Posts Tagged ‘la la la’

***cringe***

Friday, August 27th, 2010

I just got an email from my host that the server upon which this blog resides will “undergo an upgrade onto newer and faster hardware. This will increase performance of the server and ensure continued stability. This transfer will cause an estimated downtime of 4-7 hours.”

New hair

Putting aside the general terror associated with any server related  change (due mostly to an extensive prior history of things hitting the fan or looking like sh*t or ceasing to function altogether after said ‘upgrades’), what really has me baffled (and a bit alarmed) is that the intended date and time for this project is Friday, June 4th at 8pm.

Ummm….

June 4th like 13 weeks ago?

That June 4th?
Or are they giving me notice nine months in advance?

And do they really expect that I’ll remember this in nine days let alone nine months?
And is June 4th even on a Friday in 2001?

(No. No it is not.)
And why is my dog licking the keyboard?

And is dog saliva safe for a keyboard?

So do they mean to say they’re doing this upgrade tonight?

Same new hair, different background

Or that they already did it?

And can I have any faith that things will look as they should in the morning?

And do I really need this added stress?

(No. No, I do not.)

And am I going to do anything further than post this whiney blog and hope for the best and maybe avoid looking at my own site until at least Sunday for fear that I will find an epic disaster that I have pretty much no idea how to fix?

Probably not.

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The Usual Suspects

Wednesday, August 4th, 2010

As I believe you are already aware, I am in charge of three hairy creatures right now, and I am doing a spectacular job. Granted, they can’t speak English or use a keyboard, but I’m pretty sure if they could, they would tell you that I’m basically the Mary Poppins of cat sitting: practically perfect in every way.

Long-hair British Blue

Blueberry. Admittedly, one shouldn't pick favorites when nannying, but there. I said it.

Speaking of Mary Poppins, what the hell is up with that Nanny McPhee business? Admittedly, I know nothing about it/her minus what I saw on a 60-second ad spot for (what is apparently) the second movie, but does she look like a Mary Poppins’ wretched half-sister – the one who was raised in a dank, dark basement with a chain around her neck – or is that me? Yikes. So much for “You must be kind, you must be witty; very sweet and fairly pretty.” Today’s children are getting seriously ripped off.

Back to my own cat nannying, I’m a little slow at dishing out the stinky slop they call breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I keep squirting the one with water to force him out from under the bed and ram pills down his little pink throat, but hey, I’m just doing my job. At any rate, seeing as this is my life for another week, let me introduce you to the crew.

White Persian cat

Charlotte. The oldest and mostly sweet, but if you touch her back she hisses at you. Weird.

Although the smallest, Charlotte is the senior cat of the bunch. You may recall her in a Poodle Cut last time (shaved body, big head, and moon boots), but things have grown back nicely.

Jack hates me. I have to give him pills twice a day, and he’s more or less decided I’m Satan. Jack is the youngest and apparently likes men. I don’t know about that, but – as previously mentioned – he freaking hates me.

Blueberry, “The Bad One” is my favorite. He is a bad seed, but he cracks me up. He was rescued and has some screwed up teeth, but I think it gives him a snarly “You talkin’ to me?” look that suits him just fine.

Otherwise, minus shedding EVERYWHERE and some inappropriate crapping (Not cool, Blueberry. Not cool.) things have been mellow. And mellow is good, although a little bit boring. I’ll see if I can’t conjure up some  interesting content for you in the next few days, but don’t hold your breath. At the same time, if you play your cards right, I can all but guarantee some more XXX beach porn in your future. Get the aloe ready…

Seal point Himalayan

Jack Frost. As you can see in his glare, he pretty much hates me.

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