Please be advised that I will not be around the blogosphere quite so much for the next two months. I should be able to update, but I fear my blog reading will suffer.

I have already unsubscribed to a lot of blogs. Not yours, of course, but I get all panicky when I see I have so many unread posts in my reader.

I’m packing today, and getting everything together for the psychic fair tour. I leave tomorrow. Skinny Bitch will have company for almost a week. That would be me. I hope I have more stories to tell from my stay there.

If you haven’t already done so, please subscribe to my feed. See the big pink shiny button on the far right sidebar? The irony of me unsubscribing to a number of blogs while asking you to subscribe to mine is not lost on me.

With any luck I will get to see my Grammie. She isn’t doing really well, and this may be the last time I get to see her. The twins got her hair, nails, and makeup done and took some glam shots of her.

It’s totally weird to see her with makeup. And I don’t think she ever wore nail polish in her life.

Wish me well in my travels!

People asked me what I did yesterday to celebrate my birthday. My older sister woke me up early to wish me Happy Birthday, and we discussed getting together later in the week for a celebratory lunch. Her birthday is a week after mine. Then I went back to sleep.

I woke up to the floors that Ass Burger Boy had mopped for me. Love that. And to the smell of fresh coffee he had made. Also an email from him announcing the money is in the bank. (from a paypal payment)

After trying most of the morning to upload a dubious picture of myself as a wanton wild child, I abandoned my post for a doctor’s appointment.

The doctor had called me in to discuss the status of my prescriptions. I had run out about two weeks before the three month duration had expired. We agreed that this doesn’t constitute drug abuse. As he was looking at my files, he said it must have been a psychic impulse that had him call me in because there had been no word from the surgeon, and he needed to find out why. He’s really a sweetie.

It seems the surgeon had put a low priority code on my file because it didn’t seem alarming to him. Okay, fine, but I won’t be available until after August 18th for appointments. I’m really not in a hurry to have a tube and a camera inserted into my backside.

So I bought myself a package of strawberry twizzlers and decided I wasn’t cooking supper unless I could persuade Ass Burger Boy to run to the store for a frozen pizza. (That’s not really cooking. And I could have filled up on twizzlers.)

We toyed with the idea of seeing a favourite jazz singer of mine perform, but I chose to shed the bra and get back into jammies.

Then the uploads worked, and I posted my post, only to find that Hotfessional had outed my birthday. There are a few anonymous bloggers who know each other’s real identities, and are Facebook friends. Facebook announces your birthday.

So for those who wanted to know about my day. Pretty boring. Store bought pizza, strawberry twizzlers, and red wine. Not like the days when I was the Queen.

And this morning, when I was waking up, I was dreaming about bingo. Maybe it’s a sign that I should go.

Some of you may have noticed that my blog blew up yesterday. I had been obsessively coding for a client the past two days, and didn’t have a braincell left to fix it.

My hero, Rob at ScorpWebSolutions, fixed it for me. I knew the database was intact, because I had checked it, but I didn’t know how to finish the update after a fatal error. He did it manually, after a long day at work. If you are thinking of going self-hosted, the service doesn’t get any better than ScorpWebSolutions. Thank you, Rob. I was totally freaked out.

My Grammie is doing better now. They have her in a ward where they are trying to ambulate her more, and she is not having to take such heavy painkillers. It was difficult to talk to her as she was all loopy from them. And? She didn’t come down with pneumonia, like I had feared.

I met with the new owners of the building and am thrilled to say I won’t have to move. I was dreading the prospect of another summer move, and now I can think about planting more flowers, and bulbs for the fall. All of the plants that I identified by their leaves earlier this spring have flowered, and they are exactly what I predicted they would be. Go me.

I also got my itinerary for the psychic fair tour. The tour will be my chance to get caught up on my pesky overdraft, and maybe even have enough left over for a nice camera. I need to have a reason to get out and away from the computer more.

And that’s about all of my news. I was preparing a post about The Big V and the amazing dollhouse she created, but that one can wait a bit.

I’m glad to be back! Thanks again, Rob!

After whining and being a general pain in the backside, I have received my itinerary for the summer.

And no, I won’t be travelling to the states, just regional venues.

The fun of this is I get to stay with two of my bitches, and there is another to do my bidding.

Of course there is Skinny Bitch. Can’t wait to see her!

I have a man-bitch in the same city where she lives. He drives me to see my Grammie, and usually takes me out to dinner while he’s at it. I’ll call him my Port City Bitch. He’s really awesome. He talks a mile a minute, and never fails to make me laugh. I think at first he made himself useful to me in order to get close to Skinny Bitch. (Every man is a sucker for SB.) But we’re pretty good friends now. I really enjoy my Port City Bitch.

My third bitch is another man-bitch. We’ve been BFF’s since high school. I’ll call him BFF bitch. He is bar none, the BEST!

His wife is a very smart woman, and conversationally engaging. We get along well, but I take umbrage that she abuses my bitch. When she said one time that she wished she had a bitch too, I reminded her that you have to praise your bitch, and never call him arsehole.

I do love all three of my bitches. Am I a lucky woman or what?

I’ve been frustrated lately about firming up my psychic fair tours for this summer. Usually I have my itinerary by March.

This year, there has been some tampering by outside agents. Somebody has been calling the venues, posing as the promoters, and cancelling. Also cancelling advertising and accommodations.

I find myself in the unenviable position of not having a schedule. I still don’t have my surgeon’s appointment, and I have a follow-up ultrasound to schedule amongst my travels.

The lovely flat I live in has been sold. We find out June 1 if we have to move. Indications are that we will. Probably in the heat of summer, while I am travelling. If there is a psychic fair tour this year.

I suppose I should consult my trusty oracle on these matters, but really, all I want to do is curl up on the couch with a nice bottle of Chilean red wine. If I weren’t overdrawn, I would so be there.

Those twins I Photoshopped tiaras onto? Apparently, they have peckers. I can make a hundred bang-on predictions, but get one a little off, and whoosh! There goes my confidence. And? I’ve been doing this stuff for 25 years.

Ass Burger Boy missed an important appointment this morning. His anxiety is painting the atmosphere here.

Mercury is retrograde now. I guess I can just kiss that lottery win goodbye. Which is unfortunate, because I would need it for that much-coveted bottle of wine.

And when I hit publish, my site broke. I have made no changes to my CSS. Craptastic. Help yourself to the cheese I am offering with my whine.