Coolness.

I have been told that Mehitabel had two kittens—one grey and one black—out with her the other day, and stopping by Eviljob on the way home from Job II to feed the kitties last night, I saw one of the black tuxes (and I fed it), so that makes three that are accounted for.  I have to catch them, but at least they are accounted for.  I will see what I can do this weekend, though I just had a major re-write foisted upon me that has to be done this weekend.  Gah.  

Yesterday was absolutely beautiful; I could really *feel* Autumn kicking in.  :-)  And with the kittens still out, and Mehitabel uncaught, and me so swamped, I feel guilty as hell saying it, but…I am happy.  Things are *good*.  

I like my new Job II.  I LOVE my new office (it has a gorgeous view!).  I like my new co-workers (some of them are quirky, but it is a *livable* quirkiness).  I finally feel as if I am doing what I want to do, and working with People Who Care on Things That Matter.  

About damn time.

And I realise this all as I am driving home, looking at one of the most gorgeous sunsets.

Coolness.

.

articles and cat beds. yay.

Okay, I do know that I suck.  I am typing a really quick thingy as I wait for pdfs to download.  I wait for pdfs to download a lot. 

Butsoanyway.

I am having to pull journical articles (!!!) from a new(-ish; I really try to shy away from it as all of the articles are usually named the same thing, it seems) source.  Appropriately enough, the archives are named in a Halloween spirit:  ieeek.

Oh, ok...take off the k, and you'll see why this is boring.  :-)  I would make some all-inclusive cracks about how DULL these types are, but then I would have to immediately retract it all 'cos I do know (and now work with) a few interesting ones. 

...they just all title their papers exactly alike because it is *unimportant*. 

'...what should we call this paper, Bob?'

'Which one?'

'The one where we reduced error by re-approximating without compensating for fluctuations in Lambda'

'I dunno, Mike--how about "Reducing Error by Re-Approximating Without Compensating for Fluctuations in Lambda?"'

'Sounds good!'

And most of them don't even have *colons*, fer chrissake.  Don't they know ANYTHING about having a good journical article?  Bob *could* have named it something more catchy, *with* a colon:

Mary Doesn't Need A Little Lambda:  Error Reduction Reduxed

There.  Isn't that better?

In Other News, Cookie and Rhett are fantastic, and have almost totally stopped hissing to talk.  My finger is still numb, though.  :-)  One of the security guards said that she saw Mehitabel with only two kittens, one grey and one black.  :-\  If at all humanly possible, I will try to go out Sunday and see if *I* can see them.  Sigh.  It is all so depressing that I try to not even think about it.  Cookie is so much like Squooshable, and I just know that other little black cat is probably like Squooshable--which means he or she is VERY UNHAPPY out there.  He or she just doesn't realise it yet.  Squooshable and Cookie are big fans of creature comforts; I have never seen a cat as happy as Squoosh gets when I bring him a new cat toy, tube to hide in, condo, sling...whatever--he honestly really, truly realises that they are presents.  The last new thingy I bought for Squooshable is this leopard-spotted rectangular tunnel thingy that has a fleecy bed inside, a hole at each end, and it is convertible; Squoosh can make it into a sofa shape, or a U-shape, or a bunch of other shapes.  It looks kinda like this, except that it is longer, and has the two holes, and it fills the 'Privacy' piece of the puzzle on the label.  It is very nice, and was only around $20.  Well, when I brought it in, Squoosh *immediately* crawled into it (before I had even set it down!) and started purring!  He stayed in there the rest of the night--I even brought his food in there, and that made him REALLY happy.  It is so easy to make Squooshable happy.   oh--and food--they like food.  A lot. 

The next thing I am buying will probably be this, and I am not sure who will claim it; I will put it up for grabs.  It would be for Weebie, but she already has one sort-of similar and she doesn't really use it--she has an unnatural attachment to a cheap-o circular Wal-Mart bed that I bought for around $10 (or less, I think) a few years ago on a whim.  She climbed in it, curled up, and decided it was hers.  :-)  When Weebie wants privacy, she goes under my bed; I think she figures she doesn't *need* a smaller privacy bed-thing.  Romeo doesn't like 'privacy' beds like those (I think because he cannot see as well as he used to); he prefers to find an afghan somewhere and conk out there, or on the half-circle rug in front of my refrigerator where the hot air blows out (fave spot #1), or the large circular flannel throw pillow/floor cushion thing I made years ago.  I bought the rug for him to lie on when he is in the kitchen, and he was very grateful for it.  :-)  It almost makes it worth it to keep tripping on it every once in a while...ack!

Okay...I have to get some sleep.  Sigh. 

By trudging through the ieeek stuff, I am being all industrious-like, but I am still sweating my meeting tomorrow...bwaah!



.

In Brief

I wish that I had a million more minutes in the day, and that they were ‘Rollover’ minutes, and so I could have time to say all the things I want to, like I am not doing right now.

I am okay, and so is everyone else, and I am going to have to find a way to blog at work, or something.

I am stressed out. My neck hurts. I am not lovin’ this. I want to run away and become a pirate!

End whine.

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Happy (belated) Rosh Hashana!

I had a cool birthday; a few of us went to one of my favourite restaurants, and I ate way too much. It is a seafood restaurant, and I searched for a parking spot in back, I saw that there was a big, healthy-looking tabby that hangs around in back; our server said that he is the restaurant's 'unofficial' cat, and he has been raiding the cast-off food for years. :-) Lucky cat! I wish that I could catch Mehitabel, get her spayed, and relocate her to some place like that, where she could live the easy life for the rest of her days. :-
Yesterday I snuck out of Eviljob (I couldn't justify taking the day off, birfday or not) early and went to visit my father, which meant that I got back into town way-late, and Meg decided to skip the stuff at the Borgata this weekend, so now I am going out with her (and ignoring stuff I have to do by Monday until this evening).

And, in case anyone is interested, the Royal Society has opened the ENTIRETY of their archive for free access until December! Now *that* is a nice birthday present!

In Other News, everyone else is fine.

.

You know what time it is...

Yes! It is the Flavour of Birfday!

w00t!

I am considering designating this day a High Holy Day, or something.

Well, it would make a nice festival, if the Mid-Autumn Festival weren't already going on.

Hmmm...a quandary.

;-)

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Happy Birfday to Mom!

You know, we should just start this Mid-Autumn Festival during the first week of the Holiday Season in honour of everyone's birfdays. I didn't think about it until now 'cos I have been busy, so this year I am extending it until next Friday.

Yay! A festival!

Today is my mother's birthday, and I think we may be doing something with her this evening, though with her, it's hard to tell. I am at work, so it will have to be much later on, 'cos I also have a presentation today.

Ok...back to work!

Happy Birfday to the bestest Grammarian what I ever knowed of!

Happy birthday to the extremely lovely and extraordinarily talented Rock and Roll Grammarian! You are the most wonderful Samantha that has ever been!

This picture is supposed to look like Simon standing next to a birthday cake. :-)

This picture is supposed to look like a Simon birthday cake! :-)

I hope that you have the most wonderful birthday ever, and I hope that Simon has fun playing with all your presents! ...they *are* all for him, right?

.

Just call me Captain Morgan?

Happy Talk Like A Pirate Day! I have to tell you, this Holiday Season is shaping up nicely! Next point of interest on our trip will be Ms Grammarian's birfday tomorrow!

At first I was this:

My pirate name is:

Calico Morgan Rackham

Often indecisive, you can't even choose a favorite color. You're apt to follow wherever the wind blows you, just like Calico Jack Rackham, your namesake. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

...I thought maybe not picking a favourite colour was bad, so I did and got this:

My pirate name is:

Captain Morgan Kidd

Even though there's no legal rank on a pirate ship, everyone recognizes you're the one in charge. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

Happy Birthday...

To Susan, over at Wildrun, the saviour of kitties! And I only know that it is her birthday because she mentioned it in really brief passing, because she is all selfless like that. For her birfday, I am giving a passel of kittens who require no maintenance, no care, and no placement! w00t! It's a guilt-and-burden-free dose of cute! :-)

Hugs!

and all the love, and all the love in the world...

Yes, so I am a very depressing little girl. :-) We knew this.

Okay, so I am working, overduedly, when Harry phones me to say that he is at PetsMart, and someone has just dumped off three kittens that the manager thinks are about one or two WEEKS old.

Yes, I said WEEKS. WEEKS. As in not months; WEEKS.

They were going to get Animal Services to come pick them up (and kill them--AS doesn't attempt to handle any animal so young that it cannot immediately be put up for adoption), but Harry told them I would take them (!!!), and so they donated a couple cans of KMR (how very, very sweet!), because they didn't *want* to call Animal Services.

...like they had to last week for a litter of five tiny ones that were dumped off there that no one would take before they closed. :-(

And then I thought for a second and realised that *I* would starve them to death, 'cos there is no way in hell I could feed them regularly enough with the way my schedule is right now. So I phoned Chrissy and Bonnie, and Chrissy phoned me back first. She said she has good luck with tiny kittens, and just picked up some KMR herself, so I got Harry to drop them off to her and I just have to meet her later in the week to give her some money for these guys.

BWAAH!

Well, at least three more have life. Hopefully it will be a good life.

And then Bonnie phoned and told me about a sale on traps out in the boondocks that I may try to hit tomorrow if I can squeeze the time out (heh), and she offered to tell L (I haven't even mentioned the weirdness that is going on with *her* yet) that Cookie and Rhett Butler are hers (Bonnie's), to get her to take them and put them up for adoption.

I didn't realise how political all this stuff is, but here is the deal in Reader's Digest Version: L is the five-oh-whatever charity thingy thing; Bonnie and Chrissy are only two of her foster moms (therefore, I am actually abusing the crap out of them since they are just ladies like I am with no particular non-profit superpowers, but at least I give them money and stuff, plus I didn't know the difference until around last month sometime--before that, I thought that both Bonnie and Chrissy were rescue people like L). Only L has a really bad habit of putting animals (especially cats/kittens) out for fostering and never taking them back--that's how Chrissy ended up with a house full of sixty cats and kittens at one point. So Chrissy and L have had a little falling-out (can you blame Chrissy? I wrote about the straw that broke the ChrissyCamel's back here), and then L popped up with--check this out--a HUMMER.

I so totally should *not* be talking about all of this, so I am going to back off the details a little. But I mention the car 'cos this was during the same period of time that Chrissy was trying to pay off $1,500 to Dr Superhero for all the fostering she has done...for L.

Now, I am a little bit of a materialistic girl, sure. I'm also an honest girl; I will *admit* that I am a little consumer-oriented (that's such a nicer word than materialistic). But I am also a LOYAL and HONEST girl; if I tell you that I need you to do X, but I will pay you Y, and it will end on Date Z, then I *do* that. Or tell you why I cannot, and tell you that I will be paying you Y + A, and the new projected end date is Z + B. Or *something*--I don't just stop answering when you telephone me, which is what I am told Lisa did. And NO WAY IN HELL would I leave someone with *my* bills to foot when I am out buying a Hummer. I mean, having to buy a new car because yours broke down is one thing...but a HUMMER?? And L's car *didn't* break down--she is still using the same car to go to adoption sites, and I know 'cos I have *seen* it still. Plus, L doesn't work. Who will be making the payments on that Hummer? I'm thinking the same thing Chrissy is thinking: That Hummer is being paid for by the money that *isn't* going to Dr Superhero (or reimbursing Chrissy) for all of those spays, neutering, tests, and emergency surgeries that Chrissy paid for (and Bonnie, and a few more foster moms out there). Oh, no--fuck that shit. If I were Chrissy, I would be pissed, too. And if you asked me to friendly-up a litter of kittens and you would pick them up in a month and then you didn't? Hoo-buddy, would I be pissed off. Especially if I did all this at my own expense, and then you kept screwing me over--I'd go burn down your god damned Hummer.

Seriously.

Unless there were kitties in it, or something, I mean. Then I'd just slit the fucking tires and pour nail polish remover and coffee grounds in your gas tank. And salt. And maybe marshmallows. And whatever else I could find in my purse that I didn't want anymore. And I have a really big purse that's just full of stuff I don't need; I mean, I can always buy more tampons, right? Right! :-)

Not that I am vindictive, or anything; let's just say that I have a highly-developed sense of Justice. Yeah.

Ok--now I *really* have to get back to work.

Oh--and--in fairness, no; I have not seen L's Hummer personally myself. She has only had it for a couple of months, and does not take it to her adoption sites. But Chrissy drove out to L's farm when she heard about it and Chrissy says she saw it herself, and I believe Chrissy; she's not the type to lie. Plus, she was told about it by another one of L's foster homes who was also pissed off about it, and that's how she heard about it in the first place.

.

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime...

I have just finished a last-second butt-saving (mine own), and am embarking upon another as I type. I have a lot of people telling me that they don’t know how I manage to do it all, and today is one of those days where I have to admit that I don’t know either.

And I managed to feed the kitties, too. And feed my kitties, and soak my cats’ food bowls in bleach/vinegar to get rid of whatever smell has been turning Squoosh off his soft food for the past week or so. He is either more sensitive to smells or more slobby with his bowl than my other cats. Gah. But I figured that if it is bothering him, then it may be bothering my other cats, too. Not that I can see or smell anything, but a month or so ago he did the same thing and when I scoured his bowl that time, the removable rubber feet were all crapped up (because the little pig flings food everywhere when he eats, and he slops water all over his food placemat when he drowns his stuffed/catnip toys—which for some reason he does a lot; I guess it really thrills him), so maybe that is what he is smelling.

Someone come over and type this shit for me. No, rilly.

:-)

.

Oh--one more thing:

I am starting the Mid-Autumn Festival like, really, really soon.  We're going to eat moon cakes until we lie puking in the streets. 

I would just like to point out that if one cuts the corners off a Sara Lee chocolate cake and eats them, the remaining portion is in a moon shape. 

Mere coincidence?  I think not. 

The more things change…

Gah!  

Okay; I accomplished little today.  It ended up being one of those days where I spent most of my time getting everything ready to tackle The Big Project, yet my pencils kept rolling off the desk, so I didn’t get a whole lot done.

Well, figuratively speaking—I wasn’t really arranging pencils on my desk.  They were mental pencils.

No, I am *not* the most mental pencil of them all.  Shut up.

Yes, I can so too hear you.

Butsoanyway.

The New Job II is going okay, I think.  I like everyone there, and I think everyone likes me so far.  There may be one person who is iffy about me, but eh—can’t win them all.  I just have a lot of catching up to do, because our focus (see how I am being all team-y and inclusive?) now is different from Old Job II’s focus, primarily in the sense that each lead individual has their piece, and that is their One Thing—there is no hopping around from Thing to Thing like at OJ2.  This is both good and bad.  It is good in that I will—it seems—finally, exclusively, get credit for the thing(s) that I do.  No more Sophies sneaking onto stuff by hinting that it would look good on their CV.  No more crediting of 5+ people for the work of one or two.  That part rocks; at conferences, if I had to politely deflect any more questions about why one of our major projects has a million billion authors, I was planning on screaming.  Or, worse yet, the enquiries as to how some yahoo I have never seen before can tag along for the ride just ‘cos we have superty-cool buzzwords (we are—or were, rather—well-known for our sexy keywords) and seem to be just tagging anyone onto anything.  So that part is good; no more contributions becoming diluted or stolen out from under me.  Plus I am getting a LOT more personal attention—as in, my new group has made it clear that they want to help me.  Go figure.  It’s a freaky and novel feeling.

The bad part is that this is different enough that I have to play catch-up.  And that there is less room for error.  Or fucking off.  I have, basically, done got sold to The Big Boys.  Eek.

So I have been doing a lot of catching up and looking busy.  

Eviljob is all the same.  As ever.  And no, I still haven’t caught (1) Mehitabel, or (2) any more kittens.  I haven’t because (1) I have been too busy, and it is hard enough making sure the two I do have are happy, healthy, fed regularly, and in a clean area (god, are they messy), (2) I *still* am not sure where she is hiding them, since for the past few days I have been doing something at dawn and/or dusk when they are out playing, and (3) this is not completely simple, like I set down the trap and the kitten walks into it (don’t I wish!); I was kind-of hoping that it would be, but each time I have tried—successfully or not—it has taken a few hours.  Cookie alone took the entire day.  So I may be looking at just trapping them for neutering and release in a few more weeks if things keep going like this.

And in Gossip News, my one friend (more Meg’s than mine, but that’s not the point) whom I have mentioned before (the stoned Israeli girl) has generated upheaval in this little group-ish social circle thing by deciding to up and cheat on her partner, whom she might as well be married to, considering how long they have been together.  This is shocking because she is essentially throwing over a Perfectly Good Guy for a dork who is, in my book, basically a bum.  And there is the requisite dirt-throwing (I now know more about their sex life and her personal habits over the past nine years than I believe the bounds of Good Taste and Propriety should allow), and wailing and gnashing of teeth, and…all that.  And we know that I am a Low Drama Girl.  Oh, yes, I am.  

So blecch.

This New Guy is also married (bwaah!!), but…check it out…his wife doesn’t understand him.  And he’s not attracted to her.  

I think I am one of the few women on Earth for whom statements such as these set off air raid sirens.  Ever see Airplane?  Like what goes on in Striker’s head.  Yeah—that.  :-)  Yes, I am apparently one of the few—to other women, these seem to be adorable and endearing statements that further fan the flames of love.

Oh—sorry—the flames of LURVE.

And this girl (who, if this shit keeps increasing on the drama scale, I will have to name.  Yes, something nicer than ‘Dipshit’) is *so* clearly substituting newness for intimacy that it is amazing that she could be so blind.  She is one of Those who feel that they are hep, cool, and all liberated-like if they come off with that old, ‘sexually, I am more like a man’ crap—which usually translates into (and this comes not only from me—this has been a topic of major discussion over the past couple of weeks, and I have corroboration) the fact that the speaker has not the first clue about what actually constitutes intimacy and making love, much less what turns her on, and is instead relying upon any number of ‘shortcuts’ (e.g., freakiness, novelty, sheer numbers, physical attributes, etc…) to ‘do’ it for them.  

And I am not saying that everyone who does [whatever] does it ‘cos they don’t know what turns them on and/or how to have a healthy adult relationship; I have done enough in my life so far that I am well aware that some things are fun just because they are fun.  What I am saying is that when someone like this—an otherwise intelligent woman—pops up with this crap about being ‘like a man’, expresses that she has not been physically interested in her partner for years, and one adds to it the fact that she ‘hates’ to cuddle, does not like to take showers—for fun—with her partner, sees ‘no point’ in taking time to prepare oneself for a date (yes, that is a quote), believes that play that does not lead to orgasm is ‘useless’ (yet another quote; I *told* you I had learnt more about this person and her relationship and habits then I ever, ever wanted to know; I have scads of detail here, but I am just doing a drive-by venting), and rushes to sleep with New Male so quickly (we’re talking within days of meeting) that all hopes of a relationship seem laughable, and so on…I am saying that this person has NO clue about herself and what makes her tick sexually and relationship-wise, and has even less of a clue about what makes others tick.  My thinking is, ‘sure—dump Perfectly Good Guy (who is STILL putting up with your shit, even through all this current humiliation and your prior lack of putting out for over a year) and run off with New Guy; in a couple of years you will be bored of him as well, and moving on to someone else, and that makes the issue of your compatibility together a moot point’.  There.  Problem solved.  

Because I think that until she fixes herself, she is not going to find anyone who is going to stand the test of time in a relationship.  If I restricted myself the way she is restricting herself, I would be bored with whomever I was with also!  I think anyone would!  

But this has divided a bunch of us—there is the faction that agrees (more or less) with what I am saying here, and then there is the faction that sees nothing wrong with anything she is doing, and feels that she should ‘follow her heart’ and that means running off with New Male.  

Assuming he actually left his wife, that is.

And I do say ‘blecch’, but in truth this upheaval, combined with the cat upheaval, has helped to distract me from my own personal drama.  

I have really not done well in keeping up with all of this.

Okay—a while back I dated someone, and the nutshell explanation is that he was a freak and a jerk.  Just trust me on this; he was.  And now he is getting some local attention, and I have to put up with seeing or hearing his name on a damn-close-to-daily basis.  

But I can’t really discuss that right now, ‘cos I am upsetting myself again.

I need to get some sleep so that I can get up early tomorrow, and if I go into this now, I’ll be up all night.  Again.  

Sigh.  G’night.

.

No, really--I am still alive.

I have meant to write something all week, but things have been pretty hectic.  It is taking a lot of work to get my crap together for the New Job II.  I am still not certain of where the new hiding place for the kittens is, and I will go out tomorrow and try to look.  The problem is that I have something due Monday and can’t stay for too long.  I am getting less and less optimistic about getting a majority of this litter.  

But Rhett Butler Kittypants (Mummers named him) and Cookie Kittypants are doing wonderfully, and Cookie has a huge crush on Squooshable.

Though who doesn’t, really?

I am actually working right now; I am trying to pull a crapload of articles, and I am EXHAUSTED.  In order to catch the kittens when they are out, I will have to be there at sunrise or sunset, it seems; any other time, they are nowhere to be seen.  

Okay; I *have* to get back to work right now; if I can get the stuff I need to get done finished off tomorrow, I swear that I will write more.  

Augh.

.

Mr Rhett Butler Kittypants

Multimedia message
Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

The 2006 Holiday Season!

...begins TOMORROW. 

Plan accordingly.

End trans.

Attention: Immediate Action Required

In an effort to honour multiculturalism, because we need as much happiness as possible, and because I am so fricking miserable, we will begin celebrating a Mid-Autumn Festival at some point in the Holiday Season, beginning from this Holiday Season forward. The exact date will be announced at a later time, however Management requests that each individual familiarise themselves with this practice and be prepared to participate with minimal advance notification.

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter; it is your continued commitment to excellence that is the hallmark of this institution.

.

Thanks for the paranoia. Hmph.

Of course Meg has to be flying home from the Borgata on 11 September.
I haven't been keeping up well with what is going on with her, but in
a nutshell, she went to NJ for a long weekend, and so that puts her
flying home tomorrow. Sigh. I think people just *enjoy* making me
worry.

Ok, so where are they?

I like my new trap. It is not a Havaheart, it is made by Harbour
Freight, and i haven't caught anything with it yet because i cannot
find the damn kittens, but i like it. Mehitabel has positioned
herself under a tree as a decoy, and i don't see them out playing, so
i don't know where she has them hidden. Sigh. But i *do* like my new
trap.

I amaze even myself at times.

Maybe everyone is right. Maybe i really *am* stupid. I had to return
Bonnie's traps, and when i came home, my bucket trap was still not
here...but the OTHER trap i bought--a regular one--was! It arrived
today! And i had forgotten all about buying it because i was so
focussed on the bucket one. It's not assembled, but i can probably
figure it out tonight. So that's cool. The kittens i have are ok, but
ties little personalities are as different as night and day! Cookie
just *has* to be somehow related to Squooshable--her personality is so
similar to his. Not identical, but very similar, and i have been told
by someone at some point in time that a cat's personality is inherited
from the father, so maybe there is a pack of black cats related to
Squoosh back in the woods, or something. I don't know, but in a
really guilt-ridden way, i am thankful for the night 'off'. I need it.

Toofies issues

I didn't catch any cats today, and it looks like Mehitabel may have
moved them. After my meeting, which i will have to talk about later,
Mom phoned (actually during the meeting, but i missed her three calls)
because she had a dental emergency which it is, of course, my job to
fix, so i drove over and went with her to her dentist. By the time i
got back into town it was dark, and i saw no kittens, though last
night at the same time was when i caught Mr Kittypants. And i have a
crapload of things to do. Just shoot me. And i still need a name for
him. And i am exhausted, have to work tomorrow, and have to give
Bonnie's traps back, as well. And my craptacular bucket trap is still
not here. And i am running myself ragged trying to fit the kittens'
feeding schedule in with my own, and we'll not even talk about how
impossible it is to keep them with fresh water--they both think it is
funny to get their paws wet in the water dish, run through the litter
box, and then dip their paws back in the water. I have to have
changed their water out at least three to five times today. In spite
of how depressed i must sound, i am laughing. What else can i do but
laugh? Well, i could try to sleep.

Yay!

I am at Eviljob, and i just caught another squooshable; this one is a
grey tabby-looking one...i think. It has bathed itself in the tuna
bowl, so i'm not certain. :-) god, my car smells horrid. I have set
the second trap out as well...let's hope i get lucky, although i
cannot wait too much longer. I would leave the trap, but the way
things are going, i wouldn't be able to check it in time. Sigh. So;
what should i name this one?

Cookie, Cookie, Cookie starts with C!

Multimedia message
Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

...doesn't she look a lot like Squooshable? She is *so* loving! She just likes to cuddle and purr, and when I stop her from going somewhere, she obeys and just sits down. Mehitabel's babies have such nice personalities! I cannot believe this little thing bit my finger and made it all swollen and numb (yeah, it's still numb and tingly/electric-y feeling; I think she hit a nerve). She didn't even give Dr Vet or Zack The Tech the least bit of crap about the blood draw, fecal sampling, lymph node poking, ear canal looking, or anything. I am (still) working, right now talking to one of my new Job II's post-octopi (we have a few of them in this group), trying to get a better idea of what in the hell is going on.

I spend a lot of time anymore wondering what in the hell is going on.

Butsoanyway.

I have to get back to work, but this photo wouldn't post from my phone yesterday for some reason.

Anybody want a kitten? She's a nice kitten!

No, really.

I guess I could take a break in a little bit and go try to catch another one, as long as it doesn't go over an hour. Sigh. I can't focus anyway, so it's not as if I am truly accomplishing anything.

I'm sure things could be worse.

I have 24 hours to generate some quality idea(s) for Job 2. I am not
sure what i am going to do there; i may be fucked right now. I took
the kitten to Dr Vet, who named her Cookie, 'cos he said that she's
one tough Cookie. She is FIV/FeLV negative, and had her first round
of whatever vaccine it is that is all letters. She has to have another
one in 3 weeks. But she is healthy. Yay! On the way back, i stopped
with Cookie & Rome (sub-q fluids) at Eviljob to put out food, and
there are 2 black kittens, 1 grey, 2 black tuxes, and 1 tortie. I
counted cos they were all out playing. So i left food, and just don't
know what to do. I know that i am not the only one with cat problems,
but it sure feels like i am. I have to somehow wade through this.
sorry for my sucky typing and abbreviations and all, but i don't feel
like going to start up the puter. So 1, i have to think up something
good that i can't in into a bunch here. Second, i have to somehow make
more time to set a trap out, because i think it's only me doing this,
and Bonnie needs her traps, at least one of them, this weekend, and my
crappo bucket trap hasn't shown up yet. And i STILL do not know what i
am going to do with Cookie, much less any of the others. And i have to
get Mehitabel. Bwaah! I know this is stupid, obsessional, and
perfectionistic of me, but if i just give up, i feel like i am saying
to those babies that they have to die or live in sickness, fear, and
misery because there is no room for them. And that is a sucky thing
to tell someone. There should be room for everyone.

C is for Cookie!

Multimedia message
Originally uploaded by Ancodia.

::writing::

I am alone.

::scratches it out::

I am UTTERLY alone. By the time you read this, I will have jumped…

::scratches it out::

…I will have PLUMMETED off the Winter River Bridge…

Sigh.

The kitten is doing wonderfully, and I think she’s a girl. She’s pooping and peeing and eating like a pig. I will take her to get FeLV/FIV tested soon, if I have a spare minute. I’ve washed her, but she still smells of mackerel. Joy.

It turns out that Chrissy smokes crack; Bonnie was not back with her relatives, she was in some city a little ways away in Zed Zed plural Zed Alpha helping with a cat-hoarding situation.

I hate cat hoarders. I almost hate cat hoarders more than I hate cat killers, because cat hoarders ARE cat killers—they just work more slowly, and *pretend* to be cat lovers.

Butsoanyway; Bonnie came back to find that I took the traps (or, rather, that they were gone), and she phoned Chrissy and Chrissy told her that I took them. So Bonnie phoned me ticked off, but I smoothed it over with her (look, I REALLY didn’t know that I was *actually* stealing them; I was just speculating that I was stealing them, and it turned out that my speculation was correct. I am good at speculating like that).

I have to go to sleep now, but this is so bad, and I feel so depressed and horrible that I could just scream.

Sigh.

.

If i weren't an agnostic, i'd say...

God bless Wildrun for telling me about baby food for ferals. I had to
leave home today, and by the time i came home, it had been almost 24
hours since she had eaten, so i ran out and picked up some chicken and
noodle baby food, and she took right to it--after i gave it via a
dropper-thingy several times. Ok. Now i have to race to accomplish
something by tomorrow. Just shoot me.

No cat-catching today, probably.

I completely forgot that today is Labour Day. I am committed all day,
for the most part. I set up the kitten in a very large carrier i have
(we're talking medium-to-large dog size) with food, water, a bed, and
a litter box. It (i think it's a girl). It would not eat around me. I
hope this is normal. Have to go.

News Flash: Cat bites *hurt*

Okay, so i caught one kitten. I think it's the precocious one. I let
my hand get too close to it, and it bit me right on the knuckle of my
left index finger...and now the right side of my finger tip is
numbish. Sigh. I suppose i need to eventually be vaccinated from
rabies if i'm going to keep doing this shit. I put the trap back out
locked open, and expect that i can at least collect it in the morning,
if not re-set it. Which one is decided by how much i can get done
tonight in terms of work. Augh!

Here goes nothing...

After putting a few stinky bits of food in the trap with the trap not
set, i have just set it for real. I just hope i get more than one. If
i don't, i don't know how i am going to make the time for this later.
I am not trying to sound so depressing, but this is a REALLY BAD time
for all of this, and i *still* don't know what i am going to do with
anyone i catch. Argh.

I like my coffee like i like my women--in a plastic cup.

Well, they're going further into the cage as i am putting the food
further in. I have seen a bunch of cats come to check the feeding
station, but i haven't set out food in the hopes that Mehitabel will
see that her babies are eating and going out again. I am sad to think
of how many little cats here depend upon me. I have to fix this
somehow...christ. I am just cleaning my car and waiting, waiting,
waiting. Oh, and listening to (now that PHC and From The Top are over)
Eddie Izzard's Glorious. After that, probably the soundtrack from
Bells Are Ringing. Sigh. But hopefully i can get at least one kitten.
This is depressing. But one of the black ones (there are about
five--one grey, one black tux, and the rest all black) is MUCH smarter
than the others--he figured out how to get at the food straight off,
and is always the first back in. He inherited his mother's brains!
:-)

Kitten hunt!

My day so far kinda blows. I am out here alone, and i had a good idea
last night, but i can't get a hold of Chrissy to make sure that it is
a good idea--i am putting the trap out a few times open with a little
mackerel in it, so that they don't think it's a trick, and become
accustomed to walking in it. This is going to take a while, i think.
:-/ i hope they figure it out in a few hours.

I'm going to whine for a little bit and then go to bed.

Okay. I am home. I have mackerel, and two Havaheart collapsible traps that I think I might have stolen from Bonnie’s home, but Chrissy said I could borrow them ‘cos Bonnie just bought them, she’s back out of state on family stuff (Bonnie had two deaths in her family practically back-to-back; one was kind-of expected, but the other was not, and one of the deaths leaves her family in a bad situation, not to mention devastated. This is a long story.) and so when I phoned Chrissy, she said to go take the two new traps from Bonnie’s garage, and I am DESPERATE, so I did.

How in the hell could Mehitabel have already had kittens?????????? How? How???

And then I tried to get harry (he does not deserve a capital letter right at the moment) to help me build it, but harry-the-demajusculed couldn’t figure out how to make the hook part and the trip plate part connect together, so he decided that the little loop-part fits into the big loop-part, ‘cos he’s fricking retarded and just got tired of looking at it. Whatever. As long as I can get it to work tomorrow, I don’t give a damn. I gave a better (heh) explanation here. Well, it probably wasn’t a good explanation, but it is all I can muster at the moment.

Ok. I am going to try as hard as I can to quit feeling panicky and get sleep so that I can save a kitty tomorrow.

Yeah. That’s it.

Yeah.

.

Hang in there.

No matter how bad it seems right now.

Yes, I *am* talking to myself. Bite me.

...anybody want a kitten?

.

Stop the insanity!!

Help. I am at the end of my rope. I showed up early at Eviljob, and
my friend in Security told me that i had 'just missed them'. Who?
Mehitabel. And her four kittens. FUCK! She's been hiding from me so
well that i didn't know she was pregnant, even. So i looked where
Donna said they were, and if i hadn't seen it myself, i wouldn't have
believed it. Mehitabel has DUG a HOLE underneath a shrubbery
arrangement, and is keeping her babies in the hole! And it's a deep
hole! And it's not straight--it curves UNDER the shrub! I am AMAZED!
Ok. I am tired of typing on my phone. More later. I have to go buy
mackerel. And cry.