the passionate ailurophile

Irish day, originally uploaded by catmommy9.

At MerchantsAuto.com Stadium, Manchester, NH

Today, we’re going to the Fisher Cats game. In honor of Mother’s Day, they are having a giveaway of pink Fisher Cats caps to the first 1,000 women who appear to be of child-bearing age. Well, it’s supposed to be for moms, but that’s the way they hand these things out….all women, whether they have kids in tow or not.

This whole pink baseball crap thing is lame and stupid. Yet another ASSumption that all women like pink. If they try to give me one, I won’t take it…I wouldn’t ever wear it, anyway. I only wear team gear in the REAL team colors. This basically means that I have to buy men’s stuph, but I’m already used to that. Most of the crap they sell for women is pink.

Right now I am wearing my Fisher Cats’ green & white shirt…those are the REAL team colors.

Apparently, this pink hat thing is sponsored by some day spa up in Manchester, and they are having giveaways where moms can enter to win spa treatments. That’s another thing they can keep. I don’t care if they can give me the best wrinkle cream, the best hair care, etc…I don’t like people fawning over me, touching me, and all.  And that’s another ASSumption, that ALL women want to have spa treatments.  I wouldn’t want that as a gift for my birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or any other day.  There are much cooler gifts for me that people can spend their money on, like baseball tickets.

Father’s Day swag is always so much cooler.  Last year, they gave away these spiffy sun visors at the Fisher Cats game.  I told Mike to accept one…hey, he’s a CatDaddy, after all…because I wanted one.

Well, this CatMommy is going to leave all of the frou-frou pink girly crap right where it is.  There are plenty who do want it, and they can have it.  The Fisher Cats give out enough other free swag on other days, most of which is much cooler than stupid pink hats.

On June 1, we’ll be there early so I can get a Rico Petrocelli bobblehead.  Now THAT is my idea of cool swag!

It was a really nice little trip. And believe it or not, NO RAIN, at least not until we were driving home today. But no rain for the Sea Dogs game on Wednesday evening, and no rain on Thursday afternoon. It did rain a bit late Wednesday into Thursday, but by the time we were ready to go out, the sun was shining.

The ball game was nice…the Sea Dogs won. The only annoying thing was this stupid fat guy who was sitting to the right of me, who had NO concept of personal space…he kept moving his stupid arms around, nudging me over so far that I almost ended up out of my seat and in Mike’s lap. Luckily, there were plenty of empty seats, so we took the easy way out and moved. We moved to the row in front of him and his two stupid friends.

All of these guys were gross. During the game, one of them started talking about going to karaoke at some bar after the game. Apparently, at this particular establishment, the “girls” who hang out there are easy…”they will do ANYTHING for a drink”, according to one of these guys. Yeah, that and twenty bucks, I suppose.

How can anyone be so desperate for a free drink at what sounds like a skeevy bar, that they will do “anything” to get one? And with these guys? Hell, I wouldn’t care if they offered to buy me a beautiful gold anklet or some other nice piece of jewelry, I wouldn’t give them the time of day! If I want nice jewelry, I can buy my own, thank you very much!
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We had a nice day on Thursday. We had lunch at Gritty’s, and hung out there for a while, then we went and walked around the Old Port. We saw that there was a lighthouse cruise running, that would get us back in plenty of time for our 6PM dinner reservation at Fore Street, so we took it. But we weren’t sure if we’d get to go or not. Since it was a weekday afternoon, and not quite tourist season yet, the guy at the ticket window wasn’t sure if they’d run the 3:30 cruise. They needed ten people booked to make it worthwhile to run, and Mike and I were numbers seven and eight. But since the guy said that we could get a refund if the boat didn’t run, we bought the tickets anyway.

We ended up getting exactly ten people, so it was a go. It was one of our better boat trips, because of not too many people, and no little kids. All adults, in fact. It was just nice to sit, enjoy the scenery, enjoy a couple of beers, and relax in peace. This picture was taken from the boat with my camera phone; I also blogged it on the boat as well.

After the cruise, we walked over to Fore Street, even though it was just past 5PM and our reservations were for 6. We knew that we could hang out at the bar and have a beer while we waited to be seated. For once, we got there early enough, that the bar was still empty, so we got seats there right away.

Our table was ready by 5:45; they do seat people early if they are there early and it’s possible.

As always, we had the wonderful mussels with garlic and almond butter appetizer. They had fiddleheads on the menu. We had heard a lot about this legendary Maine veggie, but had never tried them before. They are only in season for maybe two weeks, and we knew that if we didn’t order them this time, we’d have to make like we used to when the Red Sox sucked, and *wait ’til next year*. So we split an order of fiddleheads, and Mike had grilled monkfish, and I had duck.

It was all very tasty, fiddleheads included. Someday, if I can ever get hold of them at a store, I will try cooking them at home.

We had dessert…we split a plate of cheesecake made with goat cheese and creme fraiche, with maple ice cream. Yummie!

Oh, and even though we downed a good deal of beer yesterday, no worries. We opted to leave the car at the Inn at St. John, where we stayed, and took the bus to the Old Port. Buses stop kind of early in Portland, though, so we decided to take a cab back. The cabbie was very pleasant and polite, and he drove sanely, so unlike the nutcase cabbies we have around here. It didn’t cost that much at all, well worth not having to drive and worry about parking and drinking and all. The cabbie gave us a business card, which I’ll keep in my wallet for when we’re back in Portland. We’d use that company again, for sure. I’m just not used to being treated well by a cab driver!
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Today we checked out of the hotel, and headed up to the L.L. Bean store in Freeport.  I had to pick up the jeans and shorts that I’d ordered online and asked to be held at the store, and Mike needed new pants and shoes, as well.  I snapped this picture of the giant Bean boot that’s outside the main entrance.

I also bought a pair of these sneakers in blue.  I like that I can go to the men’s shoe department at Bean’s, and there are no skinny anorexic salesbimbos around to give me any crap about asking to try on men’s shoes.  This has happened to me at other stores, at the Evil Mauls.  But at the L.L. Bean flagship store, the shoe salespeople are smart enough to take one look at me and see that the women’s sizes just ain’t gonna fit me!

Finally, on the way home, we stopped off in Kennebunkport and had lunch at Federal Jack’s brewpub.  And then, home!  The cats missed us, and we missed them, too.  They were VERY happy to see us!

We’re off to Portland!  I won’t have access to the ‘net, but I may post pix from my phone.

Normal blogging will resume Friday night.  See ya on the flip side!

Sick of these people who bitch and moan to high hell about gas prices…and they are driving some Hugh Jass gas guzzlers. There was this asshat on some morning news show today, who drives a Lincoln Fucking Navigator. The stupid jerk was going on and on about how it cost his ass over $100 to fill the tank in this thing.

No sympathy from me here. None. First of all, NO ONE needs a luxury SUV. Anywhere. If you are actually going to drive the damned thing off-road, you won’t be buying some expensive pansy-assed thing that you’re afraid to get dirty, you’ll buy a smaller, cheaper one. Who the fuck is gonna buy a Lincoln Navigator to haul around a horse trailer, or use it as a work truck in some other way? No one! Most of the people I see in Lincoln Navigators, Hummers, and my new favorite vehicles of hate, Cadillac Escalades, are just driving them to be flashy assholes. And, as far as I’m concerned, flashy assholes can all get fucked up the ass. With a splintery flagpole, and no lube.

I do have sympathy for those who need a larger vehicle for some legitimate reason, and there are plenty of good reasons for that. But if the only reason you drive a Hugh Jass Flashy Asshole Vehicle is to terrorize those of us who choose to drive econoboxes, well, FUCK YOU!

Mike filled up the tank of the Ford Focus today. It was still about 1/4 full, and it cost about $30 to fill it. We’ll use less than half of that tank to get to Portland tomorrow, and we’ll leave the car parked a lot of the time while we’re there. We can easily walk to the ballpark, and when we want to go to the Old Port, we can take the bus, for the most part. The bus service in Portland is pretty good.

So, I say to the whiners…QUITCHERBITCHIN’! No one put a gun to your head and forced you to buy a Hugh Jass Vehicle of Death. In fact, I had to talk Mike out of it years ago. Long before gas prices went as crazy as they are now.

He wanted a damned truck. I questioned this, asking WHY we needed a truck, when an econobox would do. He said that he might need to *haul shit around*. I asked him how often he’d actually be *hauling shit around*. He thought about it, and admitted that it would not be often. So we ended up buying the Ford Escort that we don’t have any more (the Focus was its replacement). And when Mike DID need to haul some shit around, he just rented a truck for the day, and that was it.

He thanks me to this day for making him see reason. Although the prices are still very high, we’re not getting killed at the pumps like some people are. We can still pretty much go about our lives as always, going to ball games an hour or two away, and not go bankrupt paying for the gas.

I love being right.

I really need to get my butt off this chair and get started on laundry. It needs to be done so I can have some stuph to pack for tomorrow, and I always seem to wait until the last minute.

It’s still supposed to be nice tomorrow, so that will be good for driving up, and for our ball game. The Sea Dogs game, as well as dinner at Fore Street on Thursday for Mike’s birthday, are the primary reasons for this trip. Oh, and going to shop at Leon’s, too. The guy from L.L. Bean called me yesterday, and told me that my order is now at the Freeport store, ready for pickup. I have to order my stuph, as they don’t have the plus-sized items out on the sales floor of the store. But at least I can have it sent to a store for pickup, otherwise I’d have to have it shipped via Federal Distress, and you know how that always seems to turn out. Not good.

And then Mike needs pants, but he can buy his off the shelf at the store. He actually needs to try them on, since he’s lost quite a bit of weight, and is not sure what size he needs now.

I just need to remember to pack my Bayer Back & Body pills. The one downside of a hotel is that most do not have a nice, firm foam mattress, like we have at home. I have a hard time sleeping on an innerspring mattress, it hurts my back too much.  But it’s only for two nights, so I’ll live.

It’s still supposed to rain in Portland on Thursday.  We have that whole day free, our dinner reservations are not until 6PM.  That might be a good time to go to L.L. Bean, or maybe we can take the bus into town and go see Iron Man.  I’ve heard from a lot of people that it is wicked good.  It’s playing at the Nickelodeon theatre in downtown Portland, maybe we can hit a matinee of that.  The hotel gives out free newspapers, I can check the listings when we get there, and see if we want to go.  A weekday matinee shouldn’t be crowded at all.

We’ll decide what to do when we get there.  Hopefully, it won’t rain after all, and we can go out on a boat.  We shall see.

Mike’s employer is having it again this year.  We don’t know what date it’s gonna be yet, but we’ve decided that we have baseball tickets for that day.  If we don’t actually have any, I’ll buy some.  At least one of the zillion minor league teams around here has to be in town on any given weekend!

The thing last year was a family-friendly event, where everyone could bring their kids, and they all went to some restaurant in Newport, RI.  I forget what else they did.  In my experience, in office party parlance, *family friendly* means that it is fun for the kids, but sucks for everyone else.  I’ve been to enough of these shindigs in my life to know how that works.  So we didn’t go to the thing last year (turned out that we really did have baseball tickets), and we won’t be going this year.

I hate office parties in general.  We don’t even go to the adults only holiday party.  Okay, we went to one, when they had it at a nice Italian restaurant.  It was back in 2004, I know this because I remember talking to the guys about the Red Sox winning the World Series.  I hardly talked to the women at all; the only thing they talked about was their kids and their activities, schools, etc.  These women all seemed to know each other, they didn’t work there, they were the wives of guys who worked for the company.  I had absolutely nothing in common with them, and they seemed very clique-ish, anyway.

But then they started having the holiday parties at flashy nightclubs, well, as flashy as they have down in Providence, RI.  Whatever…it’s jut not our thing.  I liked the restaurant better, but I guess that wasn’t flashy enough for the boss.

I often wish that companies would just do away with these stupid parties, and just divvy up the money and give it to the employees as a bonus.  It’s clear that these wives hang out together on their own time, but we really don’t socialize with any of these people at all.  Mike works with them, they’re nice enough people, but he doesn’t feel compelled to hang out with them.  We’d just rather do our own thing on the weekends.

There’s a whole bunch of guys in his office, the boss included, who are mad for soccer.  They get together to play it, and sometimes they go down to Foxboro for a New England Revolution game.  Mike has been invited to a few of the Revs games, but he’s always been able to produce actual baseball tickets as proof that he can’t make it.  He doesn’t want to come right and say that he doesn’t like soccer and doesn’t want to go…but having prior plans always works.

I’ve worked for places that give you all sorts of shit for not going to the office party, not being a *team player* and all that.  Luckily, Mike’s company is not one of these places, so once again we get to avoid the Romper Room outing, and anything else they decide to do.  As long as he shows up for work and does his job, they don’t care if you don’t want to hang out after hours.  That’s the way it SHOULD be.

Remember how the local chapter of the FFA™ (Future FELONS of America) did this to our porch?

Well, yesterday and today, it was finally *fixed*.

I’m thinking about having some sort of betting pool contest where people can guess as to how long it will be before the FFA™ comes back and breaks it again.

You can see that this guy, who isn’t exactly Norm Abram, put these strips of wood at the tops and bottoms of the spindles, supposedly to reinforce them. But I would think that a good kick, or a hit with a baseball bat, would still break those skinny little spindles.

Stupid little punks…I hate them. They are why I’m always worrying about my packages and mail delivery and stuph…they will steal anything that isn’t nailed down, and pry up anything that is and steal it. They would steal the low vision aids from a blind person, and take the walker right out from under a little old lady. Not because they actually WANT any of this stuph; they just get off on taking things that aren’t theirs to take. And vandalizing things, obviously.

And they get away with it, because the cops can’t even be arsed to come when you call them, never mind arrest the little punks.
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Anyhoo, today’s hammering coudn’t have come at a worse time. Last night I had serious trouble sleeping, because I had stomach pains…it felt like some sort of a huge gas bubble. I drank some ginger ale and then forced myself to gack it up, that helped a little. But by the time I was able to start to get at least a little sleep, the DOG-damned hammering began.

The guy was here working on this project yesterday, too. This is yet another example of the incompetent, inefficient help that the landladies here like to hire. Why he had to be here over two days is beyond me…the whole shebang could have been done in just a couple of hours. It’s not as if he made the spindles or anything, like Norm would. They just bought them, probably the cheapest ones they could find, at Lowe’s or Home Depot. All the guy had to do was attach them; Mike could have done this himself within an hour. As for the wood strips, it ain’t rocket science to measure and cut, but this took the better part of the morning, all by itself. He put them on the other side of the porch, which you can’t see in the pictures. He didn’t have to replace those spindles, they weren’t broken.

Anyhoo, no sleep for me. I finally gave up, and got up. Now the guy is finally gone, looks like he’s done. I suppose someone will be coming by to paint; I hope they come while we’re away. I don’t feel like dealing with the damned noise. Okay, so painting is less noise, but all of these skeevy workmen make way too much noise. They also sit on the porch and smoke, which is probably a big part of why they take forever to get the work done. And then the stinky cigarette smell seeps into the house though the mail slot (which was also crappily installed by one of these guys). Then I have to bust my ass getting the smell out, before Mike comes home, smells it, and gets sick. He is severely allergic to cigarette smoke.

It will be nice to get out of here for a few days, that’s for sure!