replacement parts
As I have previously indicated, I always wanted to grow old gracefully, or at least age without caving to the cutting and tugging of existing extra skin into new interesting and abnormal shapes. I really have no desire to have someone say, "She looks like a CAT!" or "She looks really surprised!" when I walk by.
That being said, this morning, due to pets playing "Cabinet thudding dinner demand" at 2:30 AM, the luggage under my eyes seem like it could do with a little nip tuckage. And while I am at it, I think I would like, thinner thighs, a less round stomach, and maybe a new nose.
Seriously, I have had enough non plastic surgeries now that regardless of how bad I look (in the mirror, it isn't like I think I look like a troll or anything) I could never go for the plastic surgery route. Not that I have anything against it. If someone wants to do it, for whatever their reasons are, go for it. I just don't want to deal with swelling, pain, stitches, and all the joys that go with that. My vanity really is pretty low. I mean, we all want to look our best, but I don't need to be Barbie. Besides the fact that she could not possibly support her body based on the proportions they give her, I like that I have character in my face. Life put it together, through all trials that it throws at you, it makes up your features and gives you the appearance that only YOU have.
I could do with a little less MIDNIGHT TO MORNING PET KEEPING ME UP CRAP. We have one special animal that is quite clever, in the evil genius sort of way. He makes sure that while he has no thumbs, he may as well be playing drums in the middle of the night in the bedroom.
We have the shower door boxing sound. This is achieved by standing with our two front furry little bastard paws on the tandem glass doors that lay against each other, and bouncing back and forth at a rapid pace between the two paws to create a rhythm, like a boxer hitting the speed bag, causing a huge amount of noise, and as a bonus bouncing the door open so we can get in the shower *no idea why.
We have the cabinet banging sound. This is achieved by taking our furry little bastard foot and placing it under the edge of the cabinet door. We don't want to actually open the door, we just want to open it enough to make it bang against the frame, again and again and again and again, until we get the vehicle for thumbs to come open the food container and provide us with our 2:30AM feeding.
We have the bedside table sound. This is achieved by daintily walking onto the bedside table and not touching ANYTHING until we get to a place we can sit, turn around and look at the bed. We then take our furry little bastard paws, and begin to knock items off of the table one by one to get a reaction out of the vehicle for thumbs. This serves as a means of obtaining TWO things, either food, or the door being opened for the furry little bastard to go our on his morning adventures.
Last but not least we have the scratch at anything resembling doors regardless of where they exist until you can't take the noise anymore and let me out sound. This is similar in action to the shower door boxing sound, but this is done on any and all outside doors and the garage into house doors. This is usually accompanied by much vocalization to allow for maximum acknowledgement of our displeasure with the the vehicle for thumbs for not opening the door when I first approached it. Their lack of ability to read my mind makes them useless for anything beyond the food presentation!
This little exercise in torture continues daily, and is resulting in my appearing like I actually have little POUCHES attached to my sleep deprived face. Thank you Kitteh for making me reevaluate my plastic surgery stance. Who knew a pet could cause that?
That being said, this morning, due to pets playing "Cabinet thudding dinner demand" at 2:30 AM, the luggage under my eyes seem like it could do with a little nip tuckage. And while I am at it, I think I would like, thinner thighs, a less round stomach, and maybe a new nose.
Seriously, I have had enough non plastic surgeries now that regardless of how bad I look (in the mirror, it isn't like I think I look like a troll or anything) I could never go for the plastic surgery route. Not that I have anything against it. If someone wants to do it, for whatever their reasons are, go for it. I just don't want to deal with swelling, pain, stitches, and all the joys that go with that. My vanity really is pretty low. I mean, we all want to look our best, but I don't need to be Barbie. Besides the fact that she could not possibly support her body based on the proportions they give her, I like that I have character in my face. Life put it together, through all trials that it throws at you, it makes up your features and gives you the appearance that only YOU have.
I could do with a little less MIDNIGHT TO MORNING PET KEEPING ME UP CRAP. We have one special animal that is quite clever, in the evil genius sort of way. He makes sure that while he has no thumbs, he may as well be playing drums in the middle of the night in the bedroom.
We have the shower door boxing sound. This is achieved by standing with our two front furry little bastard paws on the tandem glass doors that lay against each other, and bouncing back and forth at a rapid pace between the two paws to create a rhythm, like a boxer hitting the speed bag, causing a huge amount of noise, and as a bonus bouncing the door open so we can get in the shower *no idea why.
We have the cabinet banging sound. This is achieved by taking our furry little bastard foot and placing it under the edge of the cabinet door. We don't want to actually open the door, we just want to open it enough to make it bang against the frame, again and again and again and again, until we get the vehicle for thumbs to come open the food container and provide us with our 2:30AM feeding.
We have the bedside table sound. This is achieved by daintily walking onto the bedside table and not touching ANYTHING until we get to a place we can sit, turn around and look at the bed. We then take our furry little bastard paws, and begin to knock items off of the table one by one to get a reaction out of the vehicle for thumbs. This serves as a means of obtaining TWO things, either food, or the door being opened for the furry little bastard to go our on his morning adventures.
Last but not least we have the scratch at anything resembling doors regardless of where they exist until you can't take the noise anymore and let me out sound. This is similar in action to the shower door boxing sound, but this is done on any and all outside doors and the garage into house doors. This is usually accompanied by much vocalization to allow for maximum acknowledgement of our displeasure with the the vehicle for thumbs for not opening the door when I first approached it. Their lack of ability to read my mind makes them useless for anything beyond the food presentation!
This little exercise in torture continues daily, and is resulting in my appearing like I actually have little POUCHES attached to my sleep deprived face. Thank you Kitteh for making me reevaluate my plastic surgery stance. Who knew a pet could cause that?
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