Scribblings from the Mitchy Side

Your Musical Tastes Match: Jennifer Garner

See her whole playlist here (iTunes required)

Hee! At least it's a celebrity I've a) heard of and b) like :)

In other news, watched the football earlier, saw Arsenal's first Premiership game of the season. Tough old match, and if not for a questionable refereeing decision by Alan Bennett in sending off Newcastle's Jermaine Jenas, I think Arsenal would have been very lucky. As it was, it took a penalty in the 80th minute for them to get on the score sheet and they cruised the last ten minutes.

I don't like the colour of the new Arsenal home shirts. They've changed the shade of red from bright red to something more wine coloured. I like the colour as a colour, I just miss the old red shirts.

Leeds drew 0-0 yesterday, so so far this season we've won, drawn and lost :P Good to know we're going to encompass the whole range of options - not :P

I haven't done any of the chores I meant to this weekend. I am a bad, fat and lazy Mitchy. *sighs* Must make an effort during the week to do more. I did finally get around to taking out the bin bags, mostly because there was something fuzzy growing in the top of the bag that was in the bin. Ick.

I had to take Rob the Furball to the vet yesterday. Nothing wrong but he needed more flea stuff and a worming tablet. However there's a new regulation in place that says vets can't dispense drugs unless they've seen the cat in the previous 12 months. Which makes sense, sorta, but I don't think it'll convince people to look after their cats any better. Possibly it's to stop people getting hold of harder stuff that can be sold elsewhere. Anyway, the upshot was I had to make an appointment to see the nurse - the checkup was free, thank god, else I'd have complained loudly. They kindly found a spot for me yesterday morning which prevented me from having to miss work and lose pences.

Rob was his usual furry self. Disappeared the minute he saw me locking the cat flap. Vast experience, however, has taught me how to painlessly catch him: shut all doors leading off hall, creating dead end. Go into lounge, roust him out from either behind the sofa or under the curtains (this is easy). He will then make a break for the cat flap, leaving me to saunter into the hall, closing the lounge door behind me. I usually pick him up curled up by the cat flap, where he will be yowling miserably. Bless. He doesn't struggle much and it's easy enough to get him into the carrier. Time for whole process - two minutes :)

He was exceptionally well behaved in the vets, charming the nurse who pronounced him fine and doled out the drugs. He will almost certainly need another descaling and polishing of his teeth at some point but that will have to wait until I've paid off some of the holiday. It's not serious or very urgent but I must get it done by Christmas at the latest.

Got him home, let him out of the carrier and he shot behind the sofa for the traditional post-vet visit sulk. Nothing unusual, I figured he'd forgive me around tea time. Well, sure enough, he did come to nudge me around 6pm for his food, but when I went to put the food down, he panicked and bolted out of cat flap. Unfortunately for him it was pelting with rain, so he was forced to slink back shortly afterwards. When I had the temerity to go to the kitchen, I got angry yowling, ears flattened on head and unhappy huddling at end of hall. *shakes head* **

Today? He's bright as a button, furry and affectionate, wanting fuss and tummy tickling. All is right with his world. Daft as a brush, that cat!

** I felt slightly better knowing that while he was bolting his food for fear I'd walk past again, he inhaled his worming tablet at the same time :D

It's official, I'm a sporting jinx.

The evidence for the prosecution:-

1. Last night, the Texas Rangers clawed their way back into the game with the detested New York Yankees, to level things at 5-5. I, checking the scores on mlb.com, am jubilantly telling kemintiri that it's all square and in extra innings. I don't even get to finish the sentence before the scoreboard refreshes and I see the Yankees have just scored 2 runs, thus winning the match.



2. This afternoon, I'm online, but I have the Wigan v. Chelsea match on in the lounge and can hear enough of the match to tell if anyone scores or something major happens. For the benefit of those who don't follow soccer, Wigan have just been promoted into the Premier Division and are a tiny, tiny football club. Chelsea, on the other hand, won the football league championship last year, have a team that cost about £165 million to put together and a squad that looks like someone's fantasy football team. For 93 minutes of play, Wigan hold Chelsea to a 0-0 draw. I, having avoided looking for the entire game because I'm taping the match, make the mistake of glancing at the TV as I scamper through the lounge to the kitchen, just in time to see Chelsea score the winning goal with 30 frickin' seconds of play left.



3. This evening, I watch the Mets play the Dodgers. Pedro Martinez is pitching and is fun to watch as usual. The Mets are winning 1-0. Bottom of the 7th innings, I realise, belatedly, that Pedro is on a no-hitter (A no-hitter, for non-baseball fans, is the Holy Grail of pitching in baseball. It means that for 9 innings, a pitcher prevented the batsmen from scoring a "hit". A batsman may hit the ball successfully, but it's only a hit if the batter reaches 1st base safely). For seven innings, Pedro has prevented them doing just this and I excitedly mention the fact to jenni411. What happens next innings? Pedro gives up a triple and a home run, giving the Dodgers a 2-1 lead, not only ruining his no hitter, but also, as it turns out, costing the Mets the game.

The prosecution rests, m'lud.



The defence has absolutely nothing to say at this time except....

WAH!!!

*headdesks*