Friday
I consider it a draw.
Yesterday, my niece asked me: "So, um, do you like ... Twilight, and stuff?"
My reaction in full:
[I read the newspaper.]
[I look up from the newspaper.]
[beat]
"No."
[I read the newspaper.]
She does, she says. And on the inside I wept and rent my garments. But on the plus side, she doesn't actually seem to know that much about it. She's Team Jacob, she tells me, and seems mostly interested in Taylor Lautner's bazillion abdominal muscles. Also, she heard Edward dies or something. Oh honey. If only.
So today my sister is taking her to see New Moon. "I can't help it. I love this Twilight shit," she told me a few weeks ago. (We were in a supermarket, and she expressed concern at a tabloid headline suggesting the terrible breakup of KStew and RPattz. "Oh that's sad! They were dating?" "[beat.] No." The level of knowledge I have about these thing is truly unGodly and is impairing my social functioning.) I was not surprised because, frankly, I expect this sort of poor judgment from her. Whenever there's a desperately painful-looking comedy out on the market (like, say, that new one with Robin Williams and John Travolta), she deems that it "looks pretty funny!" I don't ... please. Anyway.
On another hand, my mother was the one to tell me about this outing. She said they were going to see "that 'Dark Moon' or whatever the hell it is." My mom =/= a Twimom. <3<3<3<3<3<3
My reaction in full:
[I read the newspaper.]
[I look up from the newspaper.]
[beat]
"No."
[I read the newspaper.]
She does, she says. And on the inside I wept and rent my garments. But on the plus side, she doesn't actually seem to know that much about it. She's Team Jacob, she tells me, and seems mostly interested in Taylor Lautner's bazillion abdominal muscles. Also, she heard Edward dies or something. Oh honey. If only.
So today my sister is taking her to see New Moon. "I can't help it. I love this Twilight shit," she told me a few weeks ago. (We were in a supermarket, and she expressed concern at a tabloid headline suggesting the terrible breakup of KStew and RPattz. "Oh that's sad! They were dating?" "[beat.] No." The level of knowledge I have about these thing is truly unGodly and is impairing my social functioning.) I was not surprised because, frankly, I expect this sort of poor judgment from her. Whenever there's a desperately painful-looking comedy out on the market (like, say, that new one with Robin Williams and John Travolta), she deems that it "looks pretty funny!" I don't ... please. Anyway.
On another hand, my mother was the one to tell me about this outing. She said they were going to see "that 'Dark Moon' or whatever the hell it is." My mom =/= a Twimom. <3<3<3<3<3<3
Thursday
In a related story: Goddamnit, Michael Sheen.
Michael Sheen, what were you thinking? You are an excellent actor. You were going to be set playing any and every English person of note that you even vaguely look like. You were even in all three Underworld movies and still managed to hang on to your good will.
But frankly, sir, your career deserves what it gets.
And I see you in the back, there, Grindelwald. You're young, and you're pretty, but don't think you have an excuse.
PS ... lol.
But frankly, sir, your career deserves what it gets.
And I see you in the back, there, Grindelwald. You're young, and you're pretty, but don't think you have an excuse.
PS ... lol.
Tuesday
Friday
Nostalgia is stupid.
So, yesterday I discovered that Rainbow Brite is getting a makeover. Today I saw the story picked up by a couple other places.
Oh, God, I didn't even know about the Care Bears. No one give me details.
Of course my primary reaction is "kill it with fire," but I keep being distracted by what I'm seeing in the comments. No, I don't know why I'm reading the comments. They must contain tar and nicotine. To wit: "What's next, Jem??" and "They better leave Jem alone!!!"
Really, internet? Really? A few things.
1. You meant: They better leave Pizzazz alone. I've always been a Misfits girl. (Don't pretend to be surprised.)
2. Where was your rage over that singer chick from five years ago? I was alone then.
and
3. Jem is already trampy. That's, like, the point of Jem. Whose virtue will you protect next, She-Ra? Who fights the Horde in a lamé bathing suit?
Oh, God, I didn't even know about the Care Bears. No one give me details.
Of course my primary reaction is "kill it with fire," but I keep being distracted by what I'm seeing in the comments. No, I don't know why I'm reading the comments. They must contain tar and nicotine. To wit: "What's next, Jem??" and "They better leave Jem alone!!!"
Really, internet? Really? A few things.
1. You meant: They better leave Pizzazz alone. I've always been a Misfits girl. (Don't pretend to be surprised.)
2. Where was your rage over that singer chick from five years ago? I was alone then.
and
3. Jem is already trampy. That's, like, the point of Jem. Whose virtue will you protect next, She-Ra? Who fights the Horde in a lamé bathing suit?
Saturday
I am not touched by your effusive sympathy!!!!
Guys, you know what's little and has fangs? ... Besides tiny vampires?
SPIDERS, PEOPLE. SPIDERS.
To be fair, I don't know if it was actually a spider. I'm just assuming it was because of, you know, logic. Mainly the preponderance of spiders in my house, and the lack of anything else that would do such a thing. And my having engaged in certain activities wherein I disturbed things in which spiders might live and then put my loungin' pants atop those things. And, you know, just in general. Although I must state that, while I remember feeling a pinch, it wasn't terrible enough that I thought that it was something that needed to be checked.
I was waiting to freak out because I naturally assumed that all my flesh was going to fall off and then I'd die. But it's now been over 48 hours, and it seems to be okay. It's not swollen, it's less red, the stab wounds scabbed, and it doesn't even itch. -- Which is completely suspicious if you ask me. Of course, it's possible that it was a dry bite. That happens, I'm told.
Either that or this was only a first exposure, and the inevitable next time I will go into anaphylaxis and die.
NOW COMFORT ME DAMMIT.
SPIDERS, PEOPLE. SPIDERS.
To be fair, I don't know if it was actually a spider. I'm just assuming it was because of, you know, logic. Mainly the preponderance of spiders in my house, and the lack of anything else that would do such a thing. And my having engaged in certain activities wherein I disturbed things in which spiders might live and then put my loungin' pants atop those things. And, you know, just in general. Although I must state that, while I remember feeling a pinch, it wasn't terrible enough that I thought that it was something that needed to be checked.
I was waiting to freak out because I naturally assumed that all my flesh was going to fall off and then I'd die. But it's now been over 48 hours, and it seems to be okay. It's not swollen, it's less red, the stab wounds scabbed, and it doesn't even itch. -- Which is completely suspicious if you ask me. Of course, it's possible that it was a dry bite. That happens, I'm told.
Either that or this was only a first exposure, and the inevitable next time I will go into anaphylaxis and die.
NOW COMFORT ME DAMMIT.
Thursday
I'm not knocked up.
I just wanted to say that first, because I'm about to post a side-view of my abdomen, and I didn't want anyone to be confused. ... But then I cropped it anyway, so you can't really tell what part of my body this is. ... But just sayin', it's a side-view of my abdomen. My fragile, squishy abdomen, where any number of things go wrong on a daily basis. ... Just sayin'.
Feel free to zoom!
Friends. Citizens. What does this look like to you? DON'T SPARE MY FEELINGS.
I'm trying to save my freaking out until it's absolutely necessary. But I am not happy.
Feel free to zoom!
Friends. Citizens. What does this look like to you? DON'T SPARE MY FEELINGS.
I'm trying to save my freaking out until it's absolutely necessary. But I am not happy.
Wednesday
Oh God, are you still seeing that terrible story?
I did attempt to update a couple times, but then I got bored or petulant or some other emotion that made me not want to do it. So you missed out on me talking about: knitting; dreams; computer programs. Please ... do not weep.
So, anyway, who's good at Excel and is willing to give me pointers? Apparently I've never had cause to use spreadsheets before. I know, right? So now here we are.
So, anyway, who's good at Excel and is willing to give me pointers? Apparently I've never had cause to use spreadsheets before. I know, right? So now here we are.
HORROR MOVIE IN REAL LIFE.
Today I drove my car to market. Actually, first I drove it to the McDonald's to pick up the giant sweet tea that I often get to reward myself for leaving the house when I don't strictly have to. My life is soberingly predictable most of the time.
So, this is the scene: I am in my car. I am driving down a largish street. It is at this time that I notice something crawling up the frame of my driver's side window. It is a spider. It is inside. And of course it's not just any spider, either! It's one of those ulcerating necrotized bite wound spiders! OF COURSE IT IS! Those things fucking love me!! So as I'm cruising along at around 40 mph, in moderate traffic, I lower my window in the hopes that it will simply slip outside. And then maybe I could crush it squishily by rolling up the window real fast again, or maybe it would just be violently ripped from the window by the outside air flow. I wasn't picky.
BUT IT WAS ON TO ME.
Instead of going out the window, it decided to head for the roof of the car, slipping with sickening awkwardness as it ran along the vinylene or whatever the roof is made of. For the aid of your visualization, I will point out that the part of the roof adjacent to the window is directly over my head. It was one good jostle away from falling in my hair or onto my eyeball or whatever biteable part of me physics would get it to.
It was at this point that I was able to turn onto a small side street, so there were only about 30 seconds in which I might have crashed due to spider terror. So I stopped, turned on the very apt hazard lights, and proceeded to crawl backwards over the seat divider, not taking my eyes of it for a moment. God it was so hideous. Then I got out.
At some point my eyes looked away, and when they looked back it had, naturally, disappeared. Which meant I was going to have to hunt it and kill it or else I would never get home. The street I was stopped on was GREGORY TERR, which was almost prescient. I was a teardrop away from calling my father and telling him I couldn't get back in my car. BUT MY PHONE WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF SPIDER TERRITORY.
Also, it was hot. Hotter than it's been in recent days, and I was wearing long pants and sleeves. I guess at the weather, usually. The radio was still on, and I was listening to the station that I like most of the time. Only now, they had on the DJ that I hate -- he wasn't even supposed to be on yet! -- and they were playing a long block of Bruce Springsteen because apparently, if you're into this, today is his birthday. HE WOULD. (I don't really dislike The Boss all this much, but this was no time for nuance.) And, I mean, have I mentioned about the venomous spider roaming freely in the mystery places of my car? It was, and really, I want to stress this: IT WAS NOT OKAY.
But let's cut to the heroic battle already: I eventually located it, constructing what appeared to be a lair, in the space between the driver's seat and the arm rest. I shuddered for ages. I knocked at things and it fell to the floor. I grabbed my ice scraper like a cudgel. After a few tricky plays, I was finally able to squish it like few invertebrates have been squished before.
Later, after I had made it to the mart, I felt the sudden urge to fall asleep on my feet. That's adrenaline for you. Then I discovered that they were out of that microwavable Pad Thai that I like, so that's why I'm now sitting here eating Lucky Charms. My diet is amazing.
So, this is the scene: I am in my car. I am driving down a largish street. It is at this time that I notice something crawling up the frame of my driver's side window. It is a spider. It is inside. And of course it's not just any spider, either! It's one of those ulcerating necrotized bite wound spiders! OF COURSE IT IS! Those things fucking love me!! So as I'm cruising along at around 40 mph, in moderate traffic, I lower my window in the hopes that it will simply slip outside. And then maybe I could crush it squishily by rolling up the window real fast again, or maybe it would just be violently ripped from the window by the outside air flow. I wasn't picky.
BUT IT WAS ON TO ME.
Instead of going out the window, it decided to head for the roof of the car, slipping with sickening awkwardness as it ran along the vinylene or whatever the roof is made of. For the aid of your visualization, I will point out that the part of the roof adjacent to the window is directly over my head. It was one good jostle away from falling in my hair or onto my eyeball or whatever biteable part of me physics would get it to.
It was at this point that I was able to turn onto a small side street, so there were only about 30 seconds in which I might have crashed due to spider terror. So I stopped, turned on the very apt hazard lights, and proceeded to crawl backwards over the seat divider, not taking my eyes of it for a moment. God it was so hideous. Then I got out.
At some point my eyes looked away, and when they looked back it had, naturally, disappeared. Which meant I was going to have to hunt it and kill it or else I would never get home. The street I was stopped on was GREGORY TERR, which was almost prescient. I was a teardrop away from calling my father and telling him I couldn't get back in my car. BUT MY PHONE WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF SPIDER TERRITORY.
Also, it was hot. Hotter than it's been in recent days, and I was wearing long pants and sleeves. I guess at the weather, usually. The radio was still on, and I was listening to the station that I like most of the time. Only now, they had on the DJ that I hate -- he wasn't even supposed to be on yet! -- and they were playing a long block of Bruce Springsteen because apparently, if you're into this, today is his birthday. HE WOULD. (I don't really dislike The Boss all this much, but this was no time for nuance.) And, I mean, have I mentioned about the venomous spider roaming freely in the mystery places of my car? It was, and really, I want to stress this: IT WAS NOT OKAY.
But let's cut to the heroic battle already: I eventually located it, constructing what appeared to be a lair, in the space between the driver's seat and the arm rest. I shuddered for ages. I knocked at things and it fell to the floor. I grabbed my ice scraper like a cudgel. After a few tricky plays, I was finally able to squish it like few invertebrates have been squished before.
Later, after I had made it to the mart, I felt the sudden urge to fall asleep on my feet. That's adrenaline for you. Then I discovered that they were out of that microwavable Pad Thai that I like, so that's why I'm now sitting here eating Lucky Charms. My diet is amazing.
Tuesday
Let's talk about how I'm sick.
Meme via Valerie.
1. The illnesses I live with are: Polycystic ovarian syndrome, endometriosis, thyroid disease, plus a mess of fun complications.
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 1999, 2007, 2002
3. But I had symptoms since: 1993, 1996, 2002
4. The biggest adjustment I've had to make is: I guess just generally being unwell? I take pills everyday, I see doctors all the time, I get bloodwork and other tests done frequently, I rage about health insurance and doctor incompetence.
5. Most people assume: I don't know if they really assume anything. I mean, unless I say something. A few months ago I mentioned my medication to my niece, and she asked me, "Why are you on medication? You're not crazy." ... It was funny because most people we know are on medication because they're crazy. Although, off medication, people have thought I was crazy, because crashing mood swings are a thing.
6. The hardest part about mornings is: Getting up? I've never been a morning person, though, so I can't say if this is to blame.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: Mystery Diagnosis.
8. A gadget I couldn't live without is: I don't really have gadgets. My pill carrier is pretty useful, but I can find other ways of toting them around.
9. The hardest part about nights is: Getting off the computer? I don't know, it's not really a day/night sort of deal.
10. Each day I take 8 pills & vitamins. I take Glucophage, Yaz (though I need something else, because it sucks), Magnesium, B6, Levothyroxin, Singulair, and Zyrtec. (Oh, I'm also pretty much allergic to everything, but that's not really a disease.)
11. Regarding alternative treatments, I: think they're okay? I mean, alternative treatment in this case means exercise and restricted diets, which I don't do with regularity because in my case they don't make a difference.
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness and a visible one, I would choose: Invisible. I mean, I guess visible illnesses are good (... you know what I mean) because other people can understand them easily and give you appropriate support. But most people probably wouldn't guess that I'm a sickly person, and I really like that better.
13. Regarding working and career: Well, I tried to work in an industry that requires the constant maintenance of youth and beauty while fighting a condition that makes you fat, hairy, discolored, and broken-out. So, there's at least one reason that didn't turn out so well.
14. People would be surprised to know: Well, no offense lady, what you don't know could fill a warehouse.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality is: Nothing? I mean, at this point it's been over ten years, and I don't really know anything else. Before that I was a child, and that just doesn't count.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness was: 1. Be off medication and 2. have babies. 1. I can't, and 2. it's never come up.
17. The commercials about my illness There are no commercials about my illness.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed: Again, I don't really know anything else.
19. It was really hard to give up: Nothing? I mean, I wasn't doing anything that I shouldn't have been doing.
20. A new hobby I've taken up since my diagnosis is: ... Every hobby I've taken up since I was 15. ... I think I'm doing this wrong.
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again, I would: Really, I think I'm doing this wrong. My health issues are so intertwined with everything else in my life, I can't really think about them separately.
22. My illness has taught me: You have to be an active advocate for your own health. You must stay on top of it, because you're the only person who can. Do not rely on doctors. The only difference between a doctor and you is information: if you had the information they had, you'd be a doctor. That said: use doctors. If what they're doing isn't making you better, make them change or get someone who will help you. Do not be passive and do not let things go.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say (about my illness) that gets under my skin is: It's caused by being fat, and if you lose weight, you'll be fine. I get that this is true for a lot of conditions, and frankly sometimes I'm petty about it. I call Type I diabetes "real diabetes" and anytime I hear that someone stopped taking medication after losing weight, my inky heart shrinks a fraction. I've been an healthy and attractive weight, exercised constantly, stuck to a dietitian's plan*, and had optimal levels of all the things medical science worries about**. I was just as sick, just as symptomatic as when I did absolutely nothing. So it goes.
* although there's little about my usual whole-grain organic water-guzzling vegetarian diet you could find fault with. I caught part of this special on television the other day where a woman said she was able to lose weight after she stopped having cookies and soda for breakfast. Christ, I could have spit.
** this is also just generally true. I'm in pretty good shape aside from all the things that are wrong with me.
24. But I love it when people: Are duly impressed at the wealth of things that are wrong with me. Just for a minute. Because, well, yes, it does suck. Thanks for noticing.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: Ha! Not to sound like my mother or anything, but other people have it a lot worse. I mean, not that that makes it suck any less, but I don't have something terminal. It's nothing to shake my fist at God over.
26. When someone is diagnosed I like to tell them: I don't. I like to listen.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: It's surprisingly easy. People apparently freak out at the idea of having to take pills forever and seriously you guys, you guys seriously, it's not that big a deal. Honestly, the biggest problem is how much it all costs. Which once again proves that money can buy you happiness because if I had more money it seriously would fix everything.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn't feeling well was: I can't think of anything. Please feel free to infer that this says horrible things about my life.
29. I'm involved with Invisible Illness Week because: Oh man, I'm totally not involved with anything!
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Suspicious and anxiously secretive.
1. The illnesses I live with are: Polycystic ovarian syndrome, endometriosis, thyroid disease, plus a mess of fun complications.
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 1999, 2007, 2002
3. But I had symptoms since: 1993, 1996, 2002
4. The biggest adjustment I've had to make is: I guess just generally being unwell? I take pills everyday, I see doctors all the time, I get bloodwork and other tests done frequently, I rage about health insurance and doctor incompetence.
5. Most people assume: I don't know if they really assume anything. I mean, unless I say something. A few months ago I mentioned my medication to my niece, and she asked me, "Why are you on medication? You're not crazy." ... It was funny because most people we know are on medication because they're crazy. Although, off medication, people have thought I was crazy, because crashing mood swings are a thing.
6. The hardest part about mornings is: Getting up? I've never been a morning person, though, so I can't say if this is to blame.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: Mystery Diagnosis.
8. A gadget I couldn't live without is: I don't really have gadgets. My pill carrier is pretty useful, but I can find other ways of toting them around.
9. The hardest part about nights is: Getting off the computer? I don't know, it's not really a day/night sort of deal.
10. Each day I take 8 pills & vitamins. I take Glucophage, Yaz (though I need something else, because it sucks), Magnesium, B6, Levothyroxin, Singulair, and Zyrtec. (Oh, I'm also pretty much allergic to everything, but that's not really a disease.)
11. Regarding alternative treatments, I: think they're okay? I mean, alternative treatment in this case means exercise and restricted diets, which I don't do with regularity because in my case they don't make a difference.
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness and a visible one, I would choose: Invisible. I mean, I guess visible illnesses are good (... you know what I mean) because other people can understand them easily and give you appropriate support. But most people probably wouldn't guess that I'm a sickly person, and I really like that better.
13. Regarding working and career: Well, I tried to work in an industry that requires the constant maintenance of youth and beauty while fighting a condition that makes you fat, hairy, discolored, and broken-out. So, there's at least one reason that didn't turn out so well.
14. People would be surprised to know: Well, no offense lady, what you don't know could fill a warehouse.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality is: Nothing? I mean, at this point it's been over ten years, and I don't really know anything else. Before that I was a child, and that just doesn't count.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness was: 1. Be off medication and 2. have babies. 1. I can't, and 2. it's never come up.
17. The commercials about my illness There are no commercials about my illness.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed: Again, I don't really know anything else.
19. It was really hard to give up: Nothing? I mean, I wasn't doing anything that I shouldn't have been doing.
20. A new hobby I've taken up since my diagnosis is: ... Every hobby I've taken up since I was 15. ... I think I'm doing this wrong.
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again, I would: Really, I think I'm doing this wrong. My health issues are so intertwined with everything else in my life, I can't really think about them separately.
22. My illness has taught me: You have to be an active advocate for your own health. You must stay on top of it, because you're the only person who can. Do not rely on doctors. The only difference between a doctor and you is information: if you had the information they had, you'd be a doctor. That said: use doctors. If what they're doing isn't making you better, make them change or get someone who will help you. Do not be passive and do not let things go.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say (about my illness) that gets under my skin is: It's caused by being fat, and if you lose weight, you'll be fine. I get that this is true for a lot of conditions, and frankly sometimes I'm petty about it. I call Type I diabetes "real diabetes" and anytime I hear that someone stopped taking medication after losing weight, my inky heart shrinks a fraction. I've been an healthy and attractive weight, exercised constantly, stuck to a dietitian's plan*, and had optimal levels of all the things medical science worries about**. I was just as sick, just as symptomatic as when I did absolutely nothing. So it goes.
* although there's little about my usual whole-grain organic water-guzzling vegetarian diet you could find fault with. I caught part of this special on television the other day where a woman said she was able to lose weight after she stopped having cookies and soda for breakfast. Christ, I could have spit.
** this is also just generally true. I'm in pretty good shape aside from all the things that are wrong with me.
24. But I love it when people: Are duly impressed at the wealth of things that are wrong with me. Just for a minute. Because, well, yes, it does suck. Thanks for noticing.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: Ha! Not to sound like my mother or anything, but other people have it a lot worse. I mean, not that that makes it suck any less, but I don't have something terminal. It's nothing to shake my fist at God over.
26. When someone is diagnosed I like to tell them: I don't. I like to listen.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: It's surprisingly easy. People apparently freak out at the idea of having to take pills forever and seriously you guys, you guys seriously, it's not that big a deal. Honestly, the biggest problem is how much it all costs. Which once again proves that money can buy you happiness because if I had more money it seriously would fix everything.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn't feeling well was: I can't think of anything. Please feel free to infer that this says horrible things about my life.
29. I'm involved with Invisible Illness Week because: Oh man, I'm totally not involved with anything!
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Suspicious and anxiously secretive.
Saturday
Theme days.
Once again, here's a list of things that, while contemporaneous, are not at all related to each other.
People keep asking me to be physically responsible for various minors. And by "keep asking" I mean I've been asked twice. Which is two more times than I've ever previously been asked to do so. Most of my experience is with e-babies. I still assume it's like holding a cat.
I've been watching Disney movies on tape. I have many of those puffy tape cases. Up to Pocahontas. Because shortly after that I declared my moving on from Disney. So far Dumbo is the most surprisingly racist.
Speaking of people with e-children, would any of you like a doll house? I recently rescued one, only mildly abused. It's about yay big, and would come with a doll-sized grand piano with no front legs, and a doll-sized wall portrait of Patrick Stewart.
People keep asking me to be physically responsible for various minors. And by "keep asking" I mean I've been asked twice. Which is two more times than I've ever previously been asked to do so. Most of my experience is with e-babies. I still assume it's like holding a cat.
I've been watching Disney movies on tape. I have many of those puffy tape cases. Up to Pocahontas. Because shortly after that I declared my moving on from Disney. So far Dumbo is the most surprisingly racist.
Speaking of people with e-children, would any of you like a doll house? I recently rescued one, only mildly abused. It's about yay big, and would come with a doll-sized grand piano with no front legs, and a doll-sized wall portrait of Patrick Stewart.
You've made some very compelling points.
Top pro, from the Steph: I would make great Tweets. No one would know what I was talking about. That was the whole appeal, basically.
Top con, from the P@: I hate interacting with other humans! It's rather low on my list of likes, and very high on my list of dislikes.
So, percentage wise, how much do you predict my hypothetical Twittering could involve:
- Me entertaining myself (and perhaps, as a bonus, others) by shouting into the void
- Me actually talking to, interacting with, and, god forbid, meeting new others?
This is like part two of the Twitter Interview. The Twitter Callback. It's between Twitter and one other candidate. (The other candidate is "No Twitter".)
Also, as if this entry weren't already ridiculous enough: According to GoodReads, my post tag is literally actually true.
Top con, from the P@: I hate interacting with other humans! It's rather low on my list of likes, and very high on my list of dislikes.
So, percentage wise, how much do you predict my hypothetical Twittering could involve:
- Me entertaining myself (and perhaps, as a bonus, others) by shouting into the void
- Me actually talking to, interacting with, and, god forbid, meeting new others?
This is like part two of the Twitter Interview. The Twitter Callback. It's between Twitter and one other candidate. (The other candidate is "No Twitter".)
Also, as if this entry weren't already ridiculous enough: According to GoodReads, my post tag is literally actually true.
Thursday
Sunday
Speaking of New Jersey!
You should totally come live with me!
By "with" I mean "near"! And by "you" I mean ... well, you know which ones you are. The house up the block is for sale. It has hardwood floors, a second-floor patio, no space for multiple children, and only costs a cool half-mil! Which we've all got sitting around, right fellows? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR.
I also have it on good authority that that the house next door to it will also be sold soon. It shouldn't be as expensive. Probably. I mean, it's, like, half the size.
And this is more or less while I will likely never be able to support myself and live like an adult.
PS. The taxes are GODDAMN RIDICULOUS! Act now!
By "with" I mean "near"! And by "you" I mean ... well, you know which ones you are. The house up the block is for sale. It has hardwood floors, a second-floor patio, no space for multiple children, and only costs a cool half-mil! Which we've all got sitting around, right fellows? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR.
I also have it on good authority that that the house next door to it will also be sold soon. It shouldn't be as expensive. Probably. I mean, it's, like, half the size.
And this is more or less while I will likely never be able to support myself and live like an adult.
PS. The taxes are GODDAMN RIDICULOUS! Act now!
Monday
Not on the docket:
Hangin' with Moammar Gadhafi.
You may or may not have heard about how the Leader and Guide of the Revolution is coming to speak at the UN, and about how he wanted to camp out in a tent in Central Park, and how the City of New York was like, "lol no." And then you may have heard about how he decided to do what countless others before him have had to do: settle for Jersey.
Any not just any place in Jersey! A place in Jersey where I just happen to be a significant amount of the time! I'm sure it's popped up on Pat's IP locator, even though at the time I probably wasn't anywhere near there. I totally could have gotten a picture of his tent with my cell phone camera, you guys.
And, you may be thinking, "Amy, why would you want to?" But the real question is: why wouldn't I? You see my point.
But then the town in question was also like, "lol no." Such is life.
You may or may not have heard about how the Leader and Guide of the Revolution is coming to speak at the UN, and about how he wanted to camp out in a tent in Central Park, and how the City of New York was like, "lol no." And then you may have heard about how he decided to do what countless others before him have had to do: settle for Jersey.
Any not just any place in Jersey! A place in Jersey where I just happen to be a significant amount of the time! I'm sure it's popped up on Pat's IP locator, even though at the time I probably wasn't anywhere near there. I totally could have gotten a picture of his tent with my cell phone camera, you guys.
And, you may be thinking, "Amy, why would you want to?" But the real question is: why wouldn't I? You see my point.
But then the town in question was also like, "lol no." Such is life.
In conclusion, Libya is a land of contrasts, thank you.
Wednesday
Full day.
Yesterday I:
- Learned of my cousin's engagement. (It was also her birthday. And the first I've heard from her in months.)
- Had a panic attack.
- Called 911.
- Got a new phone.
In list form, it totally sounds like these things might be related, but they weren't! They were all completely independent of each other, cause-wise. Oh, and everyone's fine. Well. Not the guy in that car, probably.
For your time: http://seemikedraw.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/twilight2.gif
- Learned of my cousin's engagement. (It was also her birthday. And the first I've heard from her in months.)
- Had a panic attack.
- Called 911.
- Got a new phone.
In list form, it totally sounds like these things might be related, but they weren't! They were all completely independent of each other, cause-wise. Oh, and everyone's fine. Well. Not the guy in that car, probably.
For your time: http://seemikedraw.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/twilight2.gif
Thursday
Incidentally, I have curly hair.
Sometimes I forget, because I blow dry it straight. I did so this morning, but then it rained for 11 years and the power went out.
... Actually, those things are only speciously related. This has been happening every day, because I don't have air conditioning. But still, true story!
Aren't you glad you read this post?
... Actually, those things are only speciously related. This has been happening every day, because I don't have air conditioning. But still, true story!
Aren't you glad you read this post?
Tuesday
I'm preparing to be furious!
Apparently they are making a new movie version of "The Lorax". The Lorax, in case I haven't mentioned it, is one of my most favorite things in life.
I hope they don't ruin it the way that absolutely every other Dr. Seuss movie in recent years has been utterly ruined!
I hope they don't ruin it the way that absolutely every other Dr. Seuss movie in recent years has been utterly ruined!
Friday
Sometimes, I'm kind of a dick.
1. I just used ablative absolute in an official correspondence. Heeeeeee!!!
2. Also I ate all your cookies. Sorry. It somehow escaped my attention that people really like cookies, and will want them when you offer them. On the other hand, though, it turns out I still need to work on my ratio of flours, so.
2. Also I ate all your cookies. Sorry. It somehow escaped my attention that people really like cookies, and will want them when you offer them. On the other hand, though, it turns out I still need to work on my ratio of flours, so.
Wednesday
Congratulations, Chamber of Secrets!
You are no longer the most boring Harry Potter movie!
[Begin Spoiler for HBP Review, in which I say "UGH" a lot. ... Metaphorically. — Highlight to view]
If you haven't seen it yet, maybe you shouldn't read this. I mean, I don't know. I don't want to ruin things for you. I've seen a lot of very positive reviews, and much internet chatter saying that this was "ZOMG Best One Ever!!!" and, frankly, you may agree. I don't want to take the possibility that you may agree away from you. But me, I'm profoundly disappointed right now.
The profundity of my disappointment is due, in main, to the fact that this is the first time it's happened. This is the first time I've sat in a theater, watched a Potter film, and as the credits began to roll thought: "I didn't like it. It wasn't good. I am disappointed." And in fact, it started before that. At some point I started to fretfully realize that the film wasn't going well. I had the horrible suspicion that it wasn't good, and I wasn't going to walk away liking it. I tried to shove that feeling down, but it would not be denied.
And just so we're clear - I'm not talking about things cut or things changed. I do not care. Frankly, I think they could have cut more than they did. If I've said it once, I've said it (and you've read it) a thousand times: I am not a book adaptation purist. In fact, and this may be the linguist in me, I sort of love seeing the changes and the omissions - the translation of the story from book to screen. Book and screen are two languages I'm fluent in, so this is a thrill I can't as yet receive from actual languages. As a stand-alone entity, the movie is mediocre. As a translated retelling of the book, it's mediocre.
That's the thing - it's not flat out bad. And, of course, being Potter, there were parts of it that I liked and enjoyed seeing brought to life, and I'll probably talk about those further on if this doesn't get tediously long before then. But the whole of it did not hang. Altogether, it was dull and lackluster and boring. Even the explosions felt muted and clinical; how the fuck do you make SHIT BLOWS UP into something boring? I'm not sure, but this film managed it.
The problem is, I suspect, two-fold: lazy screenwriting and ineffective directing. Let's start with the first. HBP is rather plot-lite. I mean, in terms of the overall fight of good vs. evil. The book makes up for with a lot of (sometimes awkward) color. I think this is why I can't decide where HBP falls in my book rankings. I love it, but it's ultimately filler. The script takes two plotlines: the learn-about-Voldemort plot and the teen-romance plot, and half-asses both of them. The memory scenes felt like filler, but then so did all the other scenes. Which one is the A-plot?
Then, there's the criminal misuse of Alan Rickman. At the end, where he reveals himself to be the Half-Blood Prince, my eyes rolled of their own accord, and I had to suppress a WHO CARES. Because, honestly, who gives a shit at that point? The whole thing is a side-note, there's no suspense regarding the Prince's identity, and it adds nothing to the story. If it weren't the title of the goddamn movie (which should have been a hint), they would have been better off cutting it entirely. Finally, it was a stupid coda to a scene that was already robbed of most of its emotional resonance.
I'm going to slip in here that the best performance of the film was given by Tom Felton, hands down. I don't think that he, personally, could have done anything more to make his part awesome. But his part, too, was ineptly pared down. From what I can tell onscreen, things seem to be going pretty well and then after a small setback suddenly Draco's sobbing in a bathroom. It makes his emotional turmoil at the end feel shallow and not fully convincing. If not for the aforementioned skill of Mr. Felton, I probably wouldn't have cared at all.
And here's the thing: WHO CARES? Well, I do. Or did, anyway. I cared walking into the theater. I've been caring for over a year waiting for this movie to come out. Hell, I've been caring for half my life at this point. If they couldn't keep my sympathies, they did something wrong.
Now I'm going to talk about directing. And I'm going to talk about directing with the authority that I've actually directed stuff, and because this is my blog and you love me you'll refrain from pointing out that I've never directed anything on film and therefore sound like a jerk. Good deal? Alright. So, I've decided that I don't think David Yates is a good director. This makes me sad because I would really like it to be otherwise. And ... I don't know. I'm not saying he's Chris Columbus by any means. He's not bad like that. But I feel he may be out of his league trying to direct something on this large a scale. I was hoping that all he needed was a chance to find his footing, but this film took all the things that didn't work in Order of the Phoenix and magnified them, which means all that's happening is he's just getting more confident with his mistakes.
If you watch any interviews with David Yates, you'll find that he's very unassuming and soft-spoken. I feel like he projects that personality onto his work. There were literally times when I was struggling to hear the dialogue. And his big thing seems to be reining the actors in - pushing for more subtlety. And I'm all for that! I enjoy subtlety in acting! But when subdued acting is your raw material, you need to do more to bring the audience into it. The transitions here are dead. The pacing is terrible. The beats are stilted and awkward. Like with OOTP, I found that I liked scenes individually, but it was a pain and a half getting "into" them. And GOOD GOD save me from David Yates and his wide shots. I'm serious. I get what he's going for, I think. Putting the audience at a distance from the characters makes the characters seem more intimate with each other. But it doesn't make the audience intimate with the characters. Sometimes we need to get right up in their business to remember why we like them. And always, techniques in moderation, please.
Also, for all the "humor" supposedly in this film - no one laughed. Like, ever. At one point I remember finding something funny and wanting to laugh, but feeling stifled by the fact that no one else was laughing. Frankly, Daniel Radcliffe does comedy really well. Harry on Felix Felicis was hilarious. And yet, awkward. Again, the beats. Jokes were over and gone before people realized they'd been made. David Yates may know how to get good performances out of actors, and I'll admit I think he does, but he has no idea how to craft a scene.
The cinematography, on the other hand, was gorgeous. This is probably one of the prettiest films I've seen in some time. But it wasn't put to good use either. It was like a mirror: shiny, cold, flat, and with no life other than what you project onto it.
Also, just throwing this out there: the score didn't match up with the action. I don't know whose fault that was.
I will have to admit, though, that the Inferi scene was bad-ass. I jumped, even though I saw it coming. I was nearly on the edge of my seat, but at that point, I was already suffering from numb disappointment, so it was hard to really live in the moment.
Dumbledore's death scene was well done, but felt somewhat inorganic and emotionally manipulative after the flatness of everything that preceded it. Oh, hands raised in solidarity! Lights in the sky! Haunting music! Again: WHO CARES.
And what in the Christing Christ was that line about Harry having never noticed how beautiful Hogwarts was? Aside from perhaps the Burrow, Hogwarts is the only beautiful place Harry has ever seen. FAIL, Kloves.
[End Spoiler]
I guess I'm done for now. I feel rather incredibly down. So, I'm going to go make what may be the best cookies known to man. If you read all this, and especially if you reply, please let me know if you would like me to send you one.
[Begin Spoiler for HBP Review, in which I say "UGH" a lot. ... Metaphorically. — Highlight to view]
If you haven't seen it yet, maybe you shouldn't read this. I mean, I don't know. I don't want to ruin things for you. I've seen a lot of very positive reviews, and much internet chatter saying that this was "ZOMG Best One Ever!!!" and, frankly, you may agree. I don't want to take the possibility that you may agree away from you. But me, I'm profoundly disappointed right now.
The profundity of my disappointment is due, in main, to the fact that this is the first time it's happened. This is the first time I've sat in a theater, watched a Potter film, and as the credits began to roll thought: "I didn't like it. It wasn't good. I am disappointed." And in fact, it started before that. At some point I started to fretfully realize that the film wasn't going well. I had the horrible suspicion that it wasn't good, and I wasn't going to walk away liking it. I tried to shove that feeling down, but it would not be denied.
And just so we're clear - I'm not talking about things cut or things changed. I do not care. Frankly, I think they could have cut more than they did. If I've said it once, I've said it (and you've read it) a thousand times: I am not a book adaptation purist. In fact, and this may be the linguist in me, I sort of love seeing the changes and the omissions - the translation of the story from book to screen. Book and screen are two languages I'm fluent in, so this is a thrill I can't as yet receive from actual languages. As a stand-alone entity, the movie is mediocre. As a translated retelling of the book, it's mediocre.
That's the thing - it's not flat out bad. And, of course, being Potter, there were parts of it that I liked and enjoyed seeing brought to life, and I'll probably talk about those further on if this doesn't get tediously long before then. But the whole of it did not hang. Altogether, it was dull and lackluster and boring. Even the explosions felt muted and clinical; how the fuck do you make SHIT BLOWS UP into something boring? I'm not sure, but this film managed it.
The problem is, I suspect, two-fold: lazy screenwriting and ineffective directing. Let's start with the first. HBP is rather plot-lite. I mean, in terms of the overall fight of good vs. evil. The book makes up for with a lot of (sometimes awkward) color. I think this is why I can't decide where HBP falls in my book rankings. I love it, but it's ultimately filler. The script takes two plotlines: the learn-about-Voldemort plot and the teen-romance plot, and half-asses both of them. The memory scenes felt like filler, but then so did all the other scenes. Which one is the A-plot?
Then, there's the criminal misuse of Alan Rickman. At the end, where he reveals himself to be the Half-Blood Prince, my eyes rolled of their own accord, and I had to suppress a WHO CARES. Because, honestly, who gives a shit at that point? The whole thing is a side-note, there's no suspense regarding the Prince's identity, and it adds nothing to the story. If it weren't the title of the goddamn movie (which should have been a hint), they would have been better off cutting it entirely. Finally, it was a stupid coda to a scene that was already robbed of most of its emotional resonance.
I'm going to slip in here that the best performance of the film was given by Tom Felton, hands down. I don't think that he, personally, could have done anything more to make his part awesome. But his part, too, was ineptly pared down. From what I can tell onscreen, things seem to be going pretty well and then after a small setback suddenly Draco's sobbing in a bathroom. It makes his emotional turmoil at the end feel shallow and not fully convincing. If not for the aforementioned skill of Mr. Felton, I probably wouldn't have cared at all.
And here's the thing: WHO CARES? Well, I do. Or did, anyway. I cared walking into the theater. I've been caring for over a year waiting for this movie to come out. Hell, I've been caring for half my life at this point. If they couldn't keep my sympathies, they did something wrong.
Now I'm going to talk about directing. And I'm going to talk about directing with the authority that I've actually directed stuff, and because this is my blog and you love me you'll refrain from pointing out that I've never directed anything on film and therefore sound like a jerk. Good deal? Alright. So, I've decided that I don't think David Yates is a good director. This makes me sad because I would really like it to be otherwise. And ... I don't know. I'm not saying he's Chris Columbus by any means. He's not bad like that. But I feel he may be out of his league trying to direct something on this large a scale. I was hoping that all he needed was a chance to find his footing, but this film took all the things that didn't work in Order of the Phoenix and magnified them, which means all that's happening is he's just getting more confident with his mistakes.
If you watch any interviews with David Yates, you'll find that he's very unassuming and soft-spoken. I feel like he projects that personality onto his work. There were literally times when I was struggling to hear the dialogue. And his big thing seems to be reining the actors in - pushing for more subtlety. And I'm all for that! I enjoy subtlety in acting! But when subdued acting is your raw material, you need to do more to bring the audience into it. The transitions here are dead. The pacing is terrible. The beats are stilted and awkward. Like with OOTP, I found that I liked scenes individually, but it was a pain and a half getting "into" them. And GOOD GOD save me from David Yates and his wide shots. I'm serious. I get what he's going for, I think. Putting the audience at a distance from the characters makes the characters seem more intimate with each other. But it doesn't make the audience intimate with the characters. Sometimes we need to get right up in their business to remember why we like them. And always, techniques in moderation, please.
Also, for all the "humor" supposedly in this film - no one laughed. Like, ever. At one point I remember finding something funny and wanting to laugh, but feeling stifled by the fact that no one else was laughing. Frankly, Daniel Radcliffe does comedy really well. Harry on Felix Felicis was hilarious. And yet, awkward. Again, the beats. Jokes were over and gone before people realized they'd been made. David Yates may know how to get good performances out of actors, and I'll admit I think he does, but he has no idea how to craft a scene.
The cinematography, on the other hand, was gorgeous. This is probably one of the prettiest films I've seen in some time. But it wasn't put to good use either. It was like a mirror: shiny, cold, flat, and with no life other than what you project onto it.
Also, just throwing this out there: the score didn't match up with the action. I don't know whose fault that was.
I will have to admit, though, that the Inferi scene was bad-ass. I jumped, even though I saw it coming. I was nearly on the edge of my seat, but at that point, I was already suffering from numb disappointment, so it was hard to really live in the moment.
Dumbledore's death scene was well done, but felt somewhat inorganic and emotionally manipulative after the flatness of everything that preceded it. Oh, hands raised in solidarity! Lights in the sky! Haunting music! Again: WHO CARES.
And what in the Christing Christ was that line about Harry having never noticed how beautiful Hogwarts was? Aside from perhaps the Burrow, Hogwarts is the only beautiful place Harry has ever seen. FAIL, Kloves.
[End Spoiler]
I guess I'm done for now. I feel rather incredibly down. So, I'm going to go make what may be the best cookies known to man. If you read all this, and especially if you reply, please let me know if you would like me to send you one.
Friday
In other, non-death related news.
Today I drove to the supermarket. Or "mart" as I like to call it. This is really not interesting. For a portion of the drive, I was behind a car that I couldn't identify. It didn't look especially fancy. The front was oddly tapered. The logo on the back was an oval, with a capital "R", slanting to the right, with what I'd guess you'd call a strikethrough.
Approximately like so:
Some script off the the right let me know that the car is "supercharged." It had no other distinguishing markings. I determined that when I returned home, I would google this anomaly and edify myself.
GOOGLE FAILED ME. I checked long lists of logos including those of companies that haven't existed since the 30s. Searching for the letter "r" is an exercise in futility. I am bitterly disappointed.
What is it?! I don't know! What if I never find out? Can you help me? Do you know? SOMEONE TELL ME.
Approximately like so:
Some script off the the right let me know that the car is "supercharged." It had no other distinguishing markings. I determined that when I returned home, I would google this anomaly and edify myself.
GOOGLE FAILED ME. I checked long lists of logos including those of companies that haven't existed since the 30s. Searching for the letter "r" is an exercise in futility. I am bitterly disappointed.
What is it?! I don't know! What if I never find out? Can you help me? Do you know? SOMEONE TELL ME.
Thursday
Wednesday
Ha ha, very funny, Twitter.
I've done very little in the past few days besides watching the situation in Iran.
Well, that's true in a sense, but in another sense I've also been demolishing my bedroom, writing a novel, and having food poisoning. But none of those things involve being too far away from the computer, so.
There's so much information. I've heard terrible things, and recently I've heard some very good things, but it's hard to know what's real and what isn't. I also feel anxious and sad because there's not much I can do. I did send an email to His Excellency the Ayatollah Khamenei today. So, there's that.
I don't see a lot of people talking about this, and I don't know what you know, but here's a bunch of links:
Good ol' Wikipedia
Why you should care
A flyer about what's going on
A coup in three steps
5 reasons to doubt the election results
The Huffington Post
Andrew Sullivan
I don't know what hashtags are, but maybe you do
ontd_political
Why We Protest
Flickr
If you use Twitter: a very simple thing you can do to help is change your Twitter location to Iran, and your time zone to GMT +3:30. This makes it harder to figure out who is and is not tweeting from Iran, which makes the users who are doing so less vulnerable to the government agencies trying to shut them down.
If you're feeling especially charitable, you can set up a proxy for Iranian users.
Worldwide Protests this Saturday
Well, that's true in a sense, but in another sense I've also been demolishing my bedroom, writing a novel, and having food poisoning. But none of those things involve being too far away from the computer, so.
There's so much information. I've heard terrible things, and recently I've heard some very good things, but it's hard to know what's real and what isn't. I also feel anxious and sad because there's not much I can do. I did send an email to His Excellency the Ayatollah Khamenei today. So, there's that.
I don't see a lot of people talking about this, and I don't know what you know, but here's a bunch of links:
Good ol' Wikipedia
Why you should care
A flyer about what's going on
A coup in three steps
5 reasons to doubt the election results
The Huffington Post
Andrew Sullivan
I don't know what hashtags are, but maybe you do
ontd_political
Why We Protest
Flickr
If you use Twitter: a very simple thing you can do to help is change your Twitter location to Iran, and your time zone to GMT +3:30. This makes it harder to figure out who is and is not tweeting from Iran, which makes the users who are doing so less vulnerable to the government agencies trying to shut them down.
If you're feeling especially charitable, you can set up a proxy for Iranian users.
Worldwide Protests this Saturday
Friday
Stop what you're doing, because this is infinitely more important.
You may ask what could be more important than whatever you were just doing. I will tell you. This post is about BABY BUNNIES. As in the BABY BUNNIES that are living in my garden.
And now without further ado, BABY BUNNIES.
This is mommy bunny.
These are BABY BUNNIES.
These two like to hide and cuddle.
This one craves adventure.
... As you were.
And now without further ado, BABY BUNNIES.
This is mommy bunny.
These are BABY BUNNIES.
These two like to hide and cuddle.
This one craves adventure.
... As you were.
Thursday
Why I simultaneously need, and do not need, a Twitter.
First and foremost, I don't want a Twitter. I dislike most websites that fall under the heading of "social networking." Also, I don't care what I do all day. If I were doing anything interesting enough to warrant frequent documentation, I wouldn't have the time.
Sometimes, though, I think about what I would write in my hypothetical Twitter. Or something will happen, and I'll think it's just the sort of thing I would Twitter about. You know, stuff that's not really blog-appropriate. I thought about compiling some of these things, and making a blog entry about Things I Would Have Twittered, but I never actually write them down, and then I forget about them and no longer care.
Furthermore, while I may want to write these things down, I don't exactly want people to read them. I don't want people to follow me, I don't want to follow anyone, I especially don't want to follow anyone famous, and I don't want to be in any way connectable or findable. (I totally Googled some people I knew in high school yesterday.)
On some other hand, though, Twitter would provide a great venue for cryptic one-liners. And those are my favorite. I would be utterly delighted to give my inscrutable gibberish as little context as possible. I am positively itching to let you know everything while letting you know nothing!!
... It is not and has never been a mystery why I have trouble socializing.
Sometimes, though, I think about what I would write in my hypothetical Twitter. Or something will happen, and I'll think it's just the sort of thing I would Twitter about. You know, stuff that's not really blog-appropriate. I thought about compiling some of these things, and making a blog entry about Things I Would Have Twittered, but I never actually write them down, and then I forget about them and no longer care.
Furthermore, while I may want to write these things down, I don't exactly want people to read them. I don't want people to follow me, I don't want to follow anyone, I especially don't want to follow anyone famous, and I don't want to be in any way connectable or findable. (I totally Googled some people I knew in high school yesterday.)
On some other hand, though, Twitter would provide a great venue for cryptic one-liners. And those are my favorite. I would be utterly delighted to give my inscrutable gibberish as little context as possible. I am positively itching to let you know everything while letting you know nothing!!
... It is not and has never been a mystery why I have trouble socializing.
Saturday
Can't socialize -- obsessed with crappy book series.
I drooled on myself while I was laughing. It was undignified.
Sunday
FURSPLOSION!!
I have to admit that I've been a little worried about New Moon. What with the closed set and the new director and the bigger budget and the use of colors other than blue, I worried that I might have to take it seriously. That it might be ... I don't know, kinda good? Maybe? Good enough to negate its value as a B-movie cult comedy classic at any rate.
This evening I saw the teaser trailer. WORRY CURED.
This evening I saw the teaser trailer. WORRY CURED.
Saturday
Storyteller.
I have been extra thinky lately, and I feel a desire to write. Of course, my usual problems with writing still apply, mainly a crippling fear of plot.
So here's what I propose: I'll write a story for you! Yes! You. All you have to do is tell me what story you would like me to tell to you. Then, in the reasonably near future, I will write that story. And ... blog it, I guess.
Open-ended, time-wise. First come, first served. Be as specific as you dare, for I have short-term imagination loss.
So here's what I propose: I'll write a story for you! Yes! You. All you have to do is tell me what story you would like me to tell to you. Then, in the reasonably near future, I will write that story. And ... blog it, I guess.
Open-ended, time-wise. First come, first served. Be as specific as you dare, for I have short-term imagination loss.
Thursday
status
In the good news pile, my internet is repaired. Yes, just today. It ... please. In other news, though, I have the plague. But probably not swine flu, and I don't think I will become a zombie, so that's pretty good. Of course, I frequently have the plague. I'd estimate that I have some sort of respiratory infection or inflammation approximately 40% of the time, I just don't tell you about it. It would be like saying, "By the way, I still have fingers." But I mentioned it last time so I feel the need to tie up loose ends. Also it relates to my next two points:
- I was going to make a post for Mother's Day which I'd been planning to write since last Father's Day. I didn't, because I was busy having plague. So when I write it eventually, pretend that it's adorably timely.
- I will be house sitting this weekend, and besides watching a lot of HBO OnDemand and eating less healthily than usual, I will probably be bored. I was going to suggest you call me! You know, if you want to geek out about your new iPod, or if you've had a baby (or want to talk about Lost, whichever), or if you have an international calling card you're desperate to waste, or what have you. It could have been fun! But I kind of can't talk because I have plague. So I hope there's reruns of True Blood.
- I was going to make a post for Mother's Day which I'd been planning to write since last Father's Day. I didn't, because I was busy having plague. So when I write it eventually, pretend that it's adorably timely.
- I will be house sitting this weekend, and besides watching a lot of HBO OnDemand and eating less healthily than usual, I will probably be bored. I was going to suggest you call me! You know, if you want to geek out about your new iPod, or if you've had a baby (or want to talk about Lost, whichever), or if you have an international calling card you're desperate to waste, or what have you. It could have been fun! But I kind of can't talk because I have plague. So I hope there's reruns of True Blood.
Wednesday
Things that are currently killing me.
In no particular order:
1. My sinuses. It's too early to tell if I have an ear infection, a cold, swine flu, or if I just breathed in too much pine tree (which may lead to one of the preceding), but the left side of my face is not happy.
2. My uterus? I don't even know what body parts are at issue, but I've been having lots of pain in the lower abdominal region for a few weeks. And no, it's not that thing that women get. Or, I don't know, maybe it's that thing that some women get, me being one of those women. Maybe I should have mentioned that this one was going to be about stuff growing on my girl organs. OH SORRY. Anyway, this is not a new problem, but if this is what it is, it's certainly a new intensity.
3. Money. Or rather, my lack thereof. You know how poor you are? I wish I were that poor right now.
4. My mother. Enough said.
5. The internet, general. For the past three days I have had a slow, wonky connection. This sucks because not only am I on the internet all the time, some of that time spent on the internet I'm actually doing important things that may cause me to be less poor. Also because if I see "Page Load Error" one more time, I may have to do something crazy like go watch television or maybe even read a book. I could have been doing both those things on the internet!
6. The internet, specific. Take a look at this. In the immortal words of the great Christian Bale, NO, FUCK NO!
and, as always...
7. Other people. Hell, it is them.
1. My sinuses. It's too early to tell if I have an ear infection, a cold, swine flu, or if I just breathed in too much pine tree (which may lead to one of the preceding), but the left side of my face is not happy.
2. My uterus? I don't even know what body parts are at issue, but I've been having lots of pain in the lower abdominal region for a few weeks. And no, it's not that thing that women get. Or, I don't know, maybe it's that thing that some women get, me being one of those women. Maybe I should have mentioned that this one was going to be about stuff growing on my girl organs. OH SORRY. Anyway, this is not a new problem, but if this is what it is, it's certainly a new intensity.
3. Money. Or rather, my lack thereof. You know how poor you are? I wish I were that poor right now.
4. My mother. Enough said.
5. The internet, general. For the past three days I have had a slow, wonky connection. This sucks because not only am I on the internet all the time, some of that time spent on the internet I'm actually doing important things that may cause me to be less poor. Also because if I see "Page Load Error" one more time, I may have to do something crazy like go watch television or maybe even read a book. I could have been doing both those things on the internet!
6. The internet, specific. Take a look at this. In the immortal words of the great Christian Bale, NO, FUCK NO!
and, as always...
7. Other people. Hell, it is them.
Friday
Success!!
Today I received a call from my niece, officially inviting me to her birthday party.
In the course of the conversation, she told me that she wanted me to make her a mix CD, like I have previously done. Because she listens to those, and the Beatles CD I got her, all the time. She knows all the words to all the songs. She thinks I have amazing taste.
I am so pleased with myself right now. I can't remember if I wrote about it here or not, but it had been my intent to introduce her to better music than the Z100 crap she favored. ... Thereby saving her life through art and making sure she doesn't become an insipid and unmindful and jaded person. Pretentious? Yes. Jerky? Maybe. But whatever because PHASE ONE COMPLETE.
... She also made a list of songs she wants included. Apparently her favorite song right now is "If U Seek Amy." Which, I mean, I'd object, but let's just say that would involve a certain amount of hypocrisy.
Later in the conversation she informed me of her plans to become a forensic investigator, and told me she looks up to me because I don't need a man to complete my life.
She will be 11.
In the course of the conversation, she told me that she wanted me to make her a mix CD, like I have previously done. Because she listens to those, and the Beatles CD I got her, all the time. She knows all the words to all the songs. She thinks I have amazing taste.
I am so pleased with myself right now. I can't remember if I wrote about it here or not, but it had been my intent to introduce her to better music than the Z100 crap she favored. ... Thereby saving her life through art and making sure she doesn't become an insipid and unmindful and jaded person. Pretentious? Yes. Jerky? Maybe. But whatever because PHASE ONE COMPLETE.
... She also made a list of songs she wants included. Apparently her favorite song right now is "If U Seek Amy." Which, I mean, I'd object, but let's just say that would involve a certain amount of hypocrisy.
Later in the conversation she informed me of her plans to become a forensic investigator, and told me she looks up to me because I don't need a man to complete my life.
She will be 11.
Monday
Update for the sake of updating.
I am still sad, and nothing has felt interesting enough to blog about, but I figured it was time to bump the dead cat post from the top of the list.
It was suddenly a billion degrees over the weekend, and I was ill. I figured the best thing to do would be to annihilate Madagascar with Fluffy Kitten Amoebic Encephalopathy, but the only time I managed to get them, Canada screwed me over by closing its borders and developing a vaccine. Curse you, socialized medicine!
Thank goodness for New Moon filming, though. It has kept me up to my ears in lulz, despite the super secretness of the production. If you ever wondered what happened to Merry's hair from LotR, don't worry. It went to a good home.
Speaking of filming, I may have teared up. I'm not saying definitely, but it might have happened.
It was suddenly a billion degrees over the weekend, and I was ill. I figured the best thing to do would be to annihilate Madagascar with Fluffy Kitten Amoebic Encephalopathy, but the only time I managed to get them, Canada screwed me over by closing its borders and developing a vaccine. Curse you, socialized medicine!
Thank goodness for New Moon filming, though. It has kept me up to my ears in lulz, despite the super secretness of the production. If you ever wondered what happened to Merry's hair from LotR, don't worry. It went to a good home.
Speaking of filming, I may have teared up. I'm not saying definitely, but it might have happened.
Easter Lily.
After a wonderful month followed by a horrible week, Lily died on Easter. Perhaps I never appreciated her well-developed sense of irony.
Wednesday
Radio woes.
Do you remember the last time I talked about radio? It turns out it was almost a year ago. But I still listen when I drive in my car! Which means that I listen to the radio at least three days a week, often more!
Here is my tale of woe: I may have to break up with WRXP. I may have to do this because WRXP may be turning into K-Rock.
Now, the last time I talked about K-Rock was here. At the time I was very pleased with it. Although I didn't expressly mention it, that turned out to be very short-lived. When I was in high school, I referred to K-Rock almost exclusively as "Douche Rock." On the surface I did this to annoy my guy friends who were enamored of it. In reality, it was so called because the entire station was nothing but a cesspool of bad music, casual misogyny, and obnoxious djs designed to appeal exclusively to the young male in extended adolescence. Actually, I can sum it up in two words: Howard Stern.
It was entertaining for a while, as described in my previous entry. Then they decided to trumpet their resurgence with a new ad campaign that featured mostly naked girls, inviting listeners to check out the station's online galleries, where they could surf until their hands cramped. And they expanded their 90s-based repertoire with whiny screamo.
But no matter, for I had my new radio boyfriend, WRXP, New York's Rock Experience.
Fast forward to ... I don't know, last month, maybe? K-Rock is off the air! I know! It has been replaced with a station where I can listen to all those new Britney Spears songs and actually find out what Lady GaGa sounds like, if I so choose. On the surface, this should be, if not positive news, then at least neutral-leaning-towards-positive news. I mean, I only ever listened to it if all the other stations were simultaneously playing commercials and/or U2. (Update on that, incidentally: They never fucking stopped rhapsodizing about U2, so I actually do kind of hate them now.)
But about two weeks ago, I was driving towards my home, and an ad came on, aimed at former K-Rock listeners. It promised them a new home at WRXP, as well as a familiar voice: one of the K-Rock djs would join the station, and do a ridiculously long shift in the afternoon/early-evening. Ugh. ... Ugh. I was already mildly angry from a few days prior when they had played a song by Fall Out Boy. (I think, anyway; I don't actually know what song it was, but it was whiny.)
But never let it be said that I don't give things a fair optimistic chance before deciding that I loathe them. I mean, I expected Twilight to be good. It took almost two weeks for me to write this entry.
I still don't know his name, but Christ, he's awful. The sort that thinks things are funnier when he shouts them. The sort that thinks he is desperately funny, and laughs at his own jokes to further that impression. The sort that addresses callers as "dude" and "my man." I was hoping it would abate with time and he would fit in with the tone of the other djs at the station.
Today he was giving away free tickets, in the manner that radio stations sometimes do. A woman called in, and he greeted her by saying: "Oh, a lovely female caller, hello." After telling her that she was the winner, he mimicked her excitement in an overwrought falsetto. He then told her that she was getting the tickets on a "five-finger discount" to which he then added: "That's Ebonics for 'free'." After I put my jaw back in place, I changed the station, because I'd heard enough.
I feel like I should write to the station to complain, but I don't know what to say. I hate to be one of those people who only comments to complain. But on the other hand, ever since they arrived on the airwaves, they've been billing themselves as a refreshing change from all the terrible radio New York has to offer. And up until now, they were. But there's a reason that people were looking for a change from stations like K-Rock, and dare I say, a reason K-Rock is now off the air. I am most displeased.
To make matter worse, I just saw one of those spiders in my bedroom and now I don't know where it is and it's probably going to bite me in my sleep. ... I know that part has nothing to do with radio, but COME ON. ETA: I met my enemy for a second time and succeeded in slaughtering the foul beast. Other problem still stands.
Here is my tale of woe: I may have to break up with WRXP. I may have to do this because WRXP may be turning into K-Rock.
Now, the last time I talked about K-Rock was here. At the time I was very pleased with it. Although I didn't expressly mention it, that turned out to be very short-lived. When I was in high school, I referred to K-Rock almost exclusively as "Douche Rock." On the surface I did this to annoy my guy friends who were enamored of it. In reality, it was so called because the entire station was nothing but a cesspool of bad music, casual misogyny, and obnoxious djs designed to appeal exclusively to the young male in extended adolescence. Actually, I can sum it up in two words: Howard Stern.
It was entertaining for a while, as described in my previous entry. Then they decided to trumpet their resurgence with a new ad campaign that featured mostly naked girls, inviting listeners to check out the station's online galleries, where they could surf until their hands cramped. And they expanded their 90s-based repertoire with whiny screamo.
But no matter, for I had my new radio boyfriend, WRXP, New York's Rock Experience.
Fast forward to ... I don't know, last month, maybe? K-Rock is off the air! I know! It has been replaced with a station where I can listen to all those new Britney Spears songs and actually find out what Lady GaGa sounds like, if I so choose. On the surface, this should be, if not positive news, then at least neutral-leaning-towards-positive news. I mean, I only ever listened to it if all the other stations were simultaneously playing commercials and/or U2. (Update on that, incidentally: They never fucking stopped rhapsodizing about U2, so I actually do kind of hate them now.)
But about two weeks ago, I was driving towards my home, and an ad came on, aimed at former K-Rock listeners. It promised them a new home at WRXP, as well as a familiar voice: one of the K-Rock djs would join the station, and do a ridiculously long shift in the afternoon/early-evening. Ugh. ... Ugh. I was already mildly angry from a few days prior when they had played a song by Fall Out Boy. (I think, anyway; I don't actually know what song it was, but it was whiny.)
But never let it be said that I don't give things a fair optimistic chance before deciding that I loathe them. I mean, I expected Twilight to be good. It took almost two weeks for me to write this entry.
I still don't know his name, but Christ, he's awful. The sort that thinks things are funnier when he shouts them. The sort that thinks he is desperately funny, and laughs at his own jokes to further that impression. The sort that addresses callers as "dude" and "my man." I was hoping it would abate with time and he would fit in with the tone of the other djs at the station.
Today he was giving away free tickets, in the manner that radio stations sometimes do. A woman called in, and he greeted her by saying: "Oh, a lovely female caller, hello." After telling her that she was the winner, he mimicked her excitement in an overwrought falsetto. He then told her that she was getting the tickets on a "five-finger discount" to which he then added: "That's Ebonics for 'free'." After I put my jaw back in place, I changed the station, because I'd heard enough.
I feel like I should write to the station to complain, but I don't know what to say. I hate to be one of those people who only comments to complain. But on the other hand, ever since they arrived on the airwaves, they've been billing themselves as a refreshing change from all the terrible radio New York has to offer. And up until now, they were. But there's a reason that people were looking for a change from stations like K-Rock, and dare I say, a reason K-Rock is now off the air. I am most displeased.
That was interesting.
In my dream last night, I looked up an unfamiliar word in the dictionary, and the definition therein turned out to be the actual definition of the word.
I'm fascinated by this because I didn't know the word at all until I discovered the information, at which point I was flooded with understanding. But clearly I already knew it, because the only resource I used was my own brain. I literally opened a book inside my head that contained things I know but have forgotten. It makes me wonder what else I know that I don't know that I know.
PS the word was "prosody."
I'm fascinated by this because I didn't know the word at all until I discovered the information, at which point I was flooded with understanding. But clearly I already knew it, because the only resource I used was my own brain. I literally opened a book inside my head that contained things I know but have forgotten. It makes me wonder what else I know that I don't know that I know.
PS the word was "prosody."
Friday
Monday
WB is genius evil.
Ask any Harry Potter fan who've ever ended a rant against them with the sentence: "Yeah I'm still gonna see the movie."
Latest example: Ciarán Hinds has been cast as Aberforth Dumbledore for Deathly Hallows.
As you might recall, Aberforth was already cast and played by someone else in Order of the Phoenix. The completist in me rails at this, because why bother casting the part if you weren't going to have the same actor back? At best it shows a lack of foresight. Now the continuity is all messed up, you jerks!
But on the other hand, omg Ciarán Hinds!!
The corporation is slowly draining away my nerd morals.
Latest example: Ciarán Hinds has been cast as Aberforth Dumbledore for Deathly Hallows.
As you might recall, Aberforth was already cast and played by someone else in Order of the Phoenix. The completist in me rails at this, because why bother casting the part if you weren't going to have the same actor back? At best it shows a lack of foresight. Now the continuity is all messed up, you jerks!
But on the other hand, omg Ciarán Hinds!!
The corporation is slowly draining away my nerd morals.
Saturday
NO MORE ROBOTS.
... Except for the new Robots movie. And the new Robots series. Which I can apparently get on DVD? (??)
NO MORE ROBOTS, though.
It was a three tissue evening.
There were things I liked.
There were things I did not like.
One of my pet theories was shot to hell and that made me a little sad.
Also, about that one thing? They didn't say it wasn't true, so I'm still assuming it is.
My socks were rocked off at some point during the proceedings.
NOW I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF.
NO MORE ROBOTS, though.
It was a three tissue evening.
There were things I liked.
There were things I did not like.
One of my pet theories was shot to hell and that made me a little sad.
Also, about that one thing? They didn't say it wasn't true, so I'm still assuming it is.
My socks were rocked off at some point during the proceedings.
NOW I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF.
Friday
I am RETROACTIVELY HORRIFIED.
This entry is about spiders. Spiders biting, spiders crawling, spiders in places spiders shouldn't be. I'm telling you this up front because I'd want someone to tell me.
So, last night, I was watching the Colbert Report, as I tend to do. Mr. Colbert did a segment on "When Animals Attack Our Morals." It was kinda funny. The last part was about the brown recluse spider that bit a man and cured his paralysis. The complaint was that this spider was trying to usurp the place of Jesus. There was a picture accompanying the story, of a spider. And ... HOLY SHIT, THAT'S IT! That's the spider!
I'm sure I've mentioned this before. When we moved into this house, there were lots of spiders in it. Mostly in my room, of course, because that's how the universe rolls, apparently. It was very unpleasant. Their visits are much more infrequent now, I see one maybe one or two times a year. Which is still one or two times too damn many.
I've tried to discover what sort of spiders they are for lo these many years. It's been surprisingly difficult. The internet was a constant disappointment. I even went to my local college, all, "Can you direct me to the Entomology Department, please?" And they were all, "wut this is a community college." Then, there I was, watching my comedy program, and there it was.
Of course, since the spider story was about a brown recluse, this caused me to immediately go to my computer for more research because omg omg. (Even though I already knew that the spiders are not brown recluses. I've checked that many many times. I don't even live in their habitat range! Still, though.) And hark!! I FOUND THE ANSWER. I found pictures! (I found that I did not sleep well last night.) I even found one fellow who had the exact same problem I did - he had an abundance of spiders that looked exactly the same, except some were brown and some were pale yellow/tan. He wasn't sure if they were the same species or not.
They are different. They are two species of "sac spiders." The darker spiders are called broad-faced sac spiders, and the lighter ones are yellow sac spiders. If you want a visual, you're going to have to Google that, because I am not having it on my blog. Hilariously, I have always been more afraid of the darker variety, because they look more sinister. MY FEAR WAS SLIGHTLY MISPLACED, APPARENTLY.
All my spider worries were, it seems, founded. They are aggressive. They bite. And the yellow sac spiders have necrotizing venom. It is similar to, but less severe than, a brown recluse's venom. So instead of losing a chunk of flesh, it may or may not cause an ulcerated sore which may or may not take several months to heal. The broad-faced sac spiders like to eat dead things, so their bites often become infected. Both varieties give painful bites that feel not unlike bee stings and which, like bee stings, may or may not cause anaphylaxsis.
Did I mention that I found one of these things under my pillow one morning?
Me = !!!!D:
I'm already never sleeping again. And I would like, if possible, for someone to travel back in time, and kill all the spiders I've already killed, so I never have to think about how close I came to touching one.
DID I MENTION THAT I REALLY REALLY HATE SPIDERS?
So, last night, I was watching the Colbert Report, as I tend to do. Mr. Colbert did a segment on "When Animals Attack Our Morals." It was kinda funny. The last part was about the brown recluse spider that bit a man and cured his paralysis. The complaint was that this spider was trying to usurp the place of Jesus. There was a picture accompanying the story, of a spider. And ... HOLY SHIT, THAT'S IT! That's the spider!
I'm sure I've mentioned this before. When we moved into this house, there were lots of spiders in it. Mostly in my room, of course, because that's how the universe rolls, apparently. It was very unpleasant. Their visits are much more infrequent now, I see one maybe one or two times a year. Which is still one or two times too damn many.
I've tried to discover what sort of spiders they are for lo these many years. It's been surprisingly difficult. The internet was a constant disappointment. I even went to my local college, all, "Can you direct me to the Entomology Department, please?" And they were all, "wut this is a community college." Then, there I was, watching my comedy program, and there it was.
Of course, since the spider story was about a brown recluse, this caused me to immediately go to my computer for more research because omg omg. (Even though I already knew that the spiders are not brown recluses. I've checked that many many times. I don't even live in their habitat range! Still, though.) And hark!! I FOUND THE ANSWER. I found pictures! (I found that I did not sleep well last night.) I even found one fellow who had the exact same problem I did - he had an abundance of spiders that looked exactly the same, except some were brown and some were pale yellow/tan. He wasn't sure if they were the same species or not.
They are different. They are two species of "sac spiders." The darker spiders are called broad-faced sac spiders, and the lighter ones are yellow sac spiders. If you want a visual, you're going to have to Google that, because I am not having it on my blog. Hilariously, I have always been more afraid of the darker variety, because they look more sinister. MY FEAR WAS SLIGHTLY MISPLACED, APPARENTLY.
All my spider worries were, it seems, founded. They are aggressive. They bite. And the yellow sac spiders have necrotizing venom. It is similar to, but less severe than, a brown recluse's venom. So instead of losing a chunk of flesh, it may or may not cause an ulcerated sore which may or may not take several months to heal. The broad-faced sac spiders like to eat dead things, so their bites often become infected. Both varieties give painful bites that feel not unlike bee stings and which, like bee stings, may or may not cause anaphylaxsis.
Did I mention that I found one of these things under my pillow one morning?
Me = !!!!D:
I'm already never sleeping again. And I would like, if possible, for someone to travel back in time, and kill all the spiders I've already killed, so I never have to think about how close I came to touching one.
DID I MENTION THAT I REALLY REALLY HATE SPIDERS?
Thursday
My life: fuck it.
So, I have this external hard drive. And on this I have 90% of all my personal computing business. And no, most of it is not backed up, don't even bother talking about it, now is not the time and I don't want to hear it.
I was playing a video file and it stopped. Not crashed, just started working slowly and poorly. This was my only indication that something was awry. Suddenly my drive is corrupted and unreadable. I turn it off, unplug it, replug it, turn it back on. Windows tells me that the drive needs to be formatted before I can use it. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I am now confused and stressed and fearful and upset over the uncertainty. But then, since this is my DEFAULT STATE these days, I'm not really reacting at all. I refuse to lose my shit until I deem it absolutely necessary. I just need to massage my jaw a little maybe.
I am attempting to recover the data, and I do not know how that will go because I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm not thinking clearly. If you have any helpful advice, please feel free to impart it.
In the meantime: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
ETA - THE ANSWER IS YAY!
I was playing a video file and it stopped. Not crashed, just started working slowly and poorly. This was my only indication that something was awry. Suddenly my drive is corrupted and unreadable. I turn it off, unplug it, replug it, turn it back on. Windows tells me that the drive needs to be formatted before I can use it. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I am now confused and stressed and fearful and upset over the uncertainty. But then, since this is my DEFAULT STATE these days, I'm not really reacting at all. I refuse to lose my shit until I deem it absolutely necessary. I just need to massage my jaw a little maybe.
I am attempting to recover the data, and I do not know how that will go because I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm not thinking clearly. If you have any helpful advice, please feel free to impart it.
In the meantime: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
ETA - THE ANSWER IS YAY!
Monday
In other news.
I was thinking to myself recently, "What's the trashiest show I've ever watched on purpose?" And you know what? I'm pretty sure it's Dollhouse.
Friday
Wednesday
Cat update.
Short story: Yay!
Medium story: We're apparently still in the woods, but we have reason to be optimistic.
Full story: So, on Monday, they did an x-ray and some blood work. The x-ray showed what appeared to be one normal-sized kidney, and one small kidney. The small kidney looked to be about half the size of the normal one. This is not good. Her bloodwork showed that she only had 25% kidney function over all, or, about one-half of one kidney functioning properly. That's not good either. 10% function and under is considered kidney failure. Basically, this didn't bode well for the state of her kidney tissue which, if damaged, was ... well, damaged. In which case we'd be looking at a kidney transplant ... and, we wouldn't be getting a kidney transplant. Basically. That would just ... anyway.
On Tuesday, the news took an upswing. First, she seemed to be responding well to the antibiotics. She wasn't straining to urinate, and her kidneys didn't seem tender. Then they did the ultrasound and discovered two things: 1. Her smaller kidney is much larger than it first appeared. It's slightly smaller than the other one, but not close to the half-size they were expecting. 2. Her kidney tissue looked healthy. It looked like regular, functional kidney tissue instead of damaged, dead kidney tissue. So that's awesome. The vet sounded surprised and happy.
Today (Wednesday), they got the results of her culture, which showed that the antibiotic she's been on is already the best one. So that's good. However, her kidney levels haven't gone up at all. That's not good. However, because her tissue looks good, the vet is "optimistic" that she will get better, she just needs a little more time. I asked him if he'd seen that happen before and he said yes, many times. So, that's good.
She got to come home today, since there's nothing that they were doing for her there that we couldn't theoretically do at home, namely, giving her antibiotics and giving her fluids. This means that twice a day we have to give her oral antibiotics, but that's nothing new. I've medicated many a cat in my day. It also means that we have to give her a subcutaneous drip twice a day, which is really very quite new. I guess we'll see how that goes!
We'll take her back in on Monday to check her blood.
So that's her kidneys. In regards to her heart, she has hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It's genetic. This is the thing you will hear about on the news when an otherwise healthy teenager suddenly drops dead in the middle of a basketball game. Lily has no outwards signs of it, either in her behavior or in heart sounds, so if her innards weren't already being photographed for other purposes, we never would have known about it. You know, until her spontaneous heart death at some point in time. So, that's not good. But now we do know about it, which is good. And we can drug her up for it. That'll have to wait until her kidney issue is resolved though, because (of course!!) the heart medicine may have adverse kidney effects.
Apparently my cat has more medical problems than I do.
Medium story: We're apparently still in the woods, but we have reason to be optimistic.
Full story: So, on Monday, they did an x-ray and some blood work. The x-ray showed what appeared to be one normal-sized kidney, and one small kidney. The small kidney looked to be about half the size of the normal one. This is not good. Her bloodwork showed that she only had 25% kidney function over all, or, about one-half of one kidney functioning properly. That's not good either. 10% function and under is considered kidney failure. Basically, this didn't bode well for the state of her kidney tissue which, if damaged, was ... well, damaged. In which case we'd be looking at a kidney transplant ... and, we wouldn't be getting a kidney transplant. Basically. That would just ... anyway.
On Tuesday, the news took an upswing. First, she seemed to be responding well to the antibiotics. She wasn't straining to urinate, and her kidneys didn't seem tender. Then they did the ultrasound and discovered two things: 1. Her smaller kidney is much larger than it first appeared. It's slightly smaller than the other one, but not close to the half-size they were expecting. 2. Her kidney tissue looked healthy. It looked like regular, functional kidney tissue instead of damaged, dead kidney tissue. So that's awesome. The vet sounded surprised and happy.
Today (Wednesday), they got the results of her culture, which showed that the antibiotic she's been on is already the best one. So that's good. However, her kidney levels haven't gone up at all. That's not good. However, because her tissue looks good, the vet is "optimistic" that she will get better, she just needs a little more time. I asked him if he'd seen that happen before and he said yes, many times. So, that's good.
She got to come home today, since there's nothing that they were doing for her there that we couldn't theoretically do at home, namely, giving her antibiotics and giving her fluids. This means that twice a day we have to give her oral antibiotics, but that's nothing new. I've medicated many a cat in my day. It also means that we have to give her a subcutaneous drip twice a day, which is really very quite new. I guess we'll see how that goes!
We'll take her back in on Monday to check her blood.
So that's her kidneys. In regards to her heart, she has hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It's genetic. This is the thing you will hear about on the news when an otherwise healthy teenager suddenly drops dead in the middle of a basketball game. Lily has no outwards signs of it, either in her behavior or in heart sounds, so if her innards weren't already being photographed for other purposes, we never would have known about it. You know, until her spontaneous heart death at some point in time. So, that's not good. But now we do know about it, which is good. And we can drug her up for it. That'll have to wait until her kidney issue is resolved though, because (of course!!) the heart medicine may have adverse kidney effects.
Apparently my cat has more medical problems than I do.
Distraction.
I'm just now getting around to doing that picture thing that Jess had in her blog roughly eight billion years ago. I meant to do it, but it looked very labor intensive.
Categories:
1. favorite food
2. hometown
3. favorite color
4. celebrity crush
5. favorite drink
6. dream vacation
7. favorite dessert
8. what I want to be when I grow up
9. name
10. what I love most in the world
11. one word that describes me
12. username
Categories:
1. favorite food
2. hometown
3. favorite color
4. celebrity crush
5. favorite drink
6. dream vacation
7. favorite dessert
8. what I want to be when I grow up
9. name
10. what I love most in the world
11. one word that describes me
12. username
Monday
Some sound meant to convey some sort of emotion.
My cat Lily is sick. Kind of very, as it turns out. "... but not hopeless," the vet added. Which does not help at all.
She has an infection in her kidneys. The best guess we have is that bacteria from her mouth (she's had chronic gum infections since we scooped her up as a malnourished kitten) moved around through her bloodstream, and landed there. She also has an enlarged heart, which has nothing to do with that. Just for kicks, I guess.
Right now she's in the kitty hospital, where she will be at least until Wednesday while they give her broad spectrum IV antibiotics. They're doing some cultures to see if a more specific antibiotic should be used. Tomorrow they will ultrasound her kidneys and her heart. All this is just as expensive as it sounds. I hate that this is even a factor, but there you go.
I think I'm burned out on pets. I can't keep on loving them if they're going to keep dying. And, as a certain Fountain of Gold noted, cats die. They don't even live very long.
Not that anything is certain right now. I mean, she could be fine. It's possible. I'm just very freaked out because I thought I would have years until I had to think about this. At least it's not cancer this time.
P.S. Please feel free to continue to give me hair advice.
She has an infection in her kidneys. The best guess we have is that bacteria from her mouth (she's had chronic gum infections since we scooped her up as a malnourished kitten) moved around through her bloodstream, and landed there. She also has an enlarged heart, which has nothing to do with that. Just for kicks, I guess.
Right now she's in the kitty hospital, where she will be at least until Wednesday while they give her broad spectrum IV antibiotics. They're doing some cultures to see if a more specific antibiotic should be used. Tomorrow they will ultrasound her kidneys and her heart. All this is just as expensive as it sounds. I hate that this is even a factor, but there you go.
I think I'm burned out on pets. I can't keep on loving them if they're going to keep dying. And, as a certain Fountain of Gold noted, cats die. They don't even live very long.
Not that anything is certain right now. I mean, she could be fine. It's possible. I'm just very freaked out because I thought I would have years until I had to think about this. At least it's not cancer this time.
P.S. Please feel free to continue to give me hair advice.
Saturday
The white stripe.
As I may have mentioned once or several times, my hair has a fair amount of gray in it. My first gray hair was discovered by my friend Jennifer as she was sitting behind me in English class. It was the length of a normal hair. I was 16. When I was 19 I realized that there were, you know, quite a few, so maybe I should do something about it. I plucked the ones I could find. I cut that out a few years ago as it might have made me bald.
Happily, the majority of it is in the front, and I've developed a sort of stripe on one side. I say happily because while I imagine this would freak out some people, I think it's neat. I look like Rogue. Or sometimes you can't really see it and I just look like a person with hair.
My sister has been taken many opportunities to tell me that I need to get it "covered up". I hate that. Aside from the fact that I have never dyed my hair (at least with anything other than lemon juice and sunlight), I don't want to start because I have to "cover up the gray." I mean, what am I, old? Actually having gray hair doesn't make me feel old. Probably because it doesn't make me look old, which I understand is the chief problem with it, societally. It just makes me look like what I am: a young person with gray hair. Having to run to the hairdresser's because my roots are showing, though, would depress the hell out of me.
A few times I've wondered about dying it hot pink or something equally bold. Because if I'm going to dye my hair, I want it to be clear that it was because I wanted to, not because I had to. I never followed through on it because: 1. I tied up with the logistics, even though I could probably just ask Annika, and 2. I'm worried that the establishment might freak. (I KNOW! Shit, maybe I am old.)
I mention this because GUESS WHAT. I'm getting my hair done next week! At a very skilled and expensive place! FOR FREE! And whilst there, I am totally going to get my hair colored. I'm so completely nervous*. What should I have them do? I don't want them to ruin my youthful gray.
*I'm more worried about this than the fact that I'm getting approximately 16 inches of my hair cut off, just to put this in perspective.
Happily, the majority of it is in the front, and I've developed a sort of stripe on one side. I say happily because while I imagine this would freak out some people, I think it's neat. I look like Rogue. Or sometimes you can't really see it and I just look like a person with hair.
My sister has been taken many opportunities to tell me that I need to get it "covered up". I hate that. Aside from the fact that I have never dyed my hair (at least with anything other than lemon juice and sunlight), I don't want to start because I have to "cover up the gray." I mean, what am I, old? Actually having gray hair doesn't make me feel old. Probably because it doesn't make me look old, which I understand is the chief problem with it, societally. It just makes me look like what I am: a young person with gray hair. Having to run to the hairdresser's because my roots are showing, though, would depress the hell out of me.
A few times I've wondered about dying it hot pink or something equally bold. Because if I'm going to dye my hair, I want it to be clear that it was because I wanted to, not because I had to. I never followed through on it because: 1. I tied up with the logistics, even though I could probably just ask Annika, and 2. I'm worried that the establishment might freak. (I KNOW! Shit, maybe I am old.)
I mention this because GUESS WHAT. I'm getting my hair done next week! At a very skilled and expensive place! FOR FREE! And whilst there, I am totally going to get my hair colored. I'm so completely nervous*. What should I have them do? I don't want them to ruin my youthful gray.
*I'm more worried about this than the fact that I'm getting approximately 16 inches of my hair cut off, just to put this in perspective.
Sunday
Local girl survives weekend in freezing woods; subsisted on cookies, she says.
There is an article about Neko Case in this week's edition of the New York Times Magazine. MY SPHERES ARE INTERSECTING AND I DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. And unlike in most instances where I say that and I really mean, "My feelings about this matter lean towards the negative," this time I really don't know! I mean, on one hand there's yay, but on the other hand there's a lot of ???.
In other news, I sprained my ankle and it's still impressively swollen and there's some bruising. But I can walk okay. Also, I discovered that 280 East has a lot of things in common with Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.
But aside from that, I had a nice weekend. And there were cookies!
In other news, I sprained my ankle and it's still impressively swollen and there's some bruising. But I can walk okay. Also, I discovered that 280 East has a lot of things in common with Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.
But aside from that, I had a nice weekend. And there were cookies!
Saturday
I did this same thing last week!
[Begin Spoiler for Battlestar Galactica. The one that was just on. — Highlight to view]
Goodbye, Felix. You were too good for a hardscrabble life of fleeing from killer space robots. I'll miss you.
[End Spoiler]
Goodbye, Felix. You were too good for a hardscrabble life of fleeing from killer space robots. I'll miss you.
[End Spoiler]
Monday
Tuesday
*waves tiny flag*
In other news, I've been ridiculously ill for the past four days or so. I think. I can't remember. One thing I did learn is that if you try to drink water while your nasal breathing is completely impaired, you will think you're drowning.
The more you know!
The more you know!
Saturday
CHANGE is coming you guys!
I've been hearing about it for so long, and the the wait is almost over and I can't wait. The time is almost upon us!
The time I'm talking about, of course, is February 18, the day when we can finally stop hearing about the digital television transition. I mean: JESUS TAP-DANCING CHRIST. I don't even watch very much television, yet if I happen to even be passing by one, there's a statistical likelihood that there's a digital transition commercial on it.
I'M READY TO STOP HEARING ABOUT THIS ALREADY.
The time I'm talking about, of course, is February 18, the day when we can finally stop hearing about the digital television transition. I mean: JESUS TAP-DANCING CHRIST. I don't even watch very much television, yet if I happen to even be passing by one, there's a statistical likelihood that there's a digital transition commercial on it.
I'M READY TO STOP HEARING ABOUT THIS ALREADY.
Thursday
It's cold outside.
I accidentally traveled to outer space last night. It seems I like this framing technique. I wonder if there's a name for it.
Friday
Incidentally.
I know that you all probably know by now that when I talk about Twilight, I'm not even kidding in the slightest bit.
But, seriously you guys. You guys? Seriously. I'm not even kidding in the slightest bit.
But, seriously you guys. You guys? Seriously. I'm not even kidding in the slightest bit.
Wednesday
For Katy, or, I am lazy.
A while back Katy said that she would like to make a compilation of all the Gold that the Fountain Thereof has spouted. And I thought to myself, "I could totally do that. And then share such an endeavor to anyone it might interest!"
And then I didn't because I'm lazy. And also because he was giving an awful lot of interviews around November, and I was OD'ing on Twilight and needed to detox for a while.
Anyway, turns out that one of the lovely ladies at [name of Twilight lulz livejournal community] made some video highlights of the FoG. It's not quite what I was going for, I'll admit. That these are his "best" clips are debatable. It lacks the quotes that were only ever in print. Plus a lot of them are lifted out of context, making them only really funny if you've seen them before. But, on the other hand, I have seen them before, so it's all good for me, and this whole thing required nothing more on my part than writing the rest of this entry. Yay laziness!
Also, I made them purple.
And then I didn't because I'm lazy. And also because he was giving an awful lot of interviews around November, and I was OD'ing on Twilight and needed to detox for a while.
Anyway, turns out that one of the lovely ladies at [name of Twilight lulz livejournal community] made some video highlights of the FoG. It's not quite what I was going for, I'll admit. That these are his "best" clips are debatable. It lacks the quotes that were only ever in print. Plus a lot of them are lifted out of context, making them only really funny if you've seen them before. But, on the other hand, I have seen them before, so it's all good for me, and this whole thing required nothing more on my part than writing the rest of this entry. Yay laziness!
Also, I made them purple.
Friday
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