CW 034 – There is no 32 and 33
034 05-17-07
The months of May and June once meant to me the end of the school year, and a new beginning for the summer, but NO MORE. No, now I know that it doesn’t end, it NEEEEVER ends. It doesn’t even feel like a relief anymore. It doesn’t feel like anything.
I think I must be in a bad mood this morning, for I am unusually doom and gloom. Typing hasn’t been great either. It’s been nearly a week since I’ve been at this computer, and it seems foreign. My nails are the longest they’ve ever been in my eighteen years, and it feels weird. I should I have noticed this earlier, so I guess I must not have been typing much lately outside of this class.
I learned some fascinating things on wiki the other day about fingernails, like where those little white spots come from (sometimes an indicator of disease, but usually damage to the fingertip area), and that the big white crescent at the cuticle is called a lunula. MS Word does not like lunula.
In other news, I finally got a chance to check out Wicked, by Gregory Maguire. It’s kinda raunchy. Not quite what I was expecting, and it looks like it’s going to have a rather different tone from the musical. Well, that’s okay, I mostly liked the show for the songs and the excellent casting of the leads anyway.
In other, other news, I’m still waiting on the sixth and final volume of Mediator to be available in ebook format. I should have marked what date I put it on hold, because I could be waiting for up to a maximum of 21 days. I guess I got cocky after the fifth was available after only one day. I’d never sat down and read a whole ebook before this. It was surprisingly quick reading, but then, so is this series in general. And partly I was afraid to walk away from it for fear that my download would expire and I would have to wait another week before I could pick up reading it again. (Sure enough, once I finished and closed the file, it vanished from my desktop.)
The Raven came in, the newsletter from the Peter S. Beagle official something or other. I thought it was a fansite, but they’re oft connected with the man himself, so who knows. Anyway, it seems PSB has finally won a coveted Nebbie award after many a year of near misses. Or something, I’m paraphrasing with extreme prejudice. Don’t listen to me, go read about it yourself. I mention this because at the end, they added an adorable picture of The Raven’s mascot, this fluffy white cat with a green eye and a blue eye. That’s interesting enough, but then you notice that the pupil of the blue eye is much more dilated than the pupil of the green eye, giving kitty a bit of a stoned, glazed look.
The times, they are a-changing.
Has anyone else noticed how little actual writing I’ve done since I’ve been in this class? Or been bothered by it?
Yeah, things have been rather slow lately. Everything winding down. Nothing ever…happens. I mean, sure stuff happens, but it’s the same stuff that always happens. Nothing out of the routine, and the only things that differentiate the days are maybe different thoughts here and there. Doesn’t anyone know what I mean? Because stuff always happens, but nothing ever happens.
Uh oh. That sounds like the start of every crappy fantasy novel I’ve ever read. Fortunately, something should start happening immediately.
I missed the last two days of 314, and I do believe I am now hopelessly behind on the final project, and this is largely due to the fact that I hate Flash with all that I am. How ironic that as I type this, I visualize the perfect splash page, though it would be a pain in the neck to animate.
Where have I been lately? It turns out that UPN and WB are dead and reformed as something called CW and they’ve gone and axed several long running favorites. Not that I ever watched any of them.
Ooooo…..
Look look, I have stalkers!
Lizzy got really really mad and started hissing at them. 
There was a third one too, sitting on the awning further away from the window.
Reanimate your feet
First thing’s first: Move your dead bones.
I know I said I’d continue the account of our getting the kittens, but that didn’t pan out. Instead I played with them. They’re fuzzy.
We’ve had some company over every few weekends, so Lizzy and Freya hang out under my bed a lot. They sleep so veeeeeerry much. Except when they’re chasing each other through the bathroom and down the hall. They weigh about three pounds each, but they somehow manage to sound like my brother stampeding around the house.
Oh, and they’ve got some kind of parasite. We found a worm on Lizzy one day, and now they’re taking a couple of medicines. Freya miaos the most pathetically cute miao when it’s time for her meds. Poor baby. Kisses, fuzzy lumpkin.
“Da Kitties! <3” Remixed
‘Twas a warm Thursday in July, much like the one we had a few days ago, except the one I’m thinking of happened ten days ago, not a few days ago. As I write, I enjoy a hot steaming cup of Ramen, and watch My Neighbor Totoro with Ryan. Incidentally, the Japanese title is Tonari no Totoro. I’ve got the soundtrack, and learned for the first time that the original opening and ending themes were in Japanese. Sounds obvious, but at seven, my world revolved around English.
The point.
On Thursday, July 14, 2005, my family once again had cats for the first time in nearly eight years.
As a child, my memories are largely filled with the most wonderful old cat, a big girl at sixteen pounds. Long black fur, with a curious white patch on her neck, intelligent green eyes, and the softest paws. It sounds silly, but Gizmo raised me. She was originally a stray with kittens when my aunt first found her, and she lived with them and the family’s other seven cats. My aunt was sort of the “crazy-cat-lady,” except she’s fun. I seem to take after her a lot. Gizmo was the queen of the lot, agressive about her territory, and she didn’t tolerate the other cats. That’s why she came to us. I was still small then, and Gizmo sort of “adopted” me. She came to me whenever I was sad or lonely, she protected me when my dad tried to pull my tooth.
I think she knew she was dying. Every night for a long time, she came to me, sat on me and purred, kneaded my shoulder, occasionally meowing and making me feel warm. On one trip home from the vet, I noticed moisture in the corner of her eyes, like teardrops.
She died at the end of August 1997, a few days before school started. My mother, brother, and I were in Modesto visiting my grandparents, and we had an uncle and aunt visiting our home. My father called us, told us, and we cried for a long time that night. When we got home, he showed us the patch in the garden where he buried her.
For a long time, it looked like our home would never be blessed with a warm animal again. Ryan was born in March the next year, and a new animal would be too much to handle along with a baby.
Cont’d later.
Da kitties! <3 ^^
Yay! There’s a new Feline No-Kill Shelter nearby, and we went to check it out today. It was pretty nice; unlike other animal shelters, the cats seemed pretty comfortable and energetic. Several were climbing on the cage walls and trying to reach out to us. Seriously. Most of the time, the cats I see in shelters look bored and lethargic. It’s nice that they’re being well cared for. Adoption fees are $125, and I believe the cats come spayed/neutered. Pets In Need also had a bunch of new kittens that were just squirming all over the place! Their fees are a bit cheaper.
If we’re going to get a cat though, it will be in mid-July, after my brother and I come back from family camp. So far, though, prospects are looking better than ever.
And, I know, I know the camp account isn’t done yet! Stop persecuting me! T_T
In other news, yesterday, Karina, Lauren, Randy, Tisha, myself (the above can all be found in my friends box thingie.) and a bunch of people from Woodside went to Great America. They had some new pool area thingie, but looking at the number of kids in the park, it would have been gross. We ended up leaving at about 4:00 because, dangit, when you’ve gotten the VIP pass for the last five years, there comes a time when there’s just nothing new at Great America. We did buy Jessica something at the gift shop because she’s a CIT at junior camp this week.
After we left, the Heritage crew, minus Tisha, went to Randy’s house, but not before renting Napoleon Dynamite at Blockbuster. Karina and Lauren needed to see it so they could get all the jokes at camp and school. I fell asleep sometime after “LaFawnduh” showed up, but the general consensus among my friends was, thankfully, “That was the most boring thing I’ve ever seen.” I’m gonna be flamed so badly for this, but I hate that movie, and I’m glad they do too. 
Ummm, after I awoke to the sound of three goofballs playing Mad Gab, we went swimming in the dark. Randy’s got a pool and jacuzzi. Mmmm. We still can’t figure out why there isn’t a line of girls waiting for the chance to catch his eye. Seriously, he cooks, he cleans, he watches over his 11-month old godson/nephew, and he’s got a supply of tampons and pantyliners in the trunk of his car! Ha ha ha ha ha….I’m suddenly wondering if he’s reading this. Doesn’t matter, he’s getting married to Tisha if their original plans don’t pan out. It’s been decided.
Goober Golf 