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Crazy Cat Lady Extraordinaire

all you never wanted to know about . . . well, you'll see . . .

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green hair me
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ailuronerd

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November 5th, 2009

updating is futile

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According to the little "last post was" thing here, I haven't written anything here for over a year!  Shows how often I'm online lately.

I originally started this journal for a few reasons:  I really =do= want to write more, and more often, than I would strictly by hand, and figured since I type so much faster than I write [though apparently not tonight, grrr!  If I were to leave in all the typos I keep doing, this would be nigh unreadable, even to me!] I'd have a better chance of doing some writing than if I were using a paper journal.  Another reason I started this one was, sad to say, I was bored out of my mind at work much more often than I was actually getting work done.  At the time, when I was a case coordinator for the California DMH-PASRR contract [don't worry, nobody else knew what that stood for, either], we had a rather uneven work-week: Thursday was the only day that was reliably busy the entire day; Mondays were next busiest, with the work tapering down on Tuesday and Wednesday.  On Fridays, it was dead.  Dead, dead, deadsky.  Once in the most cerulean of moons, we had a little work to do in the morning and then had the rest of the day to attempt to look busy.  We became well-known around the rest of the office for our "PASRR Friday four-hour lunches."  So, one of the things I did when =not= lunching was write in this journal.

Why have I dropped off from writing by =so= much, though?  I know one reason - I always manage to "think deep thoughts" either just before I go to sleep, or I'm no-where near a computer.  Many times when I am near a computer, there's other people around and I don't want them seeing what I'm writing [especially if it's about them, eh? Corrolary below with voice recorders, too]. 

I do think the biggest problem is a sub-set of the not-near-a-computer problem.  Usually if I get, say, an incredible story idea I just =gotta= write down, either having to wait 'til I'm near a computer and/or waiting forever for it to boot, I lose the idea.  Massive nasty medications doesn't exactly help the memory, either.  I've tried carrying actual paper and pencil, but even then I can lose the idea before I manage to finish writing it down.  I even have problems with carrying a mini recorder - many times I'm somewhere I cannot just suddenly start talking to a recorder, and I also don't necessarily want people listening in on what I've thought up; what if it's gross, or about them, or even grossly about them?  Nope, doesn't quite work.

Sad, eh?  What I could really do with - and is something I've been dying to have for years anyway - is a true portable minicomputer, one I could carry in my purse and leave on at all times so I can catch ideas quick enough.  Yeah, I know about the cellphones that =are= practically the minicomp I'm talking about, but they're still not quite what I need.  Keyboard's too small, for one thing - the whole point of being able to type fast gets nullified if I have to type out everything with my thumbs.

So what can I do?  Not much, until 'they' come up with a minicomp that meets my specs, or I get around to designing one of my own.

September 12th, 2008

{beginning rare politics-related rant}

I'm not big on Republicans in general, and I think McCain is pretty representative of much of what I don't like about politics in general {Yeah, we get it, you were a P.O.W. in Vietnam - but that is =not= a proper answer to any and all queries about your stance on issues and/or anything that might require a difficult answer!}.  When he chose Palin - A woman! Wow! - as his running mate, I was actually quite impressed, in a way.  Still not likely to vote for him, because I don't like the great majority of his views and stances on issues important to me.  So even though we didn't manage to get a major party to nominate a female for President, this seemed to indicate that, just maybe, people are beginning to realise it's a bit ridiculous that half the country's population have been heretofore considered unable to handle high governmental offices.

Then I started learning what kind of a person she was, and I began having doubts.  

STEEErike ONE!:  She's a Creationist.  To me, that usually seems to go with 'Rabid Fundamentalist.'  But, well, I thought, at least she doesn't try to euphemise it by calling it "Intelligent Design," she just states it flat out.  However, the thought of a person who will actively and seriously try to =force= schools to teach Creationism terrifies me.  Now, don't quote me on that just yet; it may still be a rumour, and I won't state it as fact until I know for sure - I may just be extrapolating from other rabid Creationists I have known.  Our nation was in no way founded upon the Christian Doctrine - which is something I =do= know to be true --- George Washington explicitly stated it, many times and in many ways, when the Founding Fathers were creating this nation.  So, not likely I'd vote for someone who integrates Church and State.  But that was only the first problem...

STEEErike TWO!!:  She's a hunter.  Now, if you have no food and hunting is your only way to feed yourself and your family, I will grudgingly accept that in such a case hunting can be allowed.  I'm still a carnivore, so I cannot truly begrudge others eating meat as well.  Palin, however, in no way or form needs to hunt to feed her family.  She does it entirely for sport, to hang dead animals as trophies on her walls.  That sort of hunting absolutely disgusts me.  So this added to the worry I felt related to her Creationism stance.  And then it got worse.  She likes to 'hunt' in such a fashion as to cause Ted Nugent to exclaim, "Oh, I say, that's disgusting!"  Want to know what it is?  She likes to hunt wolves from airplanes and helicopters.  She bloody well flies over them and shoots them from the air.  I'm pretty sure even the 'real sportsmen' types wouldn't exactly consider that sporting.  Another major black mark against her in myeyes.  But guess what?  She's not finished yet . . .

STEEErike THREE!!!:  She's a book-banner.  Before she became Governor of Alaska, she was Mayor in a small town there.  She approached the town library to 'inquire' about getting certain books banned, =multiple= times.  She has variously said the questions were 'just hypothetical,' or a library patron had asked her to inquire.  When her 'hypothetical questions' were ill-received by the library staff, she had the head librarian fired for 'not fully supporting her.'


   Now, can you truly imagine Heather the uber-book-nerd would ever even =consider= helping someone like that achieve the second-highest political office in the country?  Particularly with McCain, who, to put it bluntly, is pretty old and could possibly kick off - leaving a creationist/hunter/book-burner running the country?

     Didn't think so.


. . .AAAND SHE'S OUT!!!!


{. . . of her mind.}


{/end political rant.}




May 1st, 2008

Nekkid Doggy!

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     Abernathy, my Holy Terrier, normally has this strange wiry coat of hair that makes Albert Einstein's hair look flat and calm.  It's not even, well, even - it sticks out randomly all over his body, defying any attempts to guess what sort of breed he might be.  He's just... a Holy Terrier, that thinks he's bigger than a Rottweiler.  One of his favorite activities is running at full-tilt across the yard towards whatever noise he's decided he needs to bark at, generally straight through any bushes that might be in the way.  So, in general, he tends to pick up bits of sticks, leaves, occasionally tree sap, etc. on a random basis - and absolutely =hates= to be brushed.  It's usually not too bad, just a few twigs and suchlike that can be removed easily by hand.

     . . . But then . . . then the rains came...

     The unusually large amount of rain we had earlier this spring has resulted in a =massive= bumper-crop of weeds - foxtails, bullthorns, and the strange little ones that spiral around like a spring and drill their way farther and farther into your skin, seemingly forever {can you tell I don't like them very much?}.  As a result, Abernathy has been bringing in a bumper crop of stickers practically dreadlocked into his fur.  Since he's so generous (. . .), he's shared lots of those stickers with the rest of us, burying them in our clothes, embedding them in pillows and sheets, and so on. 
     A few days ago, he finally had enough stickers embedded in his fur that he couldn't sit down.  My mom and I spent an hour attempting to brush him out, including having to cut out many dreadlocked clumps of fur and stickers.  This was around 10pm, so we let him out for his last potty-break of the night.  He was outside for about five, ten minutes at most . . . and returned with almost as many stickers as we had just spent an hour brushing out! 

No way in hell was I going to do this every bloody day for the rest of the damn summer.  Abernathy, say goodbye to the fur. . . .
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February 5th, 2008

Is there something strange in the air recently?  I'd blame it on the Nevada nuclear tests that generally end up causing some strange occurrence here in SoCal two weeks to a month after the tests are done (kids who have never had respiratory  problems in their life suddenly getting asthma, all at once; excessive amounts of fish/whales/dolphins beaching themselves; rainstorms that strip the paint off cars; etc.), but that doesn't account for the =waaay= out-of-state-ness of some of these similar occurrences. 

So what was that last extraordinarily convoluted run-on sentence talking about, you say?  I know at least four people who are getting married in the extremely near future.  Just =bam,= and suddenly wedding announcements are flyin' all over.  Two cousins and two friends, at least one of which I thought would rather be fed to a pack of starving chihuahuas than ever walk down that aisle.  Then again, she also felt approximately the same about ever having children, and she's now six months preggers. 
 
The good thing?  None of them are me... The bad thing? I do feel a twinge of loneliness when I'm told.  Strangely enough, though, that's =all= it is - a momentary twinge that swiftly departs.

Still, I'll keep a weather eye out for winged porcine aviators, and a rather-badly-sunburned-looking chap with horns and a tail putting in an order for a few billion heaters.  Just in case.
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January 26th, 2008

As my b-day was Wednesday, my mom decided to bake me a cake yesterday.  She asked me if I wanted her to put candles on it, but I declined stating I didn't really want a wax-topped cake - by the time she finished lighting all thirty-two of them, the first ones would already be down to wax puddles.

So what was her alternative?  "I could just put three candles in a group, and then two candles in a group, then we could just say it's thirty-two.  Oh, wait!  Even better - we could =add= the three candles to the two candles, and you could be five again!  Yay!!!"

...Well, I suppose it's a =little= better than her usual just-ignore-one-digit-of-my-age.  At least with this new way I wouldn't have to be a toddler again.

Of course, with my father, it's the exact opposite.  According to him, I'm much too =old= now - no-one would =ever= want to hire me for a job.  Neither of them seem to be able to see the =me= standing right in front of them.
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December 22nd, 2007

I cannot think of another time when I felt so completely . . . indifferent, I guess, to Christmas.  I just really don't give the slightest damn about it.


In fact, I'm =so= blase about it that I cannot even think of anything else to write.

November 8th, 2007

R.I.P.: Rover

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Yes, another one of my babies is gone.  Rover is (was...) my Queensland Heeler, originally given to my dad from my mom around six months-a year before they divorced.  My dad didn't take her when he moved out, and she just kind of slid over to being my dog after that. 

We took her in to the Vet's office today, pretty sure we wouldn't be bringing her home alive.  She was deaf, almost completely blind, arthritic, and seemed to have some sort of doggy-alzheimers.  She also was having trouble walking; her hind legs just kept collapsing out from under her.  Dr. Ahmed, the vet, said he thought she might have had a couple of strokes, which would definitely account for her legs collapsing, the confusion, and so on.  At eighteen human years, she was around one hundred twenty or -thirty, and outlived her nearest-known litter mate by at least seven or eight years.

It's ironic that I hate the idea of putting animals to sleep - but at the same time, I don't want them to suffer long drawn-out, pain-filled deaths.  And also rather ironic since I think extending the same courtesy to humans should be available to any who want it. 

You know, every time I try to write something about my animals' deaths and how they're so important to me, my brain seems to seize up and make it impossible to truly convey how I feel about them.  So I should stop about here, so I don't just keep writing inanities.

requiescat in pace, Rover.  You will never be forgotten, or unloved.
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April 18th, 2007

Bon Apetit

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Miette's so sweet and nice to me.

She noticed I haven't been eating so well lately, so she decided to bulk up my diet a bit, bringing me a savoury treat.

It's a bit small, so I decided she should eat it instead.

After all, Miette shouldn't get skinny, either, and I think a mouse will go a lot farther to fill her up than it would me.

April 12th, 2007

Requiescat in Pace, Iggy

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Iggy Drop, the world-famous Bitchiest-Looniest-Iguana-in-the-World died tonight.

I miss her.

Can't write any more right now.
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March 29th, 2007

I think I have stumbled {occasionally literally, 'cause I'm just me like that...} upon a possible, er, 'good' thing about memory loss due to morphine stone-ed-ness: daily life can become a sort of scavenger hunt when least expected.

When packing for my rather rushed move from Anaheim, most of the packing boxes were not labelled, and the contents of most of said boxes were in no particular order; the whole thing was more of a, "there room in that box?  shove something else into it, then!" sort of mess.  So, lots of unlabelled boxes, contents in no sense of order that might randomly contain dishes, books, stuffed animals, books, coloured pencils, books,  clothing, books,  CDs/DVDs/VHS  or such,  and who knows what else, drawn from any and every room in the house. 

The upshot of this:  I've been having the hardest bloody time finding wearable clothes, arts n' crafts supplies, certain books and music and movies, and so forth since there are boxes a} in my room, b} in the living room,} in the garage, and, worst of all, d} clear over at my dad's house! 

Well, earlier this morning {yes, insomnia rears it's ugly head again, such fun to be Morphine-stoned =and= sleep-deprived all at once!  Bleah.} I had occasion to need to dig through a particular large, unlabelled box in my room - where, lo and behold, a veritable treasure-trove of many of the things I've been looking for in the past weeks!  A middle-in-a-series book, my NMBC and cats playing cards, dresses and skirts I'd almost forgotten about, ankle weights, bits and bobs of craft and sewing stuff, Miette {Oh, wait - that was just because she jumped in the box  to, ah, 'help' me find stuff...}, and other nifty things. 

unfortunately, I just realised I have completely forgotten where I was going in this narrative.  Morphine giveth, but also taketh away... gngh!
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