Have you seen this kitty?

I have added one more thing to my chump Happy, Optimistic List of Stuff I'm Totally Going to do in 2009, WhOOOO!!

#100 - learn to parallel park

Yes, ladies and germs, that's right - I do not know how to parallel park. If I do anything downtown, I leave 30 minutes early because I know I will spend 20 minutes driving in ever-widening circles around my destination, 3 seconds in a highly illegal and blood-curdling Steve McQueen manuever when I find a free spot that I can nose into, 2 minutes hunting for change before I realize that duh, it's Saturday, the meters are free and the next 7 minutes, 59 seconds walking 6 blocks to my destination. People wonder why I do all my drinking at home.

Well, that and the extreme effort it takes me to put on shoes and a bra. Let us not speak of makeup.

So yes, my list does not end on a 9 anymore, but that's OK. According to Nikol's Uberlist rules, I have until the 8th the formalize it, so something may get dropped. Or more may get added (that breathing thing is getting more and more difficult) so I may end up with 109 after all.

And no, mom, I couldn't just do 9. I sat down to write the list and came up with 38 pretty quickly. No good can come of a list that stops at 38 - it's a weird number. I just don't like the way it looks. Of course, it's also how old I'll be this year. I may have to lie about my age for the first time in my entire life, just so I don't have to write such an unsettling number.

I've already managed to deal with one of the things on The HOLOSITGTOI'09W! (henceforth called the Holy Sit Go) as you may have noticed if you tuned in Wednesday. That's right - I scheduled my mammogram.

I am petrified.

No, I'm not scared they'll find something. If they do, they do, I'll deal with it (which is my way of saying "lallallalaa no lumps here, lalallaaa".) I'm scared of the actual test. I'm a tall woman with big boobs, so I have this very clear mental picture of me, crouched down, left breast mostly wedged into the machine when some tech decides it's too low and wwhhhhiiirrrr - I'm lifted up off the floor by my tit.

I don't care if it's realistic, I don't care if they actually have George Clooney look-a-likes in there, feeding me pina coladas to calm me down. I am freaked out. Jef is going with me - here's hoping he'll work like a big, blue-eyed, tattooed valium.

I started this on Friday and now it's Sunday night and one of our kitties has gone missing. He has a habit of darting out the door if we leave it open a millisecond longer than absolutely necessary, but since we know about this, we try to keep an eye out for him. We turned this place upside down and can't find him. Sigh. Stupid cat.

Now I'm off to drink a big glass of water and get my stuff together for tomorrow (not a resolution, I just hate standing naked and pre-caffeine in my closet, trying to figure out a work outfit that doesn't involve the jammie pants I just took off.)

Y'all be good.