Tuesday, November 21, 2006

One Week Later...

Hey everybody, it looks like it's been an entire week since I rapped at you. My bad. I'm sure there's an excuse in there, but the important thing is that I'm back. I'm sitting in the sunny livingroom at my folks' house preparing myself to head back out into the cold to pick up my race packet for the Turkey Trot. While I was already out in the cold today for my "morning" run, I'm not interested in venturing back out, so here I sit stalling.


The Storm Cometh

Okay, let's get the snow jokes out of the way first thing. Yup, Buffalo gets a lot of snow. What they had a few weeks back (a month or so?) was that heavy ass snow that you can almost hear hitting the ground. What Buffalonians heard instead was the branches of their beloved trees hitting the ground. For the most part, the branch piles are all cleared up, but as you drive into the city all you can see are beheaded trees. One can only hope that when spring comes the trees will blast out new branches and once again line the streets in leafy splendor.

After the storm and subsequent cleaning crew, my parents planted a new tree out back. I haven't ventured out to inspect it yet, and it's in a strange place and I'm not sure if I'm ready for such a change. Traditionally they've planted their flora around the perimeter of the yard, but this new tree falls within the coveted lawn space. I'm sure great care was taken to find the best spot and Ann from across the street undoubtedly had her input (she's the crazy garden lady on the street who knows WAAAAY more than anyone else and always has the most butterester garden you could imagine). If you're lucky when you die you either become a cat at my mother's house or a plant in Ann's garden.


Race Packet Day

I was supposed to run this morning to the YMCA where Thursday's race will start. From there I was going to run the race route, then end up at home. I had the idea that I would use this opportunity to pick up my race packet, but when I realized it meant carrying all that crap for 7 miles I thought better of it and just went to the park. This leaves me with picking up the race packet still on my agenda.

Every year I get my race stuff (t-shirt, timing chip, coupons, snacks, etc) at the start of the race. This also leaves me with the problem of having to do something with all of that crap while I run, and I tend to tie the shirt around my waist, tie the timing chip to my shoe (like you're supposed to do) and throwing everything else away. This year I'm in town early enough to get it ahead of time and save myself the agony of throwing all of that away right before the race. Instead I'll bring it home and throw it out there.


Cat Mastering

Any of you who know me on a personal level will know that I am the Cat Master. I can win over any cat, and frequently find myself draped in cats, AKA Cat Mastering. My parents' house is the true test for my Cat Mastering skills as it is currently staffed with 6 cats.

There are the two OCs (Original Cats), two hand-me-down cats, and my sister's two cats. As is the case with all aspects of life, the guys are pretty chill and occasionally get bent out of shape. However, they just fight real quick and that's that. The ladies just bitch and moan and hate each other and all of the other cats (except for their "partner"). I still haven't even seen Tita-Bonita-Mi-Amorcita cuz her bitch ass probably won't come back in until I leave.

This morning I was laying on the floor stretching, which is sign language to cats that means "please come share your fur with me and my sweaty self". True to my magnetic Cat Mastery, I was soon surrounded by three cats (only the dude cats) who needed my attention. I even almost had Pati (my sister's female cat) sitting with me. One more cat and I would have mastered every cat in the house (recall that Tita won't come inside). PlacaTAN!


Well, I'm pretty much out of stories today. I'll try to keep y'all filled in with my goings-ons so you don't feel left out. Dom, if your bitch ass is in the 'lo, you need to holler at me. But not if I holler at you first.

Over and Out,
Old Coot

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey, don't call Tita Bonita a bitch! Poor thing, imagine yourself in a life of being subservient to your oblivious brother, and then more and more cats roll into what was your home for many years. Oh, Tita. Anyway, good luck with the race on Thursday! This year you can actually try to place well, instead of running circles around my slow ass!

WV says "kiqyfzl." Fo sho.

"Something inside of me just said 'Hey, wait a minute, I want to beat him.' and I just took off." -Pre