Even though I’m a self-proclaimed dog-lover, I recently (and by “recently,” I mean last night when I couldn’t sleep) figured out that I’m an Awesarific Cat Woman–like in the Batman films, not like in those weird stories you read about in the newspaper involving an old woman’s dead body, 103 cats, Animal Control Officers, and neighbors who knew something must be wrong.

No, no, no, no, no! And the Crazy Cat Lady’s body is somewhere under there. It’s kind of like a “Where’s Waldo?” crime scene…

Yes, yes, yes! That’s more like it.

If you’re like most people, I’m going to have to convince you that I’m telling you the truth as I see it, because you won’t just accept my me-wow for it (that means “word” in Awesalicious Cat Woman parlance)  since you’re probably not like Awesomesaurus Cat Woman Me and can’t sense that I’m purrfectly right.  I feel for you.  I really do.

Evidence that I’m Awesome Cat Woman:

  1. Michelle Pfeiffer and I could be twins, except she would need to do something to enhance her bosom area.

    Okay, so I don’t usually wear red lipstick, but otherwise, put the two of us in the same room with the same costume and the only way you could tell us apart is that my costume would have more going on in the upper frontal region…and I don’t mean the forehead.

  2. I like tall, dark, enigmatic men who appreciate leather women’s garments, have more than social justice on the brain, and live in caves.  (Don’t get me wrong.  I’m a Cat Women’s Liber–a Felinist, if you will.  I just like my men virile and my domicile dark.)

    Shizzle! I thought the forecast was for clouds all day. Why isn’t it raining? I can’t take all this bright-and sunny-crap!

  3. I have escaped death more than nine times…so far.  They say a cat has nine lives.  They are rarely wrong.  I must be one super special Awesome-Squared Cat Woman.  I must also be very careful from now on.  I’m already living on borrowed time.


I’m sure you’re wondering about my many tangos with the Grim Reaper.  I was flabbergastedhorndoggledastounded…a bit shaken when I started counting up all the times that I could have easily had my physical assets liquidated permanently.  But I must have some phenomenizzle super powers to evade the grip of death not once or twice, but so many freaking times.

I don’t have any tricks up my sleeves. But I can’t promise you there isn’t a surprise  or two behind this apron…

I got to thinking about these near misses with death when Alex, my 26-year-old son, came for a short visit.  We began reminiscing about “the old days” and he brought up a few of these almost-for-me-disasters.  Good times.

I bet you want to know all about my near-death experiences.  Do I know you people, or what?  I’ve already told you about a few of them.

Lorna’s Impressive List of Near-Death Experiences, Part 1

Circa Young, Chubby, and Stupid: I hung upside-down from monkey bars that were planted in cement.  Being physically and common sense challenged, I hung there long enough to let sweat pool behind my knees, which were the things keeping my head from the cement 6-7′ below.  I fell, knocking the wind out of me because I landed on my fleshy back, not my noggin.  But I could have landed on my head, knocking the brains out of me, or at least snapping my neck, which would have been, at the very least, inconvenient.  I wrote a whole series on this episode called Monkey Business.

Yes. I agree. Chubby girls who lack common sense shouldn’t be playing on equipment designed for people like, say, me–your average pollster. I’m really supposed to be asking you who you’re likely to vote for in the upcoming Presidential election, the elephants or the donkeys. I know. It’s the only way I can tell them apart, too.

Circa Early Fifties, Slender, and Wiser but not Wise Enough: I was walking my dog Scrappy when a fast-moving and violent thunder-storm came upon us.  Before I could take cover, a tree about 20′ away from me was directly hit by lightning.  Because the rain was coming down so hard, the electric current traveled into the rain-soaked air and, thus, into me.  The technical term for the kind of lightning that hit me is “side splash” lightning.”  I wrote about this event in a series entitled, I’m Really One in a Million.

Two other member of LSSA (Lightning Strike Survivors Abysmal), a support group for women who need help managing their stress, hair, and, apparently, make-up after they get zapped. Health and beauty professionals are woefully unprepared for us and our kind of problems, which may have started before we were hit by lightning.


That’s two.  Sorry, but you’ll have to wait to hear about the rest of my near death experiences until my next post.

Teaser Alert: Be prepared for more surprises from nature, motor vehicle miracles, beasts, and men with guns.

Near death experiences?  I feel like I’m having one now.  Put on another pot of coffee, Jane.  It’s going to be a long night.