Owtch.

I don't know if it is runoff from Hurricane Gustav or what. All I can say is, ow. :P

Oh my!

So here I am, staying home from work today because I feel like crap. Should make for a quiet day, right?

HAH. This is Casa Zen-Samoa we're talking about here. After having called off and crawled back in bed to suck my thumb, I woke up about 10 and checked my voicemail. There was one. "Curse you people!", I thought, thinking it was work.

It was not. It was a long, rambling message from someone named "Marsha". I know no Marsha, so I knew it had to be a wrong number, but the content of the message was rather disturbing. She seemed to be whispering, and she was concerned that someone named "John" was going to do her harm. This was quite enough for ol' Zen to get on the horn to the non-emergency number of the police department. Since my caller ID coughed up the number she was calling from, they were able to trace Marsha's whereabouts. Seems, in the end, that Marsha was in a place of safety, and was attempting to call relatives from thence. She was admonishing them not to advise John of her whereabouts.

So, all's well that ends well. But good Lord, it's not even noon!

Keep-a-Bunch update

Tricia and I were in Keep-a-Bunch again yesterday. Lancelot the manager waited on us himself. No sign of Hagula, nor has there been for quite some time. I think Hagula might have hagged herself right onto the unemployment lines. >:)

Now, the poignant part. Keep-a-Bunch receipts have the cashier's full name printed on the bottom, I assume for inventory control purposes. I happened to glance at ours, and saw that Lancelot had a rather unusual last name, one that I recognized but couldn't remember why. So, I went home and Googled. I learned, thus, that I remembered the name because Lancelot had been in the papers some years back. He was a Bugpit Police officer, who was fired over an incident that let's just say, I'm not sure I entirely believe the complainants' version of events. So now he's apparently working at Keep-a-Bunch. :(

I just have this to say. Officer Lancelot, whether you did it or didn't do it, you were kind to a mentally disabled woman and her caregiver, and stood up for us. Ceiling Cat won't forget that. Best wishes to you.

Owwwch

Some observations.

1) Grendel and her transwoman friends are insane. Why would anyone WANT a uterus?

2) Someday, I will hunt down the people who started pushing the idea that there was no reason a woman would be incapacitated during their period and do horrible things to them. Then I'll eat three bags of cherry sours.

3) C'monnnnn menopause!!!

Cake Wrecks

Is evil. Yes, the insane cakes are amusing. But all I can think of is how much I would like to eat them. Caroline's getting thisclose to having a cheesy bakery cake, just so I can eat it. CAAAKKKKE. (Well, I guess I am the Zen of Cake, after all...) Chocolate, spice or red velvet?

Caltrate anyone?

Since Thursday, we have had TWO of our seven residents break one or another of their bones. In completely unrelated events. And completely unrelated parts of the body. Did I mention the paperwork that comes when residents injure themselves in a fairly serious manner such as this?

I swear I'm going to start grinding up calcium supplements and slipping them into their food.

A walk to remember, Zen-style

So there Mr. Samoa and I are, taking Buster the Wonder Dog and Pumpkin for a walk. I'm sick of the cheesy dog pseudonyms, so the other DD will from now on be referred to as Pepper, because, well, that's his name.

Pepper is an outside only dog, while the other two are indoor. (IknowiknowiKNOW about the outdoor dog thing. It was either that or send him to an uncertain fate at the pound, because he completely destroys the house if he's in.) He got a new tie-out chain today. Which Mr. Samoa apparently hadn't fastened securely. We learned this on the last leg of our walk around the block.

We were getting ready to go back down into our yard when we heard the clink of license tags. "Oh," we thought. "Someone else is walking their dogs also!" I turned around to look, and saw a small dog proceeding towards us. "Must be the neighbors' dog," I thought. "But theirs don't look like that..." My thoughts trailed off when the dog got closer, and I realized that it looked very much like Pepper. This was because it was Pepper. He had worked his collar through the latch somehow, and decided to join us on our nightly walk. :P Fortunately we weren't far from home, so Mr. Samoa was able to lead him home by his collar and securely reattach him. Good thing he's not a bolter! :P