Chris-saaaaaaaaay--This One's For You!

I spoke to my sister-in-law (Adam's brother's wife) last night (one of my top ten favorite things to do) and she mentioned that in all my blogs, she has not once seen her name been mentioned. I reminded her that because we become gossipy bitches when our phone lines connect, there's not much that I could write about her that wouldn't divulge some of my innermost gossip topics.

However, since I love to tell a story, a funny, gossipy one at that, I'll tell the story of how I first met my friend and sister-in-law Christine.

Adam and I had been dating for several months in October 1999 when we went to visit his brother Scott in New Jersey for a few hours. While we were there, Scott mentioned that he'd started dating a new girl, Christine, and that he'd really like for us to meet her. So he called her and asked her to come over to meet Adam and me for a little while. I could hear her voice on the other end of the phone saying she didn't want to come over. Right away, I was a little miffed; so Scott's new girlfriend doesn't want to come meet us? Granted, he'd just had a volatile breakup with his last girlfriend, who literally had turned out to be a nut job (let's just say that the end involved a car being driven on the New York City sidewalk; a clawed, scratched and bloody Scott; and Adam's missing bottle of wine). So, I was a little jaded about the women in Scott's life. However, after he finally convinced her to come over, I started to look forward to having another woman to hang out with, and possibly do some double dating with. At the time, Adam and I didn't have many other couples to hang out with. Then, 15 minutes later, she walked in. Christine looked eerily like the crazy nut job girlfriend from before, and she had a pompous air about her (that was only bolstered by her long, fur-lined coat). She barely said hello to Adam and me, and sat quietly, not talking for the rest of the afternoon. My "miffiness" was buoyed. Hmmmph.

Well, because men are men and don't pick up on anything, including lack of chemistry (Christine's and mine, that is), Adam and Scott suggested going to Costco to do some shopping. Once again, Christine protested (and I wanted to protest because I didn't know if I could handle another minute with Miss Sourpuss), but Scott managed to convince her to go with us. We arrive at Costco, and of course, the boys head off toward the gadgets, suggesting that we ladies "go look at clothes or something". I had that steely feeling in me that I was going through the motions, trying to be nice to some woman that obviously had no interest in me, and who I was at that point hoping not to have to spend much more time with. We shuffled around through the clothing, then ended up perusing the books and novels table. This was the time when "pet autobiographies" (a la "Marley and Me") were just starting to become fashionable, so being the dog enthusiast that I am, I picked up a few such novels and started telling Christine about Shabbi and Kika. I asked her if she had any pets.
...that was the turning point that changed everything.

Christine said, "Yeah, I've got two cats. One's called Gimpy, and the other one's called Big Fatty." Now, you have to imagine her talking with her strong New Jersey accent, which just makes the story (even to me, now 9 years later) absolutely hilarious.
I did a double take and said, "Gimpy? Big Fatty? Those are some names for cats."
Without smiling or missing a beat, she went on. "Well, Gimpy's real name is Elvis, but when I got him he'd just been hit by a car so he had a limp, so I started calling him The Gimp. Oh, but he gets around just fine now."
I started to look at this girl again. Not only was she not smiling at her own story, but she wasn't even looking at me. A story that was starting to break down the wall I'd put up against her didn't even cause her to blink. I took a shot. "So, why is Big Fatty called Big Fatty?"
Once again she responded matter-of-factly, "Oh, because he weighs 33 pounds. He's really fat."
I laughed in spite of myself. Thirty-three pounds???? That cat was 3 Kikas! How could it be? I just couldn't fathom such a large cat, and so I asked her if she'd had him since he was a kitten.
For the first time, Christine almost cracked a smile. "No, no, but it's a funny story, actually. I was working at my job and one of the girls who worked there was telling me that she had this cat that she couldn't keep anymore and wondered if I'd want it. I wanted a cat, so I told her that I'd take it and see if things worked out. So she and her husband lived about an hour or so away from where I did, so my dad came over to my place that weekend and waited with me for the girl and her husband to show up with the cat. When they drove up, I asked them if they wanted to come in for awhile--ya know, 'cause they'd been driving for a long time and maybe they needed to use the bathroom or something--but they said they were in a hurry and had someplace to be. I was surprised they were in such a rush, but didn't think much of it. I went to the car to help get the cat carrier out, but the husband insisted on carrying it inside the house for me. They were practically out of the door already by the time the cat was inside my place. I couldn't figure out why they were in such a hurry to leave. I asked them again if they wanted to stay for awhile, but they kept saying that they really had to be on their way and they'd see me later. Then they were gone.
So my father and I are standing in my living room with this cat in the carrier. I opened the door to the carrier to let the cat come out but it wouldn't move. My father said, 'Christine, I'll pick it up and turn it over so the cat falls out and you catch it, okay?' So that's what we did. But, Lauren, as soon as my dad picked up that carrier, he said, 'Christine, what the f-ck is in this thing? This f-cking thing weighs a ton!' I was starting to understand why the husband didn't want me to carry the cat into the house! So anyway, dad picks up this carrier, turns it sideways, and this cat starts oozing out. Lauren, the cat was just coming and coming! There was so much cat, and my dad is yelling at me, like 'What the hell kinda cat is this?' and I'm yelling back that I don't know what the hell this cat is. Anyway, this thing finally comes completely out of the carrier and dad and I are standing there looking at this big fat cat, with just layers and layers of fat and skin hanging all around him." Finally, she stops and takes a breath and looks at me. Then with a big loud laugh, she shrieks, "So that's Big Fatty!" and starts giggling.
I was already in tears, I was laughing so hard at her story. I couldn't believe the details, but I couldn't believe what a good storyteller she was either. She captured the whole scene in such a way that I felt like I was there. And, most of all, I couldn't believe that the seemingly sullen, sourpuss girl from the afternoon had turned into a hilariously cool gal that evening. From that moment on, Christine and I have been close close friends.

It was only years later that she revealed to that she was in a sour mood that day because she was due to have surgery early the following morning, and so she really didn't want to hang out with us that evening. I felt awful; had I known that had been what was going on, I would have been so much more understanding.
For years now, we've referred to each other as sister-in-laws, even when Adam and I weren't married. Christine is one of my closest friends and one of my favorite relatives. So, not to be sappy, but I feel extremely lucky to have a friend as good as Christine, who can make me laugh as hard today as she did that first night. And there's no better person to gossip with about anything and everything.

I love ya, kiddo, and hope this post makes you laugh.

Getting My Move On

So, tomorrow I leave for warm temperatures, warm holidays, and my warm husband. As I wrote previously, I booked a flight out to Virginia to visit Adam for the holiday week. I decided to spoil myself a little bit and really spend some quality time with him there, enjoying the weather and taking the opportunity to see my family, too. Adam is heading out to Michigan for Christmas, so we won't be seeing either of our families for Xmas or New Years' this go round. However, we're hoping to have a spring family gathering after The Fist is born (s/he is the size of a clenched fist now) so our families a) can all see the baby at once, and b) can finally meet each other after 10 years of Adam and I being together. Hmmmmmm...two grandmas and one new grandchild to fight over? This will be interesting...

So, I don't know what my computer access will be like in the week that I'll be gone, but I'll post if/when I can. Otherwise, I'll take pictures and post those and many holiday stories upon my return.

Safe travels to everyone who is travelling, and safe eating to all those who feel the need to stuff themselves. No bursting this year, please.

Michigan Snowfall

It's snowing here in Michigan (surprise, surprise)! As much as we all complain and carry on, it really is so beautiful. Here are a few shots I just took outside my office. The snow has gotten even heavier in the last few minutes and everything is covered in a beautiful down blanket. What a way to welcome in the holiday week!

This Job Is For the Birds

Yesterday, one of the undergraduate technicians came into the lab to tell me that she'd noticed a bunch of dead birds on the ledge outside the 2nd floor window. When I went to inspect, sure enough, there were six Cedar Waxwings lying dead amongst the pebbles on the ledge. Upon closer inspection, the technician realized that there were splatter marks on the window, which indicated all six birds had died on impact. Cedar Waxwings are a colonial (flocking) species; my guess is that they were flying around together, flew into the little alcove above the ledge because it's enclosed and a bit warmer, and slammed into the window. Poor things, they are truly amongst the most beautiful of songbirds. Not that any birds deserve to die (except maybe invasives like Song Sparrows and Starlings), but you know how you sometimes get a little extra sad when the teen who died in the car crash was really striking? You always hear people say, "It's a shame; she was SO beautiful." That's the way it is with these birds. Well, something like that.

Anyway, I left a note for the custodial crew before leaving work yesterday to ask if I could borrow a ladder to access the ledge (the 2nd floor window doesn't open so you have to climb to the ledge from the ground). The curator at the MSU Museum was interested in having the specimens in the bird collection, so I wanted to retrieve them for her. I got a call this afternoon from the custodial supervisor. His first words after introducing himself were, "Is this a joke?" I laughed nervously and assured him that no, it was no joke, I really did want to retrieve some dead birds. He told me he didn't have a ladder tall enough, but that I could call the electrician who should have a ladder to reach the second floor ledge. I called the number he gave me and the electrician said he'd send a guy over to inspect.

I put on my surgical gloves and grabbed some plastic bags and hurried down to the entrance to meet the guy. I was fully expecting a guy carrying a big ladder to show up, but that guy didn't come. About ten minutes later, as I was debating whether to go back to my office and call to make sure someone was on the way, I heard a beeping noise. It took a few seconds to realize what it was. I stepped outside into the snowy cold and saw a big utility truck backing up to lift a hydraulic ladder with a bucket at the end up to the ledge. I asked the guy if I could go up, but he said he wasn't allowed to let anyone in the bucket. I was bummed. I could tell he was excited to go get the birds, though. I saw him climb out of the bucket, round up the six birds and then he rode the basket back down to pass the bag of birds to me. We were both pretty psyched. I thanked him and he grinned. We're both featherbrains, I think.

In other news, I cried in the shower this morning. I cried not because I had to go to work, or because I missed Adam, or because the economy is tanking. Nope, I cried at the thought of the last episode of "Gilmore Girls" where Rory decides to leave Stars Hollow for a permanent job, Lorelei and Luke finally get together for real, and Lorelei and Rory have their final breakfast together at Luke's diner, just like in the last scene of the very first episode. Even now, just writing it, I'm getting teary. I love that show.

Tonight I am breaking tradition. Usually I go every year to Lansing's "Silver Bells in the City" with Adam. We drink cup after cup of free hot chocolate, I run around endlessly looking for a toilet to potty in, we watch the electric light parade go by, I drink more hot chocolate against my better judgement, and we go to all the stores in downtown that stay open late for the occasion. It's been our "thing" for several years now, and we've always loved it. Tonight is "Silver Bells" and Adam is not in town to share it with me. I debated skipping it altogether out of respect for Adam's homesickness, but decided instead to go and have enough fun for the both of us. And I mean that in the most non-selfish way I can. I'm going with a friend and we'll have a good time, drink loads of hot chocolate, take lots of bathroom breaks, and we'll cap the night off with a movie and takeout. Well, it's almost like having Adam here; I just don't know how "lucky" I'll get with her after the movie's over. *smirk*

GOOD NIGHT EVERYONE!

But, Seriously...

Today's a serious post day, everyone. I looked at the frontpage of the local newspaper and saw that a woman I know, from my evening gardening class, has been reported missing for the last 9 days. I had noticed that she hadn't been in class for awhile, but I'd assumed that she had just dropped. So sad and sorry to see that something much graver is occurring.

Her name is Krista Lueth; she is 34 years old, 5'4", 125 lbs, and a horticulture student at MSU. We had a few brief conversations about growing and maintaing a vegetable garden, as well as our respective studies at MSU. She's a nice woman, really intelligent and always quite vocal in class. I wish her a safe homecoming.

Here is the link to the story about her; if you are a Lansing resident, please take a look at her picture in case you've seen her recently. I'm hoping that every little bit can count to bring her home safely.

http://www.lansingstatejournal.com/article/20081120/NEWS01/811200373

Keep her family and friends in your thoughts.

House, MD--"Medical Disaster"

Adam is going to kill me. Well, he might torture me a bit if he doesn't slice me and dice me first.

This morning I had to take Gregory House to the vet for a teeth cleaning. If you haven't met him, you don't know about the atrocious breath he's been sporting since he entered our household. However, his perpetual skin allergies have been so all-consuming that the vet hasn't wanted to subject my poor kitty to yet another medical procedure until that was under control. At the latest visit to the vet (he's been there about 4 or 5 times since we inherited him 6 months ago), I was told that his teeth really needed to be cleaned, and we couldn't wait any longer. I booked the appointment.

I was quoted an obscene amount of money for the cleaning, but figured that it would be a one-time deal, his early Xmas present, so I went with it. House deserves to have a healthy set of chompers, and I deserve to breathe fresh air when I'm around his meow-ing mouth. However, the vet assistant just called me at work with the ever-dreaded, "do you have a few minutes?" I thought for sure she was going to tell me my little boy had died on the table. Just as my tears were starting to well up, she instead informed me that his dentistry is in much worse shape than they thought and several of his teeth would have to be extracted, virtually doubling the original obscene amount. I let her talk, all the while saying to myself, "There is NO way I'm paying for this. This was a stray cat that I took pity on; I am NOT going to break the bank over him." When she finished, I responded in a flat tone, "I can't do it. I've got a baby on the way. Even the original quote was pushing it." She conceded, and said she'd talk further with the doctor to see what he could do.

I hung up feeling only mildly satisfied with my authoritative and command decision. We are saving for the arrival of a baby, after all; I can't throw away good money on this cat.

But then my mind started to wander...to the days of Shabbi and Kika, when we would spare no expense on their health, safety and well-being, when we didn't think of them as "animals" but instead as our family. We dropped tons of money on Shabbi right up till the end of her life. How could I not do the same for my young and vibrant little kitty boy?

I called the clinic back and immediately told the vet assistant to do what needed to be done, that I would pay. When she asked if I were sure, I said "yes, he's my boy and I can't skimp on his health," before I could change my mind. She assured me that since a)he's a stray that I rescued, and b)I've spent so much money on him to this point already, they would try to tap into their kitty fund that would help alleviate some of the cost. That's a bit of a relief. It'll be an even bigger relief when I see my little kid, awake and bouncing around again.

But...I'm hoping that a few days go by before Adam decides to check my blog. And I'll slice and dice ANY of you that tries to tell him first.

Pomp and Circumstance...and Tassels!!!!!!

Tonight I graduate from the Urban Gardening course that I've been taking the last few months. We've covered everything from "What is a plant?" to "How best to fertilize" to "Can you put human feces in your compost bin?" (answer to that last one is a resounding NO!). It's been a very interesting class. **For any Lansing-ites out there who are interested in the course, the Allen Neighborhood Center will be offering it again in February** Now that I'll have graduated, I just have to complete 40 hours of volunteer service staffing the community greenhouse where the course is taught. So far, the staffing has been pretty easy (harvesting basil seeds, conducting a cooking demonstration); I wanted to start getting my staffing hours over with sooner rather than later since my belly will eventually make bending and stooping a little difficult.

Yesterday, I had my first prenatal appointment with a doctor. I got the good ole heist-ya-legs-up-now-scoot-down-okay-gnash-teeth examination. Everything (so far) checked out, and I also got to hear Wee Willie's heartbeat on the Doppler machine. It was clocking a steady 165 beats per minute, fast and strong and good. S/he "swam" around quite a bit, evidently trying to avoid the loud sounds from the Doppler, so the nurse had to move the radar around to find the little tyke. The nurse (Angie, I absolutely adore her) told me she could already see and feel my "baby bump" which I've been looking for for about a week now but can't quite locate. It's like in the prepubescent novel "Are you there God? It's me, Margaret" when the title character (Margaret, not God) is hoping and wishing for breasts that haven't arrived yet. But I figure if Angie can see and feel the bump, it'll only be a matter of time before I will, too.

Several people have asked me how Adam is doing out in Virginia, and he is just fabulous. We speak everyday, and I have to hand it to him, he's being everything that I need him to be in terms of being the geographically-distant-husband-and-father-to-be. He's excited, concerned, caring and misty-voiced at all the right times. He's a little homesick, but they've got him so busy between running several miles every morning and going through classes that he doesn't have a lot of time to think about it. I'm sure that Miss Kika staying with Dad for the next several months will alleviate any sadness he's got, though. I can't wait to spend Thanksgiving week with him and the family, and then Adam will come down this way for Xmas.

So....lots going on. Now I just have to decide where exactly I'll be placing those tassels tonight.