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Archive for the ‘ranting about nothing, really’ Category

so, i had a cat.

last picture of ophelia thunderpaws

last picture of ophelia thunderpaws

she was an awesome being. seriously, when i think about her personality, and the quirks she had, i smile. she was the only cat i ever met who would burp. and eat crackers. and fetch. and snore. losing her was tough. i had raised her from the tender age of six weeks. she would have been 11 this past june.

i got a tattoo for her.

paws and dirt marks. naturally

paws and dirt marks. naturally

not that i need help remembering. but paw prints on my left shoulder (where she was laying where she died), inked three months after her death, seemed appropriate. they are also right in the path of my bra, which made things really uncomfortable for a few weeks.

anyway.

i had thoughts of getting another pet. i didn’t think i could get another cat. just petting neighborhood cats was enough to make me tear up. i really wanted a bunny. i looked into the rabbit rescue, and gave the whole thing serious thought.

then i found out someone who worked at my same hospital was giving up her dog. and was giving him back to the pound.

this picture makes me dissolve into baby talk

not a bunny, that’s for sure. but, how could you not love that face?

i took our resident dog, bentley, a few times to the dog park to meet this hansome man. his name is mario. his person was an absolute flake. we’d make plans for the dogs to hang out, to make sure they were okay with one another, and she’d forget. or show up a few hours late. seriously, i’d complain to anyone who would listen, about how this woman was wasting my time. there were a few episodes that made me want to stop thinking about this dog, and just get a bunny.

however.

mario came to live with me just before the fourth of july. he’s mellow. he’s goofy. he’s the alpha dog. he won my black little heart over.

dig that spotted tongue

dig that spotted tongue

he’s a bull mastiff mix. also, due to that tongue up there, i also believe him to be of chow descent. plus, he’s a fan of knitting. and oingo boingo.

happy dog

happy dog

he doesn’t really bark, but he does a lot of grunting. he chases cats, but we’re working on that. he rolls his eyes, and is laying on my leg as i type. so far, he seems to like kung fu movies the best.

it's almost impossible to take a picture of one and not the other

it's almost impossible to take a picture of one and not the other

and he’s pretty good with bentley’s spastic ways. he treats him the way an older brother would treat a younger, slightly disabled sibling. which is close enough to reality to make me giggle.

just waiting for the temperature to drop

just waiting for the temperature to drop

he won’t allow bentley on the bed. when he sleeps, he snores. loung enough to be heard through the whole house. and with enough force to shake the bed. even when he’s laying on the floor. he gets the hiccups nearly every morning. i’ve successfully scared them out of him, which makes him wag his tail and grunt approvingly.

when he hears the alarm go off, he grunts and sticks him nose in my face. he head butts me until i get up.

he's as cuddly as he looks

he's as cuddly as he looks

he wags his tail in a circular manner.

i have no idea if ophelia would approve of him. she spent her life around various dogs, both canine and human. she dominated all of them. i think she would have dominated mario, but she would have napped with him after.

he’s no kitten, that’s for sure.

interrupting the nap is punishable by head-butting

interrupting the nap is punishable by head-butting

but he’s the perfect act to follow her.

thanks for stopping by.

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yeah. oh, and there will be a little bit of swearing today. just so you know.

so, it’s been kinda hot here in the northwest. z, mr sparkles and myself decided to visit a place called wild waves, located about two-and-a-half hours north of home base. to be more specific, i said, hey, let’s go to a winery. mr sparkles said, i kinda want to get wet. i said, what about that place off I-5 in washington? he looked it up online, and we bought tickets.

now, this is important. i asked mr sparkles, do they have their hours of operation on the site? just check to make sure they’re open and everything. he said, yeah yeah. of course they are.

that’s called foreshadowing.

anyway, we buy three tickets for saturday. we drive up to beautiful federal way, washington. which really is a beautiful area. we get there around three in the afternoon, because it’s freakin’ saturday and, as a group, we decided to sleep in. we manage to get off the freeway and find our way to the entrance. which is no small feat. because, even though you can see the park from the freeway, there are no signs. there’s no real easy way to get from point A to point B. we end up driving through a residential area, with z and mr sparkles in the front seat going, should we just pull over and knock on someone’s door? then there’s me in the back, with my knitting, saying, it’s gotta be a few more blocks that way, and pointing. i’m right, but still. there really should be signs.

so. we get there, we pull up to the parking kiosk. where we’re told the park is closed for a private function.

awesome!

basically, according to the parking dude (who is maybe 16, and acne is fighting world war III on the kid’s face. mean, yes, but i’m still a little bitter about all this), a church organization has rented the entire park for an event, and we have to have special tickets. meaning, we’d have to buy new tickets. we can still come in, but the tickets we’ve already bought are not valid for this special event. parking dude said the event is listed on the calendar on the website.

i reach over and hit mr sparkles. i told you to check, i said.

we’ve come all this way, so we park. we go up to the ticket booth. there’s a lady standing there with a bunch of tickets. she tells me she just has too many, and will gladly sell us three of them. we buy them and head in. our tickets bought online were $35 per. the tickets from the very nice lady – whom i referred to as “a scalper for christ” – were only $20 per. not as bad, but still. we’re still grumbling a little while we walk over to a roller coaster and get in line. we ride the roller coaster, and it’s awesome. as we’re getting off, we notice the ride is shutting down. mr sparkles goes over and asks one of the roller dudes why it’s closing. roller dude says, oh, all the rides are closing in 15 minutes for the bands.

i… we… wait, what? closing the park for jesus time? what?

yeah, he says. the church group brought all these christian bands, and they’re gonna play for the next four hours. so, they’re closing all the rides. he shrugs. the church paid a lot of money to do this, so that’s what they’re doing.

we drove nearly three hours and paid $55 to ride one roller coaster.

upset is too bland a word for how we felt. mr sparkles stalked off to find a smoking area, while z and i headed to guest services. i let her yell at some poor lady behind a desk while i sat outside watching people. the jesus people seemed to have no concept of personal space. they’d walk by, and step on my feet. it’s not like i have super long legs, or i was stretched out across the walkway. i’m pretty much short and visually unobtrusive. and yet… i was trampled.

also? i try really hard not to judge people’s bodies. we have too many body issue-related diseases and disorders in this culture of ours for me to be casually making fun of someone’s thighs, you know? however. i believe there should be some common sense. like, if you can’t see your toes, maybe you shouldn’t be wearing a string bikini.

i’m just saying, is all.

so, z vents her frustrations, and gets free passes for us to come again. no apology, no real refund. on the plus side, z’s buying our passes from us, and taking her kids on another weekend. they’ll totally enjoy it. and while i’d kind of like to go another time, i feel a little burned by the jesus people. and yeah, on the way back to the car, i said, dudes, jesus ruined our saturday.

and yet, that’s not the end of the story.

getting back on the freeway is even more complicated than getting off the freeway. we drive around looking for an onramp going north or south. there is nothing we can see. there are no signs to suggest there are ways of getting on the freeway. we’re driving around a little burg called milton. parallel to the freeway, but not on the freeway. adjacent to and in the vicinity of the freeway, but not actually bisecting the freeway. finally, there are signs when we drive further south and leave the town of milton altogether. we’re sitting at the light, talking about the amazing lack of onramps or even helpful arrows. from the backseat, i say, fuck milton in the ass.

we all laugh.

if i were inclined to find a silver lining in all this – and i sorta am – then i’d have to say that i got some great one liners out of the whole escapade. and i got some knitting done. as i’m sitting here, i’m fighting the urge to head over to zazzle and make shirts that say,’ jesus ruined my saturday’ (the graphic would have to be a little cartoon puppy with sad eyes), and ‘fuck milton in the ass’ (as long as i’m going to hell here, this one would have to have a giant fist on it. maybe a fist with a freeway sign).

and that’s how jesus ruined my saturday. thanks for stopping by.

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so, i’ve been knitting and sweating. and crocheting little robots. oh, and having awful experiences which you’ll hear about in another day or two. right now, this is making me giggle.

this is totally something kitten would have done.

thanks for stopping by.

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string cheese, in the individual packages? does not have an expiration date.

but, oh man… it totally expires. and it smells like bad garlic.

and the taste. it is, how you say? ew. ew squared.

but thanks for stopping by.

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seriously.

i’m a fan of reading several books at once (and it’s hard work catching up with the interwebs¬†AND reading AND knitting AND overdosing on entire seasons of television shows i can’t be bothered to watch in real time) (which is code for, i have spare time now, and i’m slowly returning to a decent schedule and social life), and it appears several authors can’t use a dictionary. or their common sense gland.

the word, people, is decimated. as in, decimation. now, think about that for a moment. deci– prefix meaning ten. as in, reduce by ten percent. proper usage- “dude, working out daily has decimated my ass.” so, why would you use ‘decimation’ to suggest total destruction? how about ‘obliterated’ or ‘destroyed’ or ‘leveled’?

how about ‘completely buggered’? these are all good choices.

just sayin’, is all.

thanks for peeping in.

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hi.

i mean to post, honestly. i have odd and crazy stories to share with y’all, which is the reason i have my three loyal readers to begin with. but the stars have aligned against me for the time being. my schedule changes pretty much daily, so even wheni think i’m gonna have time to sit down at a compy and whip out a post, my boss decides i need to stay an extra couple hours.

cliff notes update –

we have a dog now, and he enjoys yarn. it’s chewy.

i have been adopted by a stray cat. he’s pretty funny when given catnip.

while i’m technically part-time at my bloodletting gig, i hope to be moved up to full-time shortly. i hate to talk about it, just in case it all goes to hell in a handbasket, but the set schedule means more free time. to, you know, knit. oh, and drink and post. sometimes all at once.

someone has taught my cat how to burp. ew.

i’m going to disneyland on halloween! or very close to it. actually, i’m going to a memorial concert for the birdman, and as long as i’m in southern california, i hope to talk moi into going to disnelyland. which means… we’re totally going.

finally, i have been thinking about this video for the last few days. it cracks me the hell up.

thanks for stopping by. and thanks for sticking around.

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so, i’ve taken up yoga.

for a lot of reasons, but mainly because my job is starting to stress me out. i mean, doctors can reattach a human hand, and swap out hearts like they were transmissions, but they sure as hell can’t use a computer. or spell, for that matter – but that’s a gripe for another time. anyway, simply put, doctors order lab tests on the compy, then i go draw them on my next round. but it’s never that simple in real life. they misspell names, they order the labs for the wrong patient, blah blah blah.

so, yoga. on wednesdays.

and, i have to tell you. i consider myself to be in pretty okay shape. i’m no soccer player, sure, but i can take the stairs without winding myself. and, after standing bent over my left leg, with my right leg up behind me, sole pointed toward the ceiling… i have bits that hurt in places i didn’t know bits could hurt.

oh, and seeing your own ass upside down in the mirror behind you? liable to put you off eating anything but lettuce for the next ten years. holy crap.

thanks for stopping by.

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