Remote blogging

Am posting from wilds of the suburbs of The City of Brotherly Love. Just saw Elf and highly recommend this bit of holiday-related fun (with Nazgul chasing Santa!). Not posting more on that, as I am crappy with the reviews. Go watch ET's blog. Or something.

Anywa, speaking of film, Maggie posted the AFI top 100 films (I think it's American films only). Figured I'd mark off which ones I've seen. Maybe make comments. Yeah, with comments. I can't resist. Movies I've seen are marked with an "x".

1. "Citizen Kane," 1941
   x
   this is a highly overrated film. see Touch of Evil instead


2. "Casablanca," 1942
   x
   everyone should see this movie. personally, i think this and number one should be switched. so does my mom and one of her professors at The New School


3. "The Godfather," 1972
   will see


4. "Gone With the Wind," 1939
   x
   lord, but i hate this movie...and the book it's based on. purely exConfederate propaganda: a piece o' poop


5. "Lawrence of Arabia," 1962
   i've only seen bits and pieces, not the whole thing


6. "The Wizard of Oz," 1939
   x
   i have trouble imagining a single American over the age of ten who hasn't seen it, but i suppose such people must exist


7. "The Graduate," 1967
   x


8. "On the Waterfront," 1954
   Kazan trying to explain away his bastardly behavior before the House UnAmerican Activities Committee. evil shit


9. "Schindler's List," 1993
   x
   good, but an all-time top film? i beg to differ


10. "Singin' in the Rain," 1952
    x
    i so very love this movie


11. "It's a Wonderful Life," 1946
    x
    my elder sister and her husband watch this movie every Christmas, without the kids. which is really sweet and old-fashioned romantic


12. "Sunset Boulevard," 1950
    x
    another movie i enjoyed very, very much


13. "The Bridge on the River Kwai," 1957
    will see


14. "Some Like it Hot," 1959
    only seen bits and pieces


15. "Star Wars," 1977
    x
    uh, like, duuuuh


16. "All About Eve," 1950
    x
    oh, lord, how i love this movie; queen of bitch films


17. "The African Queen," 1951
    x
    eh, it was okay


18. "Psycho," 1960
    x
    fun! fun fun fun!


19. "Chinatown," 1974
    you know what happens to Jack Nicholson's nose in this film, right?


20. "One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest," 1975
    x
    saw this when i was just a kid; blew me away, but i think it may have messed with my developing mind


21. "The Grapes of Wrath," 1940


22. "2001: A Space Odyssey," 1968
    x
    i liked it when i saw it when i was ten or something, but the psychedelic grooviness wears damned thin after you've hit puberty


23. "The Maltese Falcon," 1941
    x
    i was very young, so i don't remember much


24. "Raging Bull," 1980


25. "E.T. - The Extra-Terrestrial," 1982
    x
    SheepBoy got me the DVD last year for Christmas. it's just as good as it was when i saw it when i was little. i still cried, a little


26. "Dr. Strangelove," 1964
    x
    oh, lord, but this is a damned funny movie


27. "Bonnie and Clyde," 1967
    whee! fun wtih guns. probably won't see unless catch on cable. prefer History Channel summary of real life events


28. "Apocalypse Now," 1979
    x
    i was too young. way, way too young


29. "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," 1939
    x
    i looooooooooooooove this movie. i'm such a sucker for Capra-type patriotism


30. "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre," 1948
    will see


31. "Annie Hall," 1977
    will see, even though it's a Woody Allen film. after all, he made Purple Rose of Cairo and What's New Pussycat?, so he didn't suck all the time


32. "The Godfather Part II," 1974
    will see


33. "High Noon," 1952
    will see, even though it's a western (i hate westerns)


34. "To Kill a Mockingbird," 1962
    x
    i wish Atticus was my dad. or my husband. or our president. something.


35. "It Happened One Night," 1934
    x
    saw it for the first time a couple of weeks ago. very charming indeed


36. "Midnight Cowboy," 1969
    the guy's name is Ratso Rizzo. i guess i'll just have to see it, huh, in spite of the year


37. "The Best Years of Our Lives," 1946
    x


38. "Double Indemnity," 1944
    i have to see this, and Laura


39. "Doctor Zhivago," 1965
    my brother and mother both insist i have to see it


40. "North by Northwest," 1959
    x
    but with commercials, so maybe that's a half-x


41. "West Side Story," 1961
    x
    i love this musical, but this isn't the best version of it


42. "Rear Window," 1954
    x
    oh, i really loved this one. yay Hitchcock!


43. "King Kong," 1933
    i think i might have actually seen it, but it's hard to say, so that means i'll have to watch it "again"


44. "The Birth of a Nation," 1915
    you know, i've heard a lot about how this is one of the greatest films of all time, but it's entirely KKK propaganda. fuck the critics. i'm not going to watch anything which glorifies the KKK


45. "A Streetcar Named Desire," 1951
    i really want to see Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando in this adaptation of the play


46. "A Clockwork Orange," 1971
    will see


47. "Taxi Driver," 1976
    um, maybe. (ngh...probably not)


48. "Jaws," 1975
    x
    whee! fun!


49. "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs," 1937
    x
    it's not a feminist's wet dream, but it's beautiful and sweet, so :p on the feminists


50. "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," 1969
    another one i will see in spite of it being a western


51. "The Philadelphia Story," 1940
    x
    very much like


52. "From Here to Eternity," 1953
    famous love scene, yeah, but i'm not going to see it


53. "Amadeus," 1984
    x
    oh, this was one of my absolute favorites when i was a kid. haven't seen it since it was in the theaters


54. "All Quiet on the Western Front," 1930
    x
    gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. it's very, very good. seriously. see it.


55. "The Sound of Music," 1965
    x
    doe, a deer, a fe-male deer


56. "M*A*S*H," 1970


57. "The Third Man," 1949
    most definitely will be seeing this one


58. "Fantasia," 1940
    x
    uh, like, duuuh


59. "Rebel Without a Cause," 1955
    my mom remembers worshipping James Dean. i'd like to see this, but i'm not in a rush


60. "Raiders of the Lost Ark," 1981
    x
    seriously, though. duuuuuuh


61. "Vertigo," 1958
    will most definitely see


62. "Tootsie," 1982
    x
    just saw the beginning again a couple of weeks ago (to be interrupted by a call from a bored ET). i'd forgotten how much i liked it. woo! I Love The `80's Strikes Back!


63. "Stagecoach," 1939
    western. bleh. no.


64. "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," 1977
    x
    i'm a dork. i hum along to the music


65. "The Silence of the Lambs," 1991
    x
    fava beans go with so many things


66. "Network," 1976
    will see


67. "The Manchurian Candidate," 1962
    um, huh? checks IMDB uh, no


68. "An American in Paris," 1951
    x
    love it! eeeeee!


69. "Shane," 1953
    i think i need to see this one, in spite of it being a western


70. "The French Connection," 1971
    uh, probably not. it's a `70's movie and has car chases. bleh


71. "Forrest Gump," 1994
    x
    oh, good god, what an overrated piece of shit this was. i cannot believe it won the Oscar. it's appalling that it made this list. it sucks


72. "Ben-Hur," 1959
    well, i kind of have to see it now that i've seen Gladiator


73. "Wuthering Heights," 1939
    x
    better than the book, but i'd rather watch Laurence Olivier in Pride and Prejudice with Greer Garson


74. "The Gold Rush," 1925
    well, everyone's seen the scene where he eats his boot, but that's all i've seen


75. "Dances With Wolves," 1990
    x
    not all that great. i'd rather watch Field of Dreams if you're going to make me watch a gooey-type Kevin Costner movie


76. "City Lights," 1931
    i really need to see more silent films


77. "American Graffiti," 1973
    x
    i don't remember much, except for 1950's hair and cars


78. "Rocky," 1976
    i don't care how good my mom says it is, i'm not watching a flick about boxing with Silvester Stallone in it


79. "The Deer Hunter," 1978
    see that year? so, like, no, i won't


80. "The Wild Bunch," 1969
    westerns. bleh-phooie


81. "Modern Times," 1936
    must see


82. "Giant," 1956
    "a sprawling epic following the life of a Texas cattle rancher...". oh, dear lord no


83. "Platoon," 1986
    no. i've seen enough Vietnam War movies to last a lifetime. they are rarely watchable. i'll go watch All's Quiet On The Western Front instead


84. "Fargo," 1996
    i just realized i never finished watching the video. i am an idiot.
    so, like, no x. dammit


85. "Duck Soup," 1933
    must. see. this. film.


86. "Mutiny on the Bounty," 1935
    sorry, not interested


87. "Frankenstein," 1931
    x
    but of course! Bride of Frankenstein is even better


88. "Easy Rider," 1969
    x
    my parents made me watch it so i could understand the `60's a little better.
    the `60's sucked ass


89. "Patton," 1970
    nah


90. "The Jazz Singer," 1927
    it was the first talkie. that makes it great?


91. "My Fair Lady," 1964
    x
    this was my grandfather's favorite film. completely out of character for him, but it was.
    i like it, too, even though the ending's better in Pygmalion


92. "A Place in the Sun," 1951
    Mom tried to make me watch it. i got bored


93. "The Apartment," 1960
    i keep hearing how good this is, but it's not at the top of my list to see


94. "Goodfellas," 1990
    x
    ugh. that is an awful way to die


95. "Pulp Fiction," 1994
    will see. just getting up the gumption to deal with the hypodermic needles


96. "The Searchers," 1956
    western. yuck


97. "Bringing Up Baby," 1938
    x
    adorable. i love this movie. there should be more `30's comedies on here


98. "Unforgiven," 1992
    it's a western, so i've been reluctant to see it, but i might break in the future


99. "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner," 1967
    it's late `60's, almost as bad as `70's, so i'm not hot on seeing it, in spite of how good i'm told it is


100. "Yankee Doodle Dandy," 1942
     x
     this is in the top 100 because why?

---


Total: 48/100.

Almost half. Not bad. Some of these choices are, though. Ick.

I just love saying this word...mostly 'cause it sounds like I'm sneezing

The Word of the Day for November 22 is:

eschew \es-CHOO\ verb
: to avoid habitually especially on moral or practical
grounds

Example sentence:
In his stand-up comedy routines, Michael eschews the vulgar
language and gross humor frequently used by his colleagues.

Did you know?
"Eschew" derives from the Anglo-French verb "eschiver" and
is akin to the Old High German "sciuhen" ("to frighten off"), an
ancestor of our word "shy." In his famous dictionary of 1755 Dr.
Samuel Johnson characterized "eschew" as "almost obsolete."
History has proven that the great lexicographer was wrong on
that call, however. William [Makepeace!] Thackeray found "eschew" alive
enough to use it almost one hundred years later in his classic
novel Vanity Fair: "He has already eschewed green coats, red
neckcloths, and other worldly ornaments." The word swelled in
usage in English during the 19th and 20th centuries and is now
common enough to be included even in small paperback
dictionaries.

Curry!

Hey, did you know that S&B Curry comes in a convenient heat-and-eat pack, with chopped veggies already in it? Whee! Lord bless those clever Japanese curry packagers!

On not posting

First off, I was away in Boston this weekend, so I couldn't. But mostly I'm stuck trying to write this one post I'm not even sure I should post. Something happened to me and I'm not sure I want to write about it. I'm just not sure if I really want to share it with the world. Such is the plight of the blogger.

The Word of the Day for November 12 is:

ennead \EH-nee-ad\ noun
: a group of nine


To the ancients, nine was a very special number, one often associated with gods and divinity. Legends and literature have long characterized groups of nine as having a special, in some cases magical, significance. Ancient Egyptians organized their gods into groups of nine; even today, their principal group of gods (headed by sun god Re-Atum) is called the "Great Ennead of Heliopolis." The "Ennead" English speakers use in that name traces to "ennea," the Greek word for "nine." "Ennead" is also used generally to refer to other groups of ancient gods. Furthermore, it is the name given to six sets of nine treatises by Greek philosopher Plotinus that were collected and organized by his 3rd-century disciple, Porphyry.

One more thing

(Every time I think or hear or read that phrase, I hear it in my head in "Uncle"'s voice.)

People have not been using the smilies provided by Enetation.co.uk in my commenter-thingie. Perhaps readers are as yet unaware of the codes. Here is a link to a post which listed the codes and corresponding smilies.

Have a blast, children.

Satisfied?

Seeing as I have, like, one loyal reader (ET) and one very occasional reader (Halifax), I suppose I ought to give reader complaints more attention and respect. But I'm feeling especially bitchy right now due to problems with medication, stress, and exhaustion, so I will, instead, be sarcastic and rude.

I've now posted three, long, multiparagraph, pointless posts to my blog today. This is the fourth. I've also uploaded six pictures to my phlog.

There. Are you happy now?

DVR is eating my life away

I can't get the VCR to tape off of the cable upstairs. The VCR downstairs works, but the wiring is gummed up in the living room where the DVR box is set up. This means I've been holding onto blocks of movies I DVR'd off of TCM (Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, Son of Frankenstein, Dracula, A Star Is Born, Pride of the Yankees, etc.) on the DVR instead of clearing up space to record new shows and movies.

I've missed out on a bunch of movies I wanted to see/keep on TCM as well as Starz! and Showtime and HBO. More importantly, I've had to watch the shows I record soon after they've been recorded so I can clear up space to record the other shows during the week.

This has made the whole point of having a DVR, as in you control when you watch what, moot. I have to watch the shows shortly after they're aired, as opposed to days later when I have the time and inclination. It's stupid and wrong, but I'm up until all hours clearing off shows, one by one. I've stopped recording some shows just to clear up space, but I refuse to give up my Sunday night Adult Swim, Alias, or the Smallville/Angel block on Wednesdays, as well as a bunch of other shows (some of which I would never, ever admit to watching to even my dearest friends).

This means my schedule's completely screwed and I haven't been sleeping right and I haven't been getting work done. All so I can watch television. That is just so...sigh stupid.

Mmm, curry-rific goodness

ATTENTION READER: You will, in all likelihood, be thoroughly grossed out by the cooking/eating habits detailed below.

You have been warned.

---

About two years ago, maybe two and a half years, I went grocery shopping with ET. This, of course, took place in Chinatown. I picked up udon and tastier flavors of ramen not available at round-eye outlets and some S & B Medium Hot Golden Curry Mix. I finally got through all the ramen about two months ago. (I discovered I liked it with soft tofu squished into mush into it, so that the tofu acted as a thickener and a source of protein. I put the squished tofu and spices and oil and ramen into the pot together so everything tasted like the spices and oil instead of ramen and tofu. I'm also too lazy to try to remember to put in the different things at the appropriate time. Lazy round-eye, remember?)

A couple of weeks ago I looked in the little cupboard where I keep the food which I brought up with me when I moved and discovered I had only the curry sauce mix, the udon, and a can of Spaghettios. Mom was feeling poorly so I figured I only had to make dinner for myself. Did I heat up the can of delicious pasta product? No, of course not.

I stuck an onion in the food processor (on the wrong setting, so instead of finely chopped onion I got thin onion strip-type things), then tried to atomize some baby carrots in the food processor (only to discover that the lid is broken so the carrots and bits of carrots splattered all over one side of the kitchen). I squished up the last box of tofu and start up the process of makin' curry. When I finally cracked open the package of curry blocks, I put my nose next to the bullion and sniffed. Oh, but it smelled delicious. It smelled like everything I miss most about New York. It smelled like sitting in line for a blockbuster on opening night with friends. It smelled like walking along in time to my CDs, going 10 minutes per 20 blocks. It smelled like having twenty different choices of where to eat out. It smelled like easy transportation. It smelled like...Japanese-style curry, really. It's tasty-tasty, though sauce-phobic Halifax would sooner throw his toenail collection at your head than eat the stuff.

I added too much butter to saute the badly-sliced onion (which stoutly refused to brown no matter how I tried), but that turned out in my favor as the reheated curry cooked up quickly and well later in the nuker. Or something. Anyway, I thought it tasted good, but I'm a big dairy fan and have no issue with oil from butter as I believe it to be a super-tasty kind of oil. (I also am fond of dipping bread into herbed olive oil. I'm a freak.)

At a certain point (I think it was just after I put in all of the water), I decided I wanted to put some of the udon into the curry, too. I'm not sure why I did this, except I wanted the noodles to taste especially curry-y (and didn't want to bother with a pot of boiling water, I suspect). I had to add a LOT more water to the mess in the saute pan, but it worked out okay in the end. As a matter of fact, I managed to extend the curry much longer than usual because I'd added so much stuff to it (in the form of udon noodles).

This curry lasted me until last week. Two weeks' worth of tofu curry with udon. I had it mostly for lunch on days when I got home early from class and during weekends. It smelled sooooo goooood. And now it is gone. And there is no freakin' way I'd spend shipping on buying some more.

But then, I'm going grocery shopping in Boston this Friday with C--, and I'm sure the Chinese grocery will have my S & B.

Ooh, and gummis! Cheap Japanese gummis! Mmm. And strawberry Pocky and curry Pretz and those koala bear things with chocolate inside....

Because she told me to, that's why

ET has complained over two media of communication (in the comments on her blog and over the phone) that I haven't posted enough of late on my blog. Never mind the long-winded disclaimer I posted, um...when was that? Oh, right, October...about not posting as frequently anymore 'cause I'm, like, you know, busy with school and houseslave work and such.

I have a chapter test tomorrow in Japanese and cannot remember most of the chapter. I have an essay test on Dante's Inferno which has to incorporate a critical essay I was assigned, criticizing the criticism (which sounds like half-way to an English Ph.D. candidate's wet dream to me). I'm waaaay behind on my reading for three classes out of four, have to write five papers which I didn't hand in on time in three classes, have research to do on another, a proposal to write on a final project, as well as actually getting my arse in gear for the project (final total of pages: 7 creative work, 9 analysis of failure/success of creative work). My brain's about to bust.

Yes, it's still better than working for Evil Incorporated, a.k.a. my former job. Or for Evil Ltd., my job before that one.

I have nothing to write about. Really. Um, go look at the new pictures I posted this morning. My Hallowe'en pumpkin is there, looking stoned.

Stoned. That's the word I was looking for. I couldn't remember it. I wrote drugged instead. I knew it wasn't right, but I couldn't remember stoned. I wonder if I can change the subtitle on the pictures. D'oh.

Um, other than school. Um. Well, I've met a bunch of writers through one of my classes. Ha Jin showed up near the beginning of the semester with Leslie Epstein, who's not half as nice as Jin. Tobias Wolff came yesterday. I got a huge pile of books signed by him. Sorry, only family members. I couldn't figure out who else might like to read Tobias Wolff's new novel. Signed first editions, though. That's nice, eh?

Maurice Sendak and Tony Kushner are coming to Books of Wonder on November 15. Unfortunately, they won't be signing anything but their new books. Which sucks for those with Sendak collections (I wanted my The Bat Poet signed) and copies of Angels In America. I'll be in Boston that day, so it's a moot point for me (I was going to send Mom in with The Bat Poet).

Cornelia Funke, author of The Thief Lord will be there for a publication party this Thursday (I have class late in the day and can't make it) for her new book, Inkheart, while James Howe (Bunnicula was one of my favorite series when I was a kid), Tamora Pierce and Holly Black will be there November 16 (I'll be travelling back from Boston).

Um, well. I have to go finish making dinner, so if you'll excuse me....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, C--!

hope all went well with the exams.

sooooo looking forward to your party.
mmmm, C--'s cooking.... drool
that's probably the only time I'll ever drool over someone's vegetarian cooking, by the way.

hope you have a fahbulous day, in spite of it being a workday.

xo-kla.

p.s. hello to S-- and Athena.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

some of you are enjoying the company of published authors.

others are having fun at costume parties.

i'm busy eating chocolates meant for the trick-or-treaters who never came.

mmm, Kit-Kat....

-l.t.s.k.

This was homework

We're studying Dante's Inferno in Literature of the Middle Ages. This test was assigned to my class. We're required to take it.

Please note my results have changed since I last took the test. I'm not entirely sure why, except that maybe I've stopped some of the stupider stuff I did in my twenties. It's good to grow up sometimes.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to Purgatory!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	High
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	High
Level 2 (Lustful)	Low
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Moderate
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

Lack of Importance, an update

My Google Rating is now down to 2 out of 10, from 3 out of 10. I am even less significant than I was but a month and a half ago.

sigh It's all so pointless, isn't it? Why bother?

...

Ah, well. Off to bed.

Boston, CHEAP!

I'm going to Boston next month. My friend, C--, is throwing a multi-function party. 1) actuarial exams are over! 2) his birthday. 3) his evil, disgusting housemate is vacating the premises. I shall be taking Amtrak, which is a five-hour ride. This will give me time to do reading for class and sleep, which I cannot seem to get enough of of late (Mom says I'm moving into hibernation mode).

How can I possibly afford to take the train to Boston from Albany? Easy. While round-trip fare from Albany to NYC is about $100, round-trip to Boston is only $38. Cheaper if you have a AAA number. CHEAP! CHEAP! Okay, so there might be a semi-legal bus service which is cheaper, but I like having my own seat and not having to worry about someone picking my pockets if I happen to nap off while reading a textbook.

Yaaaay! I get to see C--! Picture me running about the house a la Kermit the Frog when he's really excited about the start of a particular episode of The Muppet Show.

ooooooooooh! aaaaaaaah!

If you haven't been up to the Northeast of late, you should come up soon. While much of the leaves are gone, there's still plenty left and it's unsually beautiful, even for this region. The colors are intense and varied. I never thought I'd say brown leaves are beautiful, but they are this year.

[END OF TOURISM PLUG FOR NEW ENGLAND AND NORTHERN NEW YORK STATE. WE WILL NOW RESUME THE REGULARLY SCHEDULED POINTLESS WHINING.]

Drunken Bastards

I just saw something which epitomizes the college students at U-Albany: a giant empty bottle of Canadian Molson sitting on the wet pavement under one of the concrete benches between Humanities and Education. I laughed and wished I had my camera with me so I could take a picture. Maybe when I come back to campus later today I can bring my camera, take a picture, and post it on my blog. I'll have to put something next to it so you can understand the scale. It's huge. Huge-ass big. And sitting on campus between two of the buildings.

This is a party school. I'd heard that when I initally applied, but my dad, who was working here at the time, vehemently denied it. He was a goddamned liar.

The kids here drink like `80's frat movie characters. They drink until they get alcohol poisoning and die. They come into afternoon classes on a Wednesday with hangovers. It's amusing at a certain level, like the huge-ass, green Canadian Molson bottle. It also sucks as the professors have to be much harsher than at other universities as the students generally don't give a rat-fuck and need to have even the faintest work ethic beaten into their alcohol-damaged minds in order to make the teaching of the course worthwhile. It amazes me large numbers of people graduate. It amazes me professors don't just throw their hands in the air and give up, reciting from the same yellowed notes they used fifteen years ago (like the professors at NYU). They still care, even though the student body is too fucking drunk to care back.

But, damn, that empty bottle made me laugh.

Trust me, the Donger knows

Yet another example of life being vastly improved by television: "I Love the 80s Strikes Back". All the weird pop culture shit of my childhood, summarized in hour-long years. God, how fabulous. I laughed 'til I cried when they covered Jolt Cola (1985).

Death and Destruction, with lots of swear words

This has audio, so's if you're watching with a bitchy boss looking over your shoulder, you may get into trouble. Or you may have no sound and therefore miss half the fun. Anyway, go watch the end of the world.

kawaiiiiiiiiiiiiii

"Cowboy Bebop: Ed & Ein Plush"

Must! Have! Ed & Ein doll!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

If only she came with her hacker equipment, too.

AUUUUUUUUGH!!!

Jeff Weaver?

Jeff Fucking Weaver?

Jeff "I blow every game I pitch" Weaver?

Oh, for fuck's sake, Joe! Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

"We need long relief."

Weaver is not relief. He's what you need relief from. He's the reason for antiacids in Yankees fans homes across the nation. He sucks. He sucks so much I have a chant whenever I see him: "Try not to suck, Jeff!" He never listens. He always sucks.

Oh, the pain. The agony. I hate second-guessing you like this, Mr. Torre, but what the bloody hell were you thinking, bringing Weaver back in in the bottom of the 12th? Why? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, whyyyyyyyyyy?!

sob

Neige, yuki, Schnee, la neve, la nieve, white stuff

It snowed today. Today, October 22. We haven't even ended daylight savings time yet. People still haven't bought their Halloween pumpkins yet. Snow.

Okay, so mostly it was rain and then some snain (rain and snow at the same time; not to be confused with sleet, which is slush falling from the sky; or with frozen rain, which is super-cold rain which is ice when it hits anything). But I looked out the classroom window, and there was the snow. I went to get the mail, and it was snowing.

Don't get me wrong. I love snow. It's purty.

Still, this just brings home the Farmers' Almanac prediction for this winter: it will be super-harsh. Yeah, even more harsh than last winter. Time to get mentally prepared for fifty foot blizzards, I guess.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HALIFAX!

belated, that is.

i still don't know exactly when your birthday is. i've heard it was around the time you moved but....

anyway, belated happy birthday.

i need your new address so's i can send you a birthday/housewarming present.
or an address so's i can send you a birthday-type present.
hey, if you don't like it, i'm never around, so you can regift it with ease.
regifting: fun, easy, free!
just try not to let on you did it, or i might cry.

cheers.
-l.t.s.k.

Words, Words, Words

I take special joy in some words. Sometimes because of the sound (eeeee-bola!), sometimes because of the specific meaning, sometimes just because. I can't say today's Word of the Day will be listed among my favorites, but I do like it lots.

• • •

vitiate • \VIH-shee-ayt\ • verb
1 : to make faulty or defective : impair
2 : to debase in moral or aesthetic status
3 : to make ineffective

Diana

Tonight will be the Hunter's Moon, which is one of the cooler names for a moon. I suspect, however, that many men are looking forward to November 8th.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAVID!

i'm still older than you are.

as with SheepBoy (see below),
i'm sending you something but it make take a while as sending something requires i go to the post office.
also, i don't have your new address. you jerk.

anyway, happy birthday.

-l.l.b.s.

Still There

As of the 6th of October, Dresselmeyer is still in his cage at the vet's office, waiting for someone to give him a home. This breaks my heart as I really, really like Dresselmeyer and would take him home myself if I didn't have two of the world's greatest felines already here. Oscar would never forgive me.

Dresselmeyer's fully recovered from donating blood to a cat in need of emergency care (what a good samaritan!) and is back to being his friendly, cuddly self. I could really see myself getting attached to that cat. He very much deserves a home.

I'm not going to start on Monkey, the scared, sweet little skinny black kitten, or Isis, the gray and white long-hair with the sleepy eyes.

If all were right with the world, Dresselmeyer would be my cat and my nephews would take care of Monkey and my mom would take Isis to play with the even-longer-furred Floof and Oscar would still love me unconditionally.

Poor Dresselmeyer. I think he's starting to recognize me now, too, and wondering why I'm leaving him in there.

Hey, they gave me a form to apply for a job there, at the vet's. Maybe I could take care of him then. If they give me a job.

Lucky

Did I ever mention I like all of my classes, meaning I like what we're studying and the texts we're reading and the professors teaching?

The students, well, I could do without a lot of them, but a couple of cool ones have surfaced in a couple of the classes.

For the most part, though, I'm lucky in my class selection this semester. This makes not doing so hot so far rather upsetting to me. I want to do well in these good courses and do well for my professors.

I'm such a dork.

(At least I'm doing okay on my Japanese quizzes so far.)

On Not Posting

The computer has been more or less on the fritz.

I have been very busy trying to keep up with classes (and generally failing to do so, mostly because of the state of the computer).

I have been having too much fun being distracted by my (our, our) new toy, the DVR. I am now watching Alias and many anime programs shown on this unknown TechTV channel (or whatever it's called) and so on. Shows I didn't get to watch before because of the dominance of HBO's Sunday 9:00 shows in my life (The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Carnivale). I could watch both West Wing and Angel if the writing on the former hadn't obviously taken a turn for the lame and lazy (it's bad. not super-bad, but definitely not good in a packed-with-bad-television-cliches kind of way). Yay, Angel! I would be more upset about missing the season opener, except I know it'll be shown this winter during the break and the many, many, many weeks of repeats. The DVR will do its duty and the episode shall be there. Huzzah for the DVR!

Now if only Mom would let me set up the VCR properly so it's hooked up to cable.

non sequitur: Halifax, isn't your birthday in October, too?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHEEPBOY!

you're still older than i am.

i'm sending you something, but it make take a while as sending something requires i go to the post office. also, i'm not sure i have your address. again. tra la.

anyway, happy birthday SpeedRacerG.

-l.t.s.k.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM!

big hug, a.k.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JACKIE!

xo, l.l.s.

Whoops, I forgot to mention...

I don't know if any of you went, or if you even like Dave Matthews Band, which I do a lot, but there's a live broadcast of their free concert in Central Park right now through AOL at this site which I'm not even sure you can access, anyway. But I thought I'd post this, in case there's someone with broadband or DSL who's reading my blog now and likes the band. It's pretty good. These live broadcasts have a hell of a lot better in just a couple of years, like, scary much better.

Ah, well. Tra la.

Phoning in the blog posts

Late Night TV Political Humor

e-mailed to me by my elder sister

"Finally, a candidate who can explain the Bush administration's positions on civil liberties in the original German."
- Bill Maher, on Schwarzenegger running for Governor.

"President Bush is supporting Arnold. But a lot of Republicans are not, because he is actually quite liberal. Karl Rove said if his father hadn't been a Nazi, he wouldn't have any credibility with conservatives at all."
- Bill Maher

"President Bush is on a 35-day vacation, and before he left he had his annual physical, and it turns out his cholesterol now is lower than his approval rating."
- David Letterman

"Yesterday, Arnold Schwarzenegger announced he would run for governor of California. The announcement was good news for Florida residents who now live in the second flakiest state in the country."
- Conan O'Brien

"Apparently Arnold was inspired by President Bush, who proved you can be a successful politician in this country even if English is your second language."
- Conan O'Brien

"They're saying Arnold will get 95% of the vote. At least according to his brother, Jeb Schwarzenegger."
- Craig Kilborn

"President Bush has been silent on Schwarzenegger. Of course -- he can't pronounce 'Schwarzenegger'."
- David Letterman

"Here's how bad California looks to the rest of the country. People in Florida are laughing at us."
- Jay Leno

"Well, we're all excited because President Bush has started his 35-day vacation. He's down there in Crawford, Texas, and on the first day of his vacation he went fishing. He didn't find any fish, but he believes they're there and that his intelligence is accurate."
- David Letterman

"The White House released a videotape of President Bush meeting with his cabinet, and today Iraqi officials say they believe the tape is authentic."
- Jay Leno

"The United States is putting together a Constitution now for Iraq. Why don't we just give them ours? It's served us well for 200> years, and we don't appear to be using it anymore. So what the hell?"
- Jay Leno

"President Bush held his first full press conference in over five months this week. He announced that the war on terrorism is continuing, much, much more work needs to be done on the economy, and Saddam Hussein has not yet been captured. Then he said, 'I'm going on vacation for a month.' "
- Jay Leno

"The White House says that the vacation in Texas will give President Bush the chance to unwind. My question is, when does the guy wind?"
- David Letterman

"If you add up all the time he's spent on the ranch, he's spent more time in hiding than bin Laden and Hussein put together."
- Bill Maher

"[President Bush] used his press conference to come out very strongly against gay marriage. And then he said, on a personal note, that he apologized if he had done anything to lead Tony Blair on."
- Bill Maher

"President Bush's economic team is now on their Jobs and Growth bus tour all across America. I think the only job they created so far is for the guy driving the bus."
- Jay Leno

"President Bush has refused to declassify portions of the congressional 9/11 reports about the Saudis, because he says it will help the enemy. Not Al Qaeda, the Democrats."
- Jay Leno

Bumpersticker Ideas For The Republicans For 2004

also e-mailed to me by my sister

• Bush/Cheney '04: Leave no billionaire behind
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Less CIA -- More CYA
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Lies and videotapes, but no sex!
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Making the world a better place, one country at a time.
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Putting the "con" in conservatism
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Thanks for not paying attention.
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Four More Wars!
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Don't Change Whores in the middle of a screw.
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Assimilate. Resistance is Futile.
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Apocalypse Now!
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Compassionate Colonialism
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: The economy's stupid!
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: This time, elect us!
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: We're Gooder!
  
• Bush/Cheney '04: Asses of Evil
  
  
• George W. Bush: A brainwave away from the presidency
  
• George W. Bush: It takes a village idiot
  
• George W. Bush: He's Not as Dumb as Arnold.
  
  
• Vote Bush in '04: "I Has Incumbentory Advantitude"
  
• Vote Bush in '04: Because dictatorship is easier
  
• Vote Bush in '04: It's a no-brainer!
  
  
• Vote for Bush & You Get Dick!
  
• Who would Jesus Bomb?
  
• With a Bush and a Dick, everyone gets screwed
  
• One Small Vote for Bush. One Big Vote for Halliburton.

Okay, so I'll blog about this

The photos on Eric Conveys an Emotion range from make-me-smirk to crack-me-the-hell-up. Eric's latest Adventure, The New Pad, made me laugh very, very hard. Go see! (And check out the tee-shirt.)

On Being and Nothingness

I will probably not be posting much else to my blog for a while.

I'm not dating anyone. I'm not wishing I were dating anyone. I'm not being stalked. I'm not getting eyes from anyone.

I'm busy with much reading and much writing. I'm behind in reading and writing. I've research to do. I've hiragana to memorize. I've vocabulary to memorize. I've "action verbs" to memorize. I've index cards to write up to aid in memorization.

I'm not reading anything outside of class (except for Alan Moore's From Hell, which I got on sale from Powell's along with my Japanese-English dictionary, but I'm only reading it before bed and thereby guaranteeing eventual scary-gross-bloody-freaky nightmares). I'm not going to movies. You can see what I'm watching on T.V. from the list, and nothing I have to say about any of the shows would add to what has been posted on friends' blogs or printed up in newspapers or magazines.

I'm not travelling. I won't be going travelling any time soon. (Except for maybe to a Yankees game this weekend, but that's to use up rain cancellation tickets from my birthday.)

I do not have a job. I have no anecdotes about coworkers because I don't have a job. I have no anecdotes about classmates as they are a good portion drunken frat boys and sorostitutes, and drunken frat boys and sorostitutes are boring in their annoying habits of stupidity. (I do have one super-annoying Chinese girl in my Japanese class who has the worst fucking penmanship in the world and won't take correction because she is always, always right, even though she is usually wrong--and usually late to class. My only comfort in dealing with her is thinking how much ET would hate her fat ugly ass if she ever met her. She won't, though. ET should be very, very happy indeed in knowing she will, in all likelihood, never, ever, ever have to deal with this stupid, stupid bitch. The majority of the female non-round-eyes in that class are really pretty and smart and at least quadlingual.

I'm sure every white boy reading this is now drooling and trying to figure out a way to sneak into my class, mostly because I ended the description with a word that had "lingual" in it. You are gross. These girls--they're super-young in my eyes, so "girls"--are smart, have beautiful penmanship and make me feel old, slow, and super-stupid. But you're still gross, you pervy, pervy gaijin.) The rest of my classmates are mild and leave no mental aftertaste. They are all still about twelve years younger than I am, except on the occasion when they are twenty years older than I am. The ones who are older than I am are, without exception, deeply troubled people, as is shown by their distorted fashion sense (oh gawd the hair!) and their dumb commentary in class. They are not as dumb as the sorostitutes or the annoying ugly chick in my Japanese class, but they are dumb and it must be stated somewhere that they are so and that their stupidity reflects badly upon me, 'cause, for pete's sake, I am categorized as an "Adult Learner" too, so they are my equals in the eyes of UoA Admissions. Oh, lord, this means I am like them: I am an old, ugly, fashion-challenged, mentally-disturbed 'tard. I weep bitter tears at this revelation.

So, that's it. Nothing's doing.

Except I have a cell phone with a lot of unused minutes on it but have no one to call.

And I should have spent the time I just wasted on typing up this post on catching up on my reading for Medieval Lit. so I can get the journal up-to-date so I and turn it in tomorrow morning and not get a lousy grade.

I'm pathetic.

New song, true

This is probably the most honest I responded to the quiz, so this is me as a Cowboy Bebop theme song, most of the time. I might be the other two sometimes, though. People are complicated that way. Or I'm crazy, one or the other.

Not that this all means a damned thing. Still, better playing with this than reading more modern poetry, neh?

No, not really.

Today's song

Bear in mind, Cats On Mars was my theme song last time.

So what's your Cowboy Bebop theme song?

Measuring importance

Mom installed the Google toolbar to our Internet Explorer, mainly to block pop-ups, which it does quite handily. There are little handy items in the bar, like a space where we can type in what we might want to search on Google, an item to let us select where we want to seach in specific, an icon which let's me enter in a blog entry quickly, an icon which tells us how many pop-ups have been blocked so far (118), etc.

One interesting item is the PageRank bar. "PageRank is Google's measure of the importance of this page." This particular page, where I can edit my blog, is ranked 0/10, as I'm the only one who accesses it, I suppose. More interesting is the ranks given to blogs and sites I visit:

• Sam's blog: 5/10.
  
• ET's blog: 4/10.
  
• Maggie's blog: 3/10.
  
• JerkSquad!!: 4/10.
  
• Octopus Army: 3/10.
  ...and my blog?
  
• tmoltsk: 2/10.

Conclusion? No one likes me. I write a boring blog and nobody likes me and I have no friends.

Bwwaaaaa! sniffle

'Course, I could be wrong about that. I've been wrong before.

Whooosh!

The most we got of the rain today was a few hours of downpour in the morning. But since then, the wind has been strange. Strong, humid, swaying back and forth through the trees. It's driving the cats mad; they're running about the house, willy-nilly, meowing for nothing and everything, content to sit for only moments at a time, then leaping up and skt-skt-skt their back claws tap against the floor as they start the whole routine again, speeding into the next room and the next. Are they following the wind? Why do they respond so strongly to something outside the house which they can't even feel? I didn't feel like running until I stood out there early this afternoon, wondering why Mom would want to read the paper and do the puzzle in such strange, sticky wind, and then it was only to get indoors.

oh my fucking gawd

Follow the link and you shall see the one, the only, the dickhead.

A ribbon-like strip running around the back of the head bears an inscription, written in reverse, which translates as "every man looks at me as if I were a head of dicks".

Oh, lord, how full of wonder is the world.

Change in medication

Finally got to talk to my doctor today (well, yesterday evening at this point), after nearly two weeks of phone tag. While I didn't get to tell him about everything that's gone wrong since the weird bump in my taking my meds this past spring, he said, "Ah, yes," about halfway through the list of problems and quickly thought up a replacement pill for the one I'm taking and wrote up the 'script' to mail my way.

I'm so durned happy about this; I've been feeling gawdawful for months now. Here's hoping the switch in a couple of weeks will make for a big, happy, non-new-ailment-inducing change. Yay.

If not, well, he says I'll have to go in for a sonogram or MRI or something like that, which will be FUN! and expensive, and I'm without medical insurance right now, so it'll be even more FUN! trying to figure out how to pay for all of it. Yay.

Or, as Joelly-bear might put it, Ooh, ecstasy joy.

I just wish there was a pill I could take just once which would take care of this weird-arse condition once and for all. I'm sick of having to remember to take this stuff. And my freak-girl reactions. Bleh.

Frustrated Yankees fan rant

First there's Boomer and Moose getting screwed out of winning their 200th career games. They would have been #99 and #100 on the all-time 200-game winners. Or 100th and 101st, depending on whose records you believe. That's another story, though. Pre-1900 baseball history is a tad fuzzy. Anyway, so Boomer gets screwed out of his 200th by the Yankees not being able to get a frickin' hit with a man on base even though the pitcher they were facing has lost more games than he's won this year. They're the Orioles, for pete's sake. They've been out of the pennant race for ages. They should be able to hit the crap out of their pitching staff, but they can't buy a frickin' hit. Then there's poor, brilliant Moose, who was made to pitch on the day the hurricane hit Maryland. The game was a 1-1 tie when they had to cancel due to inclement weather. No shit, inclement weather. They'd closed the schools, the federal government, the trains, but they just had to make these guys play a ball game? Plus, why, why can't the current Yankees hit these lousy pitchers? What the heck is going on?

Even worse is the rumor that Joe Torre, my dad's hero, possibly my favorite man in the Yankees uniform, will walk come the off-season. If he isn't fired first. Steinbrenner has not hit one good note with his bitching, whining and complaining this season. Giambi's not been half the player we'd been sold when he bought him off of the A's. Weaver was a horrible trade acqusition from the beginning. The bullpen has been dead all season long. Aaron Boone, while a good player, hasn't hit a lick; I really can't see how his being on the team is an improvement, especially when he's barely hitting over 220.

Steinbrenner has been a whiny, interfering bitch since before the season started, blaming people who've done their best to help the team. I can't blame Torre for wanting to leave. It's amazing he's withstood that mock-turtleneck bastard as long as he has. But at least Steinbrenner had the decency to keep his fat mouth shut the previous years (for the most part). He just couldn't shut up this season. And it's most definitely not having the effect he wanted. Yeah, that's right, Steinbrenner, demoralize your team and coaching staff. That'll definitely lead to the World Series.

I understand the impetus behind the complaints. The team has not been what it was in the past. But that's because the team is not composed of the players it had in the past. Sure, you have Posada, Jeter and Williams up the middle, and Matsui has been one hell of a player, but the rest of the field has been more miss than hit. Except for Nick Johnson, who might have had a year to blow baseball away if it hadn't been for that broken hand. Giambi has sucked more often than not. Same to for that platoon in right, where we'd once had the rock-solid O'Neill. Third has been a question mark, though Robin Ventura obviously did a lot for the clubhouse attitude. And Soriano. Oh, lord, Soriano. Apparently he has swallowed every bit of hype printed about him in the past couple of years. Yeah, sure, he's 30-30, but his fielding is piss-poor and his bat is dead more often than not. He is the Yankee in best need of a bitch-slap. Or an entire bitch-slap therapy session.

There seems to be an element missing, the fire in thebelly, the need to win. While there is a core of hard-working players, the rest seem to be lost on the field, dozing, content simply to wear the pinstripes instead of earning them. It's beyond infuriating. I hate them for what they're doing to the team on the whole, the lackidasical players. They could do with another angry O'Neill, someone to smash the water cooler after every strikeout, someone with a visible passion for the game, someone with a temper aimed only at himself because he expects perfection every time out there. For a moment, when Boone nearly blew his top at a botched call a few weeks back, I thought he might be O'Neill's heir, the fire in the Yankee belly, the burning heart of the team. But he isn't. Close, but no O'Neill, just like Giambi doesn't have half the presence of a Tino, even though he has the better bat. There's no real team, though the core pitching, Boomer, Rocket, Pettitte and Moose, appear to have bonded through this rough season of spotty swinging and erruptions from the bullpen and their own inexplicable occasionally faltering arms. There are cliques instead of the well-oiled team of the late 90's. Few of the players then had banner years, but they played so well together as a team that it didn't matter. Their whole was greater than the sum of its parts, even with the future-hall-of-fame Jeters.

The fact that Torre has been able to get this mismatched collection to hold onto the top of the AL East is a tribute to his managing skills. The fact that Torre has not quit already in spite of Steinbrenner's behavior is another tribute to his managing skills. The man has had to manage management, team and coaches. It blows my mind what he must go through. I'd definitely say he's been worth every penny of that $5 mil. And I'm sure I won't be alone in missing him greatly if the rumors are true and Torre isn't sitting next to Zim on the bench in Tampa next year.

Update on the unnamed cat

We have the best vet. Shaker Veterinary Hospital. They're great with animals, they run an animal placement service, finding homes for strays and animals whose owners can't keep anymore, and they were quick to help us when we brought in the dead cat we found last night. They took the cat, box and all (what, I want to keep a box which had had a dead animal in it?), and told us they were going to put an ad in the paper about the cat. The head vet said he and his staff would also try to ID the cat. So they might be able to find the owner. They probably will.

So that's a big relief.

Only problem is, there's this cat, Dresselmeyer

who has been in the little animal placement service cages (they call the placement service Save-a-Pet) for a couple of weeks now. When I first saw him, I thought maybe my sister, E--, whose family had just lost their cat Mitzi (hit by a car), might like to take him. I got my heart set on finding a home for him. He was sweet natured for such a large cat stuck in such a small space (not fat, but tall--he could most definitely take on a lapdog and win, if he were so inclined). He was also good looking; with his sleek black coat and small white bib he looked like he was about to go to the opera. But my sister told me they were looking for a kitten, that my nephew J-- insisted on a kitten.

I was unreasonaly angered by her capitulating to J--'s request for a kitten. There are so many good cats who need homes, I thought. Why can't she at least give Dresselmeyer a chance? I'd even taken pictures of him hoping a peek at the cat would persuade her, but I never got the chance to e-mail it to her. Still, it's up to them to take on an animal. Why should they bow to my choice?

So, he's still there, a couple weeks later, waiting in that cage for someone to notice how good a cat he is and take him home. I don't know what to do, as there's no way I could persuade Mom to take on another, a third cat, especially now that Oscar is starting to cost a lot more with his blood tests and all. But I want to know Dresselmeyer's in a good home. So I'm posting a couple of pictures of him, not the best pictures but better than nothing, on my Fotolog and hoping for the best.

It looks like it's sleepingor, why you should always make sure your cat has an ID tag

Mom and I left the house at around 10:30 this morning. (Juu-ji han. ...I have to keep practicing.) It was a beautiful, sunny, totally-no-sign-of-rain day, with the requisite super-blue sky and puffy/wispy white clouds. I was in class or studying until 8:00, when Mom picked me up after a day spent at the doctor's in Connecticut checking out her foot (she won't need physical therapy anymore and she got drugs, which are always useful). We were joking around, talking about our day, admiring how beautiful the evening was. Traffic was a horror as they're busy putting in sidewalks. When we got to the house, Mom saw something fluffy by the side of the road in front of our driveway.

"Oh, my god, it's Floof."

"No!" Mostly 'cause it makes no sense that our indoor-only cat got out and got herself run over. Also 'cause I didn't want her dead. I figure she's healthy and should have some years left in her (she and Oscar turned fifteen this past May).

Mom made wide berth around the cat and stopped the car saying, "How did she get out? How did she get out?" while I kept saying "No! No!" Mom opened her door and peered at the cat in the orange-tinted road light as I leapt out of the car and ran around to see the cat.

It was dark and had a longer snout than a himalayan (our Floof is a blue-point himalayan). "It's not Floof," I said, only partially relieved.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's too dark. See?" It had the markings of a seal-point himalayan or siamese, the super-dark brown points (face, ears, legs, tail) with dark brown to light brown body. It looked like maybe a himalayan mix, as it had the coloration and the long fur, but not the super-long, super-fine fur Floof has nor the himalayan squat snout, inherited from the cross-breeding of persians with the siamese. It even seemed to have blue eyes, though I didn't look too closely. It was a beautiful cat.

It looked like it was just lying there sleeping. The only blood had come from the ear on the roadside and we didn't see that until Mom moved the cat onto the top of a carboard box which I'd brought from the garage. I couldn't bring myself to touch or move the cat, as I didn't want to feel the cat's body without any life in it.

Mom and I have no idea what to do with the cat. We've put it in a largish and solid file box with a removeable lid and put the box in the garage near the doors so it can stay a bit cooler. We don't have a freezer to put it into. We don't want to have this anonymous cat burned by the ASPCA/pound without the owner ever knowing what happened. But there's no tag on the collar. How can an owner put a collar on a cat they allow outdoors but not put a tag on it? We have no way of finding out who owns the cat to let them know where their cat is and that their cat is dead. We're hoping that the local vet's office will recognize it when we bring it in, which we can't do until they open tomorrow morning. But I can't help but feel for these people who used to have this cat sit on their laps and purr while they pet its soft, dark head and stroked its long fur. If the vet can't ID it, we'll have to bury it without the owners ever knowing what happened. They'll think it ran away.

Poor cat. Poor, stupid owners. Mostly, though, poor cat.

It was really lovely. It was still warm when Mom moved it to the box lid. It felt like it was simply very relaxed, maybe deep in sleep, when I moved it to the box. You couldn't tell what was wrong until you saw the eyes, which were starting to film over. I tried to put the cat in a position in the box like it was just sleeping, but it didn't quite work. The head hung funny. I tried to close the eyes, but I just mussed up the fur on the head. I hope it didn't suffer, but it's hard to tell. The bladder was still emptying when I put it in the box. What can we do? Whom do we tell? Someone's lost their lovely pet cat. I suppose, if we can't find the owner, we'll bury it tomorrow. I'll have to think of a name for the cat. I don't think I could bury it without a name.

When I finally got inside, the cats greeted me, wondering where we had been for so long and if they could please have some dinner, which was two hours late. I fed them and gave Oscar his medication and pet them and pet them and pet them. I just wanted to get the feeling of dead cat off of my hands, to have my hands remember what my warm, living, responsive, purring cats feel like when I pet them.

When I was petting Oscar, I thought, "I feel like I'm touching him with hands of death." Like somehow I'm spreading what happened to that anonymous cat to Oscar, who's been sick lately and making me nervous. I've death on my hands that needs a name. I wish that cat hadn't died, and I wish I could give it a more dignified end. I don't want my cats to somehow catch death from the death on my hands and the death in the box in the garage.

I just don't know what to do.

Unsmart, as in lacking in smartness or "smarts"

So, I got up early-early this morning to work on the interview questions and response paper for these two short story collections for my Writers at Work course. What do I do as soon as I sit at the computer? Mess around with my new blog template. For what? Is it that much improved from last night? Not really. (Well, some of my links are there.) Oy. This is beyond procrastination. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Auuuuugh! Where the hell is my e-mail?!

AOL sucks ass.

But then, you knew that already.

Still, the latest version sucks more ass than usual. It is a vast vortex of ass-sucking. Can you hear it? That horrid, slurping, phhhhhoit-phhhhhoit sound? That's AOL v.9.0. Suck, suck, suck, suck. Massive suckage.

AOL: now even suckier than before.

I Miss My Friends

I am sick and tired of being hundreds of miles from my friends. I want to go see movies and eat at restaurants and have strange and winding conversations about everything and nothing. Perhaps my memories are shinier and happier than the reality of what was and what would be if I were there now, but I don't care. (To be honest, considering the inconvenience of my living in CT the whole time back then, is this that much different?)

And if I'm this bad just being in Albany, a mere three-hour drive from friends in two cities (from NYC or Boston), I can just imagine how whiny I'd be if I were in Japan teaching English like I'm hoping to be in a couple years' time.

Under Construction

I got bored with my old template, which was a nice, pretty blue, but boring, boring boring and lacking in design, so I've loaded one of the standard templates now available from Blogger and am currently fixing it to my liking. Lord only knows how long that will take as I have to get used to how this person writes in html (not being literate in html, it's a constant adjustment for me to figure out what's going on in various templates). Things should be up and running by next Monday. I guess.

I mean, I've a lot of reading to do and a lot of memorization. You know, Japanese. Five is go. That sort of thing. I'm learning the alphabet (hiragana) and how to count (ichi, ni, san, yon, go...). I'm like a frickin' preschooler. A preschooler with boobies.

"For One 9/11 Family, Five Waves of Grief"

from today's New York Times
full article here. written by Dan Barry of the Times for the "About New York" column.

Professor Gurland of NYU's philosophy department once told my class that the true evil of the Holocaust or the Turkish genocide of the Armenians or any such act can only be measured if you consider what it would be like, how long it would take, to meet and shake the hand of every victim, to consider each individual affected, to turn the numbing numbers into individual people.

. . . . .

The other day Al and Ginger Petrocelli learned that some remains of their son, Mark, had been identified. Again. Which meant that it was time to visit the funeral home. Again. Time to cremate. Again.

This was the fifth time in the last two years that parts of Mark Petrocelli had been identified. Mark Petrocelli, 28: husband of Nicole, son of Al and Ginger, younger brother of Al Jr., uncle of Emily, friend of many. The fifth time.

[...]

"This time," the father said, "from his left knee down to the top of his foot. Right femur with right lower leg and kneecap. Some skin. A piece of skull bone. Soft tissue. Muscle."

[...]

The phrases we rely on to make sense of grief have always failed to convey the ache of the irreplaceable. But even with the grace of two years, the World Trade Center collapse continues to render meaningless such terms as "closure" and "moving on."

Acceptance may be a better word, acceptance of how the event has become incorporated in our everyday lives — in who we are. At least that is how your neighbors the Petrocellis see it. The Petrocellis, one wounded family among thousands.

[...]

Mark Petrocelli, a commodities trader for Carr Futures, was attending a meeting on the 92nd floor of the north tower, which says it all in the parlance of post-9/11.But the Petrocellis did not know this on that day. Al Petrocelli, a retired battalion chief with the Fire Department, and Al Jr., also a firefighter, raced to Lower Manhattan after the attack.

The father remembered feeling a can-do sense of mission, an echo from his days as a firefighter and as a soldier in Vietnam. "I thought that `I could go down there and I'll find Mark,' " he said. But reality set in with the rain that fell two days later, he said. "I came home and said, `No way.' "

[...]

On Sept. 25, 2001, the Petrocellis learned that Mark's death had been confirmed through dental records. On Oct. 26, they were told that his upper torso had been identified. On Nov. 11, some soft tissue and muscle. On March 21, 2002, four parts, including his heart.

"They found his heart," Mrs. Petrocelli said. "What do you say?"

. . . . .
for more on the two-year anniversary, visit "September 11, 2003" at The New York Times website.

Writer's Almanac

The Writer's Almanac is one of my favorite things on the radio. It never takes very long, maybe about ten minutes, but in that time, the quiet, calm, comforting voice of Garrison Keillor tells of a few writers, poets, publishers born on that particular day, with a short biography for each, as well as any literary events of historical import which may have happened way back when, then recites a poem or two, different each day. It's folksy, highly literate and educational in the best sense of all three. I'm always happy when I manage to catch it on NPR in the morning (or evening, depending upon the local station's programming schedule).

Battle Instructions

I am taking a tiny break from studying Japanese. I have most of the conversations from the section memorized (Hajimemashite. Mochizuki desu. Doozo yoroshiku. etc.), but the hiragami introduced on Thursday is escaping me. I keep mixing up shi and su, which is stupid, and I'm forgetting the stuff I'd already memorized, like ke and e and u, which is even stupider.

Anyway, to entertain myself, I decided to open up the Helm's Deep Battle Figures box I got on sale from Toys'R'Us when I was with my sister. (It was on sale! It had Legolas! I had to!) As I was removing the figures from an entanglement of plastic-coated security wires, I discovered a sheet in the box entitled "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers Helm's Deep Battle Set Instruction Sheet." Turns out these action figures have their own Middle-Earth-type kung-fu action, as follows:

• Haldir (a.k.a., The Ugly Elf Who Was Sent To Die)
  ... "Bow Attack Action" : he shoots arrows!
  
• Legolas (a.k.a., The Pretty Elf With Mad Skillz Who Will Never, Ever Die)
  ... "Weapon Wielding Action" : uh, he holds his sword, bow, or daggers (like unto kung-fu action grip, only with weapons).
  ... "Weapon Storage" : well, you can store lots of weapons, like arrows and the two nifty, long daggers. not really action, is it, unless you're into sheathing swords, which has connotations of its own.
  (I suspect Gimli enjoys this particular "battle action.")
  (the excess of weaponry may explain why the Pretty Elf outlives the Ugly Elf, other than Legolas is Too Pretty To Die.)
  ... "Arrow-Launcing Action" : you can shoot arrows from Pretty Elf's bow while he holds the bow, permitting reenactments of the Helm's Deep Orc-killing Competition between Legolas and his life partner, Gimli.
  
• Gimli (a.k.a., The Pretty Elf's Life Partner)
  ... "Axe-Throwing Action" : entails "Axe-Loading," which is not unlike Legolas's Weapon Wielding Action, except Gimli then throws to axe when you squeeze his legs together. neat!
  (except for maybe the leg-squeezing, which is, ah, kinda, um, gay.)
  ... he also has a removeable helmet and lots of axes which he can toss like dw-, uh, mad. like mad.
  
• King Theoden (a.k.a., The King)
  ... "Sword-Slashing Action" : you stick the sword in his hand, press a button, and swoosh! a killer sword-swooshing move!
  ... he, too, has a removeable helmet, protecting that royal head until, um, later, and, like the others, has a nice sheath to hold his manly-type sword.
  
• Aragorn (a.k.a., Still Not King)
  ... "Sword-Slashing Action" : same as King Theoden's.
  ... he has the sheath for protection of man-sword, but no helmet. I guess 'cause he's not king yet.
  ... he does have a dagger hidden behind his left arm, so you know he's going to make it through all three films: the more weaponry, the more likely the character represented by the action figure is going to survive.

I shall now have the five of them introduce themselves to each other in Japanese.

Sumimasen. Legolas-san desu ka?
Hai, soo desu.
Gimli desu. Hajimemashite. Doozo yoroshiku.
Legolas desu. Hajimemashite. Doozo yoroshiku.

Ah, the beginning of a beautiful friendship. sniff

addendum
Please note Haldir also has a removeable helmet, but seeing as the orc got him in the back (bad form!), the helmet didn't do Ugly Elf much good. Maybe he should give it to Aragorn? Or maybe Aragorn took it after cradling Dead Haldir, knowing Ugly Elf wouldn't need it to protect his unattractive head anymore.

addendum-addendum
Also, I am fully aware it was mostly, if not all, uruk-hai attacking Helm's Deep. I'm just too lazy to type out "uruk-hai" when necessary.

Also, I forgot.

Maggie and the Cats

While waiting for the 61-page excerpt from Boethius's The Consolation of Philosophy my professor wants us to read for Monday to print from its webpage, I poked through The Village Voice Best of New York 2002 Procurables section, when I found this:

Best Place To Buy a Kitty- KITTYKIND ADOPTION
Kittens are just so CUTE, aren't they? The way they crawl onto your lap, nose into grocery bags, and—oh!—join you in your soft, warm, comfortable . . . sleepy . . . bed . . . zzzzz. Wake up! It's morning, the sun is streaming through the window, and kitty wants to cuddle. Kitty, who wouldn't instantly fall in love with you? A meanie, that's who. Aren't kittens so snuggly and wonderful? Get one! Get a whole furry, writhing basketful! At KITTYKIND ADOPTION, inside of Petco. -Nick Catucci

Please note the person who wrote this ode to tiny felines is named Catucci.

This passage, naturally, made me think of Maggie. Well, it made me think of me, then Maggie, Queen of the Kittens, General of the Kitten Army. Mew!

(This made me think of Hal:

Best Place To Buy a Sloth- OBSCURA ANTIQUES & ODDITIES

. "An animal lover can take home her very own sloth, stuffed for posterity and posing on a tree segment, for $750. Conversely, a germophobe can confront his fears with a wax anatomical model of a face infected with lupus, rabies, or other diseases (prices vary). They also carry [...] decorative items made of human hair.")

Bookstore!! Bookstore!! Boooooooks!!!!

I have a weakness for books. I have slowly developed a resistance to the siren call of web-shopping, keeping my purchases on Amazon.com low-ish and infrequent-ish. However, when I get into a bookstore, an honest-to-goodness, in the flesh bookstore, my spine shatteres to bits and pieces. It wasn't so bad at first. First trip to shop for books this semester was at the campus bookstore, which is badly run and ill-stocked and over-priced. Resistance was easy. Next stop, however, my spine splintered within five minutes. I went to a local independent bookstore called Book House. It's a nifty store, the kind I like to wander in just to see what-all's on the shelves.

Lots was on the shelves. There's a little hallway between the grown-up bookstore and the kids bookstore (called The Little Book House) with really great cards for new babies and birthdays and random mailing. And there were displays. I broke first at the display for Neil Gaiman. I already had Coraline, which is super-good, yet I felt compelled to pick up a copy of Wolves in the Walls.

It's just one book, I told myself. One extra book won't kill me.

Thing is, this is like a disease. Like an addiciton. It starts with one book, yes, but quickly becomes seven more. This is me being restrained, though, as it could easily have been seventeen more, including the Pengiun edition of Alexander Dumas's The Black Tulip, which I even picked up, looked at, then placed back on the shelf. No, Sugar Kat. Baaad Sugar Kat, I told myself. (This was before the breakdown at the Gaiman display.)

Here is what I bought.

• Wolves in the Walls, Neil Gaiman
  illustrated by Dave McKean, natch
  
• Lullaby, Chuch Palahniuk
  
• Civil War Stories, Ambrose Bierce
  one of the books for another class which was just lying there in the campus bookstore this afternoon, costing only $1.50 and softly calling my name
  
• How To Be Good, Nick Hornby
  
• Notes From Underground, Fyodor Dostoevsky
  (translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky)
  
• The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (Vol. 1), Alan Moore, et al
  
• The Night in Question, Tobias Wolff
  one of the authors we're reading then meeting this semester in my Contemporary Writers at Work class; I bought this because we read one of his short stories from this collection in the first class and I really, really liked it
  
• Why We Can't Wait, Martin Luther King, Jr.
  this was one of the "recommended" books listed in my History of the Civil Rights Movement course syllabus

Not as bad as it could have been, but a heck a lot of money added to a couple of long book lists required by my professors.

I Got To Say sensei

I have a long break between classes on Tuesdays, so I thought I'd hang out at the computer lab until my next class. The writing professor I need to give me an SKN so I can get into my fourth class still hasn't returned any of my messages and he hasn't been in his office. Granted, his class doesn't start until, like, four, but I was hoping he'd be in so I could beg him (politely) to let me into this required course. I'm trying not to panic, as there's little I can do at this point. Focus on the positive, right?

Had my first Japanese class today. I was pursuaded to take Japanese instead of Chinese (Mandarin) by my friend, C--, who is from Taiwan and is a native speaker and essay and caligraphy contest winner back in Taiwan (Mandarin). He said I'd learn to read faster in Japanese. "You'll get frustrated," he said. "It would take you too long to learn to read Mandarin." Except that there's still memorization, right? I have to memorize the hiragama and kanji (the Chinese characters). Twenty-four this semester. That's all. Just twenty-four. Still, I'm hoping I'll learn to read Japanese and not have to rely on translators for my novels. I still want to learn Mandarin, as the translations appear to be even worse (very stilted, make the most exciting stories boring with crappy English), but I got scared. I'm not a spring chicken. Still, Japanese is going to be one hell of a challenge for a rapidly aging round-eye like myself. We shall see.

It was fun to sit in class. Most of the students appear to be Chinese, with a couple Korean and then the typical white suburban-with-urban-pretentions geeks. They have the uniform. The hair, the trenchcoat, the bags, the shoes/boots. They're kind of cute, these young 'uns. Kawaii-cute, not drool!-cute. Definitely not drool!-cute.

Today was mostly warning us how hard it will be to learn Japanese if you have a European background. We learned, in romanji, Nihongo ("Japanese language"), and she taught us to call her Kaya-sensei (though she wrote it "sensee" on the board, which would be pronounced very differently) and called us [family name]-san, and told us to respond "hai!" when called on during rollcall, the latter three of which I naturally knew already being the anime geek that I am. We were assigned Japanese family names which she'll use all semester. Little cards with the kanji in thick black marker, the romaji above in ballpoint and the hiragama (pronounciation guide) below the kanji in blue ballpoint, with translation into English in same. My new Japanese name is Mochizuki, which translates as hope moon (mochi being "hope" and zuki being "moon," apparently).

You can call me Mochizuki-san from now on.

She told us we could trade for another name if we didn't like ours. I was tempted to ask for a simpler name, but then I thought, "Hope is a good thing with which to start a new language and moon is the planet for Cancer, which is my sign. It should be okay."

I just hope my handwriting improves soon when writing the kanji and hiragama. Ugggggly. Seriously ugly. I'm so ashamed!

Anyway, when class was over and we were packing up our things, it took me a while to get my stuff together as I wanted to take a picture of the giant sliding ruler above the chalkboard, which was just too cool to ignore, and rearrange my backpack. I realized I wanted to ask the professor if she had ordered the textbook from the cheaper retailer downtown and actually called her Kaya-sensei to get her attention, which made her smile at me. I was so happy!

I love learning a new language. It's so cool. When I was a kid, one of my life goals was to learn as many languages as humanly possible. My goals have lessened a great deal since then, but I'd still like to learn a lot of languages, in spite of the difficulties. I'm lucky that my brother-in-law is French and my newphew is learning French so I can pick it up again from them, and I want to return to German eventually. It so comparatively easy to learn European languages, I'm ashamed I don't know the ones I learned better and haven't learned more. I'd like to get at least one Middle Eastern language under my belt and at least two Far Eastern, and all of the Celtic languages, dead and living, and Ancient Greek (I still don't like Latin, but I think I'll have to return to it to consider myself literate). We'll see. That's a lot of money and time, and I'm neither wealthy nor very young. At least I'm getting started on Japanese, though. It's taken me long enough to get up the gumption. We'll see how I do at the advanced age of thirty. (Old fart.)

HAPPY LABOR DAY

I hope all of my readers are enjoying this holiday weekend in fine style. I hope few to none of you are suffering from the gray, rainy, crappy day my mom and I are. I hope you get to use the barbeque and swim and play music loudly and run around and see movies and read books and sleep in late and play video games and not do a single stitch of work you don't want to do.

Let us now bow our heads for the poor, unlucky bastards who actually have to work on Labor Day.












Sucks to be them.

Hope work tomorrow doesn't suck at all for you all. For those of you who may be starting classes soon (like I'm starting tomorrow), I hope you got into all the classes you wanted/needed and have a great semester.

Wish me luck dealing with the morons from English Advisement who 1) didn't give me the code numbers to get into the major-specific courses, 2) have messed up the allocation of classes from my transcript AGAIN, 3) refuse to return my many messages.

I wish nasty diseases upon them. Nasty, flesh-eating diseases which cannot be transmitted to the poor English majors who have to deal with them, too. Please join me in thinking bad thoughts in the general direction of Those Who Claim They Are English Advisement But Are Actually Just There To Make English Majors' Lives Hell.












Thank you. Bless you.

(I really do dislike them. Especially the professor in charge. She's...evil. And she lies. She's an evil lying liar who makes all of our lives hell. In the English Department, that is.)

Now, go have fun, kiddies! And, remember! No wearing white shoes after Labor Day. It may have been deemed acceptable by those sad, drug-addled freaks who run the fashion shows, but it's still tacky, darling.

Unless they're sneakers. Then you're being sporty and that's just fine. You'll be the Ugly Spice Girl, but you'll be rich, so who cares?