thea lux (dot) com

blustery

Haven’t had much energy to say much as of late.

Computer store keeps me exhausted and no real new acting projects.  Music with the new band is being formulated slowly.  I’m alive, slightly bored inside…  I have a few posts that need editing and the cat is restless.

while on vacation

What better things to do when I’m tipsy on daiquiri and purposely bed ridden with “Dirty Jobs” is on the cable teevees than to advise you to read the three star Chicago Tribune review for my lovelies with The New Colony.

Or understand that it’s Reader Recommended.

Or enjoyed by the folks at Centerstage and Chicago Theatre Addict.

Now back to my “Dirty Jobs” broadcast.

vacation prep

Going on vacation to Puerto Rico where there is apparently something called “heat” and “sunshine.”  Even though it’s considered US territory, that’s a foreign concept to me.  But when looking at the weather report I see something more familiar to my vocabulary, “rain and thunderstorms.”  Hopefully that’s not Spanish weather talk for “tropical storm.”

Also prepping for swimsuits and traveling.  Bikini waxes, even basic ones, make the female region so much more amusing than usual.  Pained and raw after the initial procedure, the freshly shorn pelvis appears vulnerable, injured even, as the non-waxed area is surrounded by a moat of seemingly sunburned skin.  If you ever had trouble locating a woman’s genitals, never fear; a waxing will clearly outline the approximate region.  Also after a waxing, if you put your ear close and listen hard enough you can hear the faint crying of Gloria Steinem.

Eight minutes of small talk while a woman rips out your follicles.  55 dollars (plus tip) for a week without razor burn.  God I love beauty and being so beautiful.  Now, it’s not like I’m craving an hour long session or need endless small talk from the esthetician as she’s noodling with my noodle parts.  It’s difficult to talk about the weather (and you know that poor girl must have to talk about the goddamn weather with every goddamn client who comes in all the goddamn time) when every three seconds you’re attempting not to wince or bleed from your eyes.  But 55 bucks for 8 minutes?  That’s more painful than the waxing.  At least compliment my socks or something.  But hey, no razor burn, right Gloria?  Beauty is so worth it and I love being full of beauty.

And with that too much information, I’ll be on vacation now.

occurrences

The poor mums are all so very sad.

• I am contemplating cutting off my neighbors legs so they stop impersonating elephants playing Wii Step Aerobics.
• I am going on vacation in less than a week to a tropical(ish) place that will cause my skin to burn and mock my underground lifestyle.
• I am awaiting the arrival of my very first credit card in the mail.
• Our ceiling is leaking from our upstairs neighbor’s faulty sink.  Upon repair, I expect that the workmen will carelessly let the cat out of the apartment.  (A past maintenance experience proved this to be true and we found our cat locked in our neighbor’s apartment instead of ours.)
• I am drinking a Red Stripe.
• The band (version 2.0) met last week and we’re wrestling with what to call ourselves.  After being protected with the intentionally retarded name “Let’s Get Out of This Terrible Sandwich Shop,” it becomes apparent that it’s slightly hard to make a band name sound not retarded.
• Today I have been obsessed with this:  Dead Flies Art (15 pics

whiiiiiiiz in spaaaace

And at the risk of being the chick who posts every other time about her cat or its shitting habits, I’m going to do precisely that.  I’m only a stone’s throw away from writing about poop or balls or poopy balls at any given time anyway, so…

The funk of a cat’s butt waste can be tamed with the right kind of litter, we’ve found.  (Let’s see what poor soul finds this site after that Google search.)  There’s no amazing place to put a cat box in my apartment, but you never want to be “that place that smells like cat” so to curb the smell of the actual litter now, we’re trying out what I’ll call THE DOME.

We, as in the Royal We, as in The Cat and her #1 and #2 habits, are being coaxed out of using the standard Box and into the Spaaaaaaace Box-ox-0x-0x. (Cup your hands to add your own echo.)

Now, it is risky to change a cat’s poo box. I tried using cedar litter once.  A+ on smell and eliminating odor.  Also A+ in making the cat feel the need to piss everywhere but the cedar-smelling box.  It was amazingly effective in that respect. I was nervous for change that might cause my cat to explode.  After all, it seemed like the Space Box might make for cramped quarters, kind of like the restroom at a local Mexican restaurant.  But even though my knees were touching the wall and I contemplated sitting side-saddle, I did not choose to piss in the sink or floor in protest.

Assuming she doesn’t reject this litter box and tolerates doing her business on the set of 2001 a Space Odyssey , we’ll eventually ween her off of the old box. I’m hoping that the future pod treats the cat well enough for her to maintain her sense of decency.  Cats should piss in a box or an igloo with older turds and whizzes, not in a corner like an animal.