upon the eve of 33 / some random Hoga-joys for thee

Do you follow my Twitter feed? (my latest tweets are always up there ^^^ ). I say all this really witty stuff. Well that and I regurgitate the things I love that come across from those I follow. So usually I leave my blog for talky crap about my life, and my Tweets for …  tweety stuff.  But today there was an abundance of awesomeness and I need to share.  Like:

1. Bill Withers, live, performing “Ain’t No Sunshine”:

This song is simply wonderful, and seeing a live performance (and that band! That drummer!) well… Jeebus. Awesome.  I watched it twice and what do you know, the second time it came up awesome again.  Apparently we have a documentary currently playing on this amazing songwriter and performer. And I’m going to see this film, absolutement, yes, even if that means having to hear “Lean on Me” for the one millionth time.

2. Growing up, my family loved watching movies together – hailing from back when we’d get a few VHS tapes once a week and rent a massive, heavy VCR in a handled molded plastic case to play them on our dinky television. And we loved playing “that guy”.  Like we saw John McGinley in about a dozen movies as a bad guy or weaselly henchman (this is before he made mainstream fame in the television program “Scrubs”) but we didn’t know his name so we called him “Butthole Face” (or okay, my mom and brother did, because of his thin lips I think).  Anyway, I was surprised at some of the faces in this linked article, but reading the criteria made so much sense.  And I’ve always had an affinity for “that guy” (or gal) – the actor who may not get the awards or gripping character writing but gets the work.

3. Today Kate Harding published a great article addressing our First Lady in response to the latter’s childhood obesity campaign.  Most things Kate writes are pretty great, and on-point, and smart, and compassionate, and kick-ass, and relevant.  Her writings are kind of like bacon – no wait, gilded bacon! – but instead of eating it you’re reading it and realizing she’s awesome and you wish you were that smart about stuff that matters but you’re glad someone is.

And in the non-internet and kind-of-awesome-but-sob! vein: today I got a card from the veterinarian who saw us through Blackie’s last bit of life on this planet.  On the front of the card, pawprints and everything, and: “Your life was a blessing, your memory a gift of joy… you are loved beyond words and missed behond measure.  Our Sympathy.” On the inside:

To The Hogaboom Family,

I just wanted to take a minute to say I am very sorry for your loss of Blackie.  With a diagnosis of lung cancer we can know that there was not more we could have done, and that her suffering is over.  One of the hardest choices we have to make in our pet’s life comes at the end, and it never seems easy to know when it’s okay to say good-bye.  I know that you made the right choice for Blackie.  Best Regards, E.

Yeah. So… there’s that.  One awesome vet, let me tell you.  And vets are just about the kindest people on earth, because they send you a card, and they are there with you at the end.  Life should be like this.

Oh, and tomorrow’s my birfday. 33.  I’m loving this number.

the pet update, because i know you’re on the edge of your seat.

I’m not sure what was more silly: the decadent sleep-poses I was able to pry my cat into (upside down on my lap, paws in the air) or the fact Ralph, my mother, and my brother would lean forward and watch avidly for each position change.

Our other little cat, Blackie, appears to be sick. She has a cold and seems even smaller and bonier than usual. Well, and more to the point – she’s been out and out asking for affection constantly. We set up a vet appointment for her ASAP. I could stand to see her gain some weight but I don’t mind the lovey-ness.

My mom attempted to get me interested in watching a German Shepherd for a town acquaintance. This is the dog I want in my life, someday. And I would jump at if it weren’t for certain future living arrangements. In our future. Yes, I said future twice. I like to think about the future. I have declined to consider babysitting a dog for fear of succumbing, idiotically, to overwhelming temptation.

Our chicknz are almost four months old. Ralph is a proud papa of fluffy, squawky twins.

He still wants a goat. Nope.

And finally: Sophie is going to do some research and, if she plays her cards right (in fact what should I ask for in exchange? I really have her over the barrell on this one) she will get an anole for the new year.