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( 日本語 )

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Me: Don' wanna.

Sam (Also Me): Well, you have to.

Me: Don't. Shan't.

Sam: What, you want to stay in bed another hour? Skip the park and just do your dance exercises?

Me: Ooh. Yes.

Sam: Well, you can't.

Me: ... yes I can, you're a figment of my imagination, I totally c--

Sam: NO.

Me: Fuck.

But then I did. And I did feel better, and I did my dance exercises and I still felt better and so on and so forth. The skies did not open up on me, I didn't run into anyone's pets, it was all good.

Hm. Today, the first thing I definitely have to be grateful for is my family. My strange, strange yet wonderful family. My mother, in particular, today, because my birthday present is, um. Somewhat more than I expected. We'll just leave it at that.

Electricity. That powers my air-conditioning. I like the air conditioning when it's over 80 and humid out. Or even fans. Those require electricity too.

Good actors. Good, entertaining actors and good scriptwriters who give the actors good material to work with.

And, today I am grateful for Bruce Boxleitner. Who is still handsome, still adorable, still a wonderful actor and a sweet guy. And damn but he looks good in blue. Ahem.

(no subject)

( Deutsch )

Get married by quantum physics! Seriously, this ought to be a Eureka plot.

Also, this. You keep using that Constitution. I do not think it means what you think it means.


Finished one pink fingerless glove! Cheated and just rush finished it without making it as long as I meant to, because I decided I wanted to try another design. Then weighted the yarn I had left and realized I probably had enough to do a pair of gloves in that other design AND a mate for the one I already made. Score, because having just one pink fingerless glove would probably be very weird.

So, yeah. Our cat Artemis died; she had been living out at the farm for the last... oh, over ten years by now. How old am I. Well, since I went off to college, because she used to be my DC cat, and then when I left home Mom gave her to the farm. Probably one of the few instances of a parent telling a child the pet went to live on a nice farm and it was actually the case. The farm is sort of the dumping ground for pets we can't take care of anymore. And by the time that happened Artemis was already probably ... six years old or so, so... well, she lived to be a respectable age for a cat. Apparently the past few days she hadn't been eating at all, although she'd been drinking fine. Her voice was strong, hadn't lost any weight that anyone could notice. The Beej took her outside a bit the other day, and she wandered down to the blueberry patch before coming back up to the house. The Dye Giant said he knew she was wrong some way because she let him pick her up, and she's always been a one or two people only cat. And this morning, she was gone. Love you, baby black kitty girl. See you on the other side, where our bodies never fail.

(At some point I should dig out my old pictures of kitten!Artemis and young!me.)

It's funny how we attach to things. Some people will say oh, it's just a cat... not people I know, thank god, although I'm not as upset as I might be if it were, say, Mikey. She was an old kitty, she'd had a good run. I remember her when we were all younger and lived in the same house, though, always running, having adventures, never stopping to be petted. Her sister cat, Tigra, was much more sedate and guarded my door and slept on my chest. She was the wild one, though, Artemis. We attach to our pets. People in prison make pets out of roaches and rats. Or cats and dogs, if there's a prison program. I remember when we lived with the boy's parents Gretchen-kitty and I had conversations, long meowy conversations, and she'd come under the blankets and sleep by your feet. (She's still around, just up north there.) Alan was HUGE. Seriously, this cat's 25 pounds or so, and he wasn't too sociable but he wouldn't run away if you went to pet him. He's white with blue eyes, or gray with blue eyes since he goes out and gets dirty a lot. Gracie's the small one, she's very talkative but also very adventurous, doesn't stay still to be petted a lot but when she wants pets she can be demanding.

I could tell you all of my current cats' personalities, fill up paragraphs and paragraphs. They're a part of our lives. I don't need to set an alarm clock because I know they'll crawl all over me and wake me up to be fed; I imagine that, as they get older or pass away and we get new cats, the ones still remaining will teach the new ones that same thing and it'll go on and on. I don't really mind. I like my cats. I like cats in general. It's just... it's funny how we attach. Not just to our pets, but to little things like Murdock's fierce looks that quickly change to "what? I'm a cute little kitten, me." or the way he headbutted my ass the other day. I'm so not kidding. He has this habit of waiting till your back is turned and then pouncing and literally grabbing onto your ass with his paws; thankfully he's gotten better about not sinking his claws in, I think he's learned that we don't have fur the way he does. And yesterday he sort of tried and just ended up slamming his head into the lower curve of my ass. It was hilarious.

Little things, like the way Mikey comes and jams his head against me any way he can when he's hungry, or when I'm asleep he comes and lays on my back. Or if he's hungry and I'm asleep he comes up, lays on my chest, puts his head against mind and lets out a low, LOUD meow. Just one, mind you. It's like he knows he just needs to say it once and I'll open my eyes and, yes, probably glare at him, but eventually get up and feed him. And Maggie likes to be petted on her own terms, but if you hold out a finger she'll come up and bump her head against it as if to say, kay. Your offering is acceptable. Michelle is the sweetest of the cats, she is pretty easygoing and doesn't charge up and meow in your face like Mikey. She also does an adorable meerkat impression. On command. And we attach to these things. Their habits. The little things we remember.

So it goes.

(no subject)

( 日本語 )

So, I tell the boy that I think my allergies are acting up because we haven't vacuumed the floor in a while. I come home, he's out at game, and what do I find? A vacuumed floor. How awesome is that.

Okay, hey, SONAR? Norton? I was fucking installing that. That is a legitimate goddamn program and if you fucked up my Campaign Cartographer I will hurt you a lot. Upon further examination, apparently this is a distinct problem with SONAR and Symantec, in that Symantec believes everyone has to run their software by it to be whitelisted or their program blocks it as malicious ware. Which would be nice if there were only a few software companies but there aren't. And plenty of legitimate people make small time software packages that do no harm to people's computers and fuck you, Symantec. You are not the boss of Software. Fuck off.

Clearly the answer here is never trust programs that run around in gold and black. So pissed. I actually went to install that tonight because I'm at a point where I need to use something to make a star map, and I have the Campaign Cosmographer thing, and if I can't use it now because Norton was a flying jackwagon ...

Sigh. Deep breath and sigh. And bed soon, and my CC discs need new covers because these are pretty well smashed, but at least the discs themselves work. We'll see if the programs work on my computer. And. Something. I had further thoughts here but they all left in the wake of that irritating little SNAFU.