Kids these days.

Yesterday I had rather higher than normal exposure to teenagers. (I don’t know what the government’s recommended exposure limits are, exactly.) The experience left me feeling old, well-dressed, and shaking my head. Clearly, my advancement towards cootdom is progressing nicely…

Continue reading “Kids these days.”

“…and this upsets me.”

Supposing … I’m too old for MySpace.

Or perhaps it’s MySpace’s “social” element that disturbs me. I’m a misanthrope. Everyone on MySpace seems young and happy and excited and flip and approachable, and this upsets me. Still, at least the teenage MySpacers are getting on with the business of being young and alive, unlike the fustier elements of the “blogosphere”, who just waste the world’s time banging on and on about how important the “blogosphere” is and how it spells the end of every old notion ever, when the truth is that, as with absolutely every form of media ever, 99% of the “blogosphere” is rubbish created by idiots.

This piece made me giggle with its crotchety goodness. So needless to say I linked to it, without the addition of intelligent and insightful comment, in my blog. Which is located in the blogosphere.

Pip pip, guv! 🙂

Sign me up.

Please Try My Dating Service. It is not for Republicans. It is not for bow hunters. Also, no cat hoarders. Sign up now!

But here’s the best part of all: I will not charge for my service. I will accept no money. To join, you will merely be required to thrust out an act of random juicy kindness to the world, including (but not limited to) buying a Hitachi Magic Wand for five random women in your life, donating a decent hunk of change to local Planned Parenthood, memorizing the prelude to Tom Robbins’ “Skinny Legs and All,” spending 10 hours researching the Islay single malts of Scotland or blasting old AC/DC in the car at top volume with the sunroof open and singing along as you drive by a church.

Well hell. I did my weekly HS shift yesterday, which included toting a nerdy teenager around with me. I worship Tom Robbins. Thanks to my corporate background and the friendship of assorted sexy Scots, I have spent rather more than 10 hours in the company of single malt Islays. And I loves me some AC/DC. I should get to be a moderator on such a site!

You need not be a genius. You will need an IQ higher than the president of the United States (I know, easy) but low enough that you still don’t quite understand how quantum physics might affect your gas mileage, orgasms or the price of a good mocha.

See? 🙂

Also regarding the felix legions…

So because it is apparently not enough that the ZenMonster is equally happy destroying my things as the housemates’, Chris has decided on the birthday present he is planning to give to me next year. (As a testament to how in love with this idea he is — read: how much he wants vengeance — you will note that my my birthday was only 18 days ago.) Please note that with the exception of, say, a six-pack of beer, which we would end up drinking together, Chris has never gotten me a birthday present.

Chris has discovered the world of hybrid cats. Specifically, he likes savannahs, and appears to have fallen in love with the pixie bob. (I blame this on his having grown up with Maine Coon crosses.)

It is this cat — the pixie bob — that he has decided is the perfect birthday gift for me. A 20+ pound, semi-feral (I don’t care what the sites’ propaganda says), long-haired “housecat”. As a “thank you” for having… subjected him to the ZenMonster. I felt compelled, upon being informed of this, to note two things:

  1. I picked out the ZenMonster based on what he wanted, i.e. a male, domestic short-haired kitten who had lots of personality and who would grow up to be a big cat.
  2. Had he ever met a bobcat??? Because they are… somewhat irascible.

Then I asked him if revenge was really worth having his existing pets randomly disemboweled and his wife leaving him, and then I asked how much notice I had to give before moving out.

Kitten vs. Electronics, round 6972

Booted up the computer this morning. My connection to the wireless network was excellent! Cool. Unfortunately, our network connection to the rest of the interweb was not excellent. Thought maybe it was related to the thunderstorm last night. Tried rebooting everything… nope. No lights on the cable modem at all. Ahh.

Called Rogers tech support (at 7am) and tell the heavily Slavic gentleman on the phone what I know. He asks me to trying plugging the modem directly into another outlet (even though everything else plugged into the same power bar is fine). I humour him… and in the course of fishing the power cord out from behind the table, I discover the source of the problem. In technical terms, the power cord has been chewed to shit. Guess who?

I knew something was up when I woke up this morning with two cats. I almost never wake up with two cats… Seriously, kitten, I was not the one who put the cone on you.

So I explain this to tech support guy, who is still hanging on to that idea of plugging it into another outlet. I told him I did that, it made no difference, because the power cord is almost CHEWED IN HALF. Then I had a helluva time explaining that it was not the CABLE cable damaged, just the power cord. Dear Rogers, while I am all for hiring immigrants, and have no problems with ESL, could you perhaps hire some for tech support who speak English (or French) at ALL?

Anyway, technician is coming out this afternoon, between 2 and 5pm. Yay for living with teachers – it’s summer, people will be home. Why do we need a technician when all we need is a power cord replacement? Like they can tell me something that esoteric… Oh, and since “we” damaged the cord, there will “probably” be a charge. No. Really??? Next they’re going to tell me that the bank MAY charge me to keep my money, and charge me some more when I am selfish and want to access it…

All I can say is that this had BETTER get fixed today. Because tomorrow is a Friday, a pre-long weekend Friday, and if I am sans internet access for five days, you will know us by the trail of dead… And the kitten? He is now banned from the downstairs.

Quote of the Day.

“I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness, and the willingness to remain vulnerable.” — Anne Morrow Lindbergh



I went into the kitchen to sweep and scrub the floor. Somehow I ended up in the backyard at dusk, with wet grass blades sticking to my feet, picking cherries off a tree still dripping from the earlier thunderstorm. It was lovely and cool out. The air smelled like rain and earth and vaguely of propane (always worrisome), with occasional wafts of pot smoke (from which neighbourly direction I couldn’t tell).

Sometimes it’s very good to be non-linear.


Steps forward, steps back.

So, sometimes you might have a day that is not great. Or even a week that is not great. Sometimes you might have to do a favour for a friend, which, by its very nature, assists in screwing your friend over. This will put you in a bad mood.

But then you will arrive home. And there will be this fuzzy lump sprawled on the carpet. And when you pick it up it will loll, positively dripping with despair and ennui.

And you will be amused. And you will stare into the eyes of this fuzzy lump, and lay it on a chair and watch it droop over the side. And you will take pictures.

Because what the hell else is there to do when you have a broken-legged coneheaded kitten? 🙂

Zen snoozing

(This is a conehead-free kitten. Do not let his listless expression fool you, for he is happy here, merely sleepy.)

conehead Zen on chair

Ahh, that’s better. That disturbing angle his cast-covered leg is on is one of his milder usual contortions.

conehead Zen


conehead Zen

At this point I knelt down, peeked in his face, and reminded him that this is all his own fault.

Because I am nurturing like that.