After I watched the episode twice (second time with subtitles), I subjected Amanda, a non-Whovian, to this brandy-induced summary of The Stolen Earth. Sobriety edits have been made*ahem*
DOCTOR WHO IS THE GREATEST SHOW EVER!!!!!!
They brought together the two spin-offs and the two previous companions and their families for this HUGE two-part season finale.
Twenty-seven planets are *whoosh* disappeared into a hidden pocket of space and time, cutoff from the doctor, so he takes donna to the Shadow Proclamation (space police), figures a bunch of stuff out in his usual way, all while the companions/torchwood are looking for him like crazy because the Daleks are attacking and the Valiant (floating cloud battleship) is down and the Earth has surrendered. Rose is back from a parallel universe but nobody knows it...*breath*
The doctor is stumped when the particle trail dries up (bee's are aliens, well, not all of them, don't be daft). The doctor giving up freaks the shit out of Donna...*breath*
(Amanda: Alcohol and SF can clearly have bad consequences)
Then everyone the doctor knows on Earth, including the former prime minister Harriet Jones (yes, we know who you are) get together and use all the cellphones in the world to transmit an amplified call into space, which the doctor picks up which launches the TARDIS into the time bubble in the Medusa Cascade.
The crazy Dalek Caan is babblingand tells us: "the threefold man is coming, the darkness is coming" and "the most faithful companion will die."
Then everyone converges on the TARDIS, The Doctor sees Rose *blub*, runs to her, and gets shot by a hidden Dalek. So he's dying and they take him to the ship, where he starts to regenerate, Sarah Jane is ambushed, and roll credits.
TO
BE
CONTINUED
And WTH? The Doctor is still David Tennant in the next week previews, even though we JUST saw him regenerating, which means a new actor should play him.
Ohmygawdilovethisshow!
Also, I know I can't turn John Barrowman straight, but I would love the chance to try...
Sunday, July 27, 2008
X-Files *spoilers*
Positive:
Mulder and Scully together without angst. Thank you.
Confusion:
Have they been living together for awhile, or just since she went out to find him? If the former, then why is she ribbing him for being so trusting and not noticing she's in the house, and only just now complaining about the scratchy beard? If it is the latter, then its awful odd how she's referring to them having a home together. Why do two people who love each other and sleep together still call each other by their last names when they no longer have a professional relationship? We are fans of X-Files, we would know who Dana and Fox are.
Interesting:
When Mulder is trying to make a call, we see a closeup of his screen as he selects Gillian. Accidental or intentional?
Negative:
Hey, remember that show, X-Files, where all that supernatural and extraterrestrial stuff is investigated? Well this isn't that. We get one guy who "has visions." We, the audience, don't get to peek into those visions, and they are completely unreliable and mostly useless. Instead, this is a movie about trying to touch on as many "current events" topics as possible: Stem cells, gay marriage, and pedophile priests.
But then they didn't really talk about any of the issues, except the safe one that few will disagree with: pedophile priests are evil nasty people. Then they go to the old standby "evil medical scientists with accents do horrible experiments." They even tried, I think, to imply "horrific" sex-change operations, since the gay-married head transplant guy was only being attached to women's bodies. Of course, that might be because movies don't get made about missing, abducted men, that would be dumb because those men would obviously be able to take care of themselves and get away, duh.
On top of all that, the movie was dull, slow, lacking energy. The same conversations were re-hashed at least three times per character...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... all of these plots would have been 10x better.
Mulder and Scully together without angst. Thank you.
Confusion:
Have they been living together for awhile, or just since she went out to find him? If the former, then why is she ribbing him for being so trusting and not noticing she's in the house, and only just now complaining about the scratchy beard? If it is the latter, then its awful odd how she's referring to them having a home together. Why do two people who love each other and sleep together still call each other by their last names when they no longer have a professional relationship? We are fans of X-Files, we would know who Dana and Fox are.
Interesting:
When Mulder is trying to make a call, we see a closeup of his screen as he selects Gillian. Accidental or intentional?
Negative:
Hey, remember that show, X-Files, where all that supernatural and extraterrestrial stuff is investigated? Well this isn't that. We get one guy who "has visions." We, the audience, don't get to peek into those visions, and they are completely unreliable and mostly useless. Instead, this is a movie about trying to touch on as many "current events" topics as possible: Stem cells, gay marriage, and pedophile priests.
But then they didn't really talk about any of the issues, except the safe one that few will disagree with: pedophile priests are evil nasty people. Then they go to the old standby "evil medical scientists with accents do horrible experiments." They even tried, I think, to imply "horrific" sex-change operations, since the gay-married head transplant guy was only being attached to women's bodies. Of course, that might be because movies don't get made about missing, abducted men, that would be dumb because those men would obviously be able to take care of themselves and get away, duh.
On top of all that, the movie was dull, slow, lacking energy. The same conversations were re-hashed at least three times per character...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... all of these plots would have been 10x better.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
On Fat
First, the video by Joy Nash
So this a picture of me, 5 years ago:
I know that at the moment this picture was taken, I felt like a cow. I look back now, and I see that, wow, I was kinda cute. But I still crop my lower body out of this picture, because I still look at it and feel as awkward as I did the moment it was taken. That is a shame, because the pond scenery is sooo beautiful. The bigger shame is that I had to feel so awkward in such a lovely photograph, just because my clothes didn't fit me right.
I. Looked. Great.
But I was so overjoyed at finally FINALLY being able to get into and zip up a size 10 pair of shorts, that I didn't realize that it didn't mean that those pants FIT ME. With the unfortunate shirt, I was stuck on the idea that I was a size Medium, forever an always, up top. I was so terrified, mortified, at ever even trying on a size Large *gasp, horror* that I actually put up with an entire wardrobe (term used loosely) of shirts that stretched tight over my round belly.
I was the most physically fit of my entire life. Back then I weighed 141 pounds, overweight by Air Force standards for my height. Lets keep in mind that at this point I had zero social life and spent 1-2 hours PER NIGHT at the gym, in addition to my unit's thrice-weekly mandatory mile run and calisthenics, and I ate a cobb salad for lunch and dinner every day. I could do 65 situps in 60 seconds, but I still had the round tummy, and I always will. FACT.
Here's me last month:
When I posted this picture to Facebook, I cropped it to not show my arms, and squeezed the image a little. Yup. I still can't stand the sight of myself in the camera's lens.
Now, I don't bother weighing myself anymore. I am done hating myself because of that number. Maybe it is around 165, I dunno. I wear a size 12/14 pant, and Large/XL shirts. I can't shop at most stores in the mall because they have shitty selection that high, and I get asked "why are you here, skinny?" at Lane Bryant.
I have biked 100 miles in about 5 total weeks. I do yoga or an abs workout 4 times a week. I have found healthy, simple foods that I enjoy, and I refuse to eat something "healthy" that I do not absolutely love.
Today I made pound cake, and I will delight in every brandy-infused bite for the next week.
So this a picture of me, 5 years ago:
I know that at the moment this picture was taken, I felt like a cow. I look back now, and I see that, wow, I was kinda cute. But I still crop my lower body out of this picture, because I still look at it and feel as awkward as I did the moment it was taken. That is a shame, because the pond scenery is sooo beautiful. The bigger shame is that I had to feel so awkward in such a lovely photograph, just because my clothes didn't fit me right.
I. Looked. Great.
But I was so overjoyed at finally FINALLY being able to get into and zip up a size 10 pair of shorts, that I didn't realize that it didn't mean that those pants FIT ME. With the unfortunate shirt, I was stuck on the idea that I was a size Medium, forever an always, up top. I was so terrified, mortified, at ever even trying on a size Large *gasp, horror* that I actually put up with an entire wardrobe (term used loosely) of shirts that stretched tight over my round belly.
I was the most physically fit of my entire life. Back then I weighed 141 pounds, overweight by Air Force standards for my height. Lets keep in mind that at this point I had zero social life and spent 1-2 hours PER NIGHT at the gym, in addition to my unit's thrice-weekly mandatory mile run and calisthenics, and I ate a cobb salad for lunch and dinner every day. I could do 65 situps in 60 seconds, but I still had the round tummy, and I always will. FACT.
Here's me last month:
When I posted this picture to Facebook, I cropped it to not show my arms, and squeezed the image a little. Yup. I still can't stand the sight of myself in the camera's lens.
Now, I don't bother weighing myself anymore. I am done hating myself because of that number. Maybe it is around 165, I dunno. I wear a size 12/14 pant, and Large/XL shirts. I can't shop at most stores in the mall because they have shitty selection that high, and I get asked "why are you here, skinny?" at Lane Bryant.
I have biked 100 miles in about 5 total weeks. I do yoga or an abs workout 4 times a week. I have found healthy, simple foods that I enjoy, and I refuse to eat something "healthy" that I do not absolutely love.
Today I made pound cake, and I will delight in every brandy-infused bite for the next week.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Uninspired Tidbits
I think it is time to start learning what kind of music I like. I think I'll put some effort into that. We'll see.
I finally got ahold of the people holding my bird's new stuff hostage. There was a(nother) huge mixup in the shipment. They are sending a 110% refund. I now have to find someone else who sells Clicker training stuff. Frustrating.
I think Rigel understands "stay." It totally worked today, I could tell he really wanted to fly to me while I was in the kitchen, but didn't. Such a good boy. He deserves new toys so much.
There's plenty of food, but nothing to eat. I must plan actual meals before shopping. Must. As much as I like what I eat, the same thing is getting kind of old.
I made granola the other day. I was surprised by how simple it is, nothing special at all. Definitely not worth the arm, two legs, and my ex-husband's left testicle that it costs at the grocery store. Next stop, home-made granola bars.
It has been suggested that I change my last name to Dax, instead of going back to my original. *ponders*
In the last two weeks, I have biked 54.10 miles. I have gone grocery shopping twice. The first time was for the barbecue, and I hauled a bag of charcoal in my left pannier, groceries in the right, and an extra bag on my right arm. Stopping was educational.
The summer class is going well, minus some annoying group project stuff I will never do again. I think I'm pretty good at this technical writing thing.
Sonic's chicken strips aren't that good, definitely not worth over a dollar per strip.
I shouldn't drink cherry limeade before bed. I am tired, but wide awake.
Eh. That is all.
I finally got ahold of the people holding my bird's new stuff hostage. There was a(nother) huge mixup in the shipment. They are sending a 110% refund. I now have to find someone else who sells Clicker training stuff. Frustrating.
I think Rigel understands "stay." It totally worked today, I could tell he really wanted to fly to me while I was in the kitchen, but didn't. Such a good boy. He deserves new toys so much.
There's plenty of food, but nothing to eat. I must plan actual meals before shopping. Must. As much as I like what I eat, the same thing is getting kind of old.
I made granola the other day. I was surprised by how simple it is, nothing special at all. Definitely not worth the arm, two legs, and my ex-husband's left testicle that it costs at the grocery store. Next stop, home-made granola bars.
It has been suggested that I change my last name to Dax, instead of going back to my original. *ponders*
In the last two weeks, I have biked 54.10 miles. I have gone grocery shopping twice. The first time was for the barbecue, and I hauled a bag of charcoal in my left pannier, groceries in the right, and an extra bag on my right arm. Stopping was educational.
The summer class is going well, minus some annoying group project stuff I will never do again. I think I'm pretty good at this technical writing thing.
Sonic's chicken strips aren't that good, definitely not worth over a dollar per strip.
I shouldn't drink cherry limeade before bed. I am tired, but wide awake.
Eh. That is all.
Sad
So, the last couple of days have been dramatically bad in my family.
Some argument between Mom and Aunt Kay over some other thing spilled over into an arguing over the car I was trying to sell to one of them. I'm getting drunken calls in the middle of the night, and I'm trying to mediate the argument and make sure that my interests (getting the car out of my name) are covered. I thought it was more of the same when I got a call from Mom last night. Not even close.
The call I got from my Mom is that Aunt Kay called her, told her my cousin's boyfriend died, and hung up. Mom called my brother, no answer. Mom called my other cousin, got an angry response and hung up on. I have no idea what that is about, but then she called me and asked me to find out what was going on. She was worried that my brother might not be okay. She is like me (or I am like her, whatever) in that a tiny bit of bad information rolls around in my brain and snowballs until I panic over all the possibilities. This put me in the position of calling my aunt, who was in the middle of a tragedy, in the middle of trying to calm my distraught cousin, and try to get information. I felt like a piece of shit.
My cousin, her boyfriend, and my baby brother are all about 17/18 and good friends. I am assuming the three of them were together last night when the boyfriend drowned in the river. Apparently, the thing to do is wade out to the sandbars and hang out. He stepped into a hole, I guess on the way out.
It could have been any of them, it could have been all of them...
I keep picturing the two kids, napping together on the couch while I was visiting. I have never seen two people so in love, so comfortable with one another.
Mom asked me if they had found him yet. I stammered, I choked. There was no way I could have asked that question, even if I had thought about the possibility. No way on Earth I would have found the words.
Video from KQ2 News
From StJoesNews.net
Some argument between Mom and Aunt Kay over some other thing spilled over into an arguing over the car I was trying to sell to one of them. I'm getting drunken calls in the middle of the night, and I'm trying to mediate the argument and make sure that my interests (getting the car out of my name) are covered. I thought it was more of the same when I got a call from Mom last night. Not even close.
The call I got from my Mom is that Aunt Kay called her, told her my cousin's boyfriend died, and hung up. Mom called my brother, no answer. Mom called my other cousin, got an angry response and hung up on. I have no idea what that is about, but then she called me and asked me to find out what was going on. She was worried that my brother might not be okay. She is like me (or I am like her, whatever) in that a tiny bit of bad information rolls around in my brain and snowballs until I panic over all the possibilities. This put me in the position of calling my aunt, who was in the middle of a tragedy, in the middle of trying to calm my distraught cousin, and try to get information. I felt like a piece of shit.
My cousin, her boyfriend, and my baby brother are all about 17/18 and good friends. I am assuming the three of them were together last night when the boyfriend drowned in the river. Apparently, the thing to do is wade out to the sandbars and hang out. He stepped into a hole, I guess on the way out.
It could have been any of them, it could have been all of them...
I keep picturing the two kids, napping together on the couch while I was visiting. I have never seen two people so in love, so comfortable with one another.
Mom asked me if they had found him yet. I stammered, I choked. There was no way I could have asked that question, even if I had thought about the possibility. No way on Earth I would have found the words.
Video from KQ2 News
From StJoesNews.net
River conditions blamed in drowning
NODAWAY, Mo. — Authorities believe swift river currents contributed to the drowning of a Skidmore teen Monday in the Nodaway River.
The drowning occurred near the intersection of Andrew County roads 400 and 459 just west Nodaway, Mo.
Savannah Volunteer Fire Department personnel recovered the body of Eli Stiens, 19, at 7:19 p.m. Monday, said Bryan Atkins, the chief deputy for the Andrew County Sheriff’s Department.
According to a Missouri State Water Patrol report, the victim went camping with friends on a sandbar. He went swimming in the river, which had a depth of about 7 feet to 10 feet. The report stated that friends said he was approximately 25 feet from the sandbar when he began having problems. His friends attempted a rescue but had to let him go because he was pulling them under at about 4:30 p.m. Monday. Mr. Stiens went under and didn’t resurface.
The fire department launched two boats shortly after 5 p.m. Monday to drag the river, Mr. Atkins said. It was too late for a rescue, he said.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Briefly
If you love Torchwood, and have any knowledge of LOLCats, you must read this now: Trying to Communicate.
That is all.
That is all.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Technical Communication
We watched this today. The assignment was to write a memo about whether or not this is a "technical communication." I think I'm going to like this class.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
This is the Title field...
Fun was had. Not wild party fun, but spending time with my friends and family, doing generally unboring stuff.
Things were photographed. Lots. Maybe I'll upload them later.
Money was spendeded. Way way more than I intended. See, it all started with a sqeaky belt...
Driving was droved. And then more. And then not, until the car was fixed. And then some more driving. And I will never drive again, I hate cars so much. Mom and I got to San Angelo at about 10pm, but loading the birdie and then unloading him and all the accumulated junk from the car took us until 11. I never knew selling the car would be so damn complicated, stupid Texass rules or someshit. I'll just be glad to be rid of it. I'll worry about it later. Actually, I'm worrying about it now, but will deal with it when I'm more awake. Mom has to go back early tomorrow morning, unfortunately, so no fun hanging out. I have a busy day of banking and cleaning and paying tuition ahead of me as well.
Class starts Tuesday...
Things were photographed. Lots. Maybe I'll upload them later.
Money was spendeded. Way way more than I intended. See, it all started with a sqeaky belt...
Driving was droved. And then more. And then not, until the car was fixed. And then some more driving. And I will never drive again, I hate cars so much. Mom and I got to San Angelo at about 10pm, but loading the birdie and then unloading him and all the accumulated junk from the car took us until 11. I never knew selling the car would be so damn complicated, stupid Texass rules or someshit. I'll just be glad to be rid of it. I'll worry about it later. Actually, I'm worrying about it now, but will deal with it when I'm more awake. Mom has to go back early tomorrow morning, unfortunately, so no fun hanging out. I have a busy day of banking and cleaning and paying tuition ahead of me as well.
Class starts Tuesday...
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Totally Pornographic
I can post to my blog, but not read it. The library filer says "Text of web page appears to be pornographic."
They have no idea ;)
They have no idea ;)
Movie Reviews
We saw The Happening last week. It was enjoyable, with appropriate amounts of gore and "holy shit no way!" moments. It was bad, but that's because I think it was supposed to be corny bad. The male lead acted, or not, I'm not sure. It would have been scarier without the "suspense music," although Amanda still jumped. Hehehehe. The premise was intriguing, but towards the end I was trying not to yell at the screen, because it was absurd.
I shall summarize Wanted, with spoilers:
Wes has boring cubicle life, unaware that he is meant for greater things (sound familiar?).
"Saved" and recruited into secret society by beautiful woman.
Wes becomes sexy killing machine after being beat the shit out of in creative ways.
Predictable spoiler ---->>>"LukeWesley, I am your father."
Wes destroys corrupt organization.
Amanda didn't like the part with the rats, I may be partially responsible for that.
I'm going with Mom to see Horton Hears a Who at the $2 theater today.
I shall summarize Wanted, with spoilers:
Wes has boring cubicle life, unaware that he is meant for greater things (sound familiar?).
"Saved" and recruited into secret society by beautiful woman.
Wes becomes sexy killing machine after being beat the shit out of in creative ways.
Predictable spoiler ---->>>"
Wes destroys corrupt organization.
Amanda didn't like the part with the rats, I may be partially responsible for that.
I'm going with Mom to see Horton Hears a Who at the $2 theater today.
Don't mind the twitching...
I'm still here, just hanging out. Mostly, there's been much eating, and much chatting with family. The stories usually begin with: "Man, this one time, and I was fucked up, we...."
I had fun baking cakes with Becky's mom for her birthday.
I watched an old downtown St. Joe building blaze, and a train carrying radioactive material derailed a few blocks from Becky's house in Atchison.
Mom had an absolute blast at the Fire Museum the other day. We just happened to show up at the end of a retirement party for the Fire Chief, so we got to meet a couple old guys who worked with her stepdad way back when he worked with the Snorkel.
I've spent alot of time at the park while everyone I know is at work (losers). Yesterday at sunset, I was taking pictures of trees (who's the loser now?), when I noticed a branch full of berries that looked very familiar. We had a mulberry tree at the end of our driveway when we lived in Troy, and I loved staining my fingers with sweet ripe berries. I ate a handful off the tree at the park, and they were perfect. Of course, you never know what pesticides they used, so don't mind me if I start twitching or something...It was totally worth it.
I had fun baking cakes with Becky's mom for her birthday.
I watched an old downtown St. Joe building blaze, and a train carrying radioactive material derailed a few blocks from Becky's house in Atchison.
Mom had an absolute blast at the Fire Museum the other day. We just happened to show up at the end of a retirement party for the Fire Chief, so we got to meet a couple old guys who worked with her stepdad way back when he worked with the Snorkel.
I've spent alot of time at the park while everyone I know is at work (losers). Yesterday at sunset, I was taking pictures of trees (who's the loser now?), when I noticed a branch full of berries that looked very familiar. We had a mulberry tree at the end of our driveway when we lived in Troy, and I loved staining my fingers with sweet ripe berries. I ate a handful off the tree at the park, and they were perfect. Of course, you never know what pesticides they used, so don't mind me if I start twitching or something...It was totally worth it.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Story So Far....
One more time.
I just wrote one long, drawn out post about my breakdown on the Kansas Turnpike. And then had to write it again, shorter, and now again, because I am a computer genius.
Summary:
*POP* battery light dammit! SMELL oh shit! SMOKE no fucking way!!!!!!!
Minor Freakout, costly repair. There goes my drinkin' money.
Traci's husband, Kevin picked my up from the mechanic. We arrived at Ft. Rielly after midnight, and the gate guard gave us an odd look. Kevin did not understand. Yeah, a soldier coming in, late at night with someone else's dependant spouse, that doesn't raise any eyebrows.
I stayed there, as planned anyway, until my car was ready, and then continued on to Becky's.
There was pizza and beer and electronic Life. We biked down to the water park yesterday. Alan tried tokill me challange me, by taking us up the steepest possible hill on the way back.
I'm hanging out in St. Joe today, while they are at work.
I'm bored.
Call Me!
I just wrote one long, drawn out post about my breakdown on the Kansas Turnpike. And then had to write it again, shorter, and now again, because I am a computer genius.
Summary:
*POP* battery light dammit! SMELL oh shit! SMOKE no fucking way!!!!!!!
Minor Freakout, costly repair. There goes my drinkin' money.
Traci's husband, Kevin picked my up from the mechanic. We arrived at Ft. Rielly after midnight, and the gate guard gave us an odd look. Kevin did not understand. Yeah, a soldier coming in, late at night with someone else's dependant spouse, that doesn't raise any eyebrows.
I stayed there, as planned anyway, until my car was ready, and then continued on to Becky's.
There was pizza and beer and electronic Life. We biked down to the water park yesterday. Alan tried to
I'm hanging out in St. Joe today, while they are at work.
I'm bored.
Call Me!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Summertime Bath
We went to the park today, while the apartment aired out. I took him in the big cage, and put a water dish in the bottom. If I had known he would try to bathe in it, I would have taken the big blue plate.
My voice makes me cringe. Yes, I do talk to him all the time, just like that. I tried to edit out as much as possible, but it is sooo hard to not tell him how cute he is. I mean really.
My voice makes me cringe. Yes, I do talk to him all the time, just like that. I tried to edit out as much as possible, but it is sooo hard to not tell him how cute he is. I mean really.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Plans
Tonight:
Spend another hour cuddling with my feathered monster.
Spend a few hours de-cluttering and extra-cleaning my apartment, because they are sending the exterminators TOMORROW. I'm so frackin' powerful.
Tomorrow: Go around, with Rigel in his carrier, taking pictures of the complex to show off to my family and friends. This place rocks.
Thursday: Drop Rigel at the old apartment and start out on my 12 hour drive to Atchison to visit with Becky and Co.
I'll stay there until next Thursday or so, with a little jaunt over to Fort Riley to visit the Johnson's, then over to MO to stay at Amanda's and visit with all the rest of my friends and family. The ones I like, anyways. Atsome most points, there will be alcohol, games, photographs and explosions. Just like old times.
Then Mom and I will drive back to Texass, and she will drive back with the car, and I will pedal my way to and from school.
Spend another hour cuddling with my feathered monster.
Spend a few hours de-cluttering and extra-cleaning my apartment, because they are sending the exterminators TOMORROW. I'm so frackin' powerful.
Tomorrow: Go around, with Rigel in his carrier, taking pictures of the complex to show off to my family and friends. This place rocks.
Thursday: Drop Rigel at the old apartment and start out on my 12 hour drive to Atchison to visit with Becky and Co.
I'll stay there until next Thursday or so, with a little jaunt over to Fort Riley to visit the Johnson's, then over to MO to stay at Amanda's and visit with all the rest of my friends and family. The ones I like, anyways. At
Then Mom and I will drive back to Texass, and she will drive back with the car, and I will pedal my way to and from school.
Everything's Bigger in Texass
(they say that like its a good thing)
Oh my goodness! Oh no frickin way! Ew Ew Ew!!!
Yeah, a big one, in my bathroom, in the middle of the night. Hideously big and healthy (if you can call a giant roach* healthy), stalking me from the bathroom light switch. If I had not just peed... After several minutes of whimpering, I steeled my courage and rushed past it, out the bathroom door to retrieve whatever weapons of cockroach doom I could find. This ended up being a large wad of paper towels and a can of compressed air. I blew it off the wall, cornered it, and then held the air upside down and emptied half the can on the little....*insert string of profanities unsuitable for birdboard* until it was frozen or gassed, whichever killed it first. Yes, I could have stomped it with a shoe, but the only thing worse than a live roach is a squished dead one, guts everywhere, no thank you!
There's a question or three here, of course.
Besides the quarterly pest treatments, taking out the trash nightly, plugging the drains, and keeping all food in sealed containers, what else can I do to prevent these nasties? I lived at the old place for 1 1/2 years without a single one!!!
Can these things harm Rigel?
Do food and water containers exist that are less likely to draw the attention of a hungry, nasty critter to my bird's cage?
I will NOT consent to calling it a harmless "water bug." Nuh-uh! Nas-tay!
Oh my goodness! Oh no frickin way! Ew Ew Ew!!!
Yeah, a big one, in my bathroom, in the middle of the night. Hideously big and healthy (if you can call a giant roach* healthy), stalking me from the bathroom light switch. If I had not just peed... After several minutes of whimpering, I steeled my courage and rushed past it, out the bathroom door to retrieve whatever weapons of cockroach doom I could find. This ended up being a large wad of paper towels and a can of compressed air. I blew it off the wall, cornered it, and then held the air upside down and emptied half the can on the little....*insert string of profanities unsuitable for birdboard* until it was frozen or gassed, whichever killed it first. Yes, I could have stomped it with a shoe, but the only thing worse than a live roach is a squished dead one, guts everywhere, no thank you!
There's a question or three here, of course.
Besides the quarterly pest treatments, taking out the trash nightly, plugging the drains, and keeping all food in sealed containers, what else can I do to prevent these nasties? I lived at the old place for 1 1/2 years without a single one!!!
Can these things harm Rigel?
Do food and water containers exist that are less likely to draw the attention of a hungry, nasty critter to my bird's cage?
I will NOT consent to calling it a harmless "water bug." Nuh-uh! Nas-tay!
Monday, June 16, 2008
Ow! *pouts*
Let's ignore any mention of my* marriage or divorce, for now, okay?
Moving on.
I left Rigel at the old apartment while I was moving. It was important to me that he arrive at the new place when it was uncluttered, and full of furniture and such that he was familiar with. I also wanted to do some heavy cleaning, and get a feel for the noises of the place.
Turns out, the walls are thinner, the neighbors a bit noisier, but the grounds maintenance isn't all *BANG BANG HAMMER SAW MOWER STEAM CLEANER LEAF BLOWER* all the time, and the TV isn't on as much or as loudly. So, on balance, this place is a bit quieter, but not eerily so. Except the air conditioner, which clearly works, and could double as an airplane engine, I'm sure.
The first night and the entire next day he was sweet as sugar, honey, and caramel put together. He spent most of the time snuggled in my shirt. Adorable x1000. I'm sure he was looking for something familiar and secure, my widdle lovie dovie birdie. He munched happily on bell pepper and cherry, after an incident with an entire newly-opened bag of pellets infested with some tiny critters.
Today, not so much. I've been bitten at least a dozen times. I've bled, uh, something like 4 times. I've lost count. Looking for security is over, and he blames me for this unacceptable amount of change (it's been a day for that). He's flown at me in a rage, squawking and attempting to bite my neck. I've taken to picking him up with a tea towel or a few paper towels. He lunges at every opportunity, only tolerating petting on his forehead, and only if he is wrapped in a towel, powerless to object.
He is not a happy burrito.
I finally escaped at 5-ish to the laundry room, racked with guilt at leaving him alone, hoping to find a solution online. I failed at the free wireless that was supposedly accessible from the laundry room, but returned with clean clothes a few minutes before birdie bedtime. I spotted a black winter glove...and had a thought. Surely, it would scare him? Surely, he would attack it?
Friends, he loves that glove more than he loves me. (seems to be a pattern this week) It is a comfier perch than a bare hand, and it doesn't object to being bitten, even gnawed. (again, a pattern....hmmmm). Right now, the plan is to handle him with the glove, for both our safety (its hard to control your reaction to bites. I try, I promise, but I am far less than perfect. As you may have heard...). Later, whenever the MONTH LATE PACKAGE FROM BIRDBOARDSHOP.COM** ever arrives, I will begin clicker training. He needs entertainment and enrichment, I know that is the problem. Then I will train him to not bite the glove, as if it is my hand, and then train him off the glove.
Yeah, that's the plan.
*Mine and mine alone, really, because I paid for not only the wedding rings whatever-number-of-years-ago, but also the $230 filing fee for the divorce today. M'kay. I resist the urge to rant on...
**Yes, dear internet commerce folks, it has STILL not arrived. I SORT OF understand that the order got lost behind a desk, and you're just starting up, and these things happen. But it has now been over a week since you said it would arrive, and I deserve something more than a $10 or 10% coupon, or whatever.
Moving on.
I left Rigel at the old apartment while I was moving. It was important to me that he arrive at the new place when it was uncluttered, and full of furniture and such that he was familiar with. I also wanted to do some heavy cleaning, and get a feel for the noises of the place.
Turns out, the walls are thinner, the neighbors a bit noisier, but the grounds maintenance isn't all *BANG BANG HAMMER SAW MOWER STEAM CLEANER LEAF BLOWER* all the time, and the TV isn't on as much or as loudly. So, on balance, this place is a bit quieter, but not eerily so. Except the air conditioner, which clearly works, and could double as an airplane engine, I'm sure.
The first night and the entire next day he was sweet as sugar, honey, and caramel put together. He spent most of the time snuggled in my shirt. Adorable x1000. I'm sure he was looking for something familiar and secure, my widdle lovie dovie birdie. He munched happily on bell pepper and cherry, after an incident with an entire newly-opened bag of pellets infested with some tiny critters.
Today, not so much. I've been bitten at least a dozen times. I've bled, uh, something like 4 times. I've lost count. Looking for security is over, and he blames me for this unacceptable amount of change (it's been a day for that). He's flown at me in a rage, squawking and attempting to bite my neck. I've taken to picking him up with a tea towel or a few paper towels. He lunges at every opportunity, only tolerating petting on his forehead, and only if he is wrapped in a towel, powerless to object.
He is not a happy burrito.
I finally escaped at 5-ish to the laundry room, racked with guilt at leaving him alone, hoping to find a solution online. I failed at the free wireless that was supposedly accessible from the laundry room, but returned with clean clothes a few minutes before birdie bedtime. I spotted a black winter glove...and had a thought. Surely, it would scare him? Surely, he would attack it?
Friends, he loves that glove more than he loves me. (seems to be a pattern this week) It is a comfier perch than a bare hand, and it doesn't object to being bitten, even gnawed. (again, a pattern....hmmmm). Right now, the plan is to handle him with the glove, for both our safety (its hard to control your reaction to bites. I try, I promise, but I am far less than perfect. As you may have heard...). Later, whenever the MONTH LATE PACKAGE FROM BIRDBOARDSHOP.COM** ever arrives, I will begin clicker training. He needs entertainment and enrichment, I know that is the problem. Then I will train him to not bite the glove, as if it is my hand, and then train him off the glove.
Yeah, that's the plan.
*Mine and mine alone, really, because I paid for not only the wedding rings whatever-number-of-years-ago, but also the $230 filing fee for the divorce today. M'kay. I resist the urge to rant on...
**Yes, dear internet commerce folks, it has STILL not arrived. I SORT OF understand that the order got lost behind a desk, and you're just starting up, and these things happen. But it has now been over a week since you said it would arrive, and I deserve something more than a $10 or 10% coupon, or whatever.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Parrots aren't "Pets" and Shit
The only animals that are "pets" are dogs and cats. Period. So says the lease agreements for every "pet-friendly" apartment I talked to yesterday. Now I understand that many birds can be loud shriekers, but dismissing all birds out of hand is narrow-minded, considering that many dogs can be loud barkers. They would deal with loud dogs by kicking the offending owner out, or whatever, and I don't see how birds can't be evaluated on the same case-by-case basis. I can't see how it could be a cleanliness or odor issue, because I guarantee that a day's worth of unattended bird shit smells way way less than a day's worth of dog or cat shit left in an apartment. I know for sure that if you got even a little dog shit on your clothes, People. Would. Know. Rigel occasionally targets my clothes, and I take a damp paper towel to it and presto! no smell or stains.
Bonus, people outside the property won't step in a pile of (pet) bird shit while walking around. Asshole dog owners!
Further, dogs shed nasty mangy fur, which also stinks stinks stinks. My parrot sheds pretty, lovely feathers, suitable for crafting. Birds possibly chew on mini blinds? So? We had a dog once who CHEWED A HOLE IN OUR WALLS!
There is a silver lining, though. The apartment I really really wanted has a sign at the front desk: "We are a pet free community."
I was highly disappointed, and I pouted: "but he's just a little bird..."
Well, then that's another thing, birds and fish are FINE! They aren't considered pets, after all.
I move in tomorrow, no pet deposit!
-
Bonus, people outside the property won't step in a pile of (pet) bird shit while walking around. Asshole dog owners!
Further, dogs shed nasty mangy fur, which also stinks stinks stinks. My parrot sheds pretty, lovely feathers, suitable for crafting. Birds possibly chew on mini blinds? So? We had a dog once who CHEWED A HOLE IN OUR WALLS!
There is a silver lining, though. The apartment I really really wanted has a sign at the front desk: "We are a pet free community."
I was highly disappointed, and I pouted: "but he's just a little bird..."
Well, then that's another thing, birds and fish are FINE! They aren't considered pets, after all.
I move in tomorrow, no pet deposit!
-
Monday, June 9, 2008
Our Sergeant Major
I just found out about the death of one of my high school mentors. From the online guest book entries, I see he went with the same humor and dignity in which he lived.
Sgt. Maj. Richard A. Paquette
Sgt. Maj. Richard A. Paquette
Thursday, June 5, 2008
How Existential!
| What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03) | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You scored as a Existentialism | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Your life is guided by the concept of Existentialism: You choose the meaning and purpose of your life. “Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.” “It is up to you to give [life] a meaning.” --Jean-Paul Sartre “It is man's natural sickness to believe that he possesses the Truth.” --Blaise Pascal More info at Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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