Gwnewch y pethau bychain

Month: December 2003

I feel myself becoming a god…

mishalak did this up for me back in October, and I was so bummed about the Yankees/ Red Sox series that I forgot to post it. But I suppose Deification has no expiration date, so better late than never. Thanks mishalak

Rob the Wayfinder
God (or Patron Saint when he’s avoiding torches among hot blooded Evangelicals) of Black Cats, Sneaky Fans, Clever Commuters, and Back Roads. In his own words (sort of):
Powers: I’m the god to go to when you need help finding your way around traffic jams, construction, and those difficult to navigate side streets. Also I’m terribly helpful in being able to get in and out of places silently, almost like a cat one would say.
Weakness(es): It’s not that I’m especially vulnerable to fire, I just I guess I am for a god. So no waving torches at me! On the other hand if you’re serving Iced Tea I’ll sit down for a while and if it’s made with Darjeeling tea, well that’s just decadent.
Sacred Animal: Cats of course, as if you had to ask. Black ones. Though they also count as people you know.
Feast Day: The 4th Friday of June
Weapon: Glock Nine Millimeter with Silencer, natch. Though these things only get used when something gone terribly wrong.

Not unexpected

Threes

Three things are pervasive
That all is not as it seems
That a favour is it’s own reward
And a brand new LJ meme.

Amusing random thought of the day.

“Actually, an old, fat Elvis porn flick could be amusing. They could play bad jazzy instrumental versions of his songs during the sex scenes, and after the money shot, he could pat the girl on the ass and say ‘uh, thank yew. thank yew verra much.'”

Random musing

First of all, happy birthday to the sublime catsittingstill on her natal anniversary. I’m still entirely convinced that Cat is not strictly human, but somehow a Tolkien elf who never passed into the West, but at any rate, we’re damn glad to have her around.

I adore Mark Morford. Sometimes he goes a bit over the top, but i love the sensibility that anchors his work. I especially liked column today. I could have written the following about myself:

“I don’t watch NASCAR or “WWE Raw” or “The Man Show.” I don’t read a lot of Maxim or ESPN Magazine or Sporting News nor frequent Gold’s Gym with a cadre of thick muscled dudes named Rick or Tony who stand over me and spot my bench presses with a lot of c’mon dude you can do it pump one more rep yeah yeah yeah, just before we all high five and go out for pizza and beer and talk about SportsCenter and the crazy shopping habits/frustrating fellatio inhibitions of our wives.

I do not spend endless hours of every weekend out in the garage rebuilding my rusty old ’67 ‘Stang. I do not grill giant slabs of beef ribs on the Weber every night. I do not reshingle the house or wear khaki Dockers or pound pitchers of Bud Light at O’Shaunessey’s during the Final Four. Maybe I should. But I don’t.

In fact, I engage in few stereotypical manly guy things largely because I live in the City and enjoy a wickedly urban and decidedly lubricious lifestyle, and tend to find many traditionally “guy” activities to be sort of unfulfilling and uninteresting and occasionally sort of dorky and faux macho and sadly devoid of divine sensuality and intellectual mystery and really good booze. But whatever. That’s just me.”

The truth is, I’ve never been entirely comfortable with “guy things”. Most of my close personal friends are female. I enjoy “chick flicks”. I cry over sentimental things. I find most of the concerns of the “average male” to be banal. I often wonder if there wasn’t some sort of mixup in the Souls Routing department, and somewhere out there is a very tomboyish girl who enjoys auto repair and football who was supposed to end up in this body. Something to think over.

Dayna is definitely feeling much better this morning, and back to her old friendly self. And I got a voice mail from the vet on her blood work from last week, confirming that she’s negative for FIV and feline leukemia. This doesn’t remotely surprise me, since she’s never been outside a day in her life, but it’s still reassuring to know her health is in top shape.

Rejoined the Columbia House DVD club for another set of nearly free DVDs (seven for the price of two, essentially). Picked up Willy Wonka And the Chocolate Factory, Harold and Maude, Sense and Sensibility, The Englisman Who Went Up A Hill But Came Down a Mountain, Schoolhouse Rock, Forrest Gump, and the amusing Mel Gibson/Helen Hunt film What Women Want. Also picked up the Matthew Broderick remake of The Music Man, because, let’s face it, I’m curious. It takes a lot of guts to step into a part that is so firmly and universally associated with one actor, in this case the late, great Robert Preston. I admit that Harold Hill is a part I’ve always wanted to do on stage myself. And of course, I got Pirates of the Caribbean because it rocks and stuff.

We didn’t actually watch any of these last night, opting for The Daily Show and the last part of the sex in the 20th century documentary that was stacked up on the TiVo. TiVo good. I like the TiVo.

Almost no one wants to ask me questions? The poll is still open!

Half Empty Heart

I should stress, right from the start, that this poem is not autobiographical. Or at least it isn’t *recently* autobiographical. I wrote it a couple of months ago after reading something in someone else’s journal. So please don’t worry, kitanzi and I are doing just fine. 🙂

Everyone else is doing it!

Getting the cat repaired

As I mentioned in a previous post, our kitty Dayna had never gotten spayed for some reason in the first five years of her life. (This is, I must confess, partially my fault for not insisting on it being a high priority in the budget back *before* K. and I split up, but anyway…) So this morning, I took her down to the Cat Clinic to be repaired.

They called me at about 3pm to tell me that she was awake and alert and doing well, and could come home after 5pm. So I went down to get her and bring her home. She spent most of the time between then and now sulking in the bedroom closet, but she’s come out to grouchily inform us that she’s not at all pleased with the state of the world or her place in it.

But once she heals up, I think she’ll be much happier. She was so miserable, poor dear. And we will certainly sleep better at night without the caterwauling cries for a man, any man, to come and satisfy her need! 🙂

Weekends are for….backbreaking labour :)

Although kitanzi had the day after Thanksgiving off, I had to work, so I did.

Saturday, we went back over to deidrecorwyn‘s for the last phase of moving. I had told her that if she could get a truck reserved for the day, I’d pay for it, so that we could do the move in one shift rather than making a lot of trips in cars. This turned out to be a really good idea, since we pretty well used up the space of a 14’ U-Haul.

This last round was almost entirely boxes, since we’d gotten most of the furniture on the first two days. Left behind was a bit of flotsem and jetsem for deidrecorwyn to deal with on Sunday, but she should be in good shape for getting out of the apartment by her deadline. (I hope.)

We finished getting everything unloaded at the new place; I spent most of that time getting her computer set back up and online. The phone company had screwed up the order to transfer the phone, but managed to correct it within a couple of hours, so I was able to verify that the computer was working and the modem able to get connected before we left.

We left deidrecorwyn, Stuart, and TeriS at about 5:30pm and headed down to Decatur for another Screen Door concert at Eddie’s Attic. I really love those guys, and they were especially tight tonight. They did a number of new songs, including one I *really* liked that Ben wrote for his wife called “We’ve Got A Life Here” that I want to get the lyrics for.

When the concert was over, we dropped by The Book Nook, Atlanta’s largest used bookstore (at least ever since the wonderful Oxford Too went under over 10 years ago *sigh*). It was quite a good haul — I found about 40 Doctor Who paperbacks (I’ve been trying to rebuild my Target novelization collection) that I didn’t have, plus 5 of the first 6 Simon Hawke Timewars books and a handful of Heinleins that we didn’t have. All in all, a good time, if a bit expensive. Oh well, after all the work we did this week, we deserved it!

Sunday was a quiet day spent doing very little, ending on a very fun note: kitanzi had never seen the Mel Brooks classic “The Producers”>, which I recently acquired on DVD. So we watched it and had a grand time with Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom and their sure-to-be-doomed play, “Springtime For Hitler”. 🙂

All in all, a weekend of accomplishments! Go us!

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