I am not a photographer.

I got to thinking yesterday about those holiday photo "cards" you get in the mail of people's kids; and for some reason decided it would be fun to make something like those but with my pets (since I have no kids). When I got home from work, I constructed a "studio" in my kitchen consisting of a red fuzzy blanket & some Christmas-y colored embellishments. It was pretty much a total failure. My sister, who promised to be my pet-wrangler, mostly just laid on the floor (inexplicably). Pancakes refused to go anywhere near the "set"...Lil had to be bribed with catnip, and Rufus refused to come out of his dressing room. So here's some results for early holiday enjoyment:

Pathetic.

The only way to get Lil anywhere near the set was to spray concentrated catnip all over it.

Pancakes wouldn't sit nice on the blanket, but he would lounge everywhere AROUND it.

She actually looks like she's smiling here, huh? That's my layabout sister under the smiley face.

I like this picture of Lil.

This would have been a really nice picture of Pancakes; but again, I am not a photographer.

The only halfway decent picture of the whole session.

Lord of the Puppies

Things are kind of quiet at work today; I presume most non-essential personnel have already started their holiday. I decided to check out Puppy Cam this morning to break the monotony. To my horror, as Hench described before in a text message, the puppies had gone all LA riots on the Pee Pad. I took a series of screenshots to document this dark day in puppy history. Also; someone was pooping in picture #3.

OEF Scientists - Christmas Embargo

After putting together hundreds of charts for my day job, I'm beginning to see the merits of these things. It's simple really, you plug in data and look for disparities. Sharp inclines or declines are signs of major change. A steady line or overall even-ness indicates a balance or a plateau. In order to charge the charts, you look at the factors involved and try to figure which aspects of it you can change. This year I decided to take a look at Christmas and analyze where my money is going and what kinda input I'm getting for my output.

Here are my findings:

The number of presents given to the number of presents received is staggering. That little slice of pie is less than the desert cup at KFC.
Plan to fix this: Give less presents.

The reason I'm not getting as much presents as I'm getting is simple, note the crap- present-people spike. I give these people nice presents and get LOTIONS - those are not presents..they are punishments. I'd rather have nothing than lotion.
Plan to fix this: Give less presents.

Finally, I'm getting crappy presents because the value of good presents vs. my actual present budget is pretty horrid.
Plan to fix this: Give Less Presents.


The holidays are tough. I figure I can buy a Cube of Mt. Dew and mail everyone I know a soda. No one is left out and nothing says Leslie like Mt. Dew.

Thank goodness I have the technology.

My .15 Seconds of Internet Fame

I've been a fan of Cake Wrecks for a few months...and my Monday was instantly awesome when I discovered that a wreck I submitted---this lil wonder here from my local ACME supermarket, was actually featured today.

I agree with some commenters that it's not a total executional wreck, aside from the smudged eyes & bleeding smile---but it's the subject matter that's baffling. Who's looking for an ear of corn cake?

This guy doesn't look particularly harvesty...it might have made sense in say, July, when Jersey is bursting with this type of corn.

Lil Bit, the foster wonder!

We had a foster dog last weekend! We only had him for 42 hours, but we still had him!

His name was Lil Bit. He is a Dachshund-Beagle mix, and he only weighed 13 pounds!

Isn't he adorable?

I picked him up on Friday night after work. He was so small, the transport lady brought him in a cat carrier.

He marked up our house, and humped everything that moved. Anytime somebody sat on the couch or the floor he would hump that person's back, and if anyone stood still, he would hump a leg. And he would hold on tight with his two front paws. I started spraying him with a water bottle, like you do with cats, and he would get this wounded look on his face, and slink away.

He also liked the cat tree, and jumped in it several times:


Shortie hated him because, well, all the humping.

The cats hated him too, at first. Then Barney got sick of Lil Bit coming into his territory (the bedroom) and chased him out and down the stairs.

When I realized it was really quiet downstairs, I peered over the railing and saw Barney just laying in front of the tv in the living room. He had been hiding behind a chair in the bedroom until then.

I leaned over a little farther and saw Lil Bit sitting on the arm of the couch, totally "treed" by Barney.

This is Barney:

On Sunday we took him to an adoption event, where this little Italian boy fell in love with him after Lil Bit licked his face. After much begging and pleading from the little boy, the family decided to adopt him.

They were the cutest family! The boy was 8 and his little sister was 5. Lil Bit was the 8 year old's birthday present. As I was leaving their house after the "home visit" the little girl hugged me, she was so excited.

And Lil Bit? His name is now Scooby!! Hahaha.

I hope he will be a good dog for them, and will stop all the humping. It might mess the kids all up.

Current Events

hot.cold.PEOPLE - A Craigslist like rant

I realize the double entendre in the title. I'd just like to take a moment to rant about a major issue I'm having with people of the opposite internal body temperature.

I grew up in a colder part of Virginia. School bus temps hovered in the 20/30's usually from the 2nd week of September on. That kinda cold requires coats, socks, thermal gear of sorts and at times those heat pockets that hunters use to keep their toes from growing numb. In the beginning, you shiver. You keep quiet and hover together, but after a few months of this - you start to adapt. I rarely if ever am cold.

Then I moved here. There's not really snow. Cold here is 40 degrees. I usually love the winter because I can hide my god awful shorts (which have been cut increasing worse as years go by). I go outside and love the cold (when it's not raining abysmally like today). I come to work and my office is 88 DEGREES. I'm wearing a turtleneck, a peacoat, scarf and gloves and get hit by equatorial-like heat wave. I immediately remove the clothes I can remove and try to get cozy in my office, but it's still 88 degrees in a turtle neck.

So today after a 3 month long heat endurance-a-thon with my coworker, I finally broke. Once she restored the heat to 90 after I turned it down to 70; I actually began to peel off my clothes.

"Burr, I'm so chilly" - she says.

I look at her with sweat dripping off my nose, REALLY?? I'm sorry, I'm going to start removing clothes. If you don't leave the thermostat alone I'm going to take off my clothes.

"The heat's been off for like..AN HOUR" - she says.

"I'm am really going to take off my clothes. I'm starting with my shoes. Your choice." And I meant it. I mean it.

Cold natured people, here's the thing: I'm sorry you are cold.
Here's what will help: don't wear shorts, short skirts, or blouses that require camisoles without camisoles. Coats are cute, fashionable, and fun. I don't want you freeze to death.

Questions I can answer about me:
75 degrees indoors is acceptable.
I don't want to run the AC in the winter either.
Am I cold with my sleeveless shirt? NO. I have a coat for outside and it's 88 in here.
I'm not having hot flashes or have any sorta sickness. It's hot in here!!

Sweat is for places that are not work. Heat is fine, but if you are THAT cold you need to go crawl under the house with the other vampires, find some blood and get it checked.

I realize that this is not a very nice blog, but I'm hotter than the pie maker at the end of Sweeney Todd.

An Email Forward posing as Content

Cattina sent me this and it reminded me of how my mom speaks in a voice for Baby Cat aka B*tch . And how G does a killer "Lil"...

I totally didn't write this and don't know who did but I think it's funny.

From a Dog's Diary

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm -Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!*

From a Cat's Daily Diary

Day 983 of my captivity.****
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I am fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now................*

Carolannarama, November 2008

I skipped this for '07, and I apologize for the lackluster showing here. I've been trying to get this done for almost a week, but I kept getting sidetracked. Anyway, enjoy.


1 . Fuzzle

I spend waaaay more hours than I'd like to admit playing this game on my iPhone. Sadly, that has not improved my score much.

2. Orange Soda

For the last few months, I've been on quite the orange soda kick. Not all the time, mind you. I'm still a mostly-Pepsi drinking gal, but Orange soda is creeping up in the ranks. As pictured here, A-Treat is the best orange soda on the planet. A-Treat is a soda maker based in Allentown, Pennsylvania and they make all kinds of crazy flavors like mango & grapefruit soda. If you ever find yourself in Pennsylvania, stop in a beer distributors for a sixer of A-Treat. You won't be sorry!


3. Puppycam!

Holy crap. Ever since Hench e-mailed me this link, my officemate Heather and I have been transfixed. We have identified distinct personality traits in the puppies (Purple can be an aggressive jerk, and Blue is a mellow fellow). I can't get enough of their fat little bellies. Gawker had an insightful commentary about the puppies and their meaning. All I know is that this is way better than owning an actual puppy. There's no chance of stepping in an illicit pee whilst wearing just socks on the way through the kitchen.

4. Charlie Gibson

Charlie is my man when it comes to network news. By the time network news rolls around, we've all read/heard about any pertinent news of the day, so we're not here to learn anything really. I just like Charlie & his tagline, "I hope you had a good day."

5. Glitter

I get tasked with lots of random things at the hospital; and among them is to decorate bulletin boards. This has fostered a rather alarming penchant for spray-gluing & covering things in glitter. The housekeeping people are thrilled with this.


6. Cringe

Back before the internet made it so easy & graphically pleasing to reveal your soul; people had to write in diaries & crap. This book is a compilation of teenage diary/journal entries with present-day commentary from the authors. Genius!

7. Kings of Leon

Just nice rock & roll, man; though I do enjoy all the lore about them. The drunken fights & songwriting.

One state made me smile a little bigger than the rest...

5 Degrees of Long Line Wackadoodle

Hour 1: The Pro
I say to the people around me, "I've voted here before at least 6 times. It never takes more than 45 minutes. PLUS, we're here before the lunchtime push. This'll take an hour tops."

Hour 2: Denial
Upon seeing a disheveled red-eyed UPS truck driver emerging from the building shouting "6 HOURS! 6 HOURS!" My patient-energetic heart simply ignores Mr. UPS man. How can MY little precinct take 6 hours. I also ignore the Channel 13 News Team asking people how long they have been in line, in favor of discreetly listening to my ipod.
If I had a time machine Id watch this.

Hour 3: The Insanity of Hope
At this point, I'm in the elementary school with what felt like 2000 people and children and their grandparents cram/jammed in a little hallway. I start texting my friends for encouragement, but find that my frustration manifests in ugly ways. The smell of crayons and sweat and glue and rain all meld together. I wonder why my friends were in and out of the polling office in 2 hours or 2 minutes and I have been put in the purgatory mother of all hellish waiting lines. Hallway after hallway of people standing and people are texting me about HOPE. Wha....!!

Hour 4: Leslie vs. the Volcano.
If you have walked to the edge of a precipice, you mas well dive in. Me and the members of the line are no longer voters. We are a tribe. When one becomes tired, we find them a chair. If one becomes hungry we get them water. And if one tries to LEAVE, we remind them not of the election..but of how FAR we have come; how many hallways traversed, how many hallways unseen.

Hour 5: The Prize
When passing through the final gates, me and my tribe were rewarded with a small 2-inch trophy. Any other election this would be trivial, minutiae even but today it's an honor bestowed as a right of passage. The "I VOTED City of Norfolk" Award. I returned back into the sunlight to show off my badge to the "fresh meat" outside. I will have it laminated tomorrow.

I have never stood in line this long for anything. Not registering for class, a concert line, or even the COOLEST ride at any amusement park. It was an excercise in patience and I will sleep well knowing I did my part. Now I can complain.

Oh, BTW

The Philadelphia Phillies are WORLD FUCKING CHAMPIONS.

I've never claimed to be any sort of super sports fan or aficionado, but I do enjoy rooting for the home team. I was scorned in '93 at the tender age of 14 when Mitch Williams gave it up to Joe Carter; and I'd be lying if I didn't get a little misty last week over this whole thing.

It occurred to me, that through all of the BS that has transpired; between my 4 siblings and myself, that we were all doing the same exact thing at the same time---watchin the Phils win the World Series. And how different are since the last time that happened. It's so pithy, but still true.

I have a favorite Phillies/family memory that is decidedly un-PC. My dad had a VHS recording of when Michael Jack Schmidt retired (I think). We were watching it probably in '93ish, when Darren Daulton was the current catcher and resident giant hunk of manmeat on the team. On the tape, during the ceremony, a young Dutch Daulton came out to present something, looking about 14 years old and scrawny. Before I could even remark; my dad just said, "Yeah, that's when he was gay." It's totally wrong, but still hilarious and silly.

Oh, and that time that Mickey Morandini had an unassisted triple-play. That was kind of cool, too.

My TV Saving Grace

Mitch Hedberg had a joke about eating a good food with a bad food, and when they get to your stomach the good food would cover for the bad food. If this theory were to be applied to my television-watching habits; Mad Men has a lot of 'splainin to do.

I finally got around to watching the Mad Men Season 2 (and possibly series, boo) finale last night; and the scene with Peggy & Pete (pictured here, Elisabeth Moss & Vincent Kartheiser) makes me want to cry all day it's so good.

If they cancel this, and HBO or Bravo doesn't pick it up right quick, there will be beatings. That is all.

Leslie's um..diary:

Caffeine Intake -
1 - 24 oz 7-11 Pumpkin Spice (Obama Cup of Course)
1 - 20 oz Mt. Dew

Attempted Kisses made on my persons by Coworker Senior Gramma/Great Aunt types - 3 overall (only one today).
Declarations of Love by coworkers - 4 overall (one today by same C.S.G.G.A.T)

Coif/Mane Scale - 1 star (out of a potential 5) - I slept in much too late to fix it and at this point am happy I could find my brush.

Nothing extraordinarily spectacular is going on today. Most of my friends are just praying to the heavens that they can get out and vote in some sorta timely manner and that nothing goes wrong. Dems are accustomed to losing and coming close to the dream but never actually getting their hands on it. It's a cautious excitement going into Nov. 4th. I have put my pins and propaganda away for the moment in favor of a silent eye gesture until Wednesday. Hopefully then, I'll be moonwalking around my building, with a matching Jacko "yeehee, wooooo" sound.

It'll be sad not to see Tim Russert with his dry erase board tomorrow, but I have no doubt Chuck Todd will make us proud.

In the less monumentally important world changing news front, I'm working on acting like a feeling-non-robotic-part of the human race. I realized this morning I wasn't reacting appropriately when people use the "Love bomb" on me at work. A senior member of the human resources staff affectionately called Huggy Bear gave me a big unexpected hug and kiss (slightly west of my cheek) and then said she loved me. To which I responded, "yes..um. well... - enjoy your coffee!!" and sorta fell out of her office." EEK! Another coworker looked at me and said scoldingly "Lessssslie??, Hug Her.." I did, but was totally bewildered at the whole interchange.
There's no crying in baseball (unless you were a BoSox fan prior to 2004) and no love declarations at work!

Co-worker P had/has a very noticeable sore throat issue and keeps saying she wants to take off tomorrow. To which I respond.."Do it. It's a good idea."
Then she responds.."well I think I will."
Then I say, "you should."
And she says, "well maybe".
At this point I'm thinking I'm not being asked, I'm just merely a sounding board while she voices these ideas out loud. It's not that I don't care, but P's work attendance really doesn't affect me at all and I have trouble fostering concern when I actually just don't care. Am I robotic?

Will be glad to get tomorrow over with for better or for worse.
Vote Yall!