If you haven't read this article about whether today's children are overprotected, you really shouldn't feel good about yourself.

(via finslippy)

Ever sit in a meeting with a colleague and watch her be so unable to think on her feet or consider a new idea that she does what political candidates do in debates -- says whatever she planned to say, regardless of the question or suggestion?

I haven't ever had that happen.

In a small detour from my "All Cats, All the Time" theme of late, allow me to discuss my feet today. Okay, not my feet exactly, but my toes. Actually, not my toes exactly, but the hair on them. Well, not the hair on my toes, exactly, but the hypothetical hair on the hypothetical toes of a woman who has hypothetically been wearing sandals since the last snow melted in the northeast.

It seems to me that this alleged hair used to get lighter in summer as, ahem, one's skin also got progressively darker from exposure to the sun. Is this no longer the case because of the SPF of jagilliontyleven that people are using nowadays? Or is the hair getting darker, denser, and more indestructible with every year that goes by, until it actually outlives one's mortal flesh?

And, hypothetically, how much do you think it would add to the cost of a brow wax to have the toes done at the same time? One's hypothetical readers and one are dying to know.

You know how your own job, family, relationship, car, children, etc., can seem really annoying until you get a big ol' taste of your friend's job/family/relationship/car/children, and yours suddenly seems exponentially better, even fantastic?

It's like that with cats, too.

I mentioned yesterday that I'm checking in on my neighbor's two humongously hairy cats while said neighbor is at the Cape this week. I alluded to the tumbleweeds formed in her home as a result of the shedding of the aforementioned hairy kitties. What I didn't mention is that one of the cats has a penchant for pooping in the tub. Daily, as it turns out. My neighbor had mentioned that Cat Number One sometimes does #2 in the tub, and asked that I check there regularly. She also mentioned, very casually, that Cat Number Two occasionally does #1 outside of the litter box, on the tile floor in the bathroom. And naturally, them being hairy, I understood that there would be a hairball or two to clean up from time to time. What I didn't expect, when I stopped in this morning to feed, water, and clean up after them, was for one or both of them to have left four (yes, 4) pools of vomitty vomit in various places around the living room and kitchen areas, PLUS a huge hairball surrounded by more dried vomit right. in. the. dry food. bowl, thereby ruining the dry food for everyone. Not to mention ruining any thought I had of consuming any meals today.

Oh, and yeah, there was a big warm pile of poop in the tub, and a nice pool of pee right next to the litter box.

And there they were, trying to love me up while I cleaned up after them and set out fresh food and water, and they looked at me when I opened the door to leave as if to say, "But wait! You didn't snuggle with us! Or brush us! Or scratch us!" You bet your hairy tuches I didn't, girlfriends, 'cause I was gonna be late for work after having to scrape up your dried poop and vomit off of half the surfaces in the house.

Olivia is officially The Best Cat in the Entire World today, and that's despite the tiny bit of undigested food she left me on the dining area carpet this morning. It's the first time in over a week that she's done it and, besides, it was a one-paper-towel job.

My pirate name, because I know you've been dying to know, is Captain Ethel Rackham. (Via Beth). Go get your own.

I don't know how people with long-haired cats handle it. As it is, one short-haired cat keeps me in more tumbleweeds than a deserted street in an old western movie. I'd probably have to vacuum more than once every six months if I had a long-hair.

I watched Double Indemnity this morning. I've always meant to rent it but there's always something else that catches my eye in the video store or the TV listings. I've never seen Fred MacMurray as anyone other than the dad on "My Three Sons," as best I can recall*, and I was glad that I was able to block out the imaginary sound of him calling out to Chip and Ernie to stop whatever damn fool thing they were doing. He did a fine job, but Barbara Stanwyck was spectacular, and Edward G. Robinson (never seen him before -- only the imitators) was a revelation. I know, I know; for someone who claims to be a fan of Billy Wilder (favorite movie: "Some Like It Hot"; deeply love "The Apartment," the original "Sabrina," and "The Front Page; deeply respect "The Lost Weekend" and "The Major and the Minor," just to name a few that come to mind), how could I have failed to see one of his masterpieces before today? Eh, I'm obviously just a poser. Still, good movie.

I watched the Tony Awards last week and it really made me want to have a private jet or helicopter or something so that I could get to NYC frequently (and without traffic or parking issues) to see lots of plays and musicals. Oh, especially the musicals. Holy crap, I can never get enough of Rogers and Hammerstein ("South Pacific," anyone?) or, frankly, most of those incredibly talented actors, singers, dancers, and set/costume/technical folks. I wish I had any actual talent for performance, 'cause pretending to be someone else and singing (I could skip the dancing) all day would be my dream gig.

If you didn't catch "Eli Stone" on ABC this past season, here's your chance to catch the first two episodes: They're airing on ABC at 10 p.m. (Eastern) on the next 2 Saturday nights (6/28 and 7/5). Hopefully they will re-air the whole series (available on DVD in September) and you'll know why so many of us found it to be such a pleasure. Set your TiVO, DVR, VCR, or whatever -- the fact that it's being shown on Saturday nights is absolutely no excuse for you to miss it. (Again.)

It's another tremendous day outside. I'd better get out and enjoy it while I can; I hear some more rain and thunderstorms are expected later. Toodles for now!

* Turns out I have seen Fred MacMurray in something else: The Shaggy Dog. And I can still say that "Double Indemnity" is the first, uh, serious dramatic role I've ever seen him tackle.

Via this editorial from a few weeks ago (with the premise of which I don't entirely agree, but that's a post for another day), I found this video that highlights how sexist our political commentators, legislators, and media in general have become. I understand that a lot of people, and perhaps in particular many media pundits, heartily dislike Hillary Clinton and, therefore, her bid for the Democratic nomination for president. What I don't understand is the vitriol, the focus on appearance, the apparent hatred of women in general, that is revealed in this series of clips compiled by the Women's Media Center. Say what you will about whether this particular woman was the right one for the job; the comments captured in the video montage make it clear that we as a nation have made far less progress than I think most of us believed we had. It is, truly, enough to make me weep.

Why do you think people say something is "going South" when it's bad, but no one ever says something good is "going North"? I say we all try it out the other way for a week.

"It's a good thing my grades are going North this semester."

"Then Jones joined our team, and the whole project went North from there."

Now you try.

It's that time again, folks! Yep, you guessed it: It's Freshman Orientation time, and the streets of the city are even more clogged than usual with outtatowners who are even worse at observing the rules of the road (and the sidewalk) than our very own beloved Massh0les.

Today, I eavesdropped on the parents of an incoming freshman asking the following questions (N.B. the student was nowhere to be seen):

1) If Stevie's grades take a nosedive in his freshman year, as we hear they sometimes do, will that affect his scholarship? (Uh, you think?)

2) Should we make our hotel reservations for his graduation right away? (Only if you're sure he's going to recover from that crappy freshman year and actually graduate from this school -- and presumably within only 4 years.)

3) How often should we call him? (Seriously? If you're like most parents, it'll be several times a day regardless of what anyone suggests. Are you looking for permission?)

4) What if his dorm isn't right near his classes? Will he have to wake up earlier? Does he have to take the "T"? (Well, you could always come and pick him up every day.)