Monday things

Well, been married a year come yesterday. That's a pretty interesting achievement, in today's world anyhow. It seems like a very long time. Like Joe said today at lunch, we've moved three times since that wedding, with a fourth time coming before Christmas. We've traveled from Philadelphia to Florida on I-95 (not missing any pieces in between!), and from the Atlantic Ocean to Oklahoma City on I-40. It's been a busy, ground-covering year. Wow.

To celebrate the day, we decided to do as little as possible. This consisted of an extreme "relaxation" afternoon at a friend's house, enjoying french toast for lunch and watching half of the first season of "Arrested Development." (Will blog about the show some other time.) Perhaps not the most edifying way to spend an anniversatry, but it did the trick as far as chilling out went. Besides, we've been celebrating the big event for a least a month, off and on, especially a couple weeks ago when we thought that we wouldn't be together for "thuh day" itself. I think it'll do.

I get to fly back East with a cat on Saturday. The drama is worth sparing, but Reese and I will travel with many prayers and milagros about our persons, in hopes that no snitty passengers notice my dander-bearing companion and raise a stink. The Airline is on my side, but that isn't saying a whole heap of a lot. We arrive in EDT land at 9pm on Saturday, and have to hop in the car Sunday morning to return home. In the meantime, my Mr. Kitty will have been retrieved. If they don't each know what the other smells like by the beginning of the trip, they will by the end. Thank goodness poor Elizabeth will be along for the ride, for referee purposes if nothing else.

Speaking of minor land wars, another member of the Class of '08 has fallen into the military pit. Dave heads out to Navy something (OCS? Boot?) on Sunday, oily oily in the morning. This makes 5 grads out of 97, so just over 5% so far...we're also working on a couple more prospects who don't [yet] want to give up a steady diet and air conditioning in order to serve their country. Disappointingly, two non-cool (just kidding) classmates were unable to muster what it took to survive the Corps' OCS last summer/fall, or we would have been well on our way to 10% by now. Still, we're pretty sure that 5% is a fairly high number, judging from school history. Even more impressive is the whopping 2% of the class that has committed itself just to foreign languague studies with the US Navy. Now, if we can just get some more of those bums working in bars around DC to pack up their butts and get a real life...

Too funny

In light of my last post, I suppose, all the google ads on my publish page were for ethernet cable, patch cords, and flea medicine.

Chicken Fried Cat

So, Reeses the cat (that's her, lounging upon my increasingly cushy stomach) is reaching new heights in her quest to die young. Power cables are now the foe--chewing through them is her game.

Fortunately, the only ones she's had a go at have either been (a) unplugged or (b) ethernet cables and therefore not carrying any voltage. She severed her second ethernet cord in a week this morning. Of course, you know, this means war.

Unlike the "real" power cords, which are in plain sight (and now unplugged for cat's safety), the internet port is way up underneath the bed, so the edible ends are out of my usual reach. This means that little Reeses can dedicate the necessary hours to chewing her way through the cable before I catch her. That is, before the internet goes off for no apparent reason. Thus I shopped today for the hottest pepper I could find. Thanks be to diversity, the Commissary was carrying habenero peppers today (at a whopping $10.00 a pound!!!). I got two of the little suckers, anda hazmat suit for Joe. He gets to cut one up and rub it on the ethernet cable when he gets home. I shall spend no more moneys on cat snacks in the form of computer cables.

Next step is to do all the regular power cords, too, but for now they just get put away whenever I'm not watching over them. Stupid cat.

I, Pharisee

There really ought to be a way to proofread one's posts. On paper, or something...I never see the boo-boos until they've been published a week or longer. At that point, I feel like anyone who's got good sense has already seen the boo-boos and written me off for the write-off that I am. Part of my problem, though, is a simple physical inability to press the proper key. My IQ (as mentioned before?) has been hijacked by some small being inside me. I'm getting dumber by the week.

Terminator: Slavation

I spelled it that way on purpose. Since the first time I saw a commercial or walked by a poster, I've only been able to read the word that way. Sorry.

Still, there's a vague kind of irony in calling it "Slavation" if you spend time around people who are, indeed, slaves to the culture of going to see movies. Good movies, bad movies, fair-to-middlin' movies all get their share of eyeball time from a certain group of people, simply because they want to see it. Maybe because they've "always" gone to see movies on opening night, and they feel honor bound to continue the tradition. Maybe because "everyone else" is going. Maybe not.

How come this thing happen? How come? Why don't they only go to see movies that are good, that they've checked into beforehand, that they really feel will add something to life? I mean, I've seen my share of lemons in the last 20 years, but they've been rented or borrowed or otherwise cheaply obtained--I don't pay $20 to take myself on a date ($40 if we eat something) in order to walk out two hours later and so, "Well, that was a waste of time."

How come this happen?

Another Midnight Episode

Closer to the real thing, too. I'm really not sure what is bringing this coughing on. I know that I've got rattly stuff in my throat, but what makes some nights like this and others not is a mystery. The stupid medicine is not a delineating factor.

This time, I seem to have perfected a half-asleep mode that allows me to not realize I've been laying there coughing for two hours. Usually, I get up long before then and try and find some remedy, inadequate though it might be. Now, my throat is so irritated, I don't know that anything I've got on hand is going to help. Don't have any lozenges, no Robitussin, and can't make tea without any, well, tea. Not that any of this isn't my own darn fault, but there it is. Like I said, it isn't that this occurs every night.

Sigh. I thought I was done with this. Dealt with it for almost two straight months, kicked the thing, then came back out here to Oklahoma and it starts almost all over again. The disease is missing this time, though, rather curiously--no sinus problems. Did I never really get over the cough at all? What is wrong with me? Did my doctor leave me with a bigger problem a month ago and not realize it? Will this be the story for the rest of my life?

Grrrrr.

This article appeared in the The Daily News today, in Philadelphia. It's more or less benign, I suppose, unless you're bothered by reading in a liberal tabloid about the demise of a conservative broadsheet.

However, the "staffers who gathered" are friends of mine, personal friends, and it's creepy to know the story behind what hundreds of thousands of Philadelphians will read today and simply dismiss. How many stories escape my notice every single day, yet spell disaster and harship for some other person and their family?

Real Midnight Radio

At least, EDT it is midnight. Here, it's only 11pm. Regardless, it's be an bloody full hour and a half since I first started trying to go to sleep. The medication I am supposedly taking to "keep me from coughing in the night" is proving largely useless--no matter what time of day I take it, it wears off by about 9pm. This is still true if I take the medicine at 8pm. If I fail to take it at all, it seems to have the same effect. Weather, climate, proximity to animals, nothing seems to change my situation. I've been dealing with some incarnation of this stupid allergy/cough thing since mid-March. I have had it. I'm miserable.

This stinks. I am so incredibly, unbelieveable tired. All I want in the whole world is to sleep. I can't lay down, because I'll start coughing. Even if I don't, I'll have to get up within three minutes to use the bathroom because all this coughing makes me, well, need to go about every three minutes. I'm so tired!!!!!!!!!! This is awful. The solution, then, is to sit in front of the computer and numb my brain until the rest of me is so beyond exhausted that it goes to sleep, coughing and bathroom trips notwithstanding. Then, I carefully get in bed without waking it and hope to last at least three hours before regaining consciousness.

Meanwhile, Joseph sleeps the sleep of the dead. And unpregnant. And unallergic.

Lamentabili

Sigh. One feels so grossly ill-equipped to actually discuss moral matters with the world at large. There simply is no common ground on which to stand. I cannot begin to discuss rights and justice with someone who does no believe in absolute truth. I cannot begin to discuss the integrity of marriage with someone who rejects nature. I cannot begin to discuss either with someone who, to put it simply, does not believe in God. My only weapons are against some kind of aristotelian semi-heretic. I need too many things to be similar in order to "debate" someone else. I can't make headway on the sand dunes that I'm faced with instead.

The large family my adversary was born into has provided him with an unshakeable opinion that abortion is wrong. Somehow, he and his siblings share a deep love, deeper than the love they have for their parents in some ways, that makes the idea of "not having" one of them unthinkable.

However, that's as deep as it goes. It's wrong because it's wrong, basically--I mean, which sibling would you have chosen to abort? There is no underlying belief in the sanctity of life in general, the notion that life is a gift from Almighty God not to be toyed with. There is no feeling that somehow abortion is a grave moral evil, contrary to Natural and Divine Laws. It's just wrong. Like killing a fox in England. It simply isn't done.

I know this for a fact. If you pursue abortion down the political road with my adversary, he gets peeved. He complains that you shouldn't make politics a "one issue thing." Somehow, abortion is wrong enough to object to, but not wrong enough to make you utterly and completely distrust and despise someone who thinks it is not wrong. Someone, no less, who spends their energy and their influence making sure that it is made as available as prevalent as possible. My adversary thinks such an attitude of distrust and despising is silly--think of all the other isssues there are to consider, he says. This is a silly thing to base your whole attitude on.

My adversary does not believe contraception is wrong. He has no problem with IVF, gay marriage, surrogate motherhood, artificial wombs, cloning, the creation of genetic children for gay couples, or stem cell research. I cannot in any way approach him on these subjects. What is being damaged, what is being destroyed by all these evils is a good in which he does not believe. I have no common ground with him on which to discuss the integrity and sanctity of marriage. He loves babies, but not enough to marry someone who wanted to have babies of her own. Ever.
What makes these people this way? He was raised a Catholic. He has siblings, older and younger, who are raising Catholic families. He has siblings that are altar servers, siblings who have considered the priesthood. What happened?

Have a little Hyfrydol

So, this post is funny only to people who recognize the word in the title right away. If I have to explain it, it won't be as funny when you're done.

Anyhow. Was reminded in Mass yesterday of an old friend, my very earliest days of email (when I still used my mom's account), and what happens when educated people with senses of humor say whatever comes into their head. Thus, as they say, was born Hyfrydol: The Only Cure for An Upset Cello.

It does, after all, sound like some sort of perscription stuff-for-what-ails-you, and good ol' Mark insisted on pointing it out. Which was all fine and good, until we played a fanfare prelude on the tune in band the next semester--with HYFRYDOL [for-what-ails-you] emblazoned across the top for all the world to giggle at. Not that giggling is a problem, but when you are not only the only oboe in the band but also the only oboe in the band with a significant solo, being struck by the funniness of it all is just a perscription for disaster.

Especially since Mark is never out of your field of vision, sitting like he does at the head of the clarinet section. Drat him. Giggle giggle, went the clarinet.

To clean off a hard drive is a dangerous thing...

Oh my gosh!!!!!!!!! What was I thinking!!!!?????!!!!!?????

A Breakthrough

So, I've discovered that I'm actually quite a remarkable writer. My writing is witting, personable, fun, and speaks to the reader. Unfortunately, this only applies if I am writing to a specific person about a specific thing. For example, if I write to 2LT Jungle Man, my writing is exactly and perfectly suited to him, his reading style, his personality, and our relationship. If I write to Donna, the same applies.

I decided yesterday that making the whole blog a letter to my readers would fail utterly, because the personal touch of "writing to a specific person about a specific thing" would be lost. Then, I considered just putting up my letters to individuals instead, since they've already got their fire and spirit.

Over Jungle Man's dead body.

Apologia pro doing nothing

I just had to mention again how cool appliances are. I fill them up, I push the button, and the house is filled with deceptively purposeful, busy, businesslike noises instantly. In the meantime, I do nothing at all and yet still feel like I'm getting so very much accomplished. Ha ha!

The Score: Dirty Dishes - 1; Me - 0

Well, after talking and talking and failing to knock on wood, I've found a smell that makes me sick. Oh well. My allergy medication must be working, because that sour milk was the first thing I've really smelled in two months.

Can anyone tell me why there are no fingernail clippers in the house?? Someone I know can't leave home without a pair, and it looks like he left home with every single one we owned. I know for a fact there are two in his car...just in case he needs to do both hands at once.

Blah again?

Unlike my beloved spouse, who has recently exhibited a rather pronounced proclivity for authorship, I feel less and less inclined to write anything these days. Shall I mention letting my soft palate get away from my brain and say things to my dearest friend that it shouldn'tve? Shall I mention having blood pressure and a pulse so high this morning that the technician made me come back at the end of the doctor's visit to check it again (it was normal)? Shall I mention the baking sunshine that's making the puddles in my front yard from the [concurrent] driving rainstorm be warmer than most people would want to bathe in? Shall I mention not feeling like putting away all the stuff that I sorted out to put away? Shall I mention trying to nap in four different places, only to be pursued and interrupted by a dreaming kitty?

Nah.

Piggy Flu

Sorry for the lengthy hiatus. Vacation, you know. Cuts into one's blog time dreadfully.

So, they're telling people not to fly anyplace for any reason; don't use public restrooms; if you think you're sick at all, don't go to work; stay close to home; don't eat out without great caution; wash your hands all the time; if you're considered "at risk" don't go ANYPLACE for ANY reason. Sigh. How excessively inconvenient. I had at least two trips to Oklahoma planned between now and August. I have a husband to visit! I have a long road trip to Virginia and Pennsylvania I have to take! I have public restrooms I simply must utilize on the way!

Darn the CDC. Why any group of people would want to spend all their time studying and trying to trap billions of deadly little microbial terror-mongering bacteria and viruses is beyond me. Of course, somebody has to do it and I for one am glad they're up there in their rubber suits with their microscopes, but good heavens. It's still a funny breed of fella who does it for fun.

So anyway, in the interests of the common good of all those who do not make a living in the air travel industry, they're trying to scare people into not flying, since they can't prevent us any other way. Is it for real? It is just a giant conspiracy theory? Who knows, right? And who would risk getting and dying from the Swine Flu testing the theory that it was all bunk....right? I think that's the assumption they're operating under.

Bother.

:-(

Stinks to be going away tomorrow. I know I'm going to be very busy, and have lots to do, and enjoy the next month or so, but it still stinks. Can't flying be free? Can't everything be closer together?

2,814 miles

From Sunday morning to Sunday morning, that's how far we've driven this week. (Mr. Kitty was there for 586 of them, too.) At the moment, it's just me here in Wild America, battling the mice and ants as we prepare to leave Army Lodging and head for the apartment (yay!). Oklahoma is a woundrous strange place, if somewhat misrepresented. For one thing, one ought not ride a horse across the plain. One will be thrown from the horse by the occasional rogue gale-force wind gust. Also, no corn, no elephants, and no elephant's eyes. And no Weepin Willers. I think I'm in the wrong bit of Oklahoma.

According to the Oklahoma State Wildlife Management Office, "15% [of the snakes in Oklahoma] are potentially harmful to humans. Venomous species include the copperhead, cottonmouth, western diamondback rattlesnake, timber rattlesnake, prairie rattlesnake, western massasauga, and western pigmy rattlesnake. Snakes are found statewide and in all habitats. Some species thrive in urban and suburban environments."

No word yet on whether feeding the mice to the rattlesnakes is cruelty to either species. I'm looking in to it.

I'm turning in to a cat.

At least, that's what Mr. Kitty thinks. All I do all day long is lay on the bed, or go throw up. Thus, at least using his infallible kitty behavioral logic skills, I must be a cat. After all, that's all that he does. In return, he's turning into a person--today alone he has eaten mixed vegetables, pasta sauce, and a shortbread cookie. (Never leave food lying around.) Just so you know, normal cats do not do this sort of thing. They eat cat food, house plants, and small animals.

Not much else going on still. I realized today that I still had not received a W2 form from my last employer (ah, what a move will do to your memory), so I had to call and try to track it down. They'll get back with me Monday. Grrr...the tax clock is ticking. I did, however, remember to pay all the bills this month. This is the first time in a while that a major life-changing event (i.e. move, vacation, Christmas) has not fallen in the middle of a billing cycle, so I feel quite accomplished in knowing that no bill collector will come a'knocking at my door.

Still not much going on since the last paragraph. I think I'm done here. More posts later on, maybe. After the cat eats something else wierd.

Quiet on the Eastern Front

Sorry for being gone...a long time. Many company was come. Now all are gone, and it's just me and Mr. Kitty again. (Peace! Quiet! Wow!) Well, me and Mr. Kitty, and Lil' Critter. Lil' Critter is making me sick again today, too. Ugh.



Okay, doggie is pictured below. And she was driving me something near to 'round the bend, in case my last post didn't convey that. Thus, my very wonderful husband, declaring that he loved me more than the dog, agreed to start looking for a new home for Bella. I wasn't up to the 24/7 training aspect, nor to the go-out-at-night-in-the-cold-and-rain-for-business aspect. Nor would I be free to travel and visit him this summer. All these things added unto one another, and lo and behold the Great Miracle happened. Joe's younger brothers find out we have a dog, find out we're looking for a new home, and go "ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ohh ohh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh !!!!! WE WANT THE DOG!!!!! PLEASE PLEASEPLEASE PLEASEPLEASE PLEASE!!!!!" So Bella left this morning, along with sisters and brothers and mothers-in-law, and headed north to PA. A happy ending for all. In fact, the brothers who did not visit have been steadily texting since Tuesday morning, wanting to know "when r u cming home???" They're very excited to have a dog. I'm very excited that now my house will not smell like a dog, that I don't have to walk her any more, and that my cat can now leave the upstairs bathroom with impugnity.

Not much else going on. I ought to be cleaning the house, really going at it from stem to stern, but it's raining and a little chilly, so I don't feel like moving around. Laundry and dish washing machines are operating in the other room, and that's just going to have to be sufficient domestic activity until further notice. *Yawn.* Maybe I'll nap.