You are in an uncanny valley of twisty little passages, all alike, and getting very annoyed at your alleged fellow humans.

This weekend was, well, busy.  

I did not manage to catch any of the cats; they just run too fast, and they will not come close to me.  However, I am leaving Iams Kitten food for them every day, so at least they are not hungry, and I am still calling and emailing around to see if anyone can help me catch them.  

Which makes me wonder…where are all the fucking bunny-huggers when you need them?  I am so very not donating to any of these animal agencies anymore if I cannot rustle up some help here.  This is beginning to piss me off.  I get all kinds of crap from animal groups, always asking for money, and I usually give at least a little something; in addition, every time I have had a pet pass away, I have made a donation in that pet’s name.  And they keep sending me crap.  I have umbrellas, coffee mugs, letter openers, mouse pads…I could go on.  Save *my* money, stop sending me this shit, and come out and help me catch four damn cats that I’m not asking you to take care of, anyway!  *I* am going to get them spayed or neutered, *I* am going to get them placed; but *I* am only *one* person, and when these kitties are hiding in the shrubbery around my building, it is *impossible* to anticipate where they’ll dart to next when I try to catch them!  I need MANPOWER—not coffee cups, you bleeding-heart buttmunches!  Surely some of the groups I have contacted have a handful of seal-hunter hating, Birkenstock-wearing, no-meat-eating do-goodniks that would be willing to spend an afternoon failing college by helping me grab helpless kittens instead of hanging out at Coffee-Cool-O-Rama doing nothing but reading each other’s bad poetry about how Modern Man tramples Nature whilst wearing golfing cleats dripping with Orca blood, or whatever.  BWAAH!

Not that I am bitter, becoming disillusioned, or feeling frustrated in my efforts, or anything.  Let us move on.  I will keep working on the kittens-thing.

And what triply sucks is that I had wanted to talk about a whole lot of other things, but I have run out of time.  A lot else has gone on, but I am cat-obsessed.  And I should get some sleep.  I think that, even though I still feel for the kittens, this time is different from last time because these three are older than Squoosh and Crew, whatever bad that was going to happen has already happened to the others (and I try to not think about that, so that I don’t become overwhelmed with guilt), and this litter is in a safer place (in the bushes/courtyard area surrounding our flag.  Squoosh’s litter was practically in the parking lot.  And I was literally *obsessed* with them.  It was *bad*.  At least I don’t have to go through that this time; even if I’m not wholly certain of why it is different, it is, and it’s less painful for me.  I am no less motivated, it is just less stressful internally.  

Speaking of internal stress, one of the people that I used to think had some redeeming qualities (but was sadly mistaken…yes, I am talking about RCG) called me over the weekend to (in a nutshell) enlist my help in cutting corners on something he has to produce.  I shan’t bore with details, but what he’s trying to do—just like Sophie—is called “cargo cult science”, and Feynman had a few choice words to say about it.  And I wholly agree with those words.  Not that I expect Doofus (or Sophie) to have ever consulted any authority on research design, or ethics in particular.  I have grown.  Man, have I grown.  Five years ago, I would have been all like, “Oh, let me help you cover up your incompetence by staying up all night and doing it all myself and giving it to you to claim as your own work!  No, really—I insist!  It’s the least I can do!”  Thank god that period of my life is over, ‘cos I can surround myself with losers faster than you can snap your fingers.  Plus, it’s doubly good that co-dependent part of my life is over, ‘cos it’s way more goth to just smirk and say “drown; I’d find it entertaining”.  I could never get that saying “drown” part right…  ;-)  

But whatever.  Of course, I told him to go jump in a lake.  My name is already on something with Sophie from early last year, and I regret it.  I may not even put it on my CV; I’m still deciding.  It *sounds* good, and Sophie didn’t really participate, I did (it was given to her as a kind of sign-on prezzie), but I am concerned for what Sophie is going to produce going forward; I may not want to be affiliated in any way with crap she churns out ten years from now.  I could reel off a list of sins, but…just trust me; it’s bad.  Cargo cult.  Completely.  

But what’s even funnier is that this was something Doofus was trying to throw together at the eleventh hour.  I guess that is why he tried to enlist my help—he came to a point where he was lost, attempted to cogitate on it for thirty seconds, then threw in the towel and called me to do it…errr…for help.  What crap.  Ummm, no.

And I went ahead and took the week of Thanksgiving mostly off (well, off from Eviljob) so that I could spend time with Mom.  Well, that, and have the Most Shoppingest Day of the Year off again.  Somehow this escalated into Meg wanting all of us to go to a tournament at the Borgata (I think it was the Borgata), and I was sweating trying to work that entire thing out, and finally she decided it was not a good idea.  Thank god.  I am just not up for anything like that right now.  I need rest.  

I will spend tomorrow finishing something that in theory is supposed to be A Big Deal tomorrow, and I will write more.  I need to vent about a lot of things.  Especially an online test that I took for fun.  Sigh.  :-)  And the fact that my gyn keeps having to cancel my appointments, and every time I reschedule, it gets earlier and earlier in the morning.  Augh.  


And if I offended any bunny-huggers, I apologise.  But please—speak to your kinsmen and get them to return my calls.  Pleez?  For the kitties?