littlewashu: (spock and isis)
A moment ago, I heard Henry pushing at the door to come in, so I let him in and closed the door behind him without looking at him. As I walked back to my computer chair, he crouched alongside and put something down on the ground. "Ah no, man," I said. He caught a bird once, brought it to me, meowing proudly. This time he was silent, he just seemed like he wanted to be left alone so that he could start eating the thing. I leaned down to push him away from what I discovered was the BAT that he had caught. A BAT! A tiny bat the size of a sparrow! Maaaan. Proud or pissed off? It's a tough call. A bat, man! Bats are way cool. But man, what dumbass bat gets caught by my dumbass cat?

Hey, while we're on the subject of tiny flying animals, Saturday afternoon Chris and I were watching the Venture Brothers in the game room at the Manse, and we heard this . . . scrabbling noise, coming from the wood stove. It happened a few times before I looked over and exclaimed, "there's a bird in your stove!" A tiny brown lady sparrow, peering out the window. Chris I think was content to leave her to her own devices, but I insisted that there was no way a bird could fly straight UP a narrow chimney for 25 feet, and kept coming up with overly-elaborate, asinine ways to get her out that involved laundry baskets and/or bath towels. Finally Chris instructed me to open the door to the outside, and then stand in the doorway to the kitchen with a blanket, and he just opened the stove door wide. When she appeared again (she kept disappearing, presumably hiding in the vents at the top of the stove,) she gaily flew straight out the door, singing her thanks as she went. I named her Waffles.
littlewashu: (Default)
My parents bought me a new camera for Christmas, since I dropped my old one. I'm making a concerted effort to take more pictures. Here is one of my roommate Henry.

He went to the vet today to get a booster shot for feline leukemia, and he was a very good boy. (I saw that he has bright orange CAUTION! stickers on his chart, because of his history of not being a very good boy at all.)
littlewashu: (dr. girlfriend - xmas)
Maaaan life is good! I was feeling great and whistling as I picked up the mail from my bin this morning, fifteen minutes early to work, saying good morning to my boss. I even t'rew up half of my morning tea (I think it was a Vitamin C pill that disagreed with my empty tummy) but I'm STILL in a great mood!

Life is great! I started getting a cold a week ago (sore throat in the mornings), but it didn't get medicine-worthy until Sunday (and believe you me, I hit the Sudafed at the first sign of trouble), and it's already almost entirely gone! I am wearing a new sweater today, and new brown pants. I just started my Christmas shopping, but I've already received some presents-to-be in the mail! I went to Target yesterday and found flannel sheets for myself for twenty bucks. I got an S-video cable for my Wii at GameStop, and found canned chipotle peppers as I had hoped (not at GameStop). I'm going to cook a new recipe tonight, which I haven't done in quite some time. Last night my boyfriend fed me (and Dave and Andrew) truly delicious (and not too bad for me) chicken parmesan, all moist and wonderful and not Too Much anything. I am going to make an apron for my mom for Christmas. And my cat loves me, and he's a little bit sick, but I'm taking him to the vet on Monday like a good mom/roommate. And I'm reconnecting with people from my past who I've missed. And I went out last weekend with my brother and his friends, and had a great time. And I'm getting up early to go Christmas shopping at outlet stores with two of my best friends on Saturday. And I'm seeing a play directed by another friend Saturday night, with yet another friend I haven't seen in almost a year. And I've been at this job for five months and I still really like it. And and and.

Life is good, my friends. I wish there were more hours in the day.
littlewashu: (shelley - writing)
Hello, internet!

It's been a dog's age since I updated my LiveJournal, and I want to get back into the habit of updating regularly (man, how many times have I said that), but I have to get a recap out of the way first. I was reading back over the last few whatevers of entries, and almost everything is about a) work, and b) my cats. HOW BORING. Prepare yourself for some more of the same.


So, hey, I'm employed! I was unemployed for six weeks at the beginning of the year, and this is my fifth week at my new job. It is, as I had hoped, in the geotechnical engineering field, as opposed to land development, which is what I was doing before. Sometimes it's a little frustrating to not be doing what I already know how to do -- I jump at the chance to do little civil things here and there, partly because it makes me feel smart again -- but I'm glad I'm learning something new, which could ultimately be more interesting to me. Right now the commute is a bitch (over an hour), but I'm already mostly used to it, I have a guy with whom I carpool, and theoretically in a year I'll be working out of the West Berlin office, which is just fifteen minutes down the road from my house. And I like the company -- it's far more laid back than the other places I've worked (I'm thinking this is largely because there are fewer freaking engineers here, a lot of guys are geologists), but not excessively so. Work right now is slow, but supposedly in the summer it speeds up a bit, and we'll be losing our two Drexel co-ops, which also makes me sad because they are awesome. What's sort of ridiculous is that I keep thinking of them and me as the kids, which is absurd, as I am practically thirty years old and have a PE (not that I've used it yet) and am really not a kid anymore. That probably means I should dress better.


It is with great regret that I must inform you (the internet) that I have given my kitten Edward away. I got him sometime in November, I believe, and for the past four months he's been living happily with myself and Henry. Henry, on the other hand, was not so happy. I was hoping that eventually they'd get over it and get along, and while Edward never held any ill will towards Hank, he did treat the orange behemoth just as he treated his furry mice and jingling balls and fuzzy yarn: he jumped on him, and hunted him, and wrestled. Henry was in turn making MY life miserable and impossible, and though at this point I like Edward better, I feel as though I have more loyalty to Henry, so I gave Edward to my wonderful and understanding parents. I'll miss him, but man, he'll have a much better time there. They have birdfeeders which attract about fifty birds at any given point of time during the day; a much larger house about which to run and explore; hardwood floors downstairs, the better to make hairpin turns upon; the option to eventually become a partially Outdoor Cat and learn to kill and bring home the aforementioned birds; and people who are home far more often than I am. I just hope he doesn't forget me. He's such a sweetheart, even if he did attack my eyeball whilst I was sleeping and make it look like I got punched in the face.

Okay, I think that's it! I want to talk about "The Riches," which I watched last night, and maybe even a little bit about R.E.M., who were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame yesterday, which makes me feel both old and nostalgic. Hopefully I'll get around to that. Maybe I won't. Anyway, hi again, LiveJournal! I've totally still been reading almost everything this whole time, even when I don't take the time to comment. Have a great Tuesday. It's warm!
littlewashu: (dr. girlfriend - amused)
Edward is home! He was groggy and his walk was a bit bow-legged -- and his balsac is shaved, which is weird and funny -- but he's okay. Last night he kept losing his balance, it was pretty entertaining. He couldn't walk on narrow things (like the arm of the sofa) that he normally could without losing his balance, and sometimes he couldn't manage to jump up onto things from awkward positions. Also one time he was on the piled-up afghan on the couch and he rolled off of that and then kept on rolling right onto the floor. It was great.

Henry wasn't happy to see him, and he kept hissing every time Edward got near him, even though the little guy wasn't jumping on him (he apparently didn't have the energy). I eventually determined that this is because Henry's sick. I was going to tell you how I know, but it's gross, so let me assure you that my big guy apparently has some sort of urinary infection. He isn't crying when he's in the litterbox, so hopefully it's not as bad as the one I had that one time. I'm taking him to the vet this afternoon. Boo for using up another half-day of personal time, but hopefully I'll do something productive at home afterwards. Oh, I hope my big guy is okay. It's quite possible this thing was brought on by the stress of having Edward around, which makes me feel doubly awful. Hopefully I'll just get some antibiotics and he'll be fine again. I really do love that guy a whole lot. (Also hopefully it's not too expensive; Mom's almost unemployed!)
littlewashu: (banana)
I took a half day today (the second half; I'm at work now) because I needed to drop Edward off this morning; he's getting his tiny kitten balls removed. I brought him in to the shelter. This is the third time he's been in our cat carrier -- the first two times were trips to the vet's, and he hated it. He is TERRIFIED in that thing. He goes into a corner and tries to make himself as small as possible. He sticks his head in the corner, thinking, presumably, that if he can't see us, we can't see him and do something scary to him. It is heartbreaking. Today I think he may even have been shaking. This is the kitten who routinely chases, hunts, and pounces upon a feline behemouth four times his size. I hate it. (His terror, I mean, I hate his terror, not the hunting, the hunting and chasing and pouncing and wrestling is highly entertaining.) Today I had to sign a paper that said it was okay if something terrible happened to him while he was in surgery, and then I patted the carrier and walked out, and though I had been really quite blase' about the whole deal up until this morning ("enjoy licking those puppies while you still can, buddy, they're coming off tomorrow!"), on my walk back to the car I started crying. My poor little baby is SO SCARED! It's not the neutering itself that made me upset, it's how scared he's going to be before and after. I'm okay now, of course, but I can't wait to pick him up this evening and be safe and familiar to him.

After I dropped Edward off, I went home to take a shower and get dressed properly. Henry was complaining, and though it was probably because I put out only adult-cat food (he prefers the kitten food, which will only make him FATTER, and I'm pretty sure Edward eats mostly the adult-cat food, because cats were invented to DRIVE PEOPLE CRAZY,) I pretended it was because he missed his little brother.

Then I went to Deptford, and you guys, I'm pretty sure that all my Christmas shopping is done. This has never ever happened to me before. I'm waiting on a few things in the mail, but not much. I have a few things to put together still, and I wish I had gotten my brother more, but still -- no more shopping! This is truly amazing.

I will probably get a Christmas tree this weekend.

Peter Boyle died. The various obituaries first reference Everybody Loves Raymond and Young Frankenstein, but to me he'll always be the guy from a funny and heartbreaking episode of The X Files. (I think it was funny. Wasn't that the one with pies?) (Everyone did their best work on that show. Like Luke Wilson. And Alex Trebek. And Jesse Ventura, and Charles Nelson Reilly.) I've always thought of Peter Boyle very fondly because of that episode.

March 2015

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