Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Finally
On Monday the fax machine started to complain that its toner was low - Which is a lie. A patent lie! It says its toner is low but what it really means is it's toner is at about at 1/3 full. I hate the fax machine and its foofy, powered toner.
I shouldn't hate it, it's historical , the rumor has it that it was Dorothea Dix' own fax machine. She carried it at Shiloh, it has a little bronze marker and everything. Picturesque sure but it belongs in the Smithsonian not my mail room. On Wednesday the machine finally registered empty of toner, which really means it still has about a quarter of the loose, powered toner left inside - Which allows it to foof all over the place while I'm trying to change out the cartridge. Hate. It.
There is also the added joy that the slide thingy that the cartridge goes on to is broken and it doesn't seal, so it has to be held down with pieces of tape. Sometimes it ends well, i.e, not in clouds of toner and sadness and sometimes it ends in clouds of toner and sadness. Many times it ends in sadness. I hate the fax machine.
Thursday I walked in the door to work and saw that the fax needed to be changed and since I was all ready wearing black I decided that this would be a good time to do the deed. So I did it. Good. I stood back to admire my job and to get the faxes that had piled up since the toner went low - And the faxes tumbled out, with a thick, black oily band down the middle... And I thought The last time there were little lines and that resolved itself. Maybe this will resolve it self. Naive child! Do you know what thick black bands of melty yuck does? They does not resolve! it means something very bad has died and is being eaten by the machine. You can not "resolve" this, for this you have to call service.
Did I mention all this happened at 7:20 am? My boss does not come in at 7:20am. The machine was vomiting bile and I had to fix it myself. Did I also mention that I don't know a lot about getting the fax serviced? My boss knows about how we go about getting it serviced. I know to call my boss and tell her the machine needs to be fixed and she does something and the service guy appears and fixes it. I now know how to get the machine serviced and it is more than just calling service. You have to first call this woman who does all the ordering and then she isn't in so you have to call her boss who Thanks be to Gawd does come to work at 7:20 am and he told me that I have a service contract and I should call the number on the machine and have them come and fix the machine.
Fine. By this time I have touched the machine 276 times and washed my hands 276 times.
But. I can't do anything like that without notifying the boss. I have been instructed that she wants to know about everything. By 8:15am she did know about everything and I called service and asked when the service guy would get there because we get a lot of faxes and it could get ugly. She assured me he would call with his ETA.
His ETA turned out to be 3:30pm. I was hoping he would say it couldn't be fixed, but with these old machines they can almost always be fixed because the old machines are made up of things called "parts" and these "parts" things can be ordered. The machine and its nasty, messy powdered toner will live to fax again. Damn it.
On Monday the fax machine started to complain that its toner was low - Which is a lie. A patent lie! It says its toner is low but what it really means is it's toner is at about at 1/3 full. I hate the fax machine and its foofy, powered toner.
I shouldn't hate it, it's historical , the rumor has it that it was Dorothea Dix' own fax machine. She carried it at Shiloh, it has a little bronze marker and everything. Picturesque sure but it belongs in the Smithsonian not my mail room. On Wednesday the machine finally registered empty of toner, which really means it still has about a quarter of the loose, powered toner left inside - Which allows it to foof all over the place while I'm trying to change out the cartridge. Hate. It.
There is also the added joy that the slide thingy that the cartridge goes on to is broken and it doesn't seal, so it has to be held down with pieces of tape. Sometimes it ends well, i.e, not in clouds of toner and sadness and sometimes it ends in clouds of toner and sadness. Many times it ends in sadness. I hate the fax machine.
Thursday I walked in the door to work and saw that the fax needed to be changed and since I was all ready wearing black I decided that this would be a good time to do the deed. So I did it. Good. I stood back to admire my job and to get the faxes that had piled up since the toner went low - And the faxes tumbled out, with a thick, black oily band down the middle... And I thought The last time there were little lines and that resolved itself. Maybe this will resolve it self. Naive child! Do you know what thick black bands of melty yuck does? They does not resolve! it means something very bad has died and is being eaten by the machine. You can not "resolve" this, for this you have to call service.
Did I mention all this happened at 7:20 am? My boss does not come in at 7:20am. The machine was vomiting bile and I had to fix it myself. Did I also mention that I don't know a lot about getting the fax serviced? My boss knows about how we go about getting it serviced. I know to call my boss and tell her the machine needs to be fixed and she does something and the service guy appears and fixes it. I now know how to get the machine serviced and it is more than just calling service. You have to first call this woman who does all the ordering and then she isn't in so you have to call her boss who Thanks be to Gawd does come to work at 7:20 am and he told me that I have a service contract and I should call the number on the machine and have them come and fix the machine.
Fine. By this time I have touched the machine 276 times and washed my hands 276 times.
But. I can't do anything like that without notifying the boss. I have been instructed that she wants to know about everything. By 8:15am she did know about everything and I called service and asked when the service guy would get there because we get a lot of faxes and it could get ugly. She assured me he would call with his ETA.
His ETA turned out to be 3:30pm. I was hoping he would say it couldn't be fixed, but with these old machines they can almost always be fixed because the old machines are made up of things called "parts" and these "parts" things can be ordered. The machine and its nasty, messy powdered toner will live to fax again. Damn it.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The Secret Life of Cats
Tiny keeps getting new toys. I'm not actually buying any of these toys but they keep showing up. The other day I came in a found him batting around a furry mousie, a nice big furry mousie. And not one of those cheap little ones they sell at the register at the pet store or in bags of six at the grocery . I haven't brought a furry mousie into this house in years! And yet there it was I can't even imagine where Tiny found it and where The Kitty had been storing it all these years. The Kitty was not really down with toys, he would play with things but he almost never got excited about dedicated cat toys. He would play with plastic rings from milk containers, plastic straws, wadded up balls of paper but he wasn't really into store bought cat toys. As far as I knew.
What he relayed to me was that he was into reusing and recycling and buying local. Do you know your average furry mousie travels at the very least 10,000 miles to get to your door? It's outrageous. The Kitty was really horrified by all that. He liked the outside, it made him mad to see it brown.
But anyway. He still had all these toys. I thought I got rid of all his toys a long time ago. I gave them to Mini Kitty when it became obvious that The Kitty had lost interest in such pursuits. He did seem to derive enjoyment from watching his toys while she clearly showed a preference to play with toys instead of watching toys . So bourgeois!
And now Tiny is playing with The Kitty's toys. I'm sure the toys feel very fulfilled now, and somewhere The Kitty is really pissed or maybe he's happy that someone is using them, maybe he guided Tiny to find them. I mean, The Kitty must have felt something for these toys or he wouldn't have hidden them and saved them from my good intentions. I should study the toys he unearths now, see what was so special about it that The Kitty intentionally hid it and the others away. Was he afraid I was going to take them away as well? Could he know that I gave his stuff away? Did I make him bitter? More bitter? Bitterer?
Some of the toys Tiny finds I remember, but there are others that I think The Kitty bought himself - perhaps online while I was at work. I should have studied my bills more closely.
Tiny for his part plays with everything, he doesn't require specially designed cat toys to entertain him. In that regard he takes after The Kitty, but at the same time, he seems to really relish the furry mousie and the other store bought toys he's unearthing upstairs while I'm at work.
I don't remember The Kitty playing with anything upstairs, he slept upstairs, he looked out the windows and curled up on the cat tree but I don't recall him scurrying around chasing stuff or doing much scurrying at all. During the day he must have been a crazy person! Why didn't he want me to know this side of him? The playful side, the scurrying side? Did he think this side of him would disappoint me? Did he not want me to think of him as a scurrying cat as a cat that could have fun? He was a fun cat, he was way too young to be the cranky old man persona he presented to the world. But gawd! what a cuddler! Tiny is a cutie, but he's years away from the level of cuddleosity that The Kitty had. He was such a good cat.
The Kitty was a great kitten too - When he wasn't throwing himself at my door all night keeping me awake or his daytime pursuit - smashing crockery to bully me into feeding him. But in a really cute way! In the sweetest, fluffy-est way possible. He did it out of love. He was hungry and he couldn't talk. My little baby kitty! I really miss him. Tiny is awfully sweet too but so far he hasn't tried to communicate with me. I might try to teach him sign language, its a lot quieter and less destructive then smashing breakables.
Tiny keeps getting new toys. I'm not actually buying any of these toys but they keep showing up. The other day I came in a found him batting around a furry mousie, a nice big furry mousie. And not one of those cheap little ones they sell at the register at the pet store or in bags of six at the grocery . I haven't brought a furry mousie into this house in years! And yet there it was I can't even imagine where Tiny found it and where The Kitty had been storing it all these years. The Kitty was not really down with toys, he would play with things but he almost never got excited about dedicated cat toys. He would play with plastic rings from milk containers, plastic straws, wadded up balls of paper but he wasn't really into store bought cat toys. As far as I knew.
What he relayed to me was that he was into reusing and recycling and buying local. Do you know your average furry mousie travels at the very least 10,000 miles to get to your door? It's outrageous. The Kitty was really horrified by all that. He liked the outside, it made him mad to see it brown.
But anyway. He still had all these toys. I thought I got rid of all his toys a long time ago. I gave them to Mini Kitty when it became obvious that The Kitty had lost interest in such pursuits. He did seem to derive enjoyment from watching his toys while she clearly showed a preference to play with toys instead of watching toys . So bourgeois!
And now Tiny is playing with The Kitty's toys. I'm sure the toys feel very fulfilled now, and somewhere The Kitty is really pissed or maybe he's happy that someone is using them, maybe he guided Tiny to find them. I mean, The Kitty must have felt something for these toys or he wouldn't have hidden them and saved them from my good intentions. I should study the toys he unearths now, see what was so special about it that The Kitty intentionally hid it and the others away. Was he afraid I was going to take them away as well? Could he know that I gave his stuff away? Did I make him bitter? More bitter? Bitterer?
Some of the toys Tiny finds I remember, but there are others that I think The Kitty bought himself - perhaps online while I was at work. I should have studied my bills more closely.
Tiny for his part plays with everything, he doesn't require specially designed cat toys to entertain him. In that regard he takes after The Kitty, but at the same time, he seems to really relish the furry mousie and the other store bought toys he's unearthing upstairs while I'm at work.
I don't remember The Kitty playing with anything upstairs, he slept upstairs, he looked out the windows and curled up on the cat tree but I don't recall him scurrying around chasing stuff or doing much scurrying at all. During the day he must have been a crazy person! Why didn't he want me to know this side of him? The playful side, the scurrying side? Did he think this side of him would disappoint me? Did he not want me to think of him as a scurrying cat as a cat that could have fun? He was a fun cat, he was way too young to be the cranky old man persona he presented to the world. But gawd! what a cuddler! Tiny is a cutie, but he's years away from the level of cuddleosity that The Kitty had. He was such a good cat.
The Kitty was a great kitten too - When he wasn't throwing himself at my door all night keeping me awake or his daytime pursuit - smashing crockery to bully me into feeding him. But in a really cute way! In the sweetest, fluffy-est way possible. He did it out of love. He was hungry and he couldn't talk. My little baby kitty! I really miss him. Tiny is awfully sweet too but so far he hasn't tried to communicate with me. I might try to teach him sign language, its a lot quieter and less destructive then smashing breakables.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Yay! Wednesday!
I think Dogger wishes she could sit on my shoulder, I see her watching Tiny perched on my shoulder and she just looks wistful and big very, very big. She has never looked so large. She’s a big dog, I can forget that sometimes, especially as I am not walking her as much I see fewer, other, smaller dogs. On her own she could maybe pass for a golden, until you see a real golden and Dogger looks more like a Rot, until you see a real Rot and Dogger looks more like a pony. A short pony. My little baby puppy pony.
Tiny curled up in a cat ball on my shoulder and I heard Dogger sigh deeply. I’ve told her that I love her just the way she is but she knows she’s never rode around on my shoulder and it makes her uneasy about her role now. She didn’t have these issues with The Kitty because he never rode around on my shoulder either as well as she was the beta from the get go and she was okay with that, she was at the bottom of the totem pole as a puppy in the yard and she made the transition from that pack to The Kitty’s pack without any problem. Now? For the first time in her entire life she has seniority. She’s very conflicted, she wants to love Tiny unconditionally but she also wants Tiny to know his place as she knew hers.
Apropos of nothing, is right now a good time to be releasing a movie called Confessions of a Shopaholic? This morning the front page of my local paper had in 72 point type 47 THOUSAND JOBS LOST . If I was the movie studio I think I would quietly pull this film and shelve it for the time being. I think a movie about the joys of responsibly-free profligate spending might not strike the same cord as it did when it was green-lit a year and a half ago. Now? This movie is in really bad taste. I read one of the The Shopaholic books and I hated her in print , I can only imagine how much I would loathe her in celluloid. She never shopped at Big Lotts!
Unless they make her some sort of example of bad judgement and poor choices and wastefulness. It would be great if they could CGI a McCain/Palin button on her just to bring home what a brain dead ninny the character is. Or they could play it like a “Once upon a time in a land far, far away...” vibe, maybe tint everything sepia.
Oh! apropos of nothing pt. 2! Monday I was driving back from lunch and I saw this van and I idly read the writing on it and it said Sedaris Floors , SEDARIS! It was The Rooster! He’s a flooring guy! I’ve read about him in David Sedaris’ books! And there was his van with Sedaris and some crazy looking cartoon flooring guy emblazoned across the side. I was thrilled! It was like a brush with a brush with celebrity. I was really excited . I knew he was a real person and everything and the family grew up in Raleigh and that some of the family still lives here but it was still kind of wild. I kind of thought the flooring thing was a cover for what he really did, like roofing or house painting or something. If I had flooring needs I could hire him to do it! And then I could say that the floors were done by David and Amy Sedaris brother! I wonder if that would affect re-sale someday? You know, newish roof, finished attic, new HVAC, no drug dealers in airspace, floors by Amy Sedaris, author, frequent guest on Letterman and David, author, NPR contributor’s younger brother!, from his books! The Rooster! . I would pay more, hey, if the people who remodeled the drug dealers house and its sump-pump-free, flood prone basement actually get $191,900 for the house? I may not have to re-finish the floors all! I’d just put a sign in the yard saying Buy Me! My basement pumps itself out!
I think Dogger wishes she could sit on my shoulder, I see her watching Tiny perched on my shoulder and she just looks wistful and big very, very big. She has never looked so large. She’s a big dog, I can forget that sometimes, especially as I am not walking her as much I see fewer, other, smaller dogs. On her own she could maybe pass for a golden, until you see a real golden and Dogger looks more like a Rot, until you see a real Rot and Dogger looks more like a pony. A short pony. My little baby puppy pony.
Tiny curled up in a cat ball on my shoulder and I heard Dogger sigh deeply. I’ve told her that I love her just the way she is but she knows she’s never rode around on my shoulder and it makes her uneasy about her role now. She didn’t have these issues with The Kitty because he never rode around on my shoulder either as well as she was the beta from the get go and she was okay with that, she was at the bottom of the totem pole as a puppy in the yard and she made the transition from that pack to The Kitty’s pack without any problem. Now? For the first time in her entire life she has seniority. She’s very conflicted, she wants to love Tiny unconditionally but she also wants Tiny to know his place as she knew hers.
Unless they make her some sort of example of bad judgement and poor choices and wastefulness. It would be great if they could CGI a McCain/Palin button on her just to bring home what a brain dead ninny the character is. Or they could play it like a “Once upon a time in a land far, far away...” vibe, maybe tint everything sepia.
Oh! apropos of nothing pt. 2! Monday I was driving back from lunch and I saw this van and I idly read the writing on it and it said Sedaris Floors , SEDARIS! It was The Rooster! He’s a flooring guy! I’ve read about him in David Sedaris’ books! And there was his van with Sedaris and some crazy looking cartoon flooring guy emblazoned across the side. I was thrilled! It was like a brush with a brush with celebrity. I was really excited . I knew he was a real person and everything and the family grew up in Raleigh and that some of the family still lives here but it was still kind of wild. I kind of thought the flooring thing was a cover for what he really did, like roofing or house painting or something. If I had flooring needs I could hire him to do it! And then I could say that the floors were done by David and Amy Sedaris brother! I wonder if that would affect re-sale someday? You know, newish roof, finished attic, new HVAC, no drug dealers in airspace, floors by Amy Sedaris, author, frequent guest on Letterman and David, author, NPR contributor’s younger brother!, from his books! The Rooster! . I would pay more, hey, if the people who remodeled the drug dealers house and its sump-pump-free, flood prone basement actually get $191,900 for the house? I may not have to re-finish the floors all! I’d just put a sign in the yard saying Buy Me! My basement pumps itself out!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Citibank discovers that there is a new sheriff in town and he takes no shit from nobody
No. No $50 million dollar plane for you. Not Yours.
The times they are a-changing...
No. No $50 million dollar plane for you. Not Yours.
The times they are a-changing...
Not ready for basic cable
Tiny is feeling much better. He isn’t sneezing as much and his eye isn’t dripping like it was. He seems to be trying to blow his nose but other than that, he seems better.
I was going to get a bunch of stuff done after I came home from work but then there were these TV shows I had to watch. I could watch House or a two week old taped Bones, or Mama Mia. I had to set my priorities. House was really good.
Then came the TV show I did not need to watch. A rerun, frankly, a bad rerun of a not very good show. I like My First Place as much as the next guy but after awhile I begin to really think those FIRST TIME BUYERS - Always in caps. I wasn’t like that when I was a first time buyer. I wasn’t in caps at all. I don’t even think I ever referred to myself as a “first time buyer”. The people on the show stop being teachers or accountants or IT people - They are A FIRST TIME BUYER.
What I really don’t understand is why people who have been living in a closet all of sudden are finding 400 square foot master bedrooms a “little small” or finding a master bath that could fit an Olympic sized pool “tight”. Oh, and the need for enough bedrooms to start their own boarding school. The FTB is almost always either a single woman or a childless couple and everyone “needs” four or five bedrooms, a finished basement, and a gourmet kitchen with metallic appliances and a huge space for “entertaining”. Who entertains? Who entertains that much or knows that many people? Back in the day people must have had no friends and never entertained them. Oh, wait, they invented cocktail parties and coffee klatches in those little houses. They managed.
Why are cathedral ceilings a good thing? Impossible to paint, expensive to heat and cool and a complete waste of space and every time one of these FTB walks into a two story entry way they orgasm. As for the rest of the house, Gawd forbid they are faced with wall-to-wall carpeting or a counter top that isn’t granite. Mr. and Mrs. FTB live in a piano box and suddenly they find laminate to be beneath them. There are two of these shows, I think the more obnoxious of the two is on TLC but the HGTV one holds it's own.
When I was looking for a house I’m pretty sure I was really turned on by things like fenced yards, central air and a lack of bullet holes. If I walked into a house and the dishwasher was in the kitchen where it belonged ( I wasn’t even going to look at a house without a dishwasher until I looked at a house without a kitchen sink) and I didn’t notice any SWAT team members milling around and there wasn’t a noticeable scent of dead possum in the walls I put an offer on it. Not a whole lot of drama, okay there was a little drama. I fell in love but did not settle down with an adorable dis-used grocery store three feet off a busy road with the primary living space in the basement and it was kind of dark and it needed about a $135,000 worth of work to rehab it on top of the asking price but it had a great kitchen for entertaining...
Tiny is feeling much better. He isn’t sneezing as much and his eye isn’t dripping like it was. He seems to be trying to blow his nose but other than that, he seems better.
I was going to get a bunch of stuff done after I came home from work but then there were these TV shows I had to watch. I could watch House or a two week old taped Bones, or Mama Mia. I had to set my priorities. House was really good.
Then came the TV show I did not need to watch. A rerun, frankly, a bad rerun of a not very good show. I like My First Place as much as the next guy but after awhile I begin to really think those FIRST TIME BUYERS - Always in caps. I wasn’t like that when I was a first time buyer. I wasn’t in caps at all. I don’t even think I ever referred to myself as a “first time buyer”. The people on the show stop being teachers or accountants or IT people - They are A FIRST TIME BUYER.
What I really don’t understand is why people who have been living in a closet all of sudden are finding 400 square foot master bedrooms a “little small” or finding a master bath that could fit an Olympic sized pool “tight”. Oh, and the need for enough bedrooms to start their own boarding school. The FTB is almost always either a single woman or a childless couple and everyone “needs” four or five bedrooms, a finished basement, and a gourmet kitchen with metallic appliances and a huge space for “entertaining”. Who entertains? Who entertains that much or knows that many people? Back in the day people must have had no friends and never entertained them. Oh, wait, they invented cocktail parties and coffee klatches in those little houses. They managed.
Why are cathedral ceilings a good thing? Impossible to paint, expensive to heat and cool and a complete waste of space and every time one of these FTB walks into a two story entry way they orgasm. As for the rest of the house, Gawd forbid they are faced with wall-to-wall carpeting or a counter top that isn’t granite. Mr. and Mrs. FTB live in a piano box and suddenly they find laminate to be beneath them. There are two of these shows, I think the more obnoxious of the two is on TLC but the HGTV one holds it's own.
When I was looking for a house I’m pretty sure I was really turned on by things like fenced yards, central air and a lack of bullet holes. If I walked into a house and the dishwasher was in the kitchen where it belonged ( I wasn’t even going to look at a house without a dishwasher until I looked at a house without a kitchen sink) and I didn’t notice any SWAT team members milling around and there wasn’t a noticeable scent of dead possum in the walls I put an offer on it. Not a whole lot of drama, okay there was a little drama. I fell in love but did not settle down with an adorable dis-used grocery store three feet off a busy road with the primary living space in the basement and it was kind of dark and it needed about a $135,000 worth of work to rehab it on top of the asking price but it had a great kitchen for entertaining...
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sick-O
There is no page in the baby book for Baby's second visit to the doctors office. At the first vet appointment she pointed out that about 95 percent of animals from shelters have some sort of upper-respiratory issues. Wow!I thought. It rawks to be part of the five percent! Tiny is so awesome.
Yeah. Well. Tiny is awesome he just doesn't rawk 5 percent style and you know what the vet gave me? Another syringe. Just what I wanted. True, it is a tiny syringe. Now I get to have syringe feeding PTSD twice a day for the next ten days. I also have some eye cream to deposit in both eyes three times a day plus some nummy nutrient jell to feed him twice a day! It's so much fun I can't stand it. Fortunately, he seems to have no short term memory whatsoever. Three times a day I;m like Hey! Guess what! Nummy antibiotic! Yay! Eye goop! Wheee! Gel-food! and he's all Mow?
Sigh.
I also go other things done. I finally put the tree away - Hey. don't judge me, it's a pre-lit tree! You can't just put them away! ... Okay. You can. You put it in its bag, which by the way could house a family of four in a pinch. I didn't know! I was pretty much going to leave it in the corner of the room and pretend it was a ficus. A really full ficus.
It had to go though. Ficus' are out of season.
I went with Broskey and Alphagal to a neato resale/collectible/antique store out in the sticks to go look at dressers. They bought two and I bought this
As for Tiny. After two days of being treated he isn't sneezing as much as he was but he sounds like he has a bunch of flem happening. Ick. Right now, sans ick, he's perched himself on my shoulder like a furry parrot. Tex has been gone 20 days.
There is no page in the baby book for Baby's second visit to the doctors office. At the first vet appointment she pointed out that about 95 percent of animals from shelters have some sort of upper-respiratory issues. Wow!I thought. It rawks to be part of the five percent! Tiny is so awesome.
Yeah. Well. Tiny is awesome he just doesn't rawk 5 percent style and you know what the vet gave me? Another syringe. Just what I wanted. True, it is a tiny syringe. Now I get to have syringe feeding PTSD twice a day for the next ten days. I also have some eye cream to deposit in both eyes three times a day plus some nummy nutrient jell to feed him twice a day! It's so much fun I can't stand it. Fortunately, he seems to have no short term memory whatsoever. Three times a day I;m like Hey! Guess what! Nummy antibiotic! Yay! Eye goop! Wheee! Gel-food! and he's all Mow?
Sigh.
I also go other things done. I finally put the tree away - Hey. don't judge me, it's a pre-lit tree! You can't just put them away! ... Okay. You can. You put it in its bag, which by the way could house a family of four in a pinch. I didn't know! I was pretty much going to leave it in the corner of the room and pretend it was a ficus. A really full ficus.
It had to go though. Ficus' are out of season.
I went with Broskey and Alphagal to a neato resale/collectible/antique store out in the sticks to go look at dressers. They bought two and I bought this
Once upon a time it was a chair. Times change and the world needs one less chair so somebody somewhere along the line turned it into a stool. I think ultimately, I'm going to try to find an chair or rocker that needs a new-old seat. I think a small rocker would be nice in that corner. At present it looks like this
I think it would be also a good time to do "something" with that chair. I rescued it from the trash with the idea that I was going to tart it up somehow. Instead of a rocker or a new chair, I could stain the chair to match or maybe go the other way and paint it gold or turn it into Josephs' chair of many colors or a mosaic chair... I have some ideas
As for Tiny. After two days of being treated he isn't sneezing as much as he was but he sounds like he has a bunch of flem happening. Ick. Right now, sans ick, he's perched himself on my shoulder like a furry parrot. Tex has been gone 20 days.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Oscar Nominations 2009
Best Picture
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"
"Frost/Nixon" (Universal)
"Milk" (Focus Features)
"The Reader" (The Weinstein Company)
"Slumdog Millionaire" (Fox Searchlight)
Performance by an actor in a leading role
Richard Jenkins in "The Visitor" (Overture Films)
Frank Langella in "Frost/Nixon" (Universal)
Sean Penn in "Milk" (Focus Features)
Brad Pitt in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
Mickey Rourke in "The Wrestler" (Fox Searchlight)
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Josh Brolin in "Milk" (Focus Features)
Robert Downey Jr. in "Tropic Thunder" (DreamWorks, Distributed by DreamWorks/Paramount)
Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Heath Ledger in "The Dark Knight" (Warner Bros.)
Michael Shannon in "Revolutionary Road" (DreamWorks, Distributed by Paramount Vantage)
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Anne Hathaway in "Rachel Getting Married" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Angelina Jolie in "Changeling" (Universal)
Melissa Leo in "Frozen River" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Meryl Streep in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Kate Winslet in "The Reader" (The Weinstein Company)
Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Amy Adams in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Penélope Cruz in "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" (The Weinstein Company)
Viola Davis in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Taraji P. Henson in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
Marisa Tomei in "The Wrestler" (Fox Searchlight)
Full list of Nominees
Best Picture
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"
"Frost/Nixon" (Universal)
"Milk" (Focus Features)
"The Reader" (The Weinstein Company)
"Slumdog Millionaire" (Fox Searchlight)
Performance by an actor in a leading role
Richard Jenkins in "The Visitor" (Overture Films)
Frank Langella in "Frost/Nixon" (Universal)
Sean Penn in "Milk" (Focus Features)
Brad Pitt in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
Mickey Rourke in "The Wrestler" (Fox Searchlight)
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Josh Brolin in "Milk" (Focus Features)
Robert Downey Jr. in "Tropic Thunder" (DreamWorks, Distributed by DreamWorks/Paramount)
Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Heath Ledger in "The Dark Knight" (Warner Bros.)
Michael Shannon in "Revolutionary Road" (DreamWorks, Distributed by Paramount Vantage)
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Anne Hathaway in "Rachel Getting Married" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Angelina Jolie in "Changeling" (Universal)
Melissa Leo in "Frozen River" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Meryl Streep in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Kate Winslet in "The Reader" (The Weinstein Company)
Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Amy Adams in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Penélope Cruz in "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" (The Weinstein Company)
Viola Davis in "Doubt" (Miramax)
Taraji P. Henson in "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
Marisa Tomei in "The Wrestler" (Fox Searchlight)
Full list of Nominees
The Newby
With all the excitement and snow I forgot that I had an announcement!
On Saturday, I went out to check out shelters. I was going to breeze in and breeze out because my heart wasn't completely into it and I understood that kittens are out of season right now. I went as part of my continuing Keep Busy! campaign and the fact that my grief counselor was going home the next day and Dogger was way behind on her purring coursework
There was a Tex shaped hole in my chest and it hurt.
I was not going back to Garner and their Sheltermahal , which is a pity, because they had a lot of kittens there and the facilities are fabulous, I have also in the past really liked going in there and visiting with the animals. I wonder if I should write someone a letter?
To Whom it May Concern:
I came to your lovely facility looking for a kitten. I have been in the past a semi-frequent visitor and I enjoyed playing with the animals. My eleven year old cat recently passed on and I wanted to see if I was ready for a new companion. I just wanted to visit with the kittens that were available and I was not, as far as I was concerned, going to be adopting an animal on that day. I had thought I could just see the cats to see where I was in the healing process.
Instead I had to fill out a sheaf of papers and then had to defend my opinions on pet care with a hostile, agenda driven volunteer before I was even allowed to see the kittens. I might suggest that Wake County and the City of Garner do more frequent customer service training, more closely supervise your volunteers and perhaps step up your screening process and maybe introduce a psych eval component with your prospective volunteers.
As a pet adoption candidate, I felt the pre-visit inquisition was presumptive as well as counter-productive. I might have understood such a conversation if I had found my animal companion but even then, I do not see that snidely accusing the pool of potential adopters of wantonly participating in kitten torture is be the best way of getting animals out of the shelter and into "forever homes" .
I did finally get to see the kittens, but after my run in with the Gran Inquisitor, I was so wounded and upset I really was no longer in the frame of mind to properly visit with the kittens. I was also afraid that if I did find a kitten I did find a connection with, that I would have to spend more time with that girl and her PETA scripted vitriol and I couldn't face more of that abuse. Perhaps if I did not feel so violated by my interview I may have found my kitten companion.
The good news is, a week later I went to another much less homey and inviting shelter and was able to give a homeless animal a forever home and no one accused me of vivisection.
Sincerely,
Diana
No one can take Tex's' place in my heart, and the hole he left will never be filled but I did find a new friend who can take up some of the space.
With all the excitement and snow I forgot that I had an announcement!
On Saturday, I went out to check out shelters. I was going to breeze in and breeze out because my heart wasn't completely into it and I understood that kittens are out of season right now. I went as part of my continuing Keep Busy! campaign and the fact that my grief counselor was going home the next day and Dogger was way behind on her purring coursework
There was a Tex shaped hole in my chest and it hurt.
I was not going back to Garner and their Sheltermahal , which is a pity, because they had a lot of kittens there and the facilities are fabulous, I have also in the past really liked going in there and visiting with the animals. I wonder if I should write someone a letter?
To Whom it May Concern:
I came to your lovely facility looking for a kitten. I have been in the past a semi-frequent visitor and I enjoyed playing with the animals. My eleven year old cat recently passed on and I wanted to see if I was ready for a new companion. I just wanted to visit with the kittens that were available and I was not, as far as I was concerned, going to be adopting an animal on that day. I had thought I could just see the cats to see where I was in the healing process.
Instead I had to fill out a sheaf of papers and then had to defend my opinions on pet care with a hostile, agenda driven volunteer before I was even allowed to see the kittens. I might suggest that Wake County and the City of Garner do more frequent customer service training, more closely supervise your volunteers and perhaps step up your screening process and maybe introduce a psych eval component with your prospective volunteers.
As a pet adoption candidate, I felt the pre-visit inquisition was presumptive as well as counter-productive. I might have understood such a conversation if I had found my animal companion but even then, I do not see that snidely accusing the pool of potential adopters of wantonly participating in kitten torture is be the best way of getting animals out of the shelter and into "forever homes" .
I did finally get to see the kittens, but after my run in with the Gran Inquisitor, I was so wounded and upset I really was no longer in the frame of mind to properly visit with the kittens. I was also afraid that if I did find a kitten I did find a connection with, that I would have to spend more time with that girl and her PETA scripted vitriol and I couldn't face more of that abuse. Perhaps if I did not feel so violated by my interview I may have found my kitten companion.
The good news is, a week later I went to another much less homey and inviting shelter and was able to give a homeless animal a forever home and no one accused me of vivisection.
Sincerely,
Diana
No one can take Tex's' place in my heart, and the hole he left will never be filled but I did find a new friend who can take up some of the space.
His name is Ace and he is the cutest, sweetest little baby kitten evah. He's so tiny and I have socks that weigh more than he does. I didn't want to get another tuxedo kitty after Tex, but there he was! I tried to visit with a little marmie kitten a few cages over, but she screamed the whole time I was trying to hold her. When I went to his cage he jumped into my arms and purred. I didn't put him down all weekend. He's happy all the time and the whole world is his toy box. Even his little poo is cute.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Oh What Beautiful Morning! Oh What a Beautiful Day! Everything’s Coming Up Roses Everything's Going My Way!
I imagine that I’ll have the best nights sleep I’ve had in the last eight years. You never knew what that jackass was going to do when no one was watching. I woke up every morning for eight years with a feeling of foreboding. But tonight! I should sleep the sleep of the confident that their president isn’t going to strip them of their remaining civil rights or start any new wars over night. You wake up to business as usual and you go to sleep in a brand new world! I have all this happy and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m filed with a child’s drawing of the sun! I feel all orange and happy and smiley. I feel like painting the exterior of my house with finger paints or maybe turning my driveway into the worlds largest mosaic... Which I would totally do, but for the five inches of snow in my driveway, which throws a bit of a wrench into my joy induced curb appeal campaign. But it is really pretty snow.
As it turned out I didn’t watch the inauguration at either McDonald's or the Chinese place. I watched it in the comfort of my own living room. Gawd sent the storm to make sure we didn’t have to make any hard decisions about keeping our jobs or witnessing history being made. That was nice of Him.
President Barack Obama, it just seems not real, like it’s some sort of fantasy that I spent the last two years not really letting myself fully indulge in. Sure, I bought the buttons and I went to the rallies and knocked on doors and donated cash and finally, cast my vote but I never really believed it would happen. I did what I thought I should do, I did what came naturally. I was raised right so I have the desire to do the right thing, as most of us who were, do; But sometimes it doesn't matter how much you want to do the right thing, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and doing the right thing doesn’t always guarantee a positive outcome for you. The bad guys always seem to finish first. You do right because it is right, not because you are expecting a reward. The good guys don’t always win and right isn’t always rewarded. In fact, most of the time doing the right thing gets you a boot to the head for your trouble.
No Morning Boot To The Head! OMG! A reward for doing the right thing! The good guys won! The bad guy went away. A mythical re-set button got pushed! Wednesday we will wake up in a new world.
It even snowed and made everything pretty for us. Snow Day
I imagine that I’ll have the best nights sleep I’ve had in the last eight years. You never knew what that jackass was going to do when no one was watching. I woke up every morning for eight years with a feeling of foreboding. But tonight! I should sleep the sleep of the confident that their president isn’t going to strip them of their remaining civil rights or start any new wars over night. You wake up to business as usual and you go to sleep in a brand new world! I have all this happy and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m filed with a child’s drawing of the sun! I feel all orange and happy and smiley. I feel like painting the exterior of my house with finger paints or maybe turning my driveway into the worlds largest mosaic... Which I would totally do, but for the five inches of snow in my driveway, which throws a bit of a wrench into my joy induced curb appeal campaign. But it is really pretty snow.
As it turned out I didn’t watch the inauguration at either McDonald's or the Chinese place. I watched it in the comfort of my own living room. Gawd sent the storm to make sure we didn’t have to make any hard decisions about keeping our jobs or witnessing history being made. That was nice of Him.
President Barack Obama, it just seems not real, like it’s some sort of fantasy that I spent the last two years not really letting myself fully indulge in. Sure, I bought the buttons and I went to the rallies and knocked on doors and donated cash and finally, cast my vote but I never really believed it would happen. I did what I thought I should do, I did what came naturally. I was raised right so I have the desire to do the right thing, as most of us who were, do; But sometimes it doesn't matter how much you want to do the right thing, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and doing the right thing doesn’t always guarantee a positive outcome for you. The bad guys always seem to finish first. You do right because it is right, not because you are expecting a reward. The good guys don’t always win and right isn’t always rewarded. In fact, most of the time doing the right thing gets you a boot to the head for your trouble.
No Morning Boot To The Head! OMG! A reward for doing the right thing! The good guys won! The bad guy went away. A mythical re-set button got pushed! Wednesday we will wake up in a new world.
It even snowed and made everything pretty for us. Snow Day
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
TODAY WE OFFICIALLY MOVE INTO THE FUTURE
Jeremiah was a bullfrog
Was a good friend of mine
I never understood a single word he said
But I helped him a-drink his wine
And he always had some mighty fine wine
Singin'...
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
If I were the king of the world
Tell you what I'd do
I'd throw away the cars and the bars and the war
Make sweet love to you
You know I love the ladies
Love to have my fun
I'm a high life flyer and a rainbow rider
A straight shootin' son-of-a-gun
I said a straight shootin' son-of-a-gun
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
I wanna tell you
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
(fading)
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
(Okay, he lives only in the past)
Monday, January 19, 2009
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Regrets? I have a few
I really wish I had stood firm and made arrangements to get to DC for the inauguration. I should have just said I've done the DC trip before by myself and I'm a big girl, a forty-year-old woman for Gawds sake and I want to go! I should have stood firm. I've been to DC by myself before, four times. Sure, it was with comparatively smaller crowds of 300,000 or less but hey, over 100,000 its just a big crowd and I know the drill. Carpe History.
It wouldn't matter that I wasn't going to see anything but the 1,250,000 people in front of me and the 450,000 people behind me but I would be part of it! and I could always say that I was there!. It's history and how often do you get to be a witness to history? And not sad history either, happy history. Good history, the kind of history you can look back on and be excited about. When Tiny E's kids are learning about it in history I could say Yeah. I was there! It was awesome!, I could have helped them get extra credit! As it is I haven't figured out how I'm going to be able to watch it at all period. I'm pretty sure they aren't going to set up big screens in the "lobby" of my building. It would be really cool but it ain't gonna happen. I'm not even really sure what time it starts - I've heard a lot about 11am but I'm not sure if that's when the pre-show starts or the headliner hits the stage. If I'm going to have to take time off from work to stand around some random place to watch history happen, I don't want to spend it watching on a warm up band.
I'm going to end up witnessing history at a random fast food joint. Man, that just makes me sad. I have done some food places-with-TVs research and so I know of a decent Chinese place with two screens and a McDonald's with a number of screens and of course I am of course going to tape it but still, its just not right! The idea of witnessing what will probably be the most significant moment in history during my lifetime at a McDonald's just kind of depresses me.
Oh, and I never asked off because I kept waiting for some event to happen for me to go to, you know, I would magically grow some plans for the day or something and I never did. I might still take a really long lunch but it's not the same thing. I really should have bought a bus ticket when I first searched online the day after the election and found a whole bunch of buses leaving Raleigh. I should be on one but no I let myself be talked out of it and that's a regret. I should have just said Its' going to be Cold? I have ski pants! Big, scary crowds? Phht! Long, hard day? HISTORY! and just did it, hauled off and did it. When you have a chance to wittness history? Don't have to wittness it at a McDonalds, just get on a damn bus.
I really wish I had stood firm and made arrangements to get to DC for the inauguration. I should have just said I've done the DC trip before by myself and I'm a big girl, a forty-year-old woman for Gawds sake and I want to go! I should have stood firm. I've been to DC by myself before, four times. Sure, it was with comparatively smaller crowds of 300,000 or less but hey, over 100,000 its just a big crowd and I know the drill. Carpe History.
It wouldn't matter that I wasn't going to see anything but the 1,250,000 people in front of me and the 450,000 people behind me but I would be part of it! and I could always say that I was there!. It's history and how often do you get to be a witness to history? And not sad history either, happy history. Good history, the kind of history you can look back on and be excited about. When Tiny E's kids are learning about it in history I could say Yeah. I was there! It was awesome!, I could have helped them get extra credit! As it is I haven't figured out how I'm going to be able to watch it at all period. I'm pretty sure they aren't going to set up big screens in the "lobby" of my building. It would be really cool but it ain't gonna happen. I'm not even really sure what time it starts - I've heard a lot about 11am but I'm not sure if that's when the pre-show starts or the headliner hits the stage. If I'm going to have to take time off from work to stand around some random place to watch history happen, I don't want to spend it watching on a warm up band.
I'm going to end up witnessing history at a random fast food joint. Man, that just makes me sad. I have done some food places-with-TVs research and so I know of a decent Chinese place with two screens and a McDonald's with a number of screens and of course I am of course going to tape it but still, its just not right! The idea of witnessing what will probably be the most significant moment in history during my lifetime at a McDonald's just kind of depresses me.
Oh, and I never asked off because I kept waiting for some event to happen for me to go to, you know, I would magically grow some plans for the day or something and I never did. I might still take a really long lunch but it's not the same thing. I really should have bought a bus ticket when I first searched online the day after the election and found a whole bunch of buses leaving Raleigh. I should be on one but no I let myself be talked out of it and that's a regret. I should have just said Its' going to be Cold? I have ski pants! Big, scary crowds? Phht! Long, hard day? HISTORY! and just did it, hauled off and did it. When you have a chance to wittness history? Don't have to wittness it at a McDonalds, just get on a damn bus.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Hello Darkness, Now go away.
You know what I'm tired of? Darkness. I am tired of it being dark all the damn time. I get up and its dark, I got to work and its dark. I go to lunch and for an hour a day its light then I go home and its dark again. I'm tired of it being dark all the time.
Whats wrong with daylight savings? Do we run up a debt over the summer and we have to spend the winter paying it back? I'm sorry, but you and your hemisphere have reached your limit. We only make a certain amount of light you know, don't be piggy. If you have adequate light in February you can't have light in July! It's a matter of setting your priorities, for instance, it's too cold to be outside in February! What would you do with the light anyway? Save it for July when you want to walk to the ice cream place at 8:30! We believe that you need those four months of darkness! We think of it as a character building exercise. If you read the small print in your explanation of benefits you would know this.
It's important that it be dark at mid-afternoon in the winter? It would kill us if it was light at 5:30pm? Earlier if you live further north, if you live way up north its dark at 3pm. Because if it was still light 4pm there would be wrong? True, over the summer way up north its light at 10pm all summer but still. It's not like there is a Light Bank that needs to be built up. Why can't we keep daylight savings all year? I understand about the sun and the moon and how far away A is from B and all of that, but it has to be federally regulated that we can't have it light in the evening? Really?
I had to take Dogger out to pee. It was dark. It's always dark. I take her out at 6am, its dark. I take her out at 6pm, it's dark. It's dark all the time.
Sigh.
I would have started this entry earlier but Mini Kitty pinned me to my chair and forced me to curl up under a blanket and fall asleep. I came home from work and I was starved, so I made dinner and it was still early and I said Hmm. I'll watch my little TV show and then I'll do something. Maybe I'll cure cancer and then I'll take a shower. But. No cure for cancer. I was watching my little TV show and Mini Kitty jumped up and started head butting and biscuit making and she curled up and time passed and I pulled her up and she didn't freak out like she is want to do and there she was purring and warm and cozy and then the next thing I know its an hour later and I've got nothing done. Cancer not cured.
Mini Kitty staying with me has been a godsend. If she wasn't here I would have had to go cat cold turkey and I would be spending a lot of time in a fetal position under the table. I could make Dogger into a Kitty - Before I had Dogger, I spent years trying to turn The Kitty into a dog! I did a good job too! He was huge for a cat, he walked on a leash, he acted as a guard cat and he loved riding in the car. If I could have figured out a way I would have trained him to bark. I just don't have the energy or the time to try to teach Dogger to meow. I need a new cat and I need to narrow down the field before Mini goes home on Sunday because I am not going to be happy catless. I may have to find Dogger a cat costume,
You know what I'm tired of? Darkness. I am tired of it being dark all the damn time. I get up and its dark, I got to work and its dark. I go to lunch and for an hour a day its light then I go home and its dark again. I'm tired of it being dark all the time.
Whats wrong with daylight savings? Do we run up a debt over the summer and we have to spend the winter paying it back? I'm sorry, but you and your hemisphere have reached your limit. We only make a certain amount of light you know, don't be piggy. If you have adequate light in February you can't have light in July! It's a matter of setting your priorities, for instance, it's too cold to be outside in February! What would you do with the light anyway? Save it for July when you want to walk to the ice cream place at 8:30! We believe that you need those four months of darkness! We think of it as a character building exercise. If you read the small print in your explanation of benefits you would know this.
It's important that it be dark at mid-afternoon in the winter? It would kill us if it was light at 5:30pm? Earlier if you live further north, if you live way up north its dark at 3pm. Because if it was still light 4pm there would be wrong? True, over the summer way up north its light at 10pm all summer but still. It's not like there is a Light Bank that needs to be built up. Why can't we keep daylight savings all year? I understand about the sun and the moon and how far away A is from B and all of that, but it has to be federally regulated that we can't have it light in the evening? Really?
I had to take Dogger out to pee. It was dark. It's always dark. I take her out at 6am, its dark. I take her out at 6pm, it's dark. It's dark all the time.
Sigh.
I would have started this entry earlier but Mini Kitty pinned me to my chair and forced me to curl up under a blanket and fall asleep. I came home from work and I was starved, so I made dinner and it was still early and I said Hmm. I'll watch my little TV show and then I'll do something. Maybe I'll cure cancer and then I'll take a shower. But. No cure for cancer. I was watching my little TV show and Mini Kitty jumped up and started head butting and biscuit making and she curled up and time passed and I pulled her up and she didn't freak out like she is want to do and there she was purring and warm and cozy and then the next thing I know its an hour later and I've got nothing done. Cancer not cured.
Mini Kitty staying with me has been a godsend. If she wasn't here I would have had to go cat cold turkey and I would be spending a lot of time in a fetal position under the table. I could make Dogger into a Kitty - Before I had Dogger, I spent years trying to turn The Kitty into a dog! I did a good job too! He was huge for a cat, he walked on a leash, he acted as a guard cat and he loved riding in the car. If I could have figured out a way I would have trained him to bark. I just don't have the energy or the time to try to teach Dogger to meow. I need a new cat and I need to narrow down the field before Mini goes home on Sunday because I am not going to be happy catless. I may have to find Dogger a cat costume,
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Worker
Monday, I over slept, Tuesday I underslept. The best way to not over sleep is to not be asleep in the first place. There's nothing I find more fun than watching 3: 35 AM turn into 4:18 AM. I have to check the time when I wake up at odd times because it could very well be 6:39 AM and we wouldn't want that to happen again.
Later on Tuesday, was my biannual review at work. Yay! I enjoy them so much. The only thing I liked about evil boss was that she didn't like conducting them anymore than I enjoyed attending them. Her version of the meeting was to leave the printed report on my chair with a note to sign it and return it to her box. Bloodless and stress-less.
The new boss likes conducting them! She gets to print things out! And run lots of statistics! And actually review my work! Imagine, at a performance review! But, on the downside, she reviews my work, statistically! My boss loves statistics and my work is very easy to tie to statistics - How often, how many, and how much. It makes me feel like a machine, and a not expessially efficient machine at that but a machine that is polite, shows up when it is supposed to and orders office supplies in a timely manor. Go me. Beep.
The good news is that statistically, I'm a good little machine and she's happy with my performance.
Going back to Monday. Despite my late start, not too late though because I had my clock set ahead in a mind towards having to feed The Kitty in the morning, and I never re-set it. Anyway. Monday I went shopping for Pet Insurance. I had looked last week but I decided to get serious about it. If I had insurance for The Kitty, I could have saved him because insurance would have paid for an ultra-sound and the G-Tube the vet wanted and any other needed treatments that could have saved him.
Sob! I decided that I would never have another pet that wasn't insured. If I had insurance for Dogger I could have gotten her surgery straight off last summer and she would be all back to normal by now. Insurance would have also covered last years' Addison's crises and the hemorrhagic gastroenteritis that she suffered the year before that. Dogger is also six this year and for a large dog that can put her into the elderly category and elderly dogs are dogs that get sick; For $30 a month she can get sick and get well. Insurance won't cover her existing conditions but I'm all ready covering them. Now, if her other knee goes (God Forbid!) I can get it fixed.
Monday was a good day for Dogger. She got insurance and a bath! It was very exciting. Dogger also showed me how she gets things off the top of the dinning room table, something she's really very good at it - All this time I thought she was using her nose to push things off the edge - No! What's she's really doing is to put her feet up on the edge of the table and then going shopping! She just stands there and surveys her choices and the goes for it. I shouldn't be surprised after seeing her standing on the breakfast table eating The Kitty's food.
The kitchen table looks so sad without The Kitty's dishes there. I walk in the kitchen first thing in the morning, turn on the light and see the dishes not there. It's kind of like a slap in the face every morning, I've been trying to stack papers there to fill the space but I'm not fooling myself with that though, I just end up annoyed because the paper is where the dishes are supposed to be. It's very frustrating.
Monday, I over slept, Tuesday I underslept. The best way to not over sleep is to not be asleep in the first place. There's nothing I find more fun than watching 3: 35 AM turn into 4:18 AM. I have to check the time when I wake up at odd times because it could very well be 6:39 AM and we wouldn't want that to happen again.
Later on Tuesday, was my biannual review at work. Yay! I enjoy them so much. The only thing I liked about evil boss was that she didn't like conducting them anymore than I enjoyed attending them. Her version of the meeting was to leave the printed report on my chair with a note to sign it and return it to her box. Bloodless and stress-less.
The new boss likes conducting them! She gets to print things out! And run lots of statistics! And actually review my work! Imagine, at a performance review! But, on the downside, she reviews my work, statistically! My boss loves statistics and my work is very easy to tie to statistics - How often, how many, and how much. It makes me feel like a machine, and a not expessially efficient machine at that but a machine that is polite, shows up when it is supposed to and orders office supplies in a timely manor. Go me. Beep.
The good news is that statistically, I'm a good little machine and she's happy with my performance.
Going back to Monday. Despite my late start, not too late though because I had my clock set ahead in a mind towards having to feed The Kitty in the morning, and I never re-set it. Anyway. Monday I went shopping for Pet Insurance. I had looked last week but I decided to get serious about it. If I had insurance for The Kitty, I could have saved him because insurance would have paid for an ultra-sound and the G-Tube the vet wanted and any other needed treatments that could have saved him.
Sob! I decided that I would never have another pet that wasn't insured. If I had insurance for Dogger I could have gotten her surgery straight off last summer and she would be all back to normal by now. Insurance would have also covered last years' Addison's crises and the hemorrhagic gastroenteritis that she suffered the year before that. Dogger is also six this year and for a large dog that can put her into the elderly category and elderly dogs are dogs that get sick; For $30 a month she can get sick and get well. Insurance won't cover her existing conditions but I'm all ready covering them. Now, if her other knee goes (God Forbid!) I can get it fixed.
Monday was a good day for Dogger. She got insurance and a bath! It was very exciting. Dogger also showed me how she gets things off the top of the dinning room table, something she's really very good at it - All this time I thought she was using her nose to push things off the edge - No! What's she's really doing is to put her feet up on the edge of the table and then going shopping! She just stands there and surveys her choices and the goes for it. I shouldn't be surprised after seeing her standing on the breakfast table eating The Kitty's food.
The kitchen table looks so sad without The Kitty's dishes there. I walk in the kitchen first thing in the morning, turn on the light and see the dishes not there. It's kind of like a slap in the face every morning, I've been trying to stack papers there to fill the space but I'm not fooling myself with that though, I just end up annoyed because the paper is where the dishes are supposed to be. It's very frustrating.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Staying Busy is the best defence.
Tex passed a week ago. I spent the weekend on fast forward. I went to Gov. Perdues' Inauguration and parade downtown Saturday morning. I should have gone earlier than I did but I didn't think I would get anywhere to sit so why bother going early and standing around? So I went late and sat... Behind a tree. She who went early had an unobstructed view. Oh well.
Then I went kitty hunting. I went to another shelter that did not make me feel like Michelle Vick because I am not ambivalent about declawing, mostly because they did ask and I didn't tell. Shelter "B" actually let me look at the animals without giving them my mothers maiden name! but if I had opted to touch an animal I would have had to gown up first, which was a little weird. The first place made me fill out more paperwork than I did the last time I gave blood, but they didn't care about germs - I think I could tell the people at Shelter "A" that I was adopting a cat in order to feed to a snake and they would be okay as long as I agreed to not get the cat declawed first. The Shelter "B" volunteers were much nicer and if they had had any adoptable kittens I might have gone home with one. Sadly for me but good for them, there were no available kittens on Saturday.
My kitty hunt continues.
Then I went to Target and finally found vacuum bags among other things and then I went home and did laundry and made dog cookies. Then I watched most of Square Pegs. I was so tired by the end of the day I couldn't stay awake to watch Saturday Night Live and I ended up sleeping in my clothes. Mission Accomplished.
Sunday, after Church, I folded up and put away all the laundry I had to do while Kitty was dying. He didn't get around much but what he managed to achieve needed to be laundered. I had been leaving it on top of the dryer and then I moved it upstairs to the guest bed and that was fine, but the bed was getting completely covered and it was beginning to depress me (more) so I folded it up and put it away. Later Sunday I made the worlds worst lasagna. I mean, really, really bad. Damp cardboard flavored with sawdust bad. Next time I follow the recipe to the letter and not try to alter it to suit me. It's a good thing I happen to like saw dust or it would have been a complete waste.
Monday my parents decided to let the worlds tiniest grief counselor stay with me a few more days. Mini-Kitty has always hated me, but in fact, she hated The Kitty and not me. Mini has been nothing but the sweetest little thing since after Tex died. She head butts, she makes biscuits she purrs. She even lets me pet her! Every time I sit down to watch TV she materializes and jumps into my lap. I'm going to miss her when she goes home this weekend. Do you think I can teach Dogger to purr and make biscuits?
Tex passed a week ago. I spent the weekend on fast forward. I went to Gov. Perdues' Inauguration and parade downtown Saturday morning. I should have gone earlier than I did but I didn't think I would get anywhere to sit so why bother going early and standing around? So I went late and sat... Behind a tree. She who went early had an unobstructed view. Oh well.
Then I went kitty hunting. I went to another shelter that did not make me feel like Michelle Vick because I am not ambivalent about declawing, mostly because they did ask and I didn't tell. Shelter "B" actually let me look at the animals without giving them my mothers maiden name! but if I had opted to touch an animal I would have had to gown up first, which was a little weird. The first place made me fill out more paperwork than I did the last time I gave blood, but they didn't care about germs - I think I could tell the people at Shelter "A" that I was adopting a cat in order to feed to a snake and they would be okay as long as I agreed to not get the cat declawed first. The Shelter "B" volunteers were much nicer and if they had had any adoptable kittens I might have gone home with one. Sadly for me but good for them, there were no available kittens on Saturday.
My kitty hunt continues.
Then I went to Target and finally found vacuum bags among other things and then I went home and did laundry and made dog cookies. Then I watched most of Square Pegs. I was so tired by the end of the day I couldn't stay awake to watch Saturday Night Live and I ended up sleeping in my clothes. Mission Accomplished.
Sunday, after Church, I folded up and put away all the laundry I had to do while Kitty was dying. He didn't get around much but what he managed to achieve needed to be laundered. I had been leaving it on top of the dryer and then I moved it upstairs to the guest bed and that was fine, but the bed was getting completely covered and it was beginning to depress me (more) so I folded it up and put it away. Later Sunday I made the worlds worst lasagna. I mean, really, really bad. Damp cardboard flavored with sawdust bad. Next time I follow the recipe to the letter and not try to alter it to suit me. It's a good thing I happen to like saw dust or it would have been a complete waste.
Monday my parents decided to let the worlds tiniest grief counselor stay with me a few more days. Mini-Kitty has always hated me, but in fact, she hated The Kitty and not me. Mini has been nothing but the sweetest little thing since after Tex died. She head butts, she makes biscuits she purrs. She even lets me pet her! Every time I sit down to watch TV she materializes and jumps into my lap. I'm going to miss her when she goes home this weekend. Do you think I can teach Dogger to purr and make biscuits?
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Golden Globes Results 2009
Or
Pity Me, I stayed up late on a school night and watched the awards show so you didn't have to
Best Supporting Actress Film - Kate Winslet, The Reader
Best Original Song Film - Bruce Springsteen, The Wrestler
Best Supporting Actor TV Series or TV Movie - Tom Wilkerson, John Adams
Best Supporting Actress TV Series or TV Movie - Laura Dern , Recount
Best Actor TV Drama - Gabriel Byrne, In Treatment
Best Actress TV Drama - Anne Paquine, True Blood
Outstanding Animated Feature Film - Wall-E
Best Actress Comedy Film - Sally Hawkins , Happy-Go-Lucky
Best Mini-Series/Made for TV Movie TV - John Adams
Best Supporting Actor Film - Heath Ledger, The Dark Night
Best Foreign Language Film - Waltz with Bashir
Best Actress in Mini-Series or TV Movie - Laura Linney, John Adams
Best Screenplay Film - Simon Beaufoy, Slumdog Millionaire
Best Actor Mini-Series or Comedy TV - Alec Baldwin , 30 Rock
Best Actor Mini-Series or TV Movie - Paul Giamatti, John Adams
Best TV Series Musical or Comedy - 30 Rock
Best Sound Track Film - A.R Rahman, Slumdog Millionaire
Best Actress TV Series Musical or Comedy - Tina Fey, 30 Rock
Best Director Film - Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire
Best Actor Film Musical or Comedy - Colin Farrell, In Bruges
Best Motion Picture Musical or Comedy - Vicky Christina Barcelona
Best Actress Drama Film - Kate Winslet, Revolutionary Road
Best Drama TV - Mad Men
Best Actor Drama Film - Micky Rourke, The Wrestler
Best Motion Picture Drama - Slumdog Millionaire
Or
Pity Me, I stayed up late on a school night and watched the awards show so you didn't have to
Best Supporting Actress Film - Kate Winslet, The Reader
Best Original Song Film - Bruce Springsteen, The Wrestler
Best Supporting Actor TV Series or TV Movie - Tom Wilkerson, John Adams
Best Supporting Actress TV Series or TV Movie - Laura Dern , Recount
Best Actor TV Drama - Gabriel Byrne, In Treatment
Best Actress TV Drama - Anne Paquine, True Blood
Outstanding Animated Feature Film - Wall-E
Best Actress Comedy Film - Sally Hawkins , Happy-Go-Lucky
Best Mini-Series/Made for TV Movie TV - John Adams
Best Supporting Actor Film - Heath Ledger, The Dark Night
Best Foreign Language Film - Waltz with Bashir
Best Actress in Mini-Series or TV Movie - Laura Linney, John Adams
Best Screenplay Film - Simon Beaufoy, Slumdog Millionaire
Best Actor Mini-Series or Comedy TV - Alec Baldwin , 30 Rock
Best Actor Mini-Series or TV Movie - Paul Giamatti, John Adams
Best TV Series Musical or Comedy - 30 Rock
Best Sound Track Film - A.R Rahman, Slumdog Millionaire
Best Actress TV Series Musical or Comedy - Tina Fey, 30 Rock
Best Director Film - Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire
Best Actor Film Musical or Comedy - Colin Farrell, In Bruges
Best Motion Picture Musical or Comedy - Vicky Christina Barcelona
Best Actress Drama Film - Kate Winslet, Revolutionary Road
Best Drama TV - Mad Men
Best Actor Drama Film - Micky Rourke, The Wrestler
Best Motion Picture Drama - Slumdog Millionaire
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
Question
Is it too soon to go look at kittens? I feel like one of those widower who gets married again a week after the funeral.
Post Kitten looking. I didn't see The One. There was one kitten that walked right up to me in the kitten room and said Howdy but I don't know... There was one adult that I really liked but I don't want an adult cat! I want a wee baby kitty! The adult cat's name was Daisy and looked a lot of her name sake.
When I walked in the door and said I wanted to look at kittens they made me fill out a bunch of paperwork that they would keep on file for six months. I tried to explain that there would be no kitten adopting today and I was just there to look and I was recently bereaved... When I turned my paper in the girl had an real issue that I didn't have an issue with declawing It's amputation! If you adopt a cat from us it must keep its claws for the rest of its life! . I was like 1) Once I've paid you, just try to stop me, and 2) Screw you!
The search continues.
Is it too soon to go look at kittens? I feel like one of those widower who gets married again a week after the funeral.
Post Kitten looking. I didn't see The One. There was one kitten that walked right up to me in the kitten room and said Howdy but I don't know... There was one adult that I really liked but I don't want an adult cat! I want a wee baby kitty! The adult cat's name was Daisy and looked a lot of her name sake.
When I walked in the door and said I wanted to look at kittens they made me fill out a bunch of paperwork that they would keep on file for six months. I tried to explain that there would be no kitten adopting today and I was just there to look and I was recently bereaved... When I turned my paper in the girl had an real issue that I didn't have an issue with declawing It's amputation! If you adopt a cat from us it must keep its claws for the rest of its life! . I was like 1) Once I've paid you, just try to stop me, and 2) Screw you!
The search continues.
Some good news comes to Casa Saddness
The dishwasher stopped working Friday night. I was just thrilled of course because I didn't have anything else going on and I certainly wasn't making any dirty dishes six or so times a day. I went to empty it againso that I could fill it again and I noticed the bottom was full of water. Yea!
I pressed the buttons on the front thinking maybe it just forgot to finish the cycle or it was tired or on break or whatever machines do when they aren't working. Nothing. I mashed all of them and not a blip not a squeak not a click. I went to the basement to consult with my fuse-box to see if there was something it wanted to tell me. It didn't have anything to say.
The dishes piled up. It caused me a lot of anxiety. I couldn't fix my cat, I couldn't fix my dishawasher. There were a lot of things I couldn't make right.
Sunday I took action. I called for help. Much to my shock I had all my paperwork and necessary receipts to assure the 1-800 number that my dishwasher was indeed still covered under its warranty and that they should send someone to fix my dishwasher for free ASAP.
The dishwasher people defined ASAP as five days into the future, late in the afternoon. I tried to use the dyeing cat card but apparently they didn't have that card in their deck. Their deck is full of Flooded Kitchen cards. Meanwhile, days past, the cat died and the dishes piled up.
Finally, Thursday arrived. I called the repair people to see where I was on the list. Sixth they said. I said "What does that mean?", they said It means that you are the sixth stop on his schedule. I asked how will I know he's on his way? and they said He'll call you, "When we he call me?" I asked When he is finished with the fifth stop on his schedule.
My phone rang around 1pm and I headed for home. I was also worried that whatever was wrong with the machine was some how my fault and not covered by the warranty. The repair people on the phone made it sound as though nearly everything that could go wrong with my dishwasher was my fault and almost nothing that I did to the machine was covered by the warranty. I prepared myself for a future filled with hand washing.
The guy came and shock of shocks! It wasn't my fault! I didn't do anything to the machine! The guy who installed it plugged some things in wrong and after a while they lost connection! The repair and the visit was totally covered by the warranty! They're going to bill Amana!
Another good thing that happened today? I got Tex back! He's home again. But he's really little now, I had thought that when the time came that there would be so much of him that I could scatter him far and wide but in reality, he's going to have to be okay with being scattered close by and narrow. I'm a little disappointed, I had big plans for him, we were going to go on tour. I'm going to have to be much more circumspect about where he spends his eternity that I had thought. I mean, sure, I'm still going to carry him around in my purse and I'm thinking of getting a locket and wearing him from now on, and of course, he really liked the car so some of him needs to be there too... How much to you have to scatter to make it count as an official scattering? I thought I would have handfuls to work with but it's going to be grains! I'm going to have to rethink some things, maybe make some phone calls, cancel a band, see if I can get my deposit back on that hot air balloon and the Blue Angels...
Dogger is being a real champ about dealing with all the chaos at the same time she is having to come to terms with her crate being replaced by a futon. Happily, she's worked it out.
The dishwasher stopped working Friday night. I was just thrilled of course because I didn't have anything else going on and I certainly wasn't making any dirty dishes six or so times a day. I went to empty it againso that I could fill it again and I noticed the bottom was full of water. Yea!
I pressed the buttons on the front thinking maybe it just forgot to finish the cycle or it was tired or on break or whatever machines do when they aren't working. Nothing. I mashed all of them and not a blip not a squeak not a click. I went to the basement to consult with my fuse-box to see if there was something it wanted to tell me. It didn't have anything to say.
The dishes piled up. It caused me a lot of anxiety. I couldn't fix my cat, I couldn't fix my dishawasher. There were a lot of things I couldn't make right.
Sunday I took action. I called for help. Much to my shock I had all my paperwork and necessary receipts to assure the 1-800 number that my dishwasher was indeed still covered under its warranty and that they should send someone to fix my dishwasher for free ASAP.
The dishwasher people defined ASAP as five days into the future, late in the afternoon. I tried to use the dyeing cat card but apparently they didn't have that card in their deck. Their deck is full of Flooded Kitchen cards. Meanwhile, days past, the cat died and the dishes piled up.
Finally, Thursday arrived. I called the repair people to see where I was on the list. Sixth they said. I said "What does that mean?", they said It means that you are the sixth stop on his schedule. I asked how will I know he's on his way? and they said He'll call you, "When we he call me?" I asked When he is finished with the fifth stop on his schedule.
My phone rang around 1pm and I headed for home. I was also worried that whatever was wrong with the machine was some how my fault and not covered by the warranty. The repair people on the phone made it sound as though nearly everything that could go wrong with my dishwasher was my fault and almost nothing that I did to the machine was covered by the warranty. I prepared myself for a future filled with hand washing.
The guy came and shock of shocks! It wasn't my fault! I didn't do anything to the machine! The guy who installed it plugged some things in wrong and after a while they lost connection! The repair and the visit was totally covered by the warranty! They're going to bill Amana!
Another good thing that happened today? I got Tex back! He's home again. But he's really little now, I had thought that when the time came that there would be so much of him that I could scatter him far and wide but in reality, he's going to have to be okay with being scattered close by and narrow. I'm a little disappointed, I had big plans for him, we were going to go on tour. I'm going to have to be much more circumspect about where he spends his eternity that I had thought. I mean, sure, I'm still going to carry him around in my purse and I'm thinking of getting a locket and wearing him from now on, and of course, he really liked the car so some of him needs to be there too... How much to you have to scatter to make it count as an official scattering? I thought I would have handfuls to work with but it's going to be grains! I'm going to have to rethink some things, maybe make some phone calls, cancel a band, see if I can get my deposit back on that hot air balloon and the Blue Angels...
Dogger is being a real champ about dealing with all the chaos at the same time she is having to come to terms with her crate being replaced by a futon. Happily, she's worked it out.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Life and Times
I feel bad that I don't feel bad. I'm not teary, I'm not weepy. To be honest, my pain stopped when his did. I do feel tired, I haven't moved his litter box or his bowls and I haven't disposed of his food or his meds. His foam house sits in its place,. The travel box and his baby are still in my car. I had the heart to clean up after Christmas but not after him.
In his last few days I carried him around in his foam house like a rajah. I was his bearer. If he was going to hide in his den and wait for death, well, he wasn't going wait by himself. Especially since his death, like Godot , took it's time. Where I went, he went, room to room. I moved a file cabinet in the office so he could watch the small Christmas tree while I checked email because he seemed to like the lights. Dogger, The Kitty in his house and I lounged on the futon and watched TV. I'm not sure he liked this plan but I didn't want him to be lonely or out of my sight.
At night I put the box next to me on the bed and positioned it and myself so I could hold on to one of his paws. A few minutes of this was way to maudlin for him and it would provoke him to roust himself to go sleep at the foot of the bed out of my reach.
I did leave him, when I saw his eyes change and I knew he wanted to die, I would leave him for a few hours. I thought when I came back he would have gone. I told myself this was okay since he would not be lonely for long. He was waiting for me when I came back, good thing too because what I would have done with him in that state, I do not know. I hadn't thought it out that far. After his death at the vets office, his was still warm, albeit oddly floppy and I held him for as long as I could. If I had returned home and found him cold and stiff I'm not sure what I would have done but I'm not sure what I would have done if he was warm and floppy when I got home either.
Until the night before he died, when I wasn't was shoveling food down his throat I was stuffing pills. I was worn out from the all day, feeding or cleaning up after feeding or getting ready to feed and I didn't even do it for very long. It felt like forever and it was only days. I was doing this because it was going to make him better. He was going to improve and his torment was going to be worthwhile because it was going to save him. I knew he was going to die but I believed he was going to live. My cheer-leading routine was going to work with him liked it worked for Dogger. It didn't, it and I failed and he died. Everything changed, my cat died and it was days. I left work on Friday with a sick but living cat and by end of business Monday he was dead. I cried then but not since. Should I worry?
I had told the vets office that when he was ready for me I would bring a picture of him for their board. I wanted to find a nice one, so I sat down and went through every picture on my computer and gathered them up. My plan had been to quickly find a nice shot and go and get his developed this evening, but as it turned out it took hours and I gathered 1522 nice shots. No tears for me, instead it was like having a nice visit with him. Him at camp, him at my parents, in the car, at an airport, at my house, in the yard and the basement, on the bed, the couch, the dogs crate. His adult life. My next project is going to be going through his baby pictures that I took way before the advent of scanners and digital cameras.
I checked my voice mail and the vet called, they have him ready for me. It's going to be good to have him home again, I've missed him.
I feel bad that I don't feel bad. I'm not teary, I'm not weepy. To be honest, my pain stopped when his did. I do feel tired, I haven't moved his litter box or his bowls and I haven't disposed of his food or his meds. His foam house sits in its place,. The travel box and his baby are still in my car. I had the heart to clean up after Christmas but not after him.
In his last few days I carried him around in his foam house like a rajah. I was his bearer. If he was going to hide in his den and wait for death, well, he wasn't going wait by himself. Especially since his death, like Godot , took it's time. Where I went, he went, room to room. I moved a file cabinet in the office so he could watch the small Christmas tree while I checked email because he seemed to like the lights. Dogger, The Kitty in his house and I lounged on the futon and watched TV. I'm not sure he liked this plan but I didn't want him to be lonely or out of my sight.
At night I put the box next to me on the bed and positioned it and myself so I could hold on to one of his paws. A few minutes of this was way to maudlin for him and it would provoke him to roust himself to go sleep at the foot of the bed out of my reach.
I did leave him, when I saw his eyes change and I knew he wanted to die, I would leave him for a few hours. I thought when I came back he would have gone. I told myself this was okay since he would not be lonely for long. He was waiting for me when I came back, good thing too because what I would have done with him in that state, I do not know. I hadn't thought it out that far. After his death at the vets office, his was still warm, albeit oddly floppy and I held him for as long as I could. If I had returned home and found him cold and stiff I'm not sure what I would have done but I'm not sure what I would have done if he was warm and floppy when I got home either.
Until the night before he died, when I wasn't was shoveling food down his throat I was stuffing pills. I was worn out from the all day, feeding or cleaning up after feeding or getting ready to feed and I didn't even do it for very long. It felt like forever and it was only days. I was doing this because it was going to make him better. He was going to improve and his torment was going to be worthwhile because it was going to save him. I knew he was going to die but I believed he was going to live. My cheer-leading routine was going to work with him liked it worked for Dogger. It didn't, it and I failed and he died. Everything changed, my cat died and it was days. I left work on Friday with a sick but living cat and by end of business Monday he was dead. I cried then but not since. Should I worry?
I had told the vets office that when he was ready for me I would bring a picture of him for their board. I wanted to find a nice one, so I sat down and went through every picture on my computer and gathered them up. My plan had been to quickly find a nice shot and go and get his developed this evening, but as it turned out it took hours and I gathered 1522 nice shots. No tears for me, instead it was like having a nice visit with him. Him at camp, him at my parents, in the car, at an airport, at my house, in the yard and the basement, on the bed, the couch, the dogs crate. His adult life. My next project is going to be going through his baby pictures that I took way before the advent of scanners and digital cameras.
I checked my voice mail and the vet called, they have him ready for me. It's going to be good to have him home again, I've missed him.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Facts of Life
"The Kitty" was his nom de blog but in real life his name was Tex and he died Monday afternoon around 4:15 pm. He was suffering from liver failure and I promised him when he came to live with me that I would never allow him to suffer. I wanted him to live forever, but he told me he was ready and I did my duty. The world and I will never know another cat like Tex. I loved him with all my heart and will for the rest of my life.
He lived an interesting life. He was sick off and on since kitten-hood but lived life to the fullest by throwing himself into hobbies such as smashing crockery, removing video tapes from shelves at 3am, taking framed posters off the walls and special time spent alone with his Baby. If they had feline SATs he would have a perfect score. That intelligence was great for him, but it can be a challenge living with an exceptionally smart animal. Was he smarter than a fifth grader? There were moments when he was he was smarter than a college graduate. He was a seasoned traveler having both flown and driven cross country numerous times. He tolerated air travel well but his first love was the highway. He genuinely liked car travel and only complained if the driver dipped below 65 MPH. He had a need for speed.
The Internet told me that while the average house cats live to be fifteen, my way, way, way above average baby only lived to see ten years, six months and four days. It is true that only the good die young.
"The Kitty" was his nom de blog but in real life his name was Tex and he died Monday afternoon around 4:15 pm. He was suffering from liver failure and I promised him when he came to live with me that I would never allow him to suffer. I wanted him to live forever, but he told me he was ready and I did my duty. The world and I will never know another cat like Tex. I loved him with all my heart and will for the rest of my life.
He lived an interesting life. He was sick off and on since kitten-hood but lived life to the fullest by throwing himself into hobbies such as smashing crockery, removing video tapes from shelves at 3am, taking framed posters off the walls and special time spent alone with his Baby. If they had feline SATs he would have a perfect score. That intelligence was great for him, but it can be a challenge living with an exceptionally smart animal. Was he smarter than a fifth grader? There were moments when he was he was smarter than a college graduate. He was a seasoned traveler having both flown and driven cross country numerous times. He tolerated air travel well but his first love was the highway. He genuinely liked car travel and only complained if the driver dipped below 65 MPH. He had a need for speed.
The Internet told me that while the average house cats live to be fifteen, my way, way, way above average baby only lived to see ten years, six months and four days. It is true that only the good die young.
12 weeks old, approxmitly
10 years, 6 months and 2 days
Tex Cat
August 1998 - January 5, 2009
Rest in Peace
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Kitty
The Kitty is not well. Very not well. I started syringe feeding him on New Years Eve, and he wasn't doing real well, but I thought he might be making some progress. I called the vet on the second to ask for some direction as to how much and how often I should be feeding him. He was not showing a lot of interest in self feeding and he was throwing up.
The vet told me the 70cc's a day I was feeding him was not enough and that he needed at least 240 cc's a day to get enough nourishment into his body to help is liver start to flush itself out. I went out and bought more syringes. It is not easy to find 10cc syringes and I have to make several stops to get enough of them. At one stop a pharmacist all but accuses me of being a dug seeker. I do finally get all six syringes that I needed (60ccs four times a day = 240ccs a day)
I go home and start filling syringes with cat food. This is isn't easy or clean and it makes a mess and I haven't even started feeding him yet. The Kitty has been getting his food this way for a couple of days but not in the amount. He doesn't love it. I don't love it, but it's important for his health so we persevere. I feed him about 230ccs over the evening Friday before I go to bed. The Kitty then throws up most of it all over my bed. I strip the bed and launder everything. The Kitty and I sleep though the night.
Saturday we start our morning with the first feeding of our day. It's a struggle. The kitty bites though my thumb. This does not make it easier to feed him as I need that thumb to prop his mouth open for the syringe. We feed again, and again. I hate this. He hates this. In the midst of all this my dishwasher stops working. Syringe feeding is messy and causes a lot of dishes. I hate this. I am not happy.
I decide that the syringes are the problem. I do some searching online and find reference to pastry bags. Bing!Bing!Bing! I have two pastry bags! This has made me happy and I have not been happy.
The Kitty is getting all this food. Hundreds of cc's a day of nourishment at least be showing some improvement. He isn't, if anything the addition of all this extra food has caused him to be even more sickly and more depressed and sickly. He can only walk a few steps at a time. How long does it take to work? How long does a liver need to flush itself? What if I'm not giving it enough time to work? I'm tired and his tired but what his fatigue is just a normal stage of the treatment?
I'm worried that this force feeding as caused food to go into his lungs and now he has pneumonia. On the upside, Saturday I took in the outdoor Christmas decorations and since he wasn't able to move, I didn't bother securing the door. I was coming inside as he was walking out the door! I was thrilled. I took him outside and let him bask in the sun, it made Dogger very happy when she was hurting and sick and I hoped it would make The Kitty happy too. He lay there for hours. Usually, when he is outside he runs for the hills. But he was outside in the sun and that made me feel like I was doing something for him.
I started to use the bags for the feedings and it's easier, faster and less messy. I can't be sure he's getting 240 ccs though and that concerns me but he's still getting getting a lot of food. When I have presented him with food and water to take in manually, it appears to make him nauseous, he's not throwing up though.
I know he's dying and I have told him he has my permission to go and he shouldn't stay for my sake. I am ready for him to be at peace. But whenever I think This is it. He's finished, I'm going to stop torturing him with the force feeding and I'm putting him down. Where is the emergency vets number? I wonder if they euthanize? . He perks up and I put thoughts of his death out of my mind.
He has an appointment with the vet Monday afternoon. I love him so much.
The Kitty is not well. Very not well. I started syringe feeding him on New Years Eve, and he wasn't doing real well, but I thought he might be making some progress. I called the vet on the second to ask for some direction as to how much and how often I should be feeding him. He was not showing a lot of interest in self feeding and he was throwing up.
The vet told me the 70cc's a day I was feeding him was not enough and that he needed at least 240 cc's a day to get enough nourishment into his body to help is liver start to flush itself out. I went out and bought more syringes. It is not easy to find 10cc syringes and I have to make several stops to get enough of them. At one stop a pharmacist all but accuses me of being a dug seeker. I do finally get all six syringes that I needed (60ccs four times a day = 240ccs a day)
I go home and start filling syringes with cat food. This is isn't easy or clean and it makes a mess and I haven't even started feeding him yet. The Kitty has been getting his food this way for a couple of days but not in the amount. He doesn't love it. I don't love it, but it's important for his health so we persevere. I feed him about 230ccs over the evening Friday before I go to bed. The Kitty then throws up most of it all over my bed. I strip the bed and launder everything. The Kitty and I sleep though the night.
Saturday we start our morning with the first feeding of our day. It's a struggle. The kitty bites though my thumb. This does not make it easier to feed him as I need that thumb to prop his mouth open for the syringe. We feed again, and again. I hate this. He hates this. In the midst of all this my dishwasher stops working. Syringe feeding is messy and causes a lot of dishes. I hate this. I am not happy.
I decide that the syringes are the problem. I do some searching online and find reference to pastry bags. Bing!Bing!Bing! I have two pastry bags! This has made me happy and I have not been happy.
The Kitty is getting all this food. Hundreds of cc's a day of nourishment at least be showing some improvement. He isn't, if anything the addition of all this extra food has caused him to be even more sickly and more depressed and sickly. He can only walk a few steps at a time. How long does it take to work? How long does a liver need to flush itself? What if I'm not giving it enough time to work? I'm tired and his tired but what his fatigue is just a normal stage of the treatment?
I'm worried that this force feeding as caused food to go into his lungs and now he has pneumonia. On the upside, Saturday I took in the outdoor Christmas decorations and since he wasn't able to move, I didn't bother securing the door. I was coming inside as he was walking out the door! I was thrilled. I took him outside and let him bask in the sun, it made Dogger very happy when she was hurting and sick and I hoped it would make The Kitty happy too. He lay there for hours. Usually, when he is outside he runs for the hills. But he was outside in the sun and that made me feel like I was doing something for him.
I started to use the bags for the feedings and it's easier, faster and less messy. I can't be sure he's getting 240 ccs though and that concerns me but he's still getting getting a lot of food. When I have presented him with food and water to take in manually, it appears to make him nauseous, he's not throwing up though.
I know he's dying and I have told him he has my permission to go and he shouldn't stay for my sake. I am ready for him to be at peace. But whenever I think This is it. He's finished, I'm going to stop torturing him with the force feeding and I'm putting him down. Where is the emergency vets number? I wonder if they euthanize? . He perks up and I put thoughts of his death out of my mind.
He has an appointment with the vet Monday afternoon. I love him so much.
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