Poppy Cedes

Yesterday at 4pm I received a call to my cell phone from a number that looked vaguely familiar. The three weird things about this: Calls usually don’t reach me at my cell when I’m at my abode because the cell coverage of my town absolutely sucks; that number looked familiar enough that it should have been programmed in my phone (and, turns out, it was); the call never registered in my received calls list. Turns out it was Partner in Crime calling to ask me to kittysit Nigel at the very last minute, as he and Lovely Wife were leaving on a red eye today to visit grandparents with their new baby. He came over and quickly dropped off keys for me to break into his home while he is away then he left. I have been invited to eat all their food, drink all their liquids, steal all their DVDs, and hang out with Nigel as much as I want.

A bit later last night I spoke with Sour and let her know that I would finally be able to take photographic evidence of Nigel’s existence, and she did her version of squeeing. So, I’ll have kitty pictures to post that are someone else’s kitty. Soon. -ish. While no one’s reading but Sour.

It is going to seem non sequitur to mention that I love watching documentaries, especially multi-part ones where there is so much material to cover that the documentary is forced into segments, and ones that focus on individual or family lives rather than causes or organizations. Well, sorta true. Morgan Spurlock fighting McDonald’s or Michael Moore fighting the George W. Bush corporation also count as favorite documentaries. Anyway, continuing on the last night theme, I finished watching the 8-part documentary Nimrod Nation which follows a community in the Upper Peninsula (UP) of Michigan. This is basketball country, and hunting country, and doing-stupid-things-while-drunk-in-the-snow-country. Whenever I watch reality or documentary shows about high school sports I totally get sucked into the sports aspect. When the Watersmeet HS boys-almost-men were playing ball I kept cheering them on, yelling when they made sucky shots, praising them when they did those 3-pointers. I just got into the whole spectator part of basketball as if I watch it all the time and the Watersmeet Nimrods are my favorite high school team (which, let’s face it, they’re the only team I know about right now, so they are my favorite by default). I struggle a little with this only because I know I’m really supposed to be focused on the Life of the People, but I’m getting sucked into the Drama of the Sport. Anyone who isn’t a jock has been annoyed at least once about the Privilege afforded to jocks. These guys got escorted by a fire truck and a sheriff to their final game. If I’m having surrogate quadruplets for Bill Gates (ew, shush, stop making me think about this) in the back seat of a car I’m not getting that treatment, but these guys are local heroes, dammit, so they get the escort!

At some point yesterday (7pm Eastern) I listened in on Fab and Robin’s anti-Christmas show because I wanted to know what an anti-Christmas show was all about. I cannot tell you how much I laughed at Brad* Fab for continuing to mistakenly say my real first name over the radio instead of “Poppy”. I am absolutely certain he did that shit on purpose (Just kidding! I understand why, Fab, totally my fault. Some day I’ll figure out how to get into the raucous chat room once my density wears off.), but most people who know “Poppy” know my real first name so it wasn’t a big deal.

I seem to have done a lot of things yesterday that I can’t quite mention here, none of which were nefarious, but I’d like to cryptically say that I am very proud of a-certain-blogger-who-knows-who-they-are for making a major life breakthrough even though it totally shakes up their life permanently and irrevocably. I mean it, sweetie. Life is an adventure. Allow yourself to experience it.

Today’s accomplishments: Being nice in traffic and letting 4 cars go at various points in my travels to and from the post office to mail a bill. Two of those cars were firefighter vehicles (a volunteer vehicle and an official business SUV). I am still looking for my opportunity to do as Crys suggested and pay for coffee, lunch, snack, dinner, whatever for a serviceman or servicewoman to show my appreciation for their protection of our country so that I can continue a reasonable amount of spouting off at the mouth without fear of punishment. (Crys, the gun show photo and caption still makes me giggle.) No other accomplishments of today are as important as being nice to my Fellow Man.

*Fab has outed his real name himself. And, really, 200+ people got holiday postcards from him. If we wanna know who he is we do know.