Five tons of flax…and a couple troll pencil toppers

Fudashi.  No, rilly.  Totally Fu it.  I’m gonna go be a fucking shepherd.

I cannot believe that I am done.  Oh, lord.  And I am having a KateFest.  KateFests rock.  I love you, Kate…errr…Hazel.  Whatever.  I am so pouncingly full of…energy or something.  Spare time, maybe.  Or sleep.  I actually went out Friday night (despite rumours that I’ll stay cloistered until graduation) and was gone all today, but…eh.  I’m still all wired, so I went looking for something novel to watch and ended up breaking out my Breaking Glass dvd, and it is amazing what an unsung masterpiece the whole thing is.  Well, okay…not unsung really.  Well…it has been hummed a bit.  There.

Butsoanyway.

On Wednesday, here’s what happened:

Ok…wait.  Let’s back up to Tuesday.  Or before that, really.  Firstliest, this Someone whom I’ve mentioned before got gainful employment for all of us; this is the class that was all seminar and endless teleconferences.  Yeah…Someone rocks like that.  Only the catch was that we don’t get paid for it; it’s ‘sperience.  And on the whole, I am okay with that, even though my Person thinks that it is a deplorable practice, and Fluffer (who took this class also) vehemently denies that it is occurring because, well…Fluffer is trying to suck up to Someone.  Big Time.  But that’s a whole ‘nother story; let me get on with this one.  

So we had stuff assigned, and a large thing at the end; our group raced to get everything done, and generally made it.  Then Orker plagiarised, and his further services were Deemed Unnecessary.  Then we all got our final assignment-things, and set off to work on them; these final things were somewhat tailored to each group’s experiences, if not expertise.  Our group got something for a company that does something that I know a fair amount about, so we voted me to be in charge of coming up with Things.  As a parallel, let’s say that the Gimli Glider Company wants to start intercontinental air travel; I personally know nothing about intercontinental air travel, and I don’t have the time to go learn about intercontinental air travel, but I know a goodly amount about Gimli Gliders. So, while Rest of Group (RoG) is putting together everything else, I slap together a little training exercise in how to properly measure fuel along with a tiny change in instrumentation (let’s say an analogue fuel gauge), show some people, get their opinions, and do my part.  We sent it off to Someone last Friday for pre-approval because, after all, this is a deliverable, and we have to present it via teleconference on Wednesday.

On Tuesday at 4 p.m., I get a call as I am trying to get something accomplished for MMM for once; Someone wants my part changed.  Training in any form isn’t really a revolutionary idea, suggests Someone; we need to contribute a solution that incorporates an actual design prototype.  First off, I reply, training apparently is a revolutionary idea for some companies, and the Gimli Glider Company is kind of a case in point in that respect.  Second, I am not a fucking designer.  Third, it’s less than twenty-four hours until we have to do this thing…there is no time to change anything.  And fourthly, I just checked again and I am still not a designer.  Then Someone suggested a design solution, and I told Someone the idea sucked; it was wholly unrealistic based upon my personal experience in the industry, not even bringing up the issue of common sense.  

Our conversation went something like this:

For the Gimli Glider presentation, we want to propose that it should have six wings!
Ummm...that's pretty close to the god-damned stupidest idea I have ever heard.
Well, I know a little bit about Gimli Gliders, and...
I know more. 
Test it.
No.
I'm not kidding.
I will consult my subject matter expert, how's that?
That's bett...
Please hold.

('Codia la-la's The Girl From Ipanema)

Thank you for holding.  My SME says that that's pretty close to the god-damned stupidest idea I...errr...SHE has ever heard.
It gets included, and it gets included as the primary design proposal!
Please hold.

('Codia la-la's more Girl From Ipanema)

My SME says that it's still really stupid.
INCLUDE IT!
Fine.  But there's not going to be any testing; it's too late, and I have scads of other things to do.
You need to present something with testing!
Then I need to present something that has been tested.  There are two other major ideas here which we *have* tested, and you're saying to scrap them over something you just thought up.  There's not going to be a compromise here; I cannot spend the entirety of my time on this.  There's a line to be drawn somewhere, and I have just drawn it.  There is less than 24 hours left; major changes could have been made before--not now. 
(Someone is quiet)
Yes?
That change is to be presented.  Did you hear me?
Absolutely.  And in that case, it will be presented as a rough idea with no testing, which is what it is.  Or you can present it.
(icily) Fine.  It's your presentation.  Do what you want.
We will.  Thank you.

And as I sat there, I got more irritated.  If you really want to make me mad as hell, let me submit something to you—then don’t read it.  Let me think that everything is fine up until the eleventh hour, and then get around to skimming over it, and phone me in hysterics because you don’t like what I have done (bonus points for not even understanding what I have written), and issue the ultimatum that EVERYTHING must be changed—kind of similar to what My Person pulled last year with my Magnificent Octopus.  Do that, and you will have succeeded in *REALLY* pissing me off.  Congratulations; that’s actually hard to do.  

So I did what any irritated hormonal bitch would do, and I phoned and emailed the rest of my group and told them that Someone had made changes.  Then I trashed my contribution and put in Someone’s stupidass idea, sent it off, and went back to work on MMM’s stuff.  I am not saying that my ideas were earth-shaking, but they were at least *realistic*.  

The next morning—the morning of this teleconference/presentation—Someone emails our group to tell us to include our testing information…why is there no testing information?!?

Uhhh…duh.  We’ve had this conversation; you were wrong, but you pulled rank, and I conceded.  In my own way.

By this point, the rest of our group was over it, and Orker didn’t get a vote; this has been nothing but work all semester, and if Someone wanted to be a shit, then Someone should have made this one presentation weighted more heavily in our grades.  On Tuesday, the unanimous vote in our group was ‘fine, but you’re presenting it’.  Fine; I have presented total shit before, and this probably won’t be the last time.  So I presented; it could have sucked worse, but it wasn’t what They wanted or expected and I knew that going in, but Someone was *pissed*.  But by that point, none of us really cared.  But Someone got all huffy, and I was triply irritated enough that I needed to vent to somebody, so I got a coffee and wandered over to my Person.  

My Person was actually pretty cool about it—agreed with me, made it clear that the ‘problem’ wasn’t me, the whole nine yards; I already wrote about that.  My Person said that my grade wouldn’t suffer (which, after witnessing the tantrum, I was doubting), because Person’d seen similar things happen before where Someone lost their crackers and ‘made up for it’ (read:  bought silence) by giving high grades.  So then on Thursday, our team got an email from Someone, giving us almost full credit on our presentation.  Go figure.  

I have not done a whole lot today, and I do not plan on doing a whole lot today.  My Squoosh has noticed that I am not so busy, and he’s being a little purring monkey, trying to get some attention.  :-)  Of course, I am giving it to him; if he spoke English, you would be able to hear him shouting, ‘Look at me!  Look at me!’ as he pulls his little monkey-stunts…he’s such an attention pig.  

One thing I am going to do is wander over to Eviljob and feed Mehitabel & Co.; I may try to grab a kitten or two…we’ll see.  She’s certainly keeping them (and herself) hidden when I am around and as someone pointed out, it’s because in her mind I am this enormous velociraptor that probably eats babies.  

-=Meanwhile, back in India=-

Okay, so it’s later.  I am freshly back from trying to snag a Mehitabel.  The good news is that I netted her.  The bad news is that she fricking escaped!  She broke a hole right through the net!!!!!  

See ‘Codia lose.  Lose, ‘Codia, lose!  ‘Lose, lose!’ said Baby Judy, ‘Lose, lose, lose!’

Butsoanyway.

In really good news, I saw Mr Cat—the SquooshDaddy.  :-)  So he didn’t get hit.  I was so happy to see him that I gave him tuna.  

And, on that note…  I’m ending it.  

.

Meg Invades Vegas

Multimedia message
Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

...film at 11

and some pickles...pickles...and pickles...and...I want to rub sweet-n-sour sauce all over my...

I have been listening to khaha for probably close to two days straight. It's pretty cool; they played Dane Cook's bit about the BK drive-through a couple hours back, and as punch-drunk as I am, I was in *hysterics*; I love that one.

The good news is that I am almost done.

Someone please invent papers that write themselves. Better living through technology, and all that.

Rah, rah lizardshit.

.

Annnnnndddd...ka-BOOP!

DDR TC
Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

Fack! This has been the WORST...DAY...EVER! For reasons I cannot go into here, our Someone (not my Person, but the Someone who is Prof of one of my classes) went psycho today. I mean like seriously mental. We're talking Bitch Need Straitjacket City (I just *love* Goldie!). I will try to think of a parallel or something. It was *so* nuts that I went to talk to my Person about it, not that I expected any help or anything, but...my Person agreed with me! Go figure. THEN, I just got home and got a peculiar email from Bitch-Need-Straitjacket that tries to sound like everything is just hunky-dory. Now this is fucked up. Just trust me--it's fucked up. Even my Person agrees, and we rarely agree on *anything*. Which, as a side note, certainly keeps my Person's life interesting. :-) Person and I are two very different people, but at least she knows that if there's psychoness afoot, it's not from Camp Ancodia, and Person did say exactly that straight-off, which actually made me feel pretty good for once. Thanks for noticing, Person. I actually *do* appreciate that. Person even said that--almost verbatim--she knows that if things are falling apart I keep my head; if it's my fault, I am the first one to admit it, and if it's not my fault, I'm the first one yelling at everyone to stop pointing fingers and help me FIX it. I actually really really appreciate that sentiment, and hereby retract anything nasty I may have thought or said about Person in the past week.

Ok, ok...past month. But that's it.

And because of the uproar of the past few days, I had to ask MMM for an extension. I went to ask in person because I'd asked earlier in the semester for one (for something else) by email, and after a certain point, I feel that using email (and voice mail, etc...) is just cowardly; it's not my style. So I told MMM 40% of what had gone on (more than that would not have been appropriate), swore to him that this was not an issue of poor planning, priorities, neglecting him...whatever. Which it hasn't been. And I expected him to say ohellno, but he didn't; he granted the extension. Holy crap.

Which means that I need to get back to his stuff and quit this, but...I needed to boop a little.

I also stopped by and fed Mehitabel on the way home; I waited and saw her go back to her kittens, so now I know where they are for sure. Yay.

Okay; back to MMM's stuff. It's utterly amazing how some people are normal, while others are just simply totally nuts. And then there's my Person, who vascillates.

Ok, ok; I retract that in honour of Person's support today, one time when it actually did matter.

Boop.

The pre-boop booping

G9AED
Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

omg...make it stop...make the bad people go away!

BWAAH!


.

Well, I lay my head on the railroad track, waitin' on the Double-E...

Well.  I am (still) typing and talking to ‘Pants.  She needed help with maff-stuffs, so of course she phoned me, maffs-goddess that I am.  

No, really.  Even though I am a girl, with boobs and stuff, I know a few things.

Butsoanyway.

I need to name ‘Pants something else.  We’ve actually become…friends, I guess.  In a weird way; once she moved on to Greener Pastures U, it seems that I am the only one of our group she’s kept in touch with, and she phones/emails/IMs enough for non-necessary communications that I am interpreting that as friendship, and I found out the socially-uncomfortable way (oops) that the last several times she’s swung back into town that I was the only one she phoned or met with from our little pack.  So let’s call her Karen.  I think what’s happened is that it finally sunk in with her that I am not playing games, with her, or anyone else.  I get the feeling ‘Pants…errr…Karen is expecting people to be less as-advertised.  Or something.  Perhaps that is why she can be so terribly rude.  Well, combined with the frustration I *know* she was feeling; I know that she felt it because I feel it, too.  It’s why she left.

This brings me to my issues of enormous jealousy, envy, and all that, which are emotions I really hate seeing in myself, but I am honest, so I am ‘fessing up to them; Karen’s really found her niche elsewhere.  I would like to believe that if I were to uproot and leave I would be equally well-received, appreciated, compensated…all of that, but the fact is that I don’t know.  She has her OWN OFFICE.  HERS.  She technically has two of them, but the second one she shares with another person and is on the other side of campus, ‘cos Karen has a joint-appointment-type thing, but all this is immaterial.  She has an office.  It has a door and everything.  And her impresario-type person (let’s just call them Persons) praises her, is not psychotic, and is all supportive, where mine…has not behaved similarly in the past.  Let’s just leave it there.  

I not only do not have *my* own office, but we are changing buildings soon, and in the new building, I will *continue* to not have my own office.  Grr.  And Karen’s Person accompanies her to conferences, introduces her around, and all that.  My Person not only has always made me go to every one by myself so far (as well as the prepping which even with my huge background in presenting, had me in *tears* the first time), but the one we have coming up that my Person will for sure be at (‘cos Person wants to vacation with friends nearby before/during/after), I already know what is going to happen, because it happened to Karen a couple years ago:  I will show up dutifully every fricking day at seven a.m., conference bag over my shoulder, pen and pad in one hot little hand and a cup of coffee in the other hot little hand, ready to go keep up in my field and become enlightened, and Person will be nowhere to be found.  Especially if it is before about 2-3 pm; my Person doesn’t ‘do’ mornings.  

Now, in fairness, because I was so thoroughly drowning this semester, my Person did cannibalise some things I’d written previously and revamp it into a 2k word thingy for one submission recently so that I didn’t have to.  My Person doesn’t *totally* suck.  I just wish I were being more…I don’t know; mentored, directed…whatever.  I kvetched about this endlessly last year with Octopus.  I need to shut up and sit down, or get the fuck out at this point.  Whining is useless.  Well, except for the funness of it.

Butsoanyway.

Ok, in fairness also, my Person is supposed to completely make me quit Eviljob, too.  Or something.  I am not supposed to be employed outside of school/program.  But Karen’s got a portable second profession (think like a freelance nail tech that makes house-calls), and she hasn’t mentioned that to her Person, either.  And I know a bunch of other people who are doing it, too; we’d all be farking destitute without it for the most part, until we get employed for real (which happens later), and I am just fortunate enough that I am making WAY more than the others who are doing it, like by several standard deviations.  So it’s like, no harm, no foul; the only thing I (and Karen, Scooter, Doogie, and others) am depriving myself of is free time and sleep, so…whatever.  But on the other hand, Karen’s Person is making sure Karen’s better taken care of financially than my Person does—for either me or Karen when she was here.  That is just what I am so…whatever about.  

I could go on about it, but I am off the phone and need to get back to work; I have about 48 hours to fix everything in the world.  Pfft.  

As usual.

I am feeling that same old ‘I’m never going to make it, I am so screwed’ feeling, and it really sucks.  And I am sure no one wants to hear it.  I stopped to see MMM today to see if possibly a brick had fallen on his head and he’d decided to grant some amnesty, but…no luck.  He is, besides looking pretty damn cute today (I don’t need my head examined; I think it’s just stress…no, rilly), Evil and Demanding.  :-)  But then again, so am I, I guess.  In other people’s eyes, I mean.  I hope MMM never wears that shirt again (today was a casual day, I gathered); it just makes him look too damn cute.  

Okay… back to work.  

.

Yay, Canada!

Canada

Oh, what a charming (and lucky!) young man! :-)

Bank Bastiges.

Wow…nice of my bank to warn me. Nurse Betty sent this to me; *this* is why I had to get a new check card. I am SO pissed off; this means that I will have to find out when it happened, and go through my account transactions from that point. And I will be responsible for $500 of it over my stone cold dead body! As if I have time to go through all that. Damn it. I need to go back there and scream at Mr Mikey. They should have warned me, not fricking ABC News. And I think that I am going to tell them just that.

In Kitty News, Mehitabel is hiding from me. I know that she thinks that I am going to steal her babies (which I am), but…it’s kind of cute. As someone pointed out, in her eyes, I am this horrible velociraptor who keeps stealing her Perfectly Good Babies. Damn me. :-) But I left another huge bunch of food out for her, since I probably won’t make it by Sunday.

And for what it's worth, Georgie Porgie can be evicted from one's brain by a really fierce application of Space Tribe. Now *that* is information that belongs in a survival manual.

I am still drowning, and had really better get back to work.

.

Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

Mr Romeo, going home from the vet a week or so ago. Love you, grumpy Measle!

Never ever should have told you you're my only girl...BWAAH!

Ohmigod…so cool!

I am typing my fuzzy butt off, but I took a break and found this:

Dead Malls Wiki

Fricking awesome.  My Wonderland and Universal Malls are mentioned, though not my Somerset Collection; it’s still very living, and I hear Twelve Oaks is building out.  Yay.  We need more large malls.  Though I guess that if I am calling them *mine*, the Lakeside Mall is more mine, ‘cos I lived there the sort-of longest.  Not *at* the mall.  

I am homesick today; does it show?

Mummers was mugged at Universal Mall ages ago.  What that has to do with anything, I don’t know.  Except maybe that I was with her and it was scary, and the guy took her purse, which contained…

::drum roll::

…a very nice key envelope.  The one I always remember her as having carried.  See how things all come full-circle?  It’s amazing, rilly.  Let’s sing Circle of Life, ok?

:-D

Speaking of singing, I have had Toto’s Georgie Porgie stuck in my head all damn day; it was playing when I stopped to pick up coffee, and it just…won’t…LEAVE MY HEAD…auuuggghhh!  

And speaking of leaving, Meg leaves next Thursday again, and I can’t go with.  She’s going to Vegas.  Pfft.  Grumble.  But seriously, I hope that she has fun.  She went with me yesterday after work to get money out of the bank so that we could have an early dinner together, and I wouldn’t have to pay interest on it (my bank had some breach of security or something, and cancelled check cards for a bunch of people, though oddly, Meg’s wasn’t touched), ‘cos the bank did send a letter telling me in advance, but my planning is shot to hell, so I didn’t pull any money out—so while I wait for the new card to be sent, I have no money.  I could write checks…if I had any.  I ran out months ago, never got around to putting more in my check book, and now cannot find my box of checks for that account.  My other account at the credit union I have checks and stuff for, but that’s my secret checking/savings account (shhh!), and I only deposit; I have a firm rule about never withdrawing.  Plus, if I used that check card, Meg’d notice; it looks *completely* different from my normal check card.

And what’s funny is that, other than me, anyone reading this now knows more about me than even my family does, at least in a banking sense.  

Butsoanyway.

Meg and Mike the Banking Guy (are they called ‘tellers’ still if they sit at the desks inside?) made fun of me the whole time as he made a temporary ATM card for me.  Well, when Mike wasn’t trying to sell me more banking services.  :-)  I liked Mike; he told Meg she can’t see my account screen (nosy!), and he determined after looking at my account that I am single-handedly responsible for the U.S. economy not falling into recession.  

So you’re welcome; I am doing my best.  

I declined his offer of investment assistance (Cleve handles that for me), a different type of savings account (my ‘real’ savings account is at the credit union, and this bank’s savings account is my ‘fake’ one so that I can list it on paper if need be and get a better deal on my checking account, not that I would tell Mike that, especially with Meg there, but I’m not keeping my savings there for real), and other things.  Both of them just made fun of my spending the whole time; I told them that I was taking Rush Limbaugh’s advice and refusing to participate in the so-called recession because I am not a prophet of doom like some Megs I could mention, to which Meg pointed out that I am not a conservative.  Mike said that shows, and I explained to them that no one is wrong all the time; the not participating in a recession thing is a meritorious idea, to which Mike started laughing and asked, ‘Are you single?  Would you control your spending and marry me?’  Meg snorted and said that if that was the deal, I was going to die unwed.  :-)  

I can *feel* the love, I tell you.  

I have to get back to this thingy.  I am trying to finish multiple projects for class, and ignoring Eviljob stuff, because this other crap *must* get done.  I left a HUMONGOUS pile of food for Mehitabel yesterday ‘cos I knew I wouldn’t make it today.  I do not know what I am going to do on my first day free when this is all over (I have next Friday off, though technically Monday after next is my first actual day off), but I am going to do *something*.  This is just too much.  Augh.  One of the things I am doing is to get credentialing to do something specific that I had planned to do as a side job later on (it is kind of like evaluating things for their user-friendliness, which some people in my field moonlight doing ‘cos there’s good money in it) and, well, frankly, after this whole fiasco, it is decidedly less appealing.  After the break I may be all fired-up about it again; we’ll see.  This certification series is certainly interesting, but it is an astronomical amount of work, and it is *actual* work—for example, instead of sitting around talking about how to correctly re-organise a hospital’s records, or having some silly computer modelling of how to re-organise some fictitious hospital’s records, our Prof has actually gotten contracts with an actual hospital to actually re-organise their actual records (the hospital records is an example, but you get the idea).  Stressful.  Busy.  But kinda interesting.  But the up-side of it is that if I do finish the certification, our school well-respected for this area of concentration (because we have so much real experience when we’re done, bwaah!), and enough of the work is consultation/temporary work that I could pick things up casually when I wanted—in other words, I would be well-accredited, and could still do what I want as a job primarily and do a few consultation-things a year for extra money to keep the economy out of recession, and everyone rolling in Squoosh Chow.  Plus I could teach it.

And another good point is that this prof really seems to like our group (maybe Orker a little less, though), and that’s even with the stunt Orker pulled.  So that is really, *really* good; I may need letters of rec or something later.  

And in (re-) doing some of Orker’s evaluations (which, of course, I declined to do in the first place because I do not have a blog, and he does…I know; I lied…and which, of course, he probably didn’t do himself, or fully—or at least, I don’t trust that he did them as he should), I made the Ginormous Muffin of Testingness (below), and I made this, though I think that I am going to stick with what I am currently using.  Though, I *do* like their little scootchy-panel thingy; when I get time, I may add that to my blog.  What’s funny, though—Squoosh received two comments almost immediately; he’s such a cutie-pie.  And no, I amn’t fucking off…that was actually part of an evaluation, but since I uploaded pics of Romeo and Squoosh (the one of Squoosh I have posted here already), I thought I would share.  It’s a long story.  And I may get some Romeo, Squoosh, and Weebie paraphernalia at Shutterfly.  

Ok…back to work.  Pfft.  This is kinda fun; I should have taken this part myself; it would have given me an excuse to post all my Reno photos which I haven’t done yet.  Only, if I had I would have had to scuffle with Orker ‘cos he said he already used all the sites we had to evaluate, and I would probably have started another blog and not used personal photos just to be safe.  Usually when I am working on a team I let them take what they want; it should all ultimately work out to be the same amount of work, and what does it really matter, anyway?

Ok…I have been randomly pecking at this post off and on for a few hours now, and I think it’s time to slap it on the tush and send it off into the world.  

.

Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

testing again!

The ginormous muffin of testingness!

The ginormous muffin of testingness!, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

I am testing the MMS feature of Flickr. Don't be afraid; the muffin was subdued and eaten.

Stalked!

Mehitabel saw me come back from lunch-- she was eating food I'd left,
and when she saw me, she *followed* me as I walked to the front door,
and dove into the bushes...where I'm thinking she's moved the babies
to. You have to watch me... I am a baby thief, you know. I really
like that little cat.

This is what you want. This is what you get.

LydonTC, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

My brain hurts.

Ow.

And yet more boop.

TC-BATC, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

Holy christ. I have sat through three presentations of Nebulous Wandering Crap, one Really, Really Good one, and one Transcends Superior one. And we're not through...oh, no. There's still next week. Oh, yay. Now I am in my other class, and hopefully there's a break on the horizon, 'cos I'm getting cross-eyed. It's one of those conversations where it just sounds as if everyone is repeating themselves over and over...I believe with all my heart that there's some nuance of difference occurring each time they speak that I am just missing because I am over-tired, but...I don't know what that nuance would be.

Boop.

Fudashi

zptc, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

I'm getting an early start on today, as it is gearing up to be a banner day for Crap. If I can make it (successfully) through this and next week, lord knows I can make it through anything. Well, sort-of.

Bwaah.

Look deep into my test card...you are getting miscalibrated...veeerrryyy miscalibrated...you want to type things for me...and present them...and take exams for me...and let me go have a coffee and go shopping...afterwards, you want to catch Mehitabel...

Did it work?

Damn.

Ok...back to work. No rest for the 70% good. Pfft.

Whoa. This isn't fun. It's dirty. It's messy. It hurts.

Well put, Mr Payette; that just about sums up my day. I love the Twisted History thingy.

In case anyone is interested, Christine Chubbuck

I am so over this. Small wonder I'm on a death-kick.

Ok...back to work.

In keeping with Channel ‘Codia's policy of bringing you the latest in blood and guts in living colour, we bring you another first…

Please leave the room if this will…if this will offend you…

;-)

I just added a twisted history thingy to my left-hand side thingy. I needed a minor project-thingy so that the break-thingy I am taking wasn’t totally spent on me-thingys.

:-D

I have to get back on task in a moment, but I noticed something—on this date in 1986, Andrew Hermann plathed the bejeezus out of himself by drinking cyanide whilst on (local campus) television. Okay, so unusual plathings are an interest of mine; it’s just ‘cos I am morbid as hell sometimes. As is television (probably also because I am morbid as hell sometimes), even though I never get to watch it, ‘cos I am always freaking working anymore. Pfft. But, plathing + television = really getting my attention. I went to summer camp several years in a row with a girl whose father had someone plath himself on the radio, and that was interesting, but…not *exactly* the same (I heard the story of what happened a few times). I guess each medium has its own way of showcasing some things, and in this case television seems to be more…tailored to the intent. Or whatever.

Butsoanyway.

I googled for three-tenths of a second, and found two stories…no one seems to have said exactly why he did it, what happened, or... Hmmph. I may look more later.

Who was the first televised suicide? No, not Howard Beale; he is a fictional character. Christine Chubbuck, to the best of my knowledge. 1974. Dwyer was in 1987. Everyone always says Dwyer. I think it’s sexism; Chubbuck’s was *way* more dramatic, in-your-face, and over-the-top than Dwyer’s. One would think that would make it more memorable, but no. Well, in public opinion, I mean; I’ve been fairly captivated by it for years. Where is Christine’s Lifetime Movie of the Week? I mean *really*…::tap, tap::…’is this thing on?’

Geez. What a tough crowd. What’s a newscaster got to do to get some fame, hmm?

Ok…back to work-thingys.
.

Coolness

Dinner went okay, and I found an awesomely cool thing--trading a paperclip for a house! He has another web site as well, and I have to admit that I am intrigued: Who Are These Guys?

But the cool thing is that the last trade he made was with this lady, who really deserves the recording contract!

The whole thing is such a cute idea! :-)

And if I were Queen, I would *so* take him up on his challenge! Well, except for the twonie--the bears could have it.

.

Happy Easter, Happy Spring, Happy, Happy Everything!

I am in an okay mood. I have to go do a family dinner thing in a bit. I went to feed Mehitabel; I saw no sign of her (and I looked), so I guess I will have to figure out where our new kitten-hiding spot is later. Bwaah.

Eviljob is in a corporate park-type area, and there are tons of trees and forest-stuff around. There's a cluster of kitties who live in the woods next to Eviljob, and I saw that one of them had been hit by a car. I don't see it often, but when I do it breaks my heart. Poor little bug. He was a shiny black cat, like my Squooshable. :-\ I couldn't bring myself to check its nose to see if it had a permanent scratch (and was therefore SquooshDaddy, whom I TNR'd in December, and then TR'd a few more times, once he realised he got fed and suffered no consequences), but it didn't look big enough to be for sure, and I knew that if I looked and it was, that I would be sobbing all day. I could let myself become very upset over this, but I won't. So I didn't check his nose. I decided against moving his body any more or taking it primarily out of fear of infection; he may have had something that made him wander out into the road or something, and I would be afraid that my cats might somehow get it, or other cats that I carried in my car (like Mehitabel & Co., fates willing). Plus the corporate park we are in removes stuff like that pretty regularly (we have squirrels that are hit *constantly*, and every so often a deer gets hit, too), so odds are it willbe gone on Monday. Plus, whomever hit him (or some kind soul who came after) had at least taken him out of the road and placed him in the grass by a bush. I stopped to make sure there was nothing that could be done (it had clearly happened several hours before at least, and he was obviously dead) and went on to tend Mehitabel & Co., and the cats that venture into the parking lot. When I say I feed Mehitabel, I always put stuff out for everyone. So everyone was fed. Almost.

Things are getting worse in this one practical-type class/seminar thing. I would go into it, but I would have to work too hard to come up with parallels.

Ok; back to the happy stuff; there are some really funny cat things here...I am having to tear myself away to go get ready for the famille-stuff.

Ok...time to go get dressed.

.

Easter Squooshables!

I think the little Squooshables were born Thursday or Friday, because one of the people in Security who has really been watching for me is pretty certain Mehitabel was still huge Thursday morning. I walked all over the parking lot looking for over an hour at lunch, but could find no trace of them. Then when I’d gone back inside, another person in Security paged me because they’d just spoken with someone who saw Mehitabel moving two kittens. So they paged me and I phoned him to find out where she is hiding out. He didn’t know where she took the two kittens to, but he knew where they had been.

Security is so very not supposed to be doing this, by the way; they are supposed to be reporting *me* for skulking around the place like I do. Sigh. Thank goodness we have some nice people in Security these days!

When I got off, I went to my car, and…there was Mehitabel! I am *not* kidding! So I gave her some food and water to distract her, and went almost to the back of the building where this guy had said she was. After having to phone him again for *better* directions (I am sure I looked like an idiot, walking around in decorative shrubbery with a cell phone glued to my ear), I finally found it. I was just about to tip-toe in (so as to not squoosh any leftover squooshables) when I saw Mehitabel RUNNING over my way. If you can believe it, she’d seen me from *across* the parking lot! She looked at me hatefully, hissed, and dove into the bush, and I heard a few tiny mewps. Argh. So some are in there still, and at least two others (one of whom is a white kitten, the guy said) are Somewhere Else.

I called Chrissy and Bonnie, but with it being Easter and all, neither of them could come help me tonight. They both said to leave her alone and let her get the kittens back together, though. So I put more food out, and I left. Argh. But, on the other hand, I guess that any squooshable who is too sick to make it until tomorrow, or Monday, or whatever, is probably too sick to make it, period. I mean, they are only a day or so old, and if they are *that* sick, a vet is going to be pretty limited in what they can do. But I heard more than one, and they sounded okay. They sure did recognise Mom. :-)

Ok…I have to type something REALLY quickly; it’s overdue. But someone sent me this, and it’s pretty funny. In The Shul, by 50 Shekel. In case it doesn’t come out below, like it never does.

Ok…I have to go. I may swing by Eviljob tomorrow and see if I can accomplish anything…if I can accomplish something here, that is.

Happy Birthday, Squooshables!

I am pretty sure I saw Mehitabel just now, and I am pretty sure she's
not pregnant anymore. She was out looking for food, so I put a bunch
down for her. No idea where the babies are, though. :-) Maybe
Security has where she came from on camera. Well, it can't hurt to
ask...

And it goes a-little something like this...

So here’s how today went…

Our Someone sent an email to advise me that Cow Orker is not out of our group, he is just being reprimanded for what he has done, and the way in which this shall occur is none of my business.  That was fine with me—I want *nothing* to do with this, and the further away from me it is, the better.  Someone did then email our group with the formal request for revision, which Someone has to do—this is all laid out by contract, and it’s really quite a long and detailed explanation.  And in a way, I am happy about this; I kind of like Orker, especially when he is not plagiarising.  He is the one who reminds me of someone else, and I want to stomp the crap out of him for being lazy, but on the other hand, I feel kindly towards him.  In a way.  Up to the point where he is doing Evil things and putting my name on it, that is.  That’s why I was re-writing all his god-awful stuff for him; I am just an enabler that way. But we knew this.  

So Someone emailed their formal request to the team, which is great, except for the fact that somehow in the shuffle, no one has talked to Orker yet.  

Oops.

Well, I was too…freaked, spooked, frazzled, whatever to do it.  Plus, it’s not my *place* to do it.  If I had my druthers, I would have driven over to Orker’s house and just put him out of his misery.  Eventually.  And believe me, he would have been in a LOT of misery right before I had finished, so it was completely going to be a mercy killing.  

Well, eventually.  With a little set-up.  :-D  

I can’t help it…no one—NO ONE—drags *my* name into stuff like that.  And we’re talking huge chunks of text and something like a diagram here.  That’s not a mistake, at least not an *accidental* one.  

But I didn’t kill Orker, appealing though it was.  Instead, I phoned my Someone who is heading this up, and ratted Orker out.  Which brings us to the present.  

I had to go to a reception this afternoon (which I had completely forgotten about, so I had to Chinese-shirt-and-palazzo-pants it in five minutes, and I am sure I looked like hell, but they *did* have both cherry and concord grape Manischewitz for Passover, so I was happy; how thoughtful of them), and so I had my phone on silent for about three hours.  When I finally found my car again (we all had to park in a sprawling over/under ground garage downtown that is a maze of twisty little passages, all alike), I turned my phone back to normal, and saw that Orker had called me three times.  I figured that he’d spoken with Someone and was calling to bitch me out and since I wasn’t in the mood for it I did not return the call; I just went home and got back to work, since now I have to fix our re-write on top of everything else I already had to do (one of which is a WAY-overdue synopsis kind of thing for MMM…augh!).  After a couple hours, I had actually completely forgotten about Orker and so I was halfway to answering the phone when it rang before I looked, thought about hitting ‘reject’, and then figured I might as well get it over with and answer.  

It only took a couple seconds of conversation to figure out that no one had talked with him yet, and he wasn’t sure why we were re-submitting (but I think he had an idea, which is why he was calling me instead of just hitting ‘reply to all’ and asking what in the hell was going on, or phoning someone else), so I decided on a whim to be perverse and cruel, because I was still pissed off at him, and I was pissed off that no one (or Someone) didn’t step in and call him, or something; I don’t think this should wait until our next conference.  

I just flat-out told him that it might have had something to do with his plagiarising.  Repeatedly.  From a source that I cannot describe here, but it was exceedingly obvious in places—bad enough that it’s kind of like an English teacher I know who received an (allegedly) autobiographical story from a student (born sometime in the mid-eighties, I’d assume) who described the feel of his lunch pail banging on his shins as he walked to his one-room school house whilst watching the Prussian soldiers doing their morning drills in the fields.  Ummm…yeah, *that* bad.  And obvious.  Idiot.  

Butsoanyway.

When I said that, it led to the longest series of ummms and uhhhs that I think I’ve heard ever.  I was tempted to tell him that vocalised pauses never did give nothing to the weasel that he didn’t, didn’t already have…but I didn’t.  I save my cleverity for here.  So I sat through it, actually fairly enjoying it.  I hate to admit it (well, that’s not true—I hate the way it makes me *seem*), but it’s the truth.  What a blast.  

Well, it’s payback for what *I* went through.  Hmmph.  

So what is the first thing he asks?  If I am angry at him!  Oh, no…certainly not.  Ignore those photos of you all over the wall with darts and knives all in them, the eyes gouged out, Colombian neckties drawn in, and swastikas pencilled all over your brow.  They were there when I moved in.  Rilly.

I asked him if that was a really clumsy way of apologising or something, and he said it was.  Sigh.  One cannot help but like him.  I told him that, in case he didn’t know yet, he has to talk to Someone (since apparently it actually *is* my job to do all this).  And then I declined his help with the re-writing.  

Oh, as-IF!  What…so that I could then spend twice as much time making sure it’s our work?  Ummm…no.  

I am so glad that I am not in charge; otherwise I would have to handle this all by mysel…uhhh, waitasec…

.

Peep research!

These links are *hilarious*:

Peeps in the Library

Peep Research

Well, it's what I am doing instead of listening. :-D

.

Okay, so that sucked.

My orker of cows has let me down. :-
He cheated.

Of course I turned him in. I mean, *I* am not risking anything to cover for him. So I have until Monday to re-do his part and submit, probably just for the rest of us, I am thinking. Whatever happens to him is no longer my problem…at least I think it isn’t. I have to wait for Someone to read it and let me know if we are one short in the team department. This I should not be writing about just yet, but I am still freaked out. And I hate drama being dragged into my life; if I have done the wrong thing, then whatever…I just wanted it away from me. And it is distressing, because it is on top of everything I have done for him! Everything! This is what I get for trying to help and let him submit something for us himself—which was intended to make him look better—but instead apparently gave him free rein to sink to his lowest level.

There is just no helping some people; some people one is only *enabling* by helping, in postponing the inevitable. Whatever. What do I care? Why should I care?

Enough of that; I am done with it. Ok; not really. But I am moving on.

Butsoanyway.

I needed something to distract me today as I waited for Someone to return my phone call, and I finally had enough of my key chain, so I took a few hours off to try to find a…whatever it is called. I do not know what, since *I* grew up hearing it called a ‘key envelope’, but have been corrected so many times today, with so many different terms, that I have given up. No one has ever heard of a key envelope, and I was first told that it was a ‘key wallet’ (but of course they have none), then the next clerk (in the next store) said (when I asked for a ‘key envelope’ or ‘key wallet’, whichever) that it is called a ‘key case’ (but of course they have none). So, in the throes of delusion, like a fool I go to the next store and ask for a key…envelope, wallet, or case—whatever. And am promptly advised that it is called a ‘key holder’, but (big shock on the way) they haven’t any.

Oh, screw this.

So I went to one of my favourite stores, where I have purchased the damn things before, and ask (for all four, just to be safe), and am told that they have none. How? How?!? They just aren’t popular, the salesgirl said. No one makes them any longer. Oh, I REFUSE to believe that, I raved…and then bought a cool wallet and two cool cosmetics cases they had on sale. I finally went to a store that had all leather everything, and they had a few, but they were the dinky kind that I don’t want; I want the *real* kind.

What is up with this? How can no one make key envelopes any longer? Oh—and—I was told more times that I can remember that they are for men…like what—that means that even if they are really very useful, I shouldn’t use one? My mother carried one for years, and she picked it up from my father, who has had one for as long as I can remember. And I guess in reality, I picked it up from both of them. But whatever.

So on the way home, stewing, I stopped at the trusty old Indian Dollar (and up) Store. Its real name is more like the Super Dollar Plus Family Store, but the key part is the ‘Plus’ part, meaning ‘and up’; it actually is a dollar store just like I am an Indian princess; it *should* be named the Expect To Pay At Least Retail Store, but I guess that wouldn’t fit in the window, or something. But I was in there the other week to stock up on more hair scrunchies (which they sell at four for a dollar, and I lose scrunchies *constantly*, thereby negating the purpose of paying more than a quarter for one, plus they have cute styles), and I saw that they had the ‘alternate’ style of cheapy key envelope, which is what I think planted the seed in my mind that I really wanted to find another key envelope. I have carried around a normal key chain for the better part of a year, and have come to really despise it.

So I stopped there and bought the four they had (in case I never see another key envelope again for the rest of my life), and on the way out Someone phoned, wrecking what little mood I had managed to build back up, and thereby necessitating that I go home and write a complaint to Kenneth Cole for not making key envelopes any longer. I may have called them a pack of panderingly mercenary capitalist motherfuckers, but I am not sure.

Well…it’s just been one of those days. You know—the kind of day where you want to write to Kenneth Cole and call him a panderingly mercenary capitalist motherfucker?

Okay, okay…I didn’t. I begged, pleaded, and whined, and asked nicely for suggestions as to where I might find more KC Reaction key envelopes, because they are damn close to the best I have ever found; they hold bills, ID, and they even have a valet fob.

See, the trick is to focus on REALLY MINISCULE THINGS. No, rilly. It is. Even Mehitabel is too large to focus on, and I don't mean that she's porky with babies; my helplessness there would cause anxiety to snowball out of control. However, Security is on the look-out for her as I haven’t seen her in days, and today the guard told me she saw her near the front bush cluster just this morning, and she looked to be still preggers. That makes me happy. Well, that she’s ok and everything; I have been putting food and water out for her, but I have been worried. When I put food out for her at Bonnie’s feeding station today, her brother (I guess it’s her brother; he looks just like her and I was told they were all put out at Eviljob at the same time) came over and started snarfing; thank goodness I put a HUGE pile out, to last if anyone else ate from it before Mehitabel could waddle over. And I *do* mean waddle.

I have another meeting early in the morning, and I have to have something ready for it, which I sort-of do, I just wanted to brush it up a little—but I really don’t feel like working on it now. Heh…the paranoid and freaked out mood I am in, I would be up all night, counting to make sure I’d not inadvertently strung three words together that were used by another.

Not that I know anyone who did that—many, many times over—or anything.

Grr.

Ok…it is later now, and I have calmed down even more. I did do a little for tomorrow, even though my heart wasn’t in it really. Now I am just tired. Oh, and like, happy Passover and everything. I forgot before. Anyone trying to burn my animal crackers *this* year's gonna get a shiv in the back, though. I am an angry, animal cracker-eating woman.

Plus, I already sold them to myself. I'm only *holding* them for me for later.

Well, in my tum, that is.


.

This is dedicated...

wnbttc, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

To the one who is driving me psychoapeshit. Heaping helping of Whatthefuckever coming your way!

Thanks for making me re-write almost everything you touch. Bwaah!

Yes, this was a banner THREE test card Wednesday.

Just you and me, eating fudge banana swirl...

testcardgirl, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

Just you and me,
We'll travel 'round the world,
Just you and me, testcardgirl...

Bwaah! Two down (kinda), one left. I saved the big, mean, ugly one for last. Woo-hoo!

Oh, I am so fried. And tired of all the bullcrap. Sheesh. I have to write a whole section that a particular orker of cows was supposed to do, then decided he dinna wanna. Grrr... Everyone has choices but me; has anyone else noticed that?!? BWAAH!

Keep it up, and I'll sic Test Card Girl on you; I think she likes me. She'd prolly mess you up bad. :-P

giggle.

more boop per wednesday than should be maximally allowable

Pilot-ITA, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

I just wanted to get a jump on today; I've been up most of the night typing. Farking boop, already. I have three huge things to be done, and I am only halfway through. Each of them. It doesn't look good, kids. Bwaah!

Well, booooop too.

Really Fresh Air

Fresh Air had the most wonderful show today; I would rate it as a must-hear.  In addition to a pretty reasonable conversation about organic foods, there was the group What I Like About Jew, who has the funniest…Passover…song…EVER.  If I get a spare minute, I am going to *have* to buy that CD!  

Fresh Air, 11 April 2006

Run go listen!

.

If it walks like a duck. . .

Since I spent all of my meeting time today discussing this, here:

How to Spot A Quack

More Ways to Spot A Quack

Hard to believe that educated people could be so dumb. Sigh. Today we wandered off onto the topic of vitamins, then started trading folk remedies. At least I was paid for listening to that crap. What is is about Californians that makes them so soft-headed?

Butsoanyway.

When I got up this morning, Squoosh's left eyelid was swollen. Not reddened, and the fur was still there, but swollen. I touched it gently; he closed completely his eye, and didn't seem to be hurt by my touch. And he was purring and eating, so I ran off to my meeting and phoned Dr Vet on the way; the tech said to bring him in, so I made an appointment for this afternoon, and slated Romeo to piggyback on the appointment to get more sub-cutaneous fluids. By the time I got back home, Squoosh's eye looked practically normal, but I took him just to be safe, and because Rome needed his fluids anyway; his kidney function isn't too bad (Creatinine of 2.8 initially in Oct/Nov and 2.6 in January; normal maximum is 2.0, and the decline is very promising--Dr Vet said this means it may be reversible, because permanent damage usually does nothing but go up--so I will keep doing what I am doing, and he'll be tested again in a month or so), but I like to be conservative and proactive and all that. So we occasionally give sub-q fluids, about four or five times since Christmas and a few before that, and I mix K/D and Senior Hairball for him. This is why I love Dr Vet; I would not have known to ask about blood profiles of Romeo without them telling me, and hopefully catching this early, close monitoring, and all the kidney-flushing will pay off. I hope.

Butsoanyway.

Dr Vet looked at Squoosh's eyes, nose, ears, mouth (mouth because some kind of tooth abscesses can cause bulging of the eyes and eyelids, which I did not know before today!), and throat, and said Squoosh is fine and probably smacked his eye on something running (diagonally!), but it wasn't serious and has cleared up. :-) Yay! So Squoosh is still fine, and Dr Vet took time to let Squoosh try to kill the light from the scope-y thing he used. It was pretty cute--when someone will play with Squoosh, he just perks right the hell up! It's true; everyone loves Squooshable. It must suck to be that damn cute. :-) He was SO enthralled by that light that I think I am going to have to get one (not a laser pointer; they're bad for cats' eyes, I was told a long time ago).

And I did get to talk to Dr Vet about food because (ready for this?) Dr Vet has declared Squooshable to be an adult, or close enough, and wants him off kitten food. I think I am going to start crying! My Babycat is an adult!!! Dr Vet asked what I am feeding him, again told me that Hill's, Eukanuba, Iams, and so on--any premium food--is fine. But Squoosh doesn't need all the extra kitten supplements anymore (and he is 9.8 lbs!), so tomorrow I will exchange all the kitten food I just bought from PetsMart for ::sniffle!:: adult food. And Squoosh can eat a little of Romeo's food, but only a little. Rome still cannot ever eat Squooshable's, however.

But I did get to ask what brand Dr Vet personally prefers, and he said he likes Iams, but repeated again that any premium food is essentially the same, and some people rotate premium brands to get the benefit of different formulas, but that can make Squoosh picky if I do that (eek...too late); so Meow Mix, SuperCat (or whatever), and stuff like that are out. So I think Mr Squoosh will have Iams mostly, if he takes to it okay; Dr Vet was happy with that. He also said that Purina for the parking lot cats is a good choice, and he wouldn't consider purchasing anything more premium for them, and that it's not cheaping out because Purina uses acceptable ingredients and if I *do* get them caught and adopted, odds are a new owner could be talked into buying a $10 bag of Purina for them regularly easier than a $15 bag of Iams, which is a good point, and both brands have food for different life stages and all, which is good. He said he sees a lot of cats who do great on Purina, he just personally prefers Iams (though he sells Hills...shhhh!). I guess Hill's gave him a better deal, though I would never ask. :-) He's entitled to make a profit, and from what he said it's not bad for cats, so I am classifying that under Who Knows, Who Cares.

I just cannot believe my Squooshbaby is all grown up!

Time to sing Squooshrise, Squooshset again!

Oh...and to get back to work. Pfft.

.

omfg.

I have to check further into this to totally verify, but Meg just sent this to me; it looks like that little pisher 'Drang' (last month, in the P for Pokervendetta post) may not have gone home! :-O

Check out #1

And I know that this totally gives away my naming thought process here, but...whatever. I wanted to tell someone. Plus, it's public info now.

If it's him, and I am *somewhat* sure that it is, at least he won.

Sheesh.

Ok...now back to work.

.

Buddy Has Left The Building

Mr Fluffy, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

Totally forgot to mention that early Friday morning, Mr Buddy went to one of the rescue ladies who had him vaccinated and stuff that same day (Thimblebrain let his vaccinations expire, so I paid for PetsMart's vet to do it right there; it was only $80--they didn't charge me an exam fee, 'cos it was for RescueWoman, and Thimblebrain is paying me back--I phoned her and told her that she was cold-busted, because the vet paperwork she gave me was from February, 2005, and I also bought the kitten vaccination for him too, 'cos Thimble didn't give me any paperwork that showed Buddy'd had it, and the vet said it wouldn't hurt if he had it twice). He was adopted yesterday; RescueWoman phoned to tell me that she'd had someone she has known for a little while (who has fostered for her a few times) was looking for a declawed cat and had originally wanted an older cat (because she knows those are harder to place), but fell in love with Buddy (whose real name is the picture tag) at first glance and adopted him. Ms New Owner will take him to the vet on Monday (written into the adoption contract, as well as never going outside) to make sure his leg is ok after the bites. So we may all breathe a little easier; Buddy sounds like he will be just fine. :-) This is Buddy when I left him with Ms RescueWoman. It's sad when all our worldly possessions will fit into one shopping cart.

Yes, I cried. So what?

Ok; now I *really* have to get back on task...

I have The Blāk Shakes!

Bwaah!

I have been busy as hell.

Mehitabel has been MIA for two days; last night, I took time off typing last night to put food out for her like I always do, and tried to look for her, but no luck. I think this means that she may have had her babies. Yay. Just in time for my end-of-semester crunch.

It just never ends, really.

Butsoanyway.

Coca-Cola Blāk is out! And I would STRONGLY recommend not drinking more than one in a 24-hr period. :-D Oh, my lord…I thought I was gonna DIE. I had one in the morning, and it was superfantastic; as I was driving home that evening, I grabbed another, and made it halfway through before I started getting The Blāk Shakes! Augh!

One. Only one. Remember that.

I have to get back to work (I am currently freaking drowning), but I just wanted to shoot out a Mehitabel update and a quick PSA. What would the proper name for The Blak Shakes be, anyway? CAS--Coke Attenuation Syndrome?

Just one. Remember.

.

Truth in Quizzitising

You fit in with: Agnosticism Your ideals mostly resemble those of an Agnostic. You are fairly ambivalent towards any religion or spiritual connection. You lead a very busy life and find that religion and spirituality are unnecessary to your life. 20% scientific. 20% reason-oriented.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

boooop.

Indian Head Test Card, originally uploaded by Ancodia.

arrrgh.

And I want a Calibug. :-D

Cat food, rambling, and 'Codia says mean things about PETArds

What cat food doesn’t suck? Squooshable says that whatever I am eating doesn’t suck. I think I want to get more information on that Innova EVO they mentioned (and look! WildRun is listed on the lower right! Yay!). Oh; and there’s this, too. I will have to read more of it later, though.

:-)

DISCLAIMER: Affiant has no damn idea what she is talking about, and is largely speaking from personal experience, opinions, the heart, lack of sleep, and some stuff she googled; your mileage may vary; a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; I am open for business, not criticism; 19 out of 0 dentists surveyed preferred Ipana simply because Bucky’s so damn cute; make love, not war; do not try this at home; Downy™ fabric softener balls should be operated by trained professionals only; the party of the first part was a cool-ass song; corporate amerika generally sucks balls and would sell their grandmother for a shiny nickel; your onymity is assured, as all data will be reported in constituent form only; if erection persists for longer than four hours, discontinue girlfriend and acquire a new one; abnormal sensations in the extremities should be reported immediately to someone who cares. Further Affiant typeth constantly, to the point that we wish Affiant’s fingers would fall the hell off, or something.

I am not sure and am going to have to ask about the magnesium, ash (remember when *everyone* was saying ash was bad?), and other stuff, but I did find this. I find it really hard to believe that so many vets would endorse ‘premium’ foods if they were harmful; my vet sells Science Diet only (mostly the prescription ones; that's where I get the k/d for Romeo's kidneys to supplement the SD Senior Hairball he mostly eats), I think Iams and Eukanuba are the same company, and I have seen other vets selling them. I have a *really* hard time believing these companies could get the vet endorsements that they do if they were full of bad crap, and I know that's an appeal to authority argument, but that's how I feel all the same; I have *never* seen a vet peddling SuperCat (or whatever Wal-Mart's brand is called), EVER, and it's pretty common knowledge that that food is garbage. In one issue of something I was reading in Dr Vet's office (Cat Fancy?), SuperCat (or whatever) and Ol' Roy (for dogs; why that sticks in my head is beyond me) were at the very bottom of the list of rated foods (and I don't remember the order, but SD, Iams, and Eukanuba were rated highly; Max Cat was rated lower, with Meow Mix, Purina, and all, 'cos their ingredients fluctuated too much, or something). At EPetPals they even specifically say that that Iams attends to the levels of magnesium and so forth. This has more than I will ever be able to remember about pet food, and I just found *this*, which says cats with kidney disorders shouldn’t ever be fed dry food…yiii…I am printing this one out to ask Dr Vet about; Romeo may be on SD’s wet K/D all the time (right now I give it sporadically).

For what my opinion is worth (silence in the peanut gallery!), I *like* Iams, and fed only that to Mehitabel & Co. this past litter because it was nice and smelly, and I was hoping that would make them happy. I feed Squoosh Iams in the kitten packette-thingies, and sometimes give him the dry Iams (he prefers the taste of wet Eukanuba and dry Royal Canin overall). I think Iams, Science Diet, and Eukanuba are all good brands, and I think my cats are all in fairly good health at least partly because I feed them good food. And since Bonnie mentioned it, I just broke down and googled 'Iams animal testing', and one of the first sites that popped up belongs to PETA. Sigh. I am not going to link to that because, just bluntly, I am not the biggest fan PETA has ever had. And I think that falls under an ad hominem argument, but I don’t care; I’m half-tempted to say that I would buy Iams just to spite PETA.

Well, I *didn’t* say it—I said I was half-tempted to say it.

I won’t assume to know how anyone but me feels about PETA, but this is my blog, so I will ‘fess up to how I really do feel about them; if I am offending, my apologies, but I still feel that way, and have little to no interest in the ‘other side of the story’. I personally think they are 50% comprised of raging hypocritical idiots, and 50% comprised of people who don't know any better and think they are helping. Penn & Teller had a really illuminating episode of Bullshit! about PETA. And, for what it's worth, PETA was one of the groups who couldn't lend me one single god damned Birkenstock-shod bunny-hugger when I was phoning all over, asking for help with Mehitabel, though I am sure that if I set up a blog talking about how I was catching ferals and selling them to testing labs only on the solemn promise that they’d be vivisected, they would find the time to come out, criticise, and protest me…provided news crews were there, otherwise they’d just relieve me of my cats, euthanize them, and toss them in a dumpster. Not that PETA has ever done that, or anything. Or that they gave a damn when someone called, trying to *save* a momcat. I think actions speak louder than words, to employ a really over-used adage, especially those actions that act so locally that they’re practically unnoticeable, on tedious, unfulfilling crap like chasing a cat around a parking lot, or showing up faithfully to feed homeless cats all over town like the rescue ladies here. I received (and am still receiving!) help from private individuals who do it because they *care*, and feel a moral obligation to do what they can…and sometimes even more than they are able. One of the rescue ladies routinely has Happy Meals, Kraft Dinner, and Ramen noodles for dinner so that she can save money to buy vaccine in bulk to vaccinate all the abandoned and feral cats she takes in. She takes so little care of herself that the girls at PetsMart buy lunch and stuff for her when she comes in (and yes, I give her money); she spends her own money on gas to drive around and pick up unwanted cats, and she can tell you 27,000 tricks to make vaccine and flea treatments stretch enough to cover everyone. Does that keep me up at night, and make me feel like I do *nothing* in comparison? Sure does. Bless them. Fuck PETA.

Think about it: PETA gets enough in donations—that these ladies never see—that they could at the very least be bulk-purchasing vaccine and stuff for rescuers to buy at a discount. Or subsidising the spaying and neutering that goes on. Assholes. Of the four women that I know who are rescuing in this area, their vet bills are in the THOUSANDS, and they’re paying $20-$40 per spay/neuter. How many cats is that? And where is PETA? How ethical. Not.

One thing I have learnt from all I have gone through in the past year is that my money is going to these private individuals. PETA, HSUS, the ASPCA and all of them can hold a vegetarian bake sale for all I care. My money goes where I see *results*, and my ear gets bent by actions; I’ll buy Purina because *Bonnie* asked me to; not PETA.

And, for what it's worth, many PETA members are the same rampaging fucktards who think cats and dogs should be vegetarian just like their owners, which—incidentally—is damn close to the stupidest thing I have ever heard; cats need a daily protein intake of like 90%, or something, as well as taurine, which they aren't going to get from farking beans and rice (can you say carnivore, kids? I know you can!). Do what you want with yourself, but leave the tiny furry thing that you are essentially holding hostage out of it; it needs MEAT, and it probably doesn’t have a way to escape your delusional clutches.

Damn…it would be really funny if some smoking meat-eaters banded together and raided some PETArd homes to rescue *their* animals. Heh.

Butsoanyway.

Animal food as it stands pushes it with all the corn meal and rice; that's why I use SD, Iams, Eukanuba, Nutro, and Max Cat (aren't those last two the same brand, too?)—because the 'generic' food one can buy at, say, Wal-Mart is too low a quality (protein-wise) and they are probably stretching out their protein with corn meal, barley, and stuff to be able to sell a 20-lb bag of food for $1.99, or whatever. I figure that, with pet food at least, one gets what one pays for--that's just my rationale. I will have lower vet bills later ‘cos I didn’t feed them total junk today. They are just like fast food for cats, but instead of fat, they load it up with corn and other things cats don’t need. Hey; I’m not alone for once. I have fed stuff like Deli-Cat to my cats (and the parking lot cats before I knew there was a Momcat and kittens) in a pinch, but I try to make that an *absolute* minimum, and try not to go any ‘lower’ than Deli-Cat.

And, since I have already gotten started on the animal testing thing, I know animal testing is not ideal, but the fact is that until the US government accepts my proposal to test on any prisoner incarcerated for longer than five years, it is going to happen; that's just an unkind truth. Any company--ANY--that claims to not test on animals is doing one of two things: (1) fudging the truth to lure the bunny-hugger market; *they* may not conduct animal testing, but they hire a third-party lab to conduct the government-required testing, or they test their stuff only in parts and then claim the whole wasn’t tested on animals, or (2) re-using a formula (possibly purchased from another company) which has *previously* been tested on animals, and has remained unchanged in its formulation. So if it goes on or in your body, assume some fluffy bunny died for it; that's just life. Sure, it isn't pleasant to think about, but knowing the truth is always ultimately nicer than buying into a big pack of fiction. Truth can be changed; fiction can’t because, well, it’s a pack of god damned lies.

So animal testing is a fact, and one that probably won't be changed in my lifetime. I don't see the point in protesting it—it's to keep us safe, after all—but I would prefer that it be as cruelty-free and un-redundant as possible. There should be some control board to which one must apply before beginning testing, and inspections need to be made. No animals should be tormented, or treated with negligence and indifference. I guess that is the best that can be hoped for, but that goal is being all muddied-up by people who think that they can do away with animal testing completely. Yes, I believe animals are people too, and if anyone can come up with an alternative that doesn't involve raiding Romanian orphanages, they sure have my support. As things are, I wish that we could just go on a mission to make the testing as humane and non-redundant as possible. Or test on prisoners—then I don't give a damn what gets done.

But back to health-stuff... Dr Vet loves Squooshable--I mean like REALLY LOVES Squooshable (typical conversation when I bring Romeo in: To Romeo: 'Well hi, Romeo!' To me: 'So how's Squooshable?'). And Dr Vet knows what Squoosh eats—we talked about it when I first found him, and I leave a big bag full of everything he eats when I drop him off for boarding (Eukanuba Kitten cans and Iams, Nutro, and Eukanuba kitten packettes; I used to add SD kitten and Iams cans to the mix until Squoosh decided he didn't like them anymore). I have a hard time believing that the same vet who told me that certain vaccines are useless, possibly dangerous for Squoosh, and a waste of money (that he would be making) would have said nothing if any of those brands were bad for Squoosh.

And as psychotic as I am going to go when Romeo dies ::knock wood::, I don't think Dr Vet would put himself through that any earlier than he is going to have to should SD be harmful. And originally—before the kidney stuff came into the picture—Dr Vet said any premium senior food would work for Romeo; SD just had the first Senior Hairball I saw, and Rome seemed to like it just fine.

And I just found this: Premium brands, which includes Purina! Ok—so I feel not as bad about Purina. Bonnie said to use Purina One or the other one in the silver containers. And I found an online thingy to fill out to get a free bag of Nutro. And, lastly, I kind of liked this article; at least he is honestly admitting when he doesn’t know something, a trait I find admirable as hell, even if he doesn’t have a cool Disclaimer like I do.

I know…everyone’s glad that I don’t get all political and proselytise much. :-)

Shutting up now.

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All hail the mighty gerbil!

I have been making up for lost time at Eviljob from when I was in Reno, and so I volunteered to revamp this thing that lists out standards and specs. No one else wanted to do it; it is long, boring, and mostly solitary work…up to the point where I had to give a brief overview to a manager and a few other people. It is worthy of mention that throughout all this, la managerette was the only one who was not laughing. Well, *I* wasn’t until the end.

Ancodia: …and so, we see that X is, in Situation Y, the more accessible and durable solution.

Manager: …gerbil?

Ancodia: Pardon?

Manager: You said gerbil? It’s a gerbil solution?

Ancodia:: Durable; it is a durable solution (I should have thought to spell it here, but I didn’t).

Dork 1: (trying to not laugh out loud, and failing) I don’t understand.

Manager: Me, either.

Ancodia: Durable! Dur-a-ble!

Manager: …ger-uh-bil?

Dork 2: (snickering) I think it’s gerbil; I agree with her.

Ancodia: Dura…dur…oh, forget it; it demonstrates a resistance to insults to its external integrity which is marked in comparison to other Xs of its kind.

Manager: I understand, but what does that have to do with gerbils?

(Dorks 1 and 2 break out laughing)

Ancodia: Oh, screw you all—they’re hardy little bastards.

Manager: I don’t know; I never had one. I just wasn’t familiar with the saying.

Jesus christ on a popsicle stick. This is why one *reads* prior to sitting down. Sigh.

In Clawless Cat News, I just talked with Chrissy, and she said that she knows another pet rescue person who will take Buddy (thank god), will charge a little more for him, and will background-check prospective parents. Yay. Now I just have to get Thimblebrain to drop the cat off so I don’t have to. And I didn’t see Mehitabel at all today, which worries me. Or, I guess since we are going to try to drug her again once she has her babies, it’s a good thing—that means it will be over soon. Maybe. I hope.

Hey. That’s great.

I am about to be the proud second owner of an almost one year-old de-clawed kitten.

Woo-hoo.

My co-worker just phoned me to let me know that Buddy (I don’t remember what his name really is, so now it’s Buddy) got out *again*, and was bitten *again*.

Bwaah!

Tomorrow is Buddy’s last day on antibiotics from the leg wound, and Thimblebrain is taking him to the vet for a check-up. So she just phoned to tell me she’ll give me the cat as long as I see to it that it goes to a ‘good’ home. You know—kind of like the one he DOESN’T live in right now?

I asked her if Buddy could wait, or if I needed to come get him right now; Thimblebrain said he’s in a fairly-unused bathroom now, so he can wait. So I have left messages for the four cat rescue people I have numbers for.

…did I say ‘BWAAH!’? I forget.

At least he’s fairly young and has all his shots. :-\ I could just *so* go ballistic right now. Poor cat.

Butsoanyway.

This semester is almost over. Yay. Well, it’s closer to being over than it was yesterday. And I am still swamped. I just want to hide in bed for a month at this point.

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DST is not healthy for Ancodias and other living things

You bastards. I *mean* it—you bureaucratic pack of ass munches.

You have taken away my sunset as I go to my evening seminar class. You People suck; that was *my* sunset. Jerks. And you’ve robbed me of an extra hour of sleep (or typing, rather). That alone is worthy of a beating. C’mere.

Grr.

I wish that I were a talented enough writer to describe how wonderful it was to see the sun setting as I walked down the tree-covered sidewalk to class; it’s one of those things that either gets taken for granted, or gets filed away under ‘things I will some day get around to really doing justice to by writing about with Style and Flair’.

Well, now I can watch it set through a window. Whee.

Butsoanyway.

I am doing the ‘read and regurgitate’ thing today, and taking (undeserved) time off to whine about it. As usual. I was working late last night, and fell asleep in my living room with the television on low, listening to the radio. I think it was the radio that did it; they must have had a Béla Bartók marathon in honour of his recent birthday or something, but I had a really bizarre dream in which I was married to Béla Bartók, and had brought home five hundred tiny turtles (with rounded shells, not the dinky flat shells) to give to people in a study I was conducting (‘thank you for your participation; here—have a turtle!’). The box in which they were being contained broke, and I was running all over the house trying to pick up turtles and put them in bowls and stuff before Squooshable footballed (pawballed?) them off into Parts Unknown. And before Béla got home; he had phoned to say that he was on his way when the box broke. There were turtles EVERYWHERE, and Squoosh was running himself silly trying to give every single one of them a good smack!

Squoosh was having a blast, by the way.

When I woke up, I honestly looked around for a second for turtles. Sheesh.

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Yay

Today has been pretty good; I took time off from Eviljob, and have spent it sleeping, typing, listening to NPR, and typing. I will have to make a run up to Eviljob anyway to feed Mehitabel, though. Right now I am waiting for a paper to upload.

Ok—that’s like, one down, six thousand to go.

Augh.