You Are Fozzie Bear
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"Wocka! Wocka!"
You're the life of the party, and you love making people crack up.
If only your routine didn't always bomb!
You may find more groans than laughs, but always keep the jokes coming.
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I probably would rather be Fozzie than anyone else (thank you, chaos and dana), although I have always loved this:
which is a cover from a librarian's magazine circa 1981 that I have kept framed and hanging on a wall someplace ever since the issue came out.
Because I am a shameless copycat, I saw the audioblog thing at misspinkkate's site last night, and now, voila, I have one too.
This is not to say that I won't do this again sometime, but mostly I'm curiosity driven and wanted to see if I could make it work, too. And if you're at all wondering what the Sibs sounds like, you can just listen to the audioblog clip I recorded, because when I hear my voice recorded, I sound so much like her that I think it must be her, although I know it's not because I just recorded it myself. We never could fool Shirl with this identical-voice thing, but Jack fell for it on the phone all the time.
The cat is somewhat less on the verge of death today. Yesterday, in fact, she ate nothing at all except what she puked up in the morning, and would not drink, even when I put the water bowl right in front of her. But a little after ten last night, when I was still up, she ambled up out of her warm spot by the heat and across the room and took a long, long drink. She's eaten twice today, and so far, no vom that I've noticed. She's still turning into a little shadow of her former self, and I know it probably won't be long, but she's made it through today, anyway.
I'm also beginning to acknowledge that I am probably depressed, and in more than a just I'm-having-a-crappy-week/month sort of way. Of course, I haven't actually acknowledged that to anyone else yet, although most likely the Colleague has picked it up, or will any day now. My bouts of depression in the past have usually been not horribly severe or very long-lasting, but that may just be my distorted perception of them. In my family, your depression has to be pretty intense to stand out in the crowd, so I may just have the overall sensation that I'm just not as good at depression as everyone else is. (Yes, yes, poor me, poor me. I'm never as good as anyone else at anything. Time to go eat worms.) Anyway, as I said yesterday, I'm giving this until next Monday to see if both my children return alive from their venture to Toronto, because if they die in a fiery car crash caused by someone falling asleep at the wheel, well, then I'll really need to be medicated and, possibly, euthanized, but if they make it back, then I'll see how I am and where to go from there. Really, I should have had at least one more child who didn't get along with the others, so they wouldn't all want to go off and do these things together.
I'm thinking, actually, now that I'm writing (world's best therapy), that maybe part of what's going on is a kind of separation anxiety, and that this trip coming mitendrinnen [in the middle of everything] is just nasty timing. Again, not that R isn't due to move out, or that it's not a good thing, or that I think I will have no life when she's gone. Uh .... wait a minute. Back up. Maybe it's the no-life thing. Not that I need her for my life, but she is very good company, and living here, is generally available for shopping, even for groceries, and TV watching company. The Hubs, although a fine human being etc. etc. is not any of these. Okay, so she's moving out. This is a good thing. But until then, y'know, she could maybe find a way not to spend every single night out somewhere. Here's something; did I write this before? I don't know.
A week or two ago, I was going to bed early one night, and she put on a fake little-girl pouty face and said something like "Don't go to bed so early! I want you to watch TV with me! I won't be around to watch with you for much longer, you know."
Well. I really had to take a breath before answering that one in anything other than a miserable "what about me?" way, but I did say "Well, you're the one who's moving out, and you'll have roommates, and who will I have to watch TV with?" but I said it in a very matter-of-fact way, not designed to make her feel bad, just serious.
And she said "I think about that all the time."
So, is that it? I'm sad that she's moving out, even though I'm mostly really very happy about it? And also, I'm really really afraid that they're both going to die this week somewhere between Thursday night and Friday mornig.
It's probably the second one.
