one heart, three kidneys (four if you include her original dead one that was still shriveled up floating somewhere in her body), and one pancreas”.  Our friendship was instant and as natural as if we had grown up together.  I have never had the sense of knowing someone without ever asking like I did with Catharine.  She died when she was 27, and I would say it is accurate that she is and was intricately connected to me.

Prior to me going to my ten minute session with this lady, people came out of the room crying, talking about dead relatives and stuff.  I am not an emotional person and I do not cry.  I did not cry at this description of what was clearly Catharine hanging around me, but my eyes got watery and I said “REALLY??”  The psychic lady said that this person thinks it’s pretty funny when random things happen to me and that she has a hand in that – whether it is something as simple as misplacing keys and finding them in my hand, or something like me randomly walking in to Joshua Bell’s rehearsal and no one stopping me (she did not reference that incident specifically, she just said “bigger things that might not happen on a regular basis”).

She also said that my recent past shows a lot of deceit and deception (hello, AJ) and that is over and will not come back.  I am not sure if that means it is safe to stop circling the parking lot at the grocery store before I go in, to make sure AJ is not there, or if it just means I should still circle, but I will not run into him?  Anyway, she said I am going to meet someone who is the opposite of that and who values honesty and “quite frankly, unfiltered truth” as much as I do.  I like to think of myself as straight forward, but “unfiltered truth” also works.  But, I said, I do not date.  She said this does not have to be a romantic person, just a person.  I said ok.

That was the end of my ten minute psychic session.

Back when Catharine died, I went to see an “Indian spirit guide” who also told me that Catharine did not realize she was dead when she died.  I do not know if this is a common thing to say when young people die, or what, but I thought that was interesting.

Here is one of my favorite pictures of me and Catharine:

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Here is a picture of me and Mr. Meow Meow:


And here are pictures of me and Embrace’s foster kitty, Eve.  Her brother is Adam.

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The World’s Tallest Bed And Me.

I went to see Joshua Bell in Buffalo, because that is what I do.  Normally he is all over the world, but recently he has been within 4 hours of me 4 times!

My hotel room was very nice, it was at the hotel where they give you cookies and also it was a Pokestop.  Can’t go wrong with that.  The bed, though, was four feet off the ground. No exaggeration.  It was the tallest bed I have ever seen.  I could not get on this bed without significant maneuvering.  I tried jumping, lifting my leg up and hurling it onto the mattress – and then I thought, this needs to be shared with the world, how could I keep this to myself?  So here you go:

Now the important part.  The concert.  Even though it was called A Night With Joshua Bell, the first half did not have Joshua Bell in it.  I preferred the second half, which Joshua Bell was in.

During intermission, the guy behind me started talking to me.  He looked like Gomez Addams. JUST LIKE HIM.  I do not like being talked to by people, but he was trying to be nice, so I smiled and nodded.

The concert was beyond words.  He played a violin concerto by Bruch, and then Ladies in Lavender.  I still get a little excited when he says he is going to play something from a movie, hoping it will be 503 from Angels and Demons.  I will not stop hoping.

Before going into the concert I asked a girl who was promoting the Buffalo Orchestra if JB would be signing autographs afterwards.  She said no, there is an opening night gala.  I did not know what to say, so I shoved my wrist at her.  The wrist with his signature tattooed on it.  The SECOND I did this, I wanted to say, on her behalf, “Dumbass, he still isn’t coming out” because I immediately realized what an ass move that was.

I was not deterred, I just figured I would “blend” afterwards and either walk into the gala and see what happens, or hang out in the lobby – I mean, he has to come out at some point, right?  I did not have the foresight to think, what exactly do I think I am going to do when he DOES come out and there I am, standing there.  I started to think I might have crossed the creepy line just by thinking this.

So concert is over, and I linger in the lobby.  Everyone goes over to the gala and I realize the flaw in my plan – I am wearing the usual, jeans and a tee shirt, and everyone else is wearing ball gowns.  Sneaking in and blending was not an option. Also, blue hair.  I hung out in the lobby until there was no one left in the lobby except for a few ushers cleaning up and a security guy.  A lady said to me “Are you waiting for a ride?”  and in that split second, I planned to lie. But I am physically incapable of lying so instead I said “Actually, I was hoping to stand here and not have anyone notice me and maybe I could see Joshua Bell when he leaves.”  She said “He’s not going to come out these doors.” I said “Oh”, but I didn’t move.

Several uncomfortable minutes later, Larisa Martinez came out of the gala room.  I waved, and she came over.  Here is my thing – I felt horrible when I met her in Chautauqua, in some weird feminist way that I cannot exactly describe.  I was so entranced with JB, I felt like I treated her like “the girlfriend” and not her own person.  Then when I found out that her own person was someone whose singing I really enjoyed, I felt even worse.  In light of that, and to kind of redeem myself and say “I swear I don’t ignore women and assume the man is the successful one”, I sent her a message on Facebook, apologizing if I came across like a jerk.  I didn’t expect her to respond, and she didn’t.  But in Buffalo, she came right over and said “I got your Facebook message, don’t worry, you weren’t rude at all!” and I basically then gushed “THANK YOU SO MUCH BECAUSE I FELT SO BAD AND YOU ARE A PERSON TOO”.  We chatted for a minute, and then she went to wherever she was going.  A minute later she walked by me again and said “It was good seeing you, have a good night!” and I thought a lot of thoughts.  I thought, well, I think that was my queue to leave, I’m starting to look creepy.  Then I thought, if SHE came out that door, maybe HE would come out that door.  But panic won, and I started to leave.  Luckily I get easily confused by locked doors, and kept trying to leave out of a door that was locked.  I heard “Hey wait!” and I turned around and died.

Larisa brought Joshua Bell out JUST TO SEE ME.  We were the only ones in the lobby and it was JUST FOR ME!  She said “Why were you leaving after you waited so long?” and I legit said “I was really starting to feel creepy and I didn’t know what to do, and I swear I’m harmless, I just, oh my god, seeing you live, it’s just, I can’t even, it’s so….” and JB shook my hand and did the whole “I know I should know you but…” and HE WAS JUST SO NICE and he asked where exactly I live, because I keep showing up in different places, and I said Cleveland, but I’ll drive 4 or 5 hours to wherever he is.  He was impressed by that.  After another minute, in which I did not ask any of the follow up questions I had, I decided I must be wasting his time, and I said “THANK YOU SO MUCH IT WAS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AND YOU ARE SO NICE TO COME OUT AND YOU WERE SO NICE TO GO GET HIM” and I kind of turned around and ran.  Oh and somehow I fit in there “I’m going to see Green Day in Detroit next weekend!” which did not impress him, and also Green Day was postponed.

I have no pictures at all, just the bed video, and I really think that is quite enough.

Here is my cat, though.


Darcy J, Catnapper Extraordinaire.

Have you ever looked a word for a really long time and just thought, that is not really a word?  You KNOW it is a word, but the more you stare at it, or say it, the less you believe it is a real word.  I just did that with the word bank.

So anyway, a few nights ago I heard a cat meowing in a backyard a few houses away from mine.  It wasn’t just like “meow”, it was a howl meow like Mr. Meow Meow makes when it is the middle of the night and he wants me to play.  He yowls, and then he brings his toy up to my room and puts it on me.  I wake up to a toy on me every day.  I love my cat.

But this other cat, I opened the porch window and I said “Kitty!” and the meow got closer.  I kept saying “Kitty” and I saw a shadow (it was dark out) on the other side of the fence in my neighbor’s yard.  Then the shadow/kitty came to the fence door (it’s not called a door, what is it? I mean, it’s a door, and it’s a fence, but I swear there’s another word for it), and he climbed the fence and came right up to the porch window.  The wall part of the porch comes up to my waist, and then from there it is screen windows with a glass part that slides open.  So I slid open the screen, bent over the wall part, and picked up the kitty and brought him in the porch.  He was perfectly happy to come in, and he was very cute.


My neighborhood has a Facebook group, so I posted his picture, and soon enough his owners were found, but it was 1am and they were not answering their phone.  I couldn’t keep the kitty (his name is Frosty) on my porch because he did not care for my cat (who was not on the porch, but was visible through the sliding porch door).  I asked if anyone could take Frosty until his owners could get him, and a lovely fellow night owl down the street said she could. Her name is Bobbi.  That is important for later. Frosty’s owners got him in the morning and all is well.

Then last night I was driving home around midnight and saw a tiny kitty.  I stopped and the kitty came right up to me and got in my car, so I drove her home with me and walked out to say hi to my mom on the porch and said “I found another cat”.  This kitty REALLY did not like Mr. Meow Meow, so we had to make all kinds of barricades so that we could go in and out of the porch without them sneaking.  I posted this kitty in my neighborhood group, too, and at 6am someone said “That’s my kitty” and texted me.  I was not awake at 6am but the text woke me up and he asked where I live so he can come get her.  I told him, and I told my dad “Dude is coming for kitty” and then I went back to sleep.  My dad said the guy was very nice, and said the kitty does not go outside, she stays inside, but sometimes he takes her for walks and she follows right along with him.  So the guy took the kitty and walked her home and my dad watched them the whole way down the street, and the kitty followed right at his feet.  It turns out this kitty that looks like a baby is 14 years old.


While I was posting about that kitty, someone else posted a picture of a kitty and said “Hey, this guy has been hanging around our house, anyone know him?” and, full circle, Bobbi, the fellow night owl who took Frosty for the night, said “That is my cat!  He ran away in March!”.  The people whose house Kismet is hanging out at (that’s his name, Kismet) said they have a dog who will eat Kismet, and can’t hang on to him.  I said if they can catch him, I will house him until Bobbi gets back from vacation on Friday.  Our first attempt to catch him failed, but now Kismet House People are prepared with cat nip, wet cat food and a carrier, so they are going to keep trying.  My method of “scruff him and put him in a box” did not succeed.


They finally caught Kismet, and I brought him to work and everyone LOVED him.  He loved everyone.  He loved Hoenir, the dog.

Kismet and Hoenir 1

Kismet and Hoenir 2

Kismet had a happy reunion with his family, and his very own dog, Jack.

There you go.  My cat adventures.  It makes me nervous and causes me stress, but I am glad that so far each kitty has been returned home.  It also makes Mr. Meow Meow nervous and causes him stress.



Paul Schaffer Infuriates Me.

Everyone is posting this video of Miley Cyrus singing Silent Night and saying this proves she is talented and has a lovely voice.  I disagree.  I do not think it is that great.  I think it is a slutty girl singing with the voice of a 50 year old chain smoking diner waitress while wearing a slutty santa outfit.  And you know what I hate even more?  Paul Schaffer playing the piano.  That guy just makes me angry.  I hate looking at him.  I hate that everything he does is so exaggerated and dramatic when really, playing Silent Night on the piano does not involve that much movement and drama.  I hate him.  I have always hated him and his tiny little arrogant face and one time I watched the David Letterman show tape live and I hated him live, too.  He is the living version of a vague Facebook post.  He just wants attention and so he is all movey and dramatic when he plays stupid things on his stupid piano.  There is NO NEED to move that much.  NONE.

So there you have it, a whore and a drama queen singing a shitty rendition of Silent Night.  Enjoy.

I spend a lot of my money on Squishables.  I enjoy them immensely and the other night I had a photo shoot with them. Here is the best picture from that photo shoot.  It took me 20 minutes to set them up and get a good angle and lighting.  I think I still could have done better, but after 20 minutes I thought that was a good time limit for playing with my stuffed animals, and then I just squished each of them and put them back on the chair.


My dad has developed a sudden and very violent allergy to my cat.  He coughs A LOT.  We have tried to do things to give him a cat free environment, and we put an air purifier in the living room, and we drug him up with lots of things, and none of it works.  Since he developed this coughing thing, my cat decided it would be good to sleep in my dad’s chair every night.  I tried blocking it so Mr. Meow Meow would not sleep there, but he did, anyway.  He squished himself in the teeny bit that was not covered.


We also shut the doors to the living room, which is very sad because Mr. Meow Meow generally sits on my dad’s lap all day and watches cowboy movies and Judge Judy with him.  It is a very important part of my cat’s day.  My dad felt bad and let him in the room and this is how I found them:


You see, a paper towel is scientifically proven to prevent cat allergies.

I am currently waiting for my mom to wake up so I can take the garbage out.  I am scared of the dark and I refuse to go out there by myself so she stands at the top of the driveway and makes fun of me while I take the garbage down, and says things like “What do you expect me to do if someone DOES kidnap you?  Do you think I can fend them off?” and the answer is no.  No I do not.  I am not scared of being kidnapped, I am scared of monsters and everyone knows that monsters will not attack if you are with someone else, so having my mom shouting at me from the top of the driveway is enough to fend off monsters.  I can handle the kidnappers on my own.  After half an hour with me, they would return me, I am very confident of that. That is all a lie.  I cannot handle kidnappers and I am scared of them as well.  I could not  even pull off that joke for two minutes – I sat here staring at it for maybe 30 seconds and then I had to type that I was lying.

We are having a thing at work, I will explain that in another post, but I had to decorate a paper stocking, and I decided to make a Hufflepuff stocking, as I am a proud member of the Hufflepuff house.  I did this all freehand and was incredibly impressed with myself, and I thought, you know what this needs?  Glitter.  And then I put glitter on it and ruined the whole thing and now it looks like crap.  Try to imagine it without the glitter.


Toilet Paper

Whoa dude, it has been one long ass time since I posted anything, right?  The thing is, I only post when I am angry, annoyed, inspired by something….or my parents have done something especially insane.  So it has been pretty boring lately?  Not really, but just not interesting enough to post, I guess.  I have some new quotes (see the quotes section), and the thing that inspired today’s post – parental videos.  

Specifically, my parents have gone insane over toilet paper.  

Oh but wait, before I do that, I have to say that I am really annoyed at Jenny McCarthy…again.  She convinced a bunch of mindless people that vaccines cause autism, right?  Then she is on her reality show, which I only watch because Donnie Wahlberg, and she is handling raw chicken – just putting her hands all the hell over that stuff – and then she touched her phone, her computer, HER MOUTH, and basically everything in her kitchen.  So she is totally ok with contaminating her family with raw chicken germs, but not ok with vaccinating them.  I never thought she was a smart person, but, just ew.  That is gross.  I wash my hands after looking at raw chicken, and then periodically during the chicken cooking process and then after I have eaten the freaking chicken.  

Ok but then my parents are crazy. 

Then, there is the only time my dad used the F-Bomb.  Not in the video.  The video is just my mom telling the story about my dad dropping the F-Bomb about toilet paper. 

And last but not least, the science behind everything. 

I hate it when Artie on Glee raps. 

My dad hid my water bottle in the back of the refrigerator, and strategically placed a bunch of stuff in front of it.  When I said “Where is my water bottle” he said “It’s in the refrigerator” and it took me five minutes to find it.  I said “You did that on purpose”.  He said “There’s too much stuff in there, you can’t find anything, there’s nowhere to put anything”.  I could probably link to about ten posts where I have discussed my dad’s insanity about the refrigerator and freezer being too full.  The thing is, they are not full.  There is plenty of room.  I have about 6 bottles of flavored water and that is enough to drive him insane.  Then I have my water bottle that is refillable.  That is the one he hid. 

The thing about my parents is that if you are not actively using something AT THAT MOMENT, they think it needs to be thrown out.  My mom even made an entire “cleaning system” based on this.  I am totally serious.  Back in the 80’s – the very early 80’s – she was on tv and everything for “Maureen’s Method”.  People purchased it.  The number one thing was if you have not used something in a year, you get rid of it.  I am not by any means a hoarder, I do not have a lot of things, but I have things that I have not used in a year and still want to keep!  I do not actively read every book I own, but that does not mean I will not want to reread a book in a year or two.  Plus, it is physically impossible to read like, 800 books at one time.  It just is.  It is impossible.  So I am not going to just get rid of everything, that is crazy.  

I made scrambled eggs for a dog we were dog sitting, and she did not eat them.  I put them in the fridge.  My mom said “You’re never going to use those” and I said “Yes I am” and she said “You aren’t, you are going to put them in there and they will just sit there, either use them or throw them out”.  So I threw out a giant plate of scrambled eggs.  A few hours later, it was time for the dog to eat again, so I made new scrambled eggs.  I said “It sure would be nice if I had leftover eggs to microwave” and my mom insisted that she never said that and the incident never happened and that I just went crazy and threw out eggs.  

My dad enforces the “not actively using something at that moment” ideal by taking things like coffee cups 3/4 full that you were drinking but set down for a minute because you do not chug coffee, and he takes them and puts them in the dishwasher.  You made the mistake of not actively drinking that coffee.  He has done that to people at parties and gatherings of all sorts.  

My cat is adorable. 


This cat is also super cute, and he is up for adoption!  You may adopt him, just comment here and I will tell you how.