Crunchy Thoughts

Yes, I’m a horrible, horrible person for not writing at all recently. I’m going to Blogger-Hell. It’s turned out to be an extremely busy month and it ain’t over yet. Heading to Auburn tomorrow; ’tis my sister’s wedding on Saturday. Steven’s birthday is today (dance, dance!), and so there are many parties to be had this weekend.

I do have some interesting stories and an amusing development, but I’ve not the time nor the liberty to write about them at this point. Hopefully I’ll be able to sit down and give a full update next week. Once I get over this weekend, the ride to August will be wonderfully downhill from here.

And so without further ado, let the Hectic Weekend of the Year commence!

Last weekend turned out rather swimmingly, methinks. You don’t get to drive around downtown Atlanta every day. That is, if you don’t live in downtown Atlanta . . . and if you do, please accept my sincere deriding laughter. “Ha ha!”

We arrived in Atlanta for the symphony a little after one o’clock despite our initial confusement between Peachtree Street and West Peachtree Street, which were posted on really small road signs.

While waiting to be seated, I observed the menagerie of people about us. Some, like us, were rather well dressed. Others were slightly more casual, then some were really casual . . . as in nasty blue jeans and tattoos. Still others were dressed up in the latest of elvish fashion, complete with garland of sparkly twigs in hair and flowing robes. Always interesting to see how music can pull such a group together.

The music itself was incredible, of course. Howard Shore was quite entertaining to watch; very bouncy for an older gentleman. Steven and I also had fantastic seats; we were very close to the cellos. Someday, when I’m a bit richer and in a bigger city, I’d like to take violin lessons. I’ve already got the violin; might as well not let it go to waste. It does look like fun.

After the symphony it was off to dinner, which turned out to be mighty fine indeed. Now we all want a fondue pot to create our own (much less expensive) fondue experience. We also had a lovely bottle of wine, which was amusing to me since I’ve never ordered wine by the bottle before. Only two of us at the table drank any, though. Steven took over driving duties on the way home.

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Unfortunately, my trips between here and Auburn on the weekend were not so pleasant. I was headed down to Auburn on Friday with Renton and Hermione when a foul smell hit my nostrils.

“Hermione, did you fart?” She’s well-known for her global killers.

“Meow,” said Hermione.

It was reeking. I was hoping against hope that I had just driven by a cow pasture exactly when fifty bovines had a colon-cleaning orgy. That was a better thought than the possibility of cat poop in my car.

I was wrong, though. Hermione, who had been crying for over an hour, had released her spoils. When I got a chance to pull into a gas station to clean ‘er up, it got worse: my poor baby had tapeworms! Lord, no wonder she hasn’t been gaining any weight.

When we reached Auburn I went by a vet first thing. Thankfully, all she needed was one pill and some time for all the critters to vacate her colon. Apparently she felt better after that poop in Piedmont: she slept peacefully for the rest of the trip.

Heading back home after the weekend, however, her bowels struck again; this time in Roanoke. Sadly, she didn’t go to sleep afterward that time and wailed all the way to Fort Payne. At one point we came upon a thunderstorm, which had Renton crying along with her as I hydroplaned onto the interstate.

I told Hermione she’s banned from the car for life, though that remains to be seen. Places to go, people to marry.

However, I’m debating whether I should board them both at the vet’s this weekend to maintain my sanity and my nasal passages.

Five years ago, I was dreading a chemistry final. Only a few days left of my freshmen year of college, and I was looking forward to the chemistry-free summer. I wouldn’t have thought it that morning, but by the evening I would be someone’s girlfriend again.

Oh, to go visit that Carrie of five years ago. She probably wouldn’t know me from Madam’s housecat at first. And what would I say to this nutter who has no idea what’s in store for her?

Perhaps I’d start with, “Oh boogers, the next five years are gonna be the best of your life.”

She’s retort with something like, “Dude, you can’t be me. You’re skinny and wearing too much makeup. Crazy butt.”

Then I’d have to prove my identity by naming off old passwords, embarrassing stories, and that time when Tracy Bohannon got out the w–

BAM!

Old Carrie then would hit Future Carrie over the head with one of those Big Bertha cement blocks and go stuff her down in the basement of the dorm where the chapter room was, thus changing the best five years of her life to the last five years. She would then nonchalantly sit in front of the computer, where Steven will sign on AIM later.

Wow, that meeting did not go well at all. Remind me never, ever to step foot inside a time machine. My past self is vicious.

Happy anniversary, Steven! I think you’ll be able to remember our wedding anniversary better than this one.

Renton and Hermione are slowly getting used to each other. For two nights in a row now, I have been on the couch with one cat, then the other cat comes and gets on my side and falls asleep, only to slide down right beside the other kitty without knowing it. At one point they had their arms around each other!

And there I was, covered in kitties and out of reach of my camera. So sad.

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I woke up this morning to the thump, thump of kitties in the second bathtub. It’s a morning ritual around here; Renton started it and has now taught Hermione the joys of (dare I say it?) tubthumping. (Laugh at my lame joke!)

When I came out of my bedroom, freshly showered, I found that they somehow closed the bathroom door on themselves. I have no idea how long they were in there, but they seemed to be on good terms as they trotted out for their morning vittles. Renton even let Hermione rub on him for a half a second before jumping away.

Progress!

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This weekend shall be spiffy. We start off with a Friday evening at the theatre to watch Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. And if that isn’t enough to dance about, the next day we’re off to Atlanta with Ken and Lisa to listen to the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra playing the Lord of the Rings soundtrack with Howard Shore himself conducting. And to top this weekend extravaganza off, we will be off to dinner at The Melting Pot, a high-dollar, no hassle fondue experience.

Mmmmmm, may the cheese be drippy and warm for all.