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an utterly random discussion

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Animal Crackers

I have spoken before about Mickey being allowed in our bed. And I know I have mentioned in passing how he does not merely sleep in the bed, he attaches himself like Velcro to me. He’s like a tick. But recently I’ve come to the realization that he’s got some sort of pattern worked out in his head for the whole sleeping procedure, and it goes like this:

10 PM: While Mom is in the bathroom, curl up in a ball on her side of the bed and pretend to be asleep when she comes back into the room in a pathetically transparent attempt to coerce her to allow you to sleep with her and Daddy all night.

10:20 PM: Grudgingly vacate Mom and Dad’s bed and take up residence in your own bed on the floor. (Don’t feel bad, it’s very comfortable.)

2:30 AM: Get up, shake, stretch, rub face on carpet while making groaning noises, then go get an astoundingly long drink of water. Go back to bed. Make groaning noise when you settle back in.

4:30 AM: Get up, wake up Mom and ask her if you can come up on her bed. Grudgingly go back to your own bed when she says no.

5:00 AM: Get up, wake up Mom again and wait to be picked up and placed on the bed. Burrow, nose first, under the covers and conform your body tightly to Mom’s, filling in all possible negative space. When finally comfortable, make groaning noise.

6:00 AM: Emerge from under covers and stretch out on top of covers, head resting on your Mom’s knee. Growl menacingly and snap at Dad whenever he attempts to move.

6:45 AM: After Dad’s alarm goes off and he gets up to get in the shower, climb over Mom and demand to be let under the covers again, except on the other side of Mom this time, then curl up in a ball next to her. Make groaning noise again.

7:15 AM: Emerge from covers, stretch out, wag tail, and demand ear scratches. After ear scratches are performed, jump off bed and ask to be taken for a walk.

I’m not making this up. He does this every single night without variation. I don’t know why.

Also, last night, after rubbing against my legs and asking to be petted, the barn cat at the stable suddenly hauled off and scratched me bloody with both paws for NO REASON WHATSOEVER. I have since learned that cat scratches hurt like hell.

On another topic, a neighbor stopped by the other night, and when he walked in the door he handed me a stack of photos of his new baby, as if they were required for entry. No explanation, no nothing, just handed me a stack of pictures. I did not ask him the last time I saw him (which was four months ago) to please bring me pictures of the child. I do not express any interest in the child whatsoever. I, in fact, had no idea that he was even planning to ring my doorbell that night. So what am I supposed to do, now, with these pictures? I guess I’m supposed to look at them and ooh and aah. But does that strike anyone else as a little odd? I mean, I think my dog is great and all but I don’t walk into someone’s home and shove a stack of Mickey photos at them, do I? It would be one thing if this was someone I was close to. But this is a neighbor that I talk to maybe twice a year. Plus, I don’t like being forced to do anything, especially ooh and aah over some baby that frankly looks pretty much like every other baby I’ve ever seen. Yeah, yeah, I get it, this is blood of your blood, your creation, the fruit of your loins and all that. But just because you think your baby is the most wonderful creature ever to walk the planet does not mean that everyone else automatically shares that opinion – or, frankly, even cares one way or the other especially since you just interrupted Gilmore Girls by showing up on my doorstep uninvited. Plus, I wonder if it ever occurs to these people that the person you’re foisting your baby pictures on might be dying inside because they have been trying to get pregnant for a year and can’t? How about a little sensitivity? (This is not me, by the way, I’m just saying.)
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Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Ouch!

I know this is a small price to pay (no pun intended) compared to what some people are going through, but still -- it's rather shocking to see prices that high. Good thing I drive a teeny little car and only have a seven-mile commute.

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Saturday, September 03, 2005

Blast from the past

I remembered these two posts from my old blog and I wanted to just kind of link to them from here for no other reason than I wanted to make them a part of this blog in some way. I'm sure there's a more sophisticated way to do this but I don't have the brainpower right now to figure it out.

so anyway...here's the link to one story about my grandmother, and there's a link to another blog entry embedded in the story.

http://radio.weblogs.com/0117909/2003/03/13.html
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Friday, September 02, 2005

How Did This Happen?

About a million years ago, while examining a pitiful comp that represented weeks of work on a rather trying project that was going nowhere fast, a former boss looked up at me and said, "How did this happen?"

That's the feeling I'm left with while watching New Orleans and the surrounding areas go to frickin' hell in a handbasket. How did this happen?

I am not the smartest person around, that's for sure, but long before this storm was even a glimmer in Mother Nature's eye, even I knew, given New Orleans' location and unique topography, it was only a matter of time until a major hurricane would take aim at the city and fill it with water. I remember standing in front of the TV last week while they broadcast the projected storm path and showing my husband exactly what would happen when (or if) the storm hit New Orleans. I knew about the levees and how it was common knowledge that they had no chance of holding back anything above a category three. I also knew that if that city filled up with water, all kinds of nasty stuff was going to happen that would increase the death toll exponentially, such as alligators and snakes swimming freely through the city and the rise of deadly diseases such as cholera. In fact, preventable stuff like dehydration and dysentery can begin killing the weak, the young, and the old in just days.

As I've said, I am not a smart person. But even I -- a person WHO HAS NEVER EVEN BEEN TO NEW ORLEANS -- that this kind of a catastrophe was an inevitability.

So explain to me why the people in charge in New Orleans -- not to mention the FEDERAL GOVERNMENT FOR PETE'S SAKE -- didn't have some kind of a plan for getting people the hell out of the city, or for getting food and water to the people left stranded? How could there not be some kind of elaborate plan for what every moron (including me!) knows was just waiting to happen? How can there be dead bodies floating down the streets? How can tens of thousands of people be in the Superdome without food or water? How can there be sick and dying hospital patients lying on gurneys in darkened hallways, or worse, evacuated to convention centers, or, unthinkably, left to die on the streets? This happens in third world countries. This kind of thing does not -- should not -- happen here, in one of the richest countries in the world.

Not that I'm interested in pointing fingers because it really does not help, but indulge me for a moment. Certainly, the lion's share of the blame lies with the New Orleans authorities who appear utterly unprepared for this catastrophe. Sadly, part of the blame must also rest on the shoulders of the people who ignored the order to leave. But here's who I really wanna blame: the federal government and most specifically, our President. I can't help thinking, would we have been able to help these people if the country's resources weren't already taxed by this ridiculous war we're involved in? Why is he doing a flyover from Air Force One? Why is Condaleeza Rice shopping for shoes in NYC while bodies are floating down the streets in New Orleans?

What I want to know is, how did this happen?

P.S. From a literary perspective, there is some amazing writing going on at www.nola.com/hurricane/katrina, the site for the Times-Picayune...especially the up-to-the minute stuff written by their staff writers (the AP stuff is just about what you'd expect.) Don't miss it, this is amazing work by a bunch of dedicated reporters who are still doing their jobs despite the fact that they may not have homes or have lost family. It deserves a read.
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