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.
Monday
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!
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