Roxy Bisquaint

I was a physicist, an architect and some sort of killer. I also lived in the 1940s during one of these lives. I feel certain of these things... except that I don't think I really believe in reincarnation.

One zit at a time, please.

Sincerely,
Roxy

I've decided to make some packaging for my TSCC action figures because any respectable figure should have it's own awesome package design. Before getting started, I wanted to browse through some action figure packages to check card sizes, familiarize myself with what info is on them and also see if there were some plastic bubbles I could pillage the for my own packages. So I wandered down to the basement where all my carded action figures are stored. Some are in boxes on shelving and some are in storage carts.

Before I go any further, this is not some insanely huge collection I have; it's leftover inventory that I've been too lazy to liquidate ($5,000 worth of crap no one wants). BTW if anyone wants a Darth Maul, let me know. What, no takers? I do have some awesome Dragon figures, though. Those kick ass for WWII soldier realism.

Okay back to the story...
My crazy cat was very involved in this browsing because I had to move the carts around to get into the drawers, which exposed floor space he'd never walked through (a very exciting event to a cat). So while I was digging through stacks of figures in various drawers, he was milling about in parts unkown. I finally yanked out some 3 3/4" Funschool Joes (semi-knock-offs made in India that I think I'd orignally bought for maybe a buck a piece). Perfect. Those could be buried in the sand for 1,000 years and they'd still only be worth about a buck a piece.

I closed up the drawers, pushed the carts back into place and headed upstairs. There was some discussion about packaging and we ate some dinner. A little while later I headed back down to the basement to grab another action figure when I heard the muffled but familiar high pitched girly meow of my cat (he's a male).

Meeeeeeeeeeow. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeow.

I go looked around and called his name.

Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeow.

I started moving storage carts around.

Meeeeeeeeeeow. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeow.

I finally found him INSIDE a drawer.

There's something you need to know about my cat - he's BIG. When I hold him, it kind of looks like this (okay maybe not quite that ridiculous, but it looks like he's been enlarged in PhotoShop). You'll just have to trust me when I say he could not have gone unnoticed if he'd been in a drawer when I closed it earlier. My best guess is he squeezed himself into the lower drawer from the back through a temporary opening created when I had a middle drawer open. It still would have been tricky. He was crammed so tightly in the drawer (with some action figures) that he couldn't move until I got the drawer fully open and actually extracted him.

He was most grateful. He'd did lots of purring and rubbing against me and he hasn't left my side since. Maybe he'll stop lunging at my calves when I walk by him now (that's his favorite activity).

You know there was a time where I actually sat down with checkbook and bank statement once a month to reconcile my measely checking account. If I was off by $1.23, I'd actually go back through, recalculate all my checks and deposits and withdrawals and figure out where I'd screwed up. I had an obsessive need to make sure the bottom line in my checkbook was accurate and also that I'd made the mistake and not the bank. Thank God those days are over.

I don't have to care about $1.23 anymore (can you even imagine?) and I haven't kept up a checkbook in years. There's just no need. All my finances are online through the bank. I very rarely even write checks (usually just when some neighborhood kid comes around selling fundraiser stuff). I don't get receipts at the bank machine. I never use a debit card (I stick everything on a credit card and pay it at the end of the month). I don't bother to track my money at all. When it's time to pay bills, I log in and see what I've got. And thanks to overdraft protection, I don't even have to forecast ahead to make sure there will be enough money in checking for when bills are scheduled to be paid. If there's not enough, the bank automatically transfers it over from savings. Simple.

Or maybe it's too simple. Maybe this is why I suck at math now.

Long hair + Short sleeves = Where the hell is that hair that's tickling the back of my arm?!

Hairs that detach from my head have a habit of dangling off my back in such a way that one end of them keeps tickling the back of my upper arm. And I can never see them, just feel them. Drives. Me. Nuts. I swear I spend half my short sleeves weather days grabbing blindly at my back trying to find these torturous hairs. Such a relief when I finally get one, though. Very satisfying.