[  Mood: Neutral ]
[  Currently: Working a job I like a lot… ]

This week has seen my wife and I moved into a house we’ll be renting for six months before we buy it and live there a long time. That’s the good in a nutshell.

In the past three days, we’ve seen our black and white cat (my wife’s for six years before I met her, and mine since then–what can I say? The cat chose me) grow lethargic, lose her appetite, more details I will withhold, but if you’ve had a pet get sick, you have an idea what I may be going through without me providing details.

This silky-coated cat stole my heart from the day we met. She stalked me in her one bedroom apartment, sneaking up on me and glaring, then freezing in place with her eyes glued to me when I happened to notice her. She froze, looking daggers at me, saying with her huge, yellow-rimmed black eyes, "You can’t see me. I’m standing still. Go about your business. I’ll continue stalking you momentarily." It never failed to bring me to teary laughter.

She liked to get onto whatever furniture might have a book, remote control, or magazine left on it–especially on an arm–so she could poke it with a paw until it dropped off to crash onto the floor. At this point, as if she had no clue what would happen, she’d look wide-eyed at the nearest human, "Did you drop that? Did you know it was going to hit the floor so hard? You really shouldn’t leave things on the arms of chairs, you know." My wife has never been enamored of this behavior, as it saw a signed Ray Bradbury novel dropped into a bathtub once…

My kitty has five favorite things.

First, hiding under covers. She’s a spelunker. The darker the hole leading under the blankets, the better. Finding a lump under the conforter when I entered the bedroom? Hilarious.

Second, the sun. Preferably the hottest afternoon sun available, through the thinnest glass window, so more heat could be absorbed by the black in her coat.

Third, her toy. One of those "gone fishin’" contraptions made by Hartz. Hers has no bell–a popular feature on the newer models. Hers need only the rod and a long string, with a ribbon tied to the end. That ribbon has been through hell, mainly at her paws and teeth. She’ll attack it with the ferocity of a starved panther. She’ll drag it around in her mouth if she feels ignored.

Fourth, sleeping above my head in the bed, preferably on my pajamas.

Last, she loves licking the salty sweat off my forehead. Evidence here.

Now she’s facing a bug that her veterinarian can’t seem to pin down, at a time when my wife and I have no fiscal space to play with in our budget, and my dear, sweet kitty is in pain and I am depressed and sad and confused.

UPDATE: Word from home is, kitty seems to be acting herself again. Perhaps the bug is turning from the antibiotics we’ve administered in the past few days.

[  Mood: Shocked ]
Was on the Facebook checking up on the world. I am friends with an ex-boyfriend. (Against my schorched earth policy, I know, but I am trying to be a better person.) He has changed his profile picture. Now he is wearing a loincloth.

Did I really need to see that?

I think my answer is no.

“I’m crazy about movies. It’s why I became an actor. I could cry watching C.H.U.D. (Cannibal Humanoid Underground Dwellers). I buy into movies. I love it.“ — Robert Downey, Jr., "I Am Iron Man”, a behind-the-scenes documentary from the Iron Man DVD.

Robert Downey Jr Quote was originally published on The Geek Curmudgeon

[  Mood: Happy ]
[ Currently: Breastfeeding my son – Situation Normal ]
The second volume of this series brings back the group that we all remember from the first volume. This time the League is up against martians, the ones from War of the Worlds. For extra flavour there are glances of John Carpenter, Gulliver and Dr. Moreau.

Once again the story moves along at a quick pace, but this one sees the devolution of the League. The downfall of the Invisible Man is particularly gruesome. While not as good as the first volume, it is still worth it to see Hyde take on a tripod.

Fun!

Good thing that Brandy and I arrived at Barton Creek Mall around 1 on Sunday.

Just one more reason to not go to the mall!

Yet another reason to NOT go to the mall was originally published on The Geek Curmudgeon

[  Mood: Happy ]
[ Currently: Breastfeeding my son – Situation Normal ]
The ninth entry in the Dresden Files series finds Harry training his apprentice Molly in the intricacies of magic when his first love, Elaine, appears.

Following Harry’s example, Elaine has become a private investigator. She has been hired to protect a small group of low level female magic practitioners. Apparently a serial killer has been targetting women like them. Over thirty are dead, but the authorities think they are all suicides.

As if that isn’t enough, Harry is drawn into White Court politics. This means that we get a better look at the three different groups that feed off psychic energy and the politics that surround them.

This is a great story, with character development that has become typical for Butcher’s work. Well done!!

[  Mood: Happy ]
[  Currently: Listening to CBC Radio One ]
Sophie is the eldest of three daughters of a millner. As the oldest daughter, she knows that nothing remarkable will ever happen to her as it is always the youngest of three sisters who has great things ahead.

Resigned to an ordinary life, Sophie is cursed by the Witch of the Wastes. Turned into an old woman, Sophie runs, well hobbles, away. She takes refuge in a castle that is moving across the landscape.

The castle belongs to the Howl, a powerful wizard who supposedly eats young women. Howl allows her to stay on as a cleaning woman. Avtually, he just ignores Sophie, who decides to stay.

I know I am late coming to this party as the book was published in 1986 and also has a Hayao Miyazaki filmed adaptation, which was in turn nominated for an Academy Award.

This is a WOW!! book. Funny, poking fun at the conventions of fairy tales, it also manages to be an exciting tale that unrolls at breakneak speed, with interweaving plots and characters.

Worth the time and effort and will be in the next "What to Read After Harry".

[  Mood: Sleepy ]
So Husband Unit and I finally came to the conclusion that we could not keep up with the Feline Unit’s knots. He is a beautiful domestic longhair. He is a buff colour, like the undercoat of an orange tabby. If you really must see a pic, head to my Facebook page.

Up until recently, the Feline Unit has been fastidious in his upkeep, I have never had to brush him. In the last year or so, knots have begun to appear. We went to the vet for advice how to deal with it. We came away with brushes. They worked somewhat, but he still had knots.

And then the baby came.

I have had no time to brush him and he got worse. Why not take him to a groomer. Well the Feline Unit does not travel well. The vet is five minutes away and he rubs his nose raw against the bars of the carrier almost every time. He also screams out to passing cars that we are not his real parents and to please contact the authorities. So travel is not an option.

So we found a groomer who made home visits. She came over last night. Initially I thought it would be a little trim. She disagreed. The knotting was worse than I thought. He apparently needed a fairly complete shave.

So she shaved the Feline Unit all over his body, leaving only his head, neck, tail and most his legs alone. My cat now looks extremely wierd. How wierd? Remember Mars Attacks when the reporter’s head was sewn onto her dog? Like that, only it is my cat’s head. And he is wearing a feather boa for a tail and thigh high fur boots.

Added to the indignity is the fact that the Husband Unit and I burst into hysterics when the cat comes into the room. It is quite funny.

So pity the Feline Unit. His dignity is under attack.

[  Mood: Silly ]
So while I was in Sudbury, I went to Science North with Husband Unit and Geeklet. While there, we were looking at the various animals that call the centre home. I had just passed the beaver enclosure when I heard a dull bang.

My brain took a mere second to process that sound.

Some punk had just banged on the glass of the beaver house where the poor animal was sleeping.

Before I knew what was happening, I had spun on my heels and headed back for the enclosure to find out which little darling was harrassing the wildlife. I was surveying the group of 5 and 6 year-olds from the day camp to see who was the most likely candidate as it slowly dawned on me that this wasn’t my group of students to deal with.

But that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to catch the little hooligan.

You can take the teacher out of the school . . .

And, no, I didn’t catch the perp, but I did have a big revelation about my personality.

[  Mood: Hypnotized ]
[ Currently: Breastfeeding my son ]
So I went to a wedding in Sudbury this weekend. Sudbury is a mining town in Northern Ontario, home of the Big Nickel. It is over six hours from my house and even has its own song.

The hotel we stayed in claimed to have wireless Internet. And it did, when we checked in Thursday.

When we woke up Friday, we briefly had the net and then, it went away, never to return.

We called the front desk to let them know. They said they were working on it. No biggie, we thought, we’ll log in once we get back from Science North.

Guess what wasn’t working when we got back? Thus began our repeated complaints to the front desk. We were promised repair. We were offered to reboot the wireless. After three days, we were told to use the ethernet connection, which also did not work.

We then found out from a staff member that our room was notorious for having issues with the Internet. So much so that the previous occupant had to be moved to a new room. When we went to the front desk with this info, they offered to move us. It was our last night there. As we were checking out the front desk cheerfully informed us that the tech guy was there to fix our problem. Nice.

When I return to Sudbury, I will not be staying here. In fact it will be awhile before I stay in a Radisson again.

So excuse me as I catch up on a week’s worth of posts.