Home Alone

I was going to use the Macaulay Culkin picture that everyone associates with this flick. But I think John Hughes was really recreating this famous painting by Edvard Munch. So why was I striking this particular pose? Hubby is back home after three weeks on the road. And that requires an adjustment on my part.

Gone are the days of the after-work nap which was just before the popcorn and cereal dinner. Dishes were left in the kitchen sink, sometimes for days. The cat box didn't get cleaned regularly (but regularly enough that the cat didn't move out). The mail piled up. In other words, I lived like a guy. It was glorious and now it is over.

The art you see above is my reaction as the garage door went up and my less-than-stellar lifestyle ended. I'm not home alone anymore. Now we play by the rules of marriage where everyone picks up after themselves and no one behaves like a savage. Ugh. I don't want to be a slob every day, but I really do enjoy being the ugly homeowner every now and then.

Now it's over. Now I have to behave again.

March Sadness

Pitt lost and blew up my Southeast bracket. I didn't see the brilliance of Vandy and Louisville losing in the first (well, officially second) round. It was odd to see Rick Patino as a TV pundit so early in the tournament. In fact I couldn't fathom why he was spouting basketballisms on my TV. Oh, right. Morehead State. Sorry 'bout that.

Every year we do brackets in my department at work. I submit two entries: me and the cat. The cat is currently beating me (and a number of my colleagues).

There is no science to how we choose our teams. This year I did mine before a meeting and kept interrupting to ask for opinions. "Duke or Texas?" "Xavier or Marquette? It's like a battle of the Jesuit Catholic colleges." Fortunately they ignored me, which is nothing new if you've been to our meetings.

The cat decided that the NCAA selection committee was omniscient. He picked by seed and the results have been decent. In prior years he picked by mascot, focusing on bird and cat mascots. That didn't go so well but thinking about the birds had him salivating. He didn't pick Richmond either, mostly because their mascot is a spider. (Not as delicious as a bird.)

Last year the person in our department who knew the least about basketball won it all. Another year someone chose the winning bracket using strictly school colors. "Let's see. You can't have two blue and whites playing for the final. Let's put a red and white in there." This confirms that basketball knowledge has nothing to do with bracketology. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. And that's what makes it fun. Until my Southeast bracket blows up and that makes me grumpy.

Trip to the Vet

Cat in carrier, the one with the jail-like bars over the door, on the way to vet.

MJ the Cat: meowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeow

Translation: I'm being repressed! This is an outrage! I will poop in your shoes as soon as we get home! How dare you confine me in such a way! I have PETA on speed dial!

Once at the vet MJ goes silent.

What he says: nothing.

Translation: Hey, I'm kinda liking this little cottage. The wire door is adorable. Just gonna cozy up back in the corner here. You can't see me if I can't see you, right? No need for me to get out. Forget what I was saying before.

It takes two humans to extract one cat out of the now comfortable abode.

Lesson learned: None. It happens all over again, verbatum, on a subsequent trip to the vet three days later.

Don't get me started on what it took to adminster his medicine. Scarring (mine) was the result.