Party Time

Modeling my niece's prom dress.
Will someone please ask me to the prom? 

As a part of the Living Life Well, I've been busy living my life well instead of writing. Though I need to set some time aside to bore you with my tomes. I should have made this my resolution for 2012. 
I'm grateful that I didn't. 


Part of living life well includes enjoying my pets. My cat and Bella are in cahoots. The cat visits her litter-box. Bella watches the cat "litter." The cat howls (like she does all night long, every night - for hours on end ever since I had her diabetic sister-kitty put to sleep a few years ago) and jumps out of the box having done her "doody." Bella clamors like a short-legged corgi inside the litter-box, tosses the cat poop out onto the carpet in a scattering -- like a tray of horses-doovers at a classy party. Then in place of the poop, resting  just so, like it seems to do - on top of the litter, Bella leaves a Made in China chicken jerky treat that we aren't supposed to feed our pets any more because they found out that the Chinese provide most of the chicken in these "treats" but someone found out that the chicken is made out of melamine or something awful and can kill your dog instantly. This cat-poop-jerky trade says a lot about those treats. I mean, when a dog prefers actual animal poo over what passes for purchased food -- the food must. not. be. edible. It's worse than crap.


I attended another neighborhood gathering a week ago. I met new people who's names I will never remember and saw people I've noticed driving down the road for years though rarely  speak with because we live somewhat secludedly which is why we live in these mountains -- so we don't have to see people.


I took a small tray of Trader Joe's mushroom something or others inside a packet of foil because I gave away all my dust-gathering party-type dishes years ago - and foil is so shiny, like a crumpled, shiny party in my palm. When I arrived at the gathering I unfolded the warm foil packet and put the mushroom clumps on a paper plate because paper plates are so papery. My food tribute felt a bit pathetic. I quickly walked away from the table because food isn't important to me (any longer). Plus I was trying not to feel embarrassed by my attempt at "plate-ing" which has become so important in the food industry, nearly as important as the actual food on the plate. I wanted to announce to anyone within sight of my dumping the mushroom wads on the paper plate "Those aren't mine!" Which is similar to what I say about my dog when she runs away from me when I call out her name or she stands in front of the school bus as it attempts the daily drive by my house with all the kids inside screaming "Don't hit the dog!" I say to anyone within distance -- "That's not my dog." Or "This isn't my dog." Or "See that dog way down there on the beach about a mile away? She ran away because she hates those hang-gliders. But she's not my dog. I'm walking her for someone else." 


At the party I  announced, "Those old mushroomy things... I brought those on the suggestion of my dog, who is a food critic, caterer and a big time foodie." 


Enjoy!