update on the kittehs

my kittens are sick.... sorta.
Orion has had a continual sneeze. The vet attributes it to allergies and my house, I'll admit, is def on the upperside of the dust containment median threshold. No worries though, right? Especially as the grandfather dumped off a ton of shtuff the other week. Well, right after he did that, Neci started to sneeze and her eyes (more specifically her third eyelids) looked irritated. We had a vet appointment for boostershots the next day, so I told the vet and she said it's probibly just irritated. Ok, so I have two cats, one sneezing, the other w pink eyelids, but it's normal. right??

I may or may not have mentioned in previous posts that I have never before had me a fuzzy pet. They've always been fish, fireflys, critterpillers, cicadas, or other bugs that I managed to sneak in and not let my parents find. Something fuzzy that actually gets sick, goodness, who knew? So Neci's eyes don't get better and hte weekend comes. I debate going back to the vet, but on Monday I get home and Neci, who had been all lovey and snuggly on sunday and monday morning (translate that to "sluggish") is on my bed with her eyes gunked shut. So I use a wet towel to ungunk them and immediately call the vet. Appointment for the next day and we go. Poor Neci was lost without Orion, but we made due. Vet looks at Neci's eyes and says

"It's Chlamydia"

yes, my cat has the clap. The two viruses, human and cat, however, are different. So all jokes said, done, and repeated till old, my cat is not a tramp. So now we have oral amoxicillian and two sets of eye drops. Its a good thing that he's always been rather calm. She's also learned that Mama doesn't let go till all the pink stuff goes down her fuckin' throat. Even if it takes 6 tries, so she just sits still and takes it now. A cat who follows directions? Who knew??

Two curries down and good! One up in the air and planning!

I made a typical vegetable curry the other day, adapted from a recipe in a cookbook of mine. It was utterly delicious. I had hoped to add eggplant to it, but I baked the eggplant for a little too long, so I said “hell with it all” and tossed some cooked rice in the bottom of a casserole dish, next layer was the eggplant scooped from the shells and mashed, and the the curry. I ate that all week.

The next attempt was a pumpkin apple sweet potato lentil curry ( http://www.ivu.org/recipes/holiday/pumpkin-curry-j.html ) (link is to recipe). That too turned out very well, and this time I was not the only one to eat it.

This friday I’m having a pot luck and I’ll be trying East African Eggplant Curry ( http://www.aubergines.org/recipes.php?eggplant=2341 ). Wish me luck!!

See more progress on: Learn how to make curry

Brewers jam and boys

Him: "I feel bad, talking to you and keeping you away from your work."
Me:"You know, having someone where I can look forward to talking to them is actually quite motivating, I feel like I need to get something done because there's something definate to look forward to."... especially since he can not only keep up but also contribute to my conversations.

This is a paraphrase of a conversation this past evening between me and a gent I've been spending an inordinate amount of time with both in person and on the phone. Label it whatever you want, but I like him and he's cool.

I'm rather excited, as I was getting to the point where I felt I should start recording my social meetings with the opposite sex and publish them in a book. One with all the proper disclaimers that "they really aren't real people, if it seems so, it's all coincidental."

I met him at Brewer's Jam. There's a long story of many levels, as my stories get at times, but the "short" version is as follows:

My friend had relationship problems starting on Monday. Really REALLY bad problems, so we decided to go out Friday Night. She gets nice and trashed on PBR while we see Cutthroat Shamrock and Zombie Bazooka Patrol. While there, we see someone who is mutual friends with her and someone who used to be in the department. We start hanging with their group a bit and find out that those that don't need to work are going to brewer's jam. yay!

So we go to Brewer's Jam and see those guys. Don't really hang out with them as we have our own group from the department there: S who studies holes in kid's heads, C the 1st year PhD, friend with problems and her mother, Mssr. E (from past adventures) and see a few others from the department also. We're all having fun and Mssr. E and I are plesently having random conversations and "cheer"ing sessions with anyone who happens to walk by. My favorite move is to say to some dude passing by "OH MY GOD! YOU MADE IT!!! THAT'S SOOOO AWESOME, MAN!!" and try to get them in a conversation till they realize that they really don't know me (many actually asked if they knew me) and that I'm just crazy/drunk.

Well, in line this dude is wearing a Tshirt saying something like "Mustache Warrior" or "Mustache Fighting Leaugue" or something related to mustaches and violence. So, like one would do, I say to him "does this mean that you battle mustaches, or that you fight while wearing a mustache." He brings up some arcane celebration known as Mustache May. A friend and I start psuedoquoting from the Camelot song about May "Well, May is lusty, gusty, and busty. Mustache though, it is not!"

The gent starts hanging out with us. Not uncommon, actually, so I'm just taking it in stride. Always good to meet more interesting people, correct? He and I start talking, and in retrospect, he really doesn't talk to many others in the group, mostly just me. But I probibly didn't notice it because the conversation was not forced. It was a pleasent conversation of brewers jam drunk observations, pleasentries about types of beer, random puns, and other such things that are natural in a conversation mit ze Gexx.

After a bit he admits he needs to find the loo, as one would need to at a beer fest. So he asks for my number so he can find us later. We swap numbers. Why not? My drinkaged mind is not phased by such. If anything, I'll end up putting him in my "do not pick up" phone catagory (specifically for bad/not thinking/"it was a good idea at the time" decision phone number swaps so I don't accidentally pick up when someone attempts to arrange a booty call). It's all good. I have planned all my escape routes.

Well, he calls back a bit later to find us. Not right away, but after he hung out with *his* friends for a bit. That's good, methinks, as it means he's not creepily obsessed like some odd birds I've dealt with (I told you this earlier, I should right a book about all that crap and those crazy dudes). But we do end up meeting again toward the end. When he goes to leave the jam itself, he asks if I would be interested in meeting up later (after we've had a chance to sober up some), and I figure why not and tell him to call me.

He then surprises me (those who hate adorableness scroll down. I mean you, Betel!! No, not really.) by asking if I would allow him to kiss me on the cheek before he heads out. I'm so flabbergasted (consider my mental state at the time) and so cynical from past dude-speriances (book! book!) and think that it's so sweet and at the least it'll make a good blog story that I agree. And he does. Awwww!

And it has made a good story - but the whole story isn't done yet.

So beer is running low and Brewer's Jam is wrapping up. My peeps are coagulating and heading out. My girl with problems and her mom go together, and the rest apparently left for pizza. I was invited, and they all thought that I had been invited, but no one actually completed the inviting circle by telling me what was going on. They left thinking someone else told me and that I was with one of the other groups. No worries, but suddenly they weren't their. Apparently my missing wasn't noticed until the couple/three cars (driven by the sobers) got to the pizza place. By that point, it was too late. I see the dudes from the evening before, and they're like "where's your crew?" I respond that my posse has abandonded me, but that I'll just hang at my office till I can drive home. They then invite me to go with them to get pizza (not where the others were, though).

So we go to get pizza, walking through parts of downtown that are perfectly fine to walkthough as a group during the day. We get the pizza and eat it, and I figure we'll head back soon, no worries, right? Well, they start to drink again. I ask what their plan is. Come to find out they're friends with one of the waitresses, and that she'll drive them back to their car when she gets out of work - at 1AM. Gah! It's 9 right now and I'm ready to pass out (tired, not drunk. i spent the whole day outside!!). I scramble through my phone looking for someone who could be sober and was not out of town. 67 people in my phone, and who do I decide is the best idea? The gent from earlier.

I know many of you will say that I took a bad risk. But getting a taxi would have been too visible, and I didn't want to walk back alone. I like to say I'm a decent judge of character and don't often trust people. And I haven't been too wrong in the past. 99% of people I've trusted have atleast been a decent human being with no intent of violence toward me (ax murdering, shooting, etc). Pricks are still decent human beings, in my book, because the important part of their moral compass is still intact. Besides, might as well find out sooner rather than later, right?

I text him "Wouldn't mind seeing you again, but I'm stuck in Old City, and my car is on campus." I get a message back saying "I'll be there in 15 minutes." After about 15 minutes, he texts saying he's outside, so I pay my part hastily and run off, thanking the dudes for allowing me to accompany them and sharing their pizza (it was damned good pizza). I bound out and almost knock right into the gent, and he drives me back to my car, like any decent human being would do.

I realize that I just totally used someone's feelings of good will toward me, and I feel horrendously guilty. Especially since he seemed really really cool while we talked on the ride to my car, so I suggest we get a drink together. We do, and I find out that we're rather compatable, and we've been meeting up and talking on the phone rather much ever since (yay).

So yeah, that's one of my latest stories. He'll get a name... eventually. You know it takes a while for that to happen. But I think he'll be showing up quite a bit.

i'm back from the dead!

It's starting to get chilly here. Which is good. I filled up my gas tank and exclaimed "wow - finally it's feeling like fall".

So - excitement - this weekend is brewers jam. Six hours of beer drinking awesomeness with bands and all that stuff. I'm going to park by my office so I can hang out there if I get to the point of not being able to drive.

I've been doing some pleasure reading, which is bad. i should instead be working on my many many other projects. But some days and nights I really really really don't want to do anything intellegent.


Janet Evonavich - this author has done a whole slew of light chick books. The main character in most of them, Stephanie Plum, is a bond agent with plenty of her own foiables. With her pluck and the help of her boyfriend, a homocide cop, and her lust-buddy, a professional bounty hunter, she manages to bring in the bad guys. Sounds sorta cliche, but there's enough twists and jokes that it's an easy fun read.
Preferred refreashement: Laird's Apple Brandy over ice or extra strong Mojitos (I grow my own mint). Peanut Butter Chocolate Ice Cream

Song of Solomon - Awesome book that I picked up because I wanted to read something "controversial" for banned books week. I love her way of description, tossing out details that over the course of the story are not only important but create a seamless narrative and description.
The main plot is of a Macon "Milkman" Dead, the son of a well done landlord and the grandson of a well respected doctor growing up in the middle of the century in Michagan. The story follows his negotiation of his race (african-american / black) and class (upper middle) not in the general world, but in his community and his family. Once he thinks he realizes where he stands and how to improve the public's view of him (become financially independant) he, no kidding, goes on a multi-state huntfor a stow of gold his father mentioned in stories. In the search, he meets individuals who were but characters in his father's stories of childhood, causeing him to search deeper for where "his people" come from.
Preferred refreshment: hot tea and chocolate chip cookies, South Paw Light

Hocus Pocus - Kurt Vonnegut
I've always loved Vonnegut, I'm sorry. This book, published in 1990 tells the story of an ex-professor ex-soldier who loves older women, fought in Vietnam, taught at a college for disabled individuals, and is currently being held for trial for his involvement in a deadly prison break. Vonnegut writes with such wonderful detached sections that, after devoting some time, make sense. Running jokes, themes, symbolism: this book is an english teacher's paradise. And his character (telling the story) doesn't swear as his grandmother told him "profanity and obscenity entitle people who don't want unpleasant information to close their ears and eyes to you." One key theme in this book is how the character can't stand his service in Vietnam, not because of the any inhumanity, horrible sites, or anti-war stance. Instead, it is brought by the futility of the war and the public's anger of the government leading the country into such (in the end) meaningless conflict to general animosity toward the return of the soldiers. The main character is consistently jealous of World War II veterans because of the respect the country's populous gave to them. This theme is one that the many yellow ribbon on our vehicles is aimed at preventing. Some call it "patriotism light" but instead, it's supporting the safety and return of the troops and not the continual conflicts that the ruling class tends to get its lower classes into.
Preferred refreshment: Cabernet Savagnon or Pearl Pomegranate Vodka. Mochi


Class struggle! Class struggle! I just eat it up!!! Yum yum!!!

Kittens! pictures coming

So I now have cats. Last week I had a cat. Last month I had fish. I still have fish, no worries there.

How this transpired:
A few weeks ago I helped run a public education program at one of the local historic sites. There, a volunteer brought a carrier with four kittens, two long haired, two short haired, two gray, two butterscotch (blue and buff, respectively if you want to use proper terminology, but we aren't worried). Not a one the same, a mendel square of distribution. As we had no one at our section, we played with the kittens. One short haired gray one fell asleep on me, and the volunteer said "they need a home." Well, I may be a heartless bitch, but even that was too much for me. So at the end of the day, when we picked everything up, I looked for the cat woman and told her I would love to take one home. I ended up picking the little gray one. All of the remaining kittens, I was told, were male. So we rode home, totally unsafe. I stuck him on the passenger seat, and he (thankfully) meowed the whole five miles home. He made his way to the back seat, to the back shelf (that one against the back window, you know what I mean). We get home, and I bring the little, stinky, flea ridden fuzz ball right to my massive claw foot tub and stick him in it. Then I go to the supermarket and buy food, litter, a plastic shoe box, dawn (safe for kittens, bad for fleas I was told), and a pack of toy mice. Then we go, and he has a bath. He's rather patient with that, i'm surprised. In the next few days I discover he has "butt worms" (I learn that they are specifically tapeworms), I set up an appointment with the vet (reccomended by a friend), and the receptionist at the vet reccomends some OTC worm pills for kittens. I then go out and buy all the pampering supplies: pet bed (fuzzy brown), more toys (squeeky frog), brushes, lead, coller, tag (I decided to name him Orion as he continually pounced; I was thinking Siddartha but he was in no way calm enough), harness (yes, he will walk on a lead), and all that stuff. He sleeps with me, but a full night's sleep is rare as he wakes up constantly and thinks that my lips, ears, and nose are toys. We go to the vet, and I'm informed that Orion is female. Oh well, the name will stay. She gets her shots, more worm medicine (another type was also infesting her), and Advantage. She is 1.9 pounds and 2 months old at this point, and her coat is noticably much better than when she got to my house a week prior.

My professor, after 3 beers, asks me how I'm doing and I tell him that it's uneventful, save for the kitten. He takes that to mean "I am a single bitter female who has given up on human companionship" and proceeds to offer me life encouragement and relationship advice. Yay.

Still, she refuses to let me sleep through the evening. I start to close my bedroom door to keep her out, but she just cries. After some consulting about the nature of kittens, I decide I need another one.

So this past Saturday my neighbor and I went to the mall (we both have a wedding this month) and then to the petstore where the feral cat rescue people set up. I talk with them, and we pick out a quirky 3 month old female calico kitten. Her tail is broken. The tails of all her littermates are broken in the same spot, actually. This just adds to her personality. I pick up some extra supplies: another carrier to take her home with, a cream fuzzy bed, and a pink flamingo squeeky plushy. I take her home and she and Orion really don't hit it off. They tolerate each other, but continue to hiss. One took her post on my knees, and the other on my chest (I was laying down reading) and they hissed at each other, then stared, then they fell asleep. So I think they'll learn each other's roles and deal well.

Saturday night we go out to grab some pizza and listen to a band. I figure it will give the cats some time without my interferance. The band was relatively decent (all cover tunes), the pizza was marvelous (sausage, artichoke, olive, tomato), Florida lost, UT won, and dancing was uneventful (as long as you don't count the dude who kept rubbing his arse against mine and pissed me off enough that I kicked back against the back of his knees, causing him to collapse). We get sorta bored, and in trying to figure out what to do next (it's only midnight, if we go home now, we're pathetic), we decide that since I still have a bottle of Pearl in the freezer that one member of our party brought to the last potluck, I should host people and we'll play with the kittens.

The kittens are overjoyed. They love people. I'm glad about that. Kitten number two, in being a little spitfire when Orion gives her a hard time gets her name Neci (pronounced by me a NEE-see), derived from Latin for Fire.

The two of them are odd. They can both eat from the food dish at the same time and not get mad at each other. But if they get bored, they get all over each other. Orion was rather nippy and sorta agressive before, but she's taken to hissing rather often now. Neci is calm and inquisitive until Orion starts hissing and batting at her. Then she's all sparks. Orion has started giving her a wide berth, but I'll walk into a room and find Orion ready to pounce if Neci walks through the door. So when she sees me, she looks guilty and tries to look like she was going to play with a piece of paper, dust, or invisible string on the other side of the room. Maybe there's some relation to how Neci like red wine and Orion likes hot sauce. I need to remember that the two can now get onto the table themselves.

I need to get a lead, harness, collar, and such for Neci. I wasn't too pleased with the selection at the petstore there.

So now I just need to work on my house, my halloween costume, and the 30 papers due soon. Yay SEAC!