?

Log in

It sounded good at the time

Dec. 28th, 2009

01:19 pm - Save money! Beat yourself up!

First, I fell in our very icy parking lot this morning. It was plowed, but had not been salted. I fell so hard on my tailbone and wrist that I knocked the wind out of me and rolled around in the ice and snow trying to stop hurting and get a breath.

Second, I was in the server room tracing some cables and stood up, driving the corner of the circuit box into my back.

I need stronger pain killers than I'm allowed to take at work. I swear I code better on vicodin! Percocets might make my loops approach infinite, but vicoden just makes them a bit more poetic.

Dec. 14th, 2009

10:49 am - Appointment with Death

Dunna, our male cat, recently developed a tumor in his throat. In a short time, it grew to the point of interfering with his breathing and swallowing. He lost almost 3 pounds in as many weeks. He was starving and miserable and we had a decision to make.

His breathing was horribly labored. He could barely walk. But, what really did it for me was that he didn't want to cuddle. Dunna, our lover boy that spent more time on laps than off, did not want to be touched.

Of course, as soon as we decided that we should take him in, I saw changes in him. He seemed to sit up to show us that, no, he wasn't quite ready! But, all they were, those changes I thought I saw, was my mind trying to see something I wanted to see.

I called the vet to find out when we could take him in. We set an appointment. I paused on that thought. "We set up a time to kill our cat."

If we can do that, if we can set up a time for the vet to end his life, then why do we have to soften things up so much by saying "put down" or "put to sleep?"

We killed our cat. I'm ok with saying that. I'm ok with doing that. I'll miss my love bug, but he was in pain. He was dying. It was the best thing to do.

The vet told us of a study in England in which it was found that veterinarians had the highest rate of suicide. When examined more closely, they realized that most of these individuals were terminal. They weren't suicides as much as self euthanasia.

Vets get it. They have to deal with quality of life decisions throughout their career. They understand that it's much more humane to kill something or someone who is living nothing by misery.

I really hope someone can be so merciful with me.

I'll miss my stinker-butt. He was a great kitty.

Dec. 4th, 2009

09:00 pm - take it in trade

me: I rode with the new cute boy!

frogmaster: since you got to have sex, I bought a new computer!

me: We did not have sex. We just smooched some.

frogmaster: Oh. Then I spent too much money.

Nov. 6th, 2009

11:52 am - I have shyness in weird places

I keep telling myself that I need to be more proactive. I need to get involved and help accomplish those things that I need to accomplish. Yet, I can't seem to make myself sign up for a phone bank out of, what I know to be, shyness.

"What?" you say. "You, shy?" I know! It's crazy. But, I am in some really odd ways. This is one of them. I really don't like attention unless given on my own terms. While the phone calls would allow me to dictate the initial direction of the attention, showing up in an unkown place in front of unknown people would not.

Hopefully, eventually, I'll be able to conquer the stupidity of it all.

And, while this isn't the exact topic I was referring to above, it is related.

I need to find a way to become an advocate for those marked with the "sex offender" label. Not only have we lumped in every degree of offense into one deplored category, but we are treating them all unjustly by demanding registration and declaring certain living quarters off limits AFTER they have served their time, if any, for their particular sin.

It makes for easy legislation. After all, who is going to say no when offered tougher limitations on SEX OFFENDERS, giving an automatic check in the "elect me next time" box of those in office because they are seen to be doing something.

I certainly don't think that a twenty year old who slept with a 17 year old really should be in the same category as the individual that has been collecting bodies in his house in Cleveland.

And, perhaps, just perhaps, by including the minor (not minor) offenders we tend to water down what the label actually means, thus enabling the worst cases to be less scrutinized. After all, if you cry wolf even when you see a chihuahua, the townsfolk eventually quit rushing to your aid, yes?

Nov. 3rd, 2009

07:09 am - Because we didn't have enough of those!

Congratulations, Disney. You managed to make a movie with one female character, and she dies within the first half hour.

Oct. 14th, 2009

08:45 am - And the great things he wrote when he was stoned...

You've heard of NaNoWriMo.

And then came NaDruWriNi.

Now, I propose NaDruKniNi.

I will schedule a night that we can get together with our most outrageous yarn and make a scarf while drinking it up!

Good times will ensue.

I promise.


Brought to you by the one sentence per line committee.

Tags:

Oct. 1st, 2009

11:10 am - Puntime!

Please
Laugh
At
Underground
Graveyards
Egregiously

It's the Mnemonic Plague! Get it?

Sep. 30th, 2009

08:56 am - From the pulpit

Blasphemy Day ...because your god is a joke.


Blasphemy laws are still being passed and enforced today, a concept that bewilders me. So commit atrocious acts of irreverence and blaspheme to your heart's content. Show people that, yes, it is perfectly fine to critique, criticize and otherwise question beliefs.

Sep. 23rd, 2009

03:37 pm - Cow-orkers of doom!

Pick up your feet before I snatch those damn flip flops and beat you all over with them!

Current Music: scrape scrape scrape

Sep. 18th, 2009

12:54 pm - WHY YES I'VE HAD SOME SUGAR! WHY DO YOU ASK???

Having consumed nothing but sugar all this week while at work, I was amazed to realize how healthily I had been eating (well, until now). This is how my diet used to be.

The last three years or so, it had changed to actual good food and stuff for breakfast and lunch. I'll probably get back to that, eventually.

People just have to stop giving me cookies.

And those rolos melted on pretzel things.

And brownies.

And cake.

Navigate: (Previous 10 Entries | Next 10 Entries)