Best Misunderstanding Ever

Before sharing this misunderstanding with you, you should know that this weekend has been sprinkled with conversations involving many aspects of serious relationships. It isn't, and hasn't been for some time, a scary or foreign concept that we intend to stay together and eventually get married at some point.

Some time this evening I thought of a question I wanted to ask Mike, and while we were making dinner, I walked over to him and asked, somewhat pointedly:

"Do you want me to take your name?"

His eyes kind of got big and he looked a little flustered, so I attempted to ease the tension with, "I'm just curious, this isn't a loaded question. I'm just wondering what your opinion is."

There was an obvious moment of realization before he said (here comes the post title):

"Oh, I thought you were having a teacher-student fetish moment."

Because I had originally intended the question to deal with taking last names (or not) as a tradition of marriage, it took me a second to understand his statement, after which I (seriously) collapsed in laughter on the floor of the hallway. After giggling in the fetal position for ten seconds or so, I composed myself (somewhat) and Mike said, "You said it in such a disciplinarian way, I just wasn't sure what was going on." Awesome.

Lost List

I am about 95% certain that I started a list some time ago titled:

Things I'll Never Do Again But They Were Fun the First Time

But now I can't find the list anywhere on my computer, or in drafted emails or in drafted blog posts. I think I've exhausted my searching options. I bring up this list now because I want to add something to it:

-Lying about my age to get into an R-rated movie (I think I was 15 at the time, and we saw Final Destination)

What else is on the list?

-Get involved with a guy who had a girlfriend (I have no excuses for this one)
-Carry on a secret (at the time) friends-with-benefits relationship
-Crowdsurf (I have very little desire to be groped by strangers / Probably isn't good for my knee)

I'll add more as I remember/do stuff.

Unrelated: I heard "Sorrow" by Bad Religion on the radio today and my whole body tingled just like it always does when I hear that song. I think it's been at least a year since I heard it.

Semi-Modern Technology: Acquired!

Big News: We got a dishwasher. It's portable. It was free. And, the most important part: IT WORKS.

Isn't that neat?

We actually got it a few days ago, but today Mike went to Home Depot and bought an adapter so the hose would fit on the kitchen faucet, so today is the first day it deserves a mention.

Prior to the genius "Let's get an adapter" idea were many bouts of HOLDING THE HOSE CONNECTOR ON THE FAUCET and subsequently getting sprayed in the face once the pressure built up higher than our hand muscles could withstand.

Thank you, metal adapter piece, for saving us from perpetual face sprayings.

Bonus for test-running the washer with soap: It cleaned itself. Woot for laziness.

After proving its worth, the dishwasher was all steamy and ready for the real challenge: Washing dishes.

Mike: "Welcome to Part One of We're Going to do a Fuckton of Dishes."

Because we hadn't done dishes in, what, five days? Or at least we hadn't done enough dishes to significantly affect the appearance of the kitchen counter space. But now? Now? We're doing dishes. Right now, as we sit at our respective computers, we're doing dishes. And that, my friends, feels pretty damn good.

Personal Space

A few things:

First, here's a link to a post written by this guy who started following me on Twitter for his class...or something. There's a slightly douchebag-ish comment made by me on there since he touched the holy grail of things: my academic performance. But I don't think I was mean-spirited. And with the way I've been writing these days, hell, I feel like a slacker, so why wouldn't the world think I was, too? I have no idea who this guy is, so it was neat to read a review/write-up of myself written by someone I don't know. Honest analysis is healthy.

Second, Mike just got up from his desk chair, turned to go to the kitchen, then saw his glass of tea on the nightstand. "Oh yeah, I have tea!" he exclaimed. "I was just thinking, 'Man, I want some tea,' and there it was! *a pause* I'm going to have fun losing my mind later in life."

Third, Ellie (the social kitty) was sitting on Mike's lap, and he was hugging her, or trying to hug her like people hug each other (arms over shoulders), but the cat was having none of it...

me: "Ellie doesn't understand hugs."
Mike: "Yeah, she's like 'Personal space is nice.'"

Mike put Ellie onto the bed, and she seemed pleased. He rolled his desk chair over to my desk, and I landed in the Innuendo Gutter with this shiny line:

"I like having you in my personal space."

But I totally meant it innocently, like a hug. Really! I did. Well, I did.

Fourth, find the cute pictures below of Ceri, who has decided to be a little more social.

Holy cwap it's one in the morning gotta get some sleep, goodnight!

Grading policies like this make me want to do even less work

I deserved a failing grade on the homework assignment, but I really hate grading that goes like this:

Here's seventeen problems for you to do. We're only going to grade four of them, so if you don't know how to do those four, even if you do the other thirteen decently well, you get absolutely no credit for this assignment.

It's not that I don't think I should do all the work. Although, I'll admit if I knew the ones they were going to grade, I'd only do those and turn them in. But why would I work more problems in a neat-and-tidy fashion if they were worth zero points? I don't understand the purpose behind assigning problems and giving no credit for completion if not all of the problems are to be "graded" in the traditional sense.

*sigh* Whatever, I think I'll average out to mediocre at the end of the course.

Now, onto my education course which I feel is the most useless hour and a half of my week...

On independence and videogame character infatuation

I just noticed the "quote of the day" on my Gmail text ad bar above my inbox:

"We are the hero of our own story." -Mary McCarthy

This type of quote makes me feel shitty because I read it and think "Wow, this story really sucks so far then, because I'm definitely not a hero." And I don't even mean that in an emo way at all. I'm quite possibly the happiest I've ever been in life, and yet surprisingly, along with all that happiness has come a weird wave of apathy and self-loving laziness.

See, even now when I'm typing this, I should be reading chemistry. And the chemistry is interesting (albeit this specific section I'm reading is not my type of thing (enantiomeric separation)). But I just want to have fun, and I haven't gotten the message yet that I can have fun if I just get all my work done first. Procrastination is a terrible thing, and yet I've made it my best friend for the past three weeks or so. Bad me.

This whole living on my own thing definitely makes me feel powerful. I don't know how else to say it. I just feel like a fucking badass now that I not only have a paycheck, but a lot of that paycheck disappears every month due to rent and other expenses. Independence is crazy awesome like that I guess. Typing this makes me feel like I used to be such a child. And now I guess I'm some wacky teenager who can finally drive the family van (hopefully you followed the analogy here).

Despite the power-inducing awesomeness, there's a good deal of fear permeating my daily life. And I don't just mean my most common thought while walking solo: Please don't run me over, car. I mean if I fuck up, if I fuck up any of this whole great deal I've got going on here, it's all on me. There's no finger pointing. There's no "So and so said she'd help me and didn't" or "I missed my bus" or "I was late for my presentation because the cat threw up on my face this morning." Each day is a slightly-diminishing-in-volume wake up call that while I enjoy having this huge buffer of nothingness between me and the higher authority (in this case, I guess it's the IRS or something), that nothingness just can't wait to swallow me up with the countless other mistake-makers that somehow fuck up along the way. Wow, that got way too deep way too quickly.

So, just as I finished that last sentence, Mike wanted to show me the progress he'd made on his papasan chair cushion. I could take time to explain that sentence, but now isn't the right time. I turned to see the cushion cover he'd been sewing and when he put the cover back down, he smiled as I noticed what he'd done with some scrap material. He'd made a little pointy hat out of the material. It was green material. So...right about now most of you who know me should be giggling a bit as you imagine this boy I like wearing this green hat. Just like I was giggling. And then I had to be all "take it off take it off" and of course he said "what, my shirt?" but then he guessed correctly with an awkward question of, "Is this some kind of Link fetish?" and my giggles just couldn't lie. So thankfully he took the hat thing off so I could actually get some work done tonight. Yea! Good times.

A New Addition

Today, after a few weeks of searching online for a new cat for our home, Mike and I drove to a shelter to check out some kitties in person. We originally went to this specific shelter to look at a purebred Bengal cat that they had, but after finding out that the Bengal had been returned from his previous adopter because of spraying and not getting along with the other cat, we decided against adopting him. He was pretty, but we wanted a cat that would play nice with Ellie.

We looked at the kittens and young cats that they had, and some of them were so adorable, it was hard to leave the kitten room without falling for those cuties. There was one white flame point with big blue eyes that really had our attention, as well as a somewhat rambunctious part Abyssinian young cat. *sigh* So cute. We then went over to the older cat room, which was much calmer compared to the kitten room. There were six older cats, but we didn't even seen one of them when we first looked because she was hiding in a little kitty condo. Luckily, even though that one wasn't out with the rest of the cats, she peered out at me with big green eyes despite her timidness.

I was hooked.

It's hard to be hooked on a cat you don't even know, and I just wanted her to come out so I could make sure she was nice (but timid) instead of mean (but timid). After a lot of sweet talking, chin scratching, and general coaxing, she inched out of the kitty condo a couple times to let me pet her. She was so soft and pretty, but I barely got a good look at her because she kept darting back into her hiding place. The shelter worker who was helping us said the cat hadn't been there long enough to adjust to the place yet.

Another older cat seemed very friendly and sweet, but there was just something odd about her. It was her face. I know that's mean, but even though her eyes had a nice color, the way they actually looked, and her face as mentioned before, were just kinda funny lookin'. But we considered her since she was sweet and affectionate.

After a couple small discussions, and our luck of coaxing the shy one out of her hiding place several more times, we went with the shy kitty, who turned out to be about five years old (the people who brought her in guessed her age). The shelter worker microchipped her and we signed some papers and took her home.

On the way home, the cat meowed a lot in her carry-box despite our attempts to explain "but you're going to a nice place, we promise, it'll be a good time really soon."

Also on the way home, we named her: Cerium
(SEAR-ree-um) (Ceri for short)

Yes, after the element. Because we're nerds. We'd almost agreed that if we got a male cat, his name was going to be Schrödinger. But that wasn't a good girl-cat name. We rattled through a lot of other elements, scientists, and units before getting to Cerium, but when Mike heard that idea, it stuck (finally).

When we got home, we found that Ellie was still getting healthier, and she now has a seemingly normally functioning digestive system (yay, no more enemas). Not surprisingly, she now also has an appetite. Yay.

Ellie hissed at Cerium when she saw her, and Cerium hid behind the water heater (dammit) at least until we coaxed her out from behind it a few hours later (and blocked off the water heater from entry), and then she hid in her makeshift box-bed as seen below, and is probably now hiding behind the toilet. She's such a sweetie. She's still really timid and scared of being somewhere new, but she likes both of us a whole lot, and is slowly becoming more curious about the apartment. Here are some pictures to reward you for making it through this big post:

It's been too long: Photoblog!

Oddly enough, only one of these pictures was taken after I wrote on here about wanting to take more pictures. I forgot I had some on my memory stick that I just hadn't edited.

I'll start with the one that needs the most explanation. Mike got this peach tree for free (yep) from a guy across town and had to re-pot it because the tree had gotten so huge it had grown through the orignal pot. Into the ground. Yeah. Frickin' twelve foot tall, four inch trunk diameter tree in a two gallon pot. So Mike got a bigger pot for it and it's doing a little better despite the transplant (pun). A couple days late he spotted an ad on Craigslist for 55 gallon plastic barrels. "Ooh, I should re-pot the tree into that!" he exclaimed. There was a short conversation about how difficult it would be to transport the tree* if we were to move to another apartment next year, and after a couple hare-brained ideas and a few more chuckles, I drew this picture to give you an idea of the scenario we envisioned:


So that was fun. At least I gave Mike a cool helmet, right? Onto the other pics:

I didn't even realize the hilarity of this store name until just now when I was editing the photo. Originally I wondered why there would be an Alabama chicken restaurant here in California...as if California couldn't do chicken in all kinds of delicious ways. But maybe Alabama has great chicken, I dunno. Then the word HICK popped out at me and I sat there laughing at my laptop screen for a minute wondering how I missed that when I took the photo.


Hey Bonnie I saw this travel agency here and I think you should come work at it. Not that it'd be a great job but I'd get to see you and you'd get to live here in this awesomeness. *wink* Well, those things are kind of unrealistic, but I saw it and thought of you. And now the world knows it.


I got startled one night just before we were asleep by some noise outside. The answer to the noise? A big ass raccoon. Chowing down on an egg and other refuse.


Say cheese little bandit!


That's all I've got for now. Other pictures to come sometime soon. Have a good night!

_______
*Transporting the tree in true Alabama style would require a pickup truck. Alas, the bike and dolly idea is the best we can do.

Cats, Food, Poo: We've got it all

This is a story about Ellie. She is perhaps the sweetest kitty in the world.


Ever since Ellie arrived here with Mike, she didn't really eat enough food. She'd have a little food here and there, but not enough to really keep her healthy. We thought it was because her food had gotten stale, so we bought her some different new tasty awesome food.

She ate some, and we thought she was in the clear.

Ha.

Hardly.

She tired of that food very quickly (less than a day) and didn't even seem enthused when we provided her with canned tuna. We tried popping kitty food nuggets into her mouth, but that was met with some resistance, to say the least. At some point, she started throwing up some foamy stuff and it was looking grim.

After some delay, to the vet she went. Oh, that was definitely a joy for her.

We got some medicine to give her. She didn't keep it down. Still wasn't eating. Back to the vet again.

She was so dehydrated that they kept her overnight to give her constant fluids. The poor thing was so sad looking, I teared up in the waiting room when we were getting instructions from the vet just before we left. She didn't understand why all this bad stuff was happening, and was so scared to be in her carrier. She clawed the metal cage door and whined despite our attempts to comfort her. I was so sad, so worried for her.

Then came what Mike and I dubbed "Happy Fun Times."

For irony's sake.

The vet's instructions boiled down to: "She needs to eat," so we set our sights on filling her tummy. We had some soft food, a plastic syringe, and a big towel to wrap up Ellie. Each time we'd carry Ellie to the kitchen to feed her, Mike would say, "It's Happy Fun Time!" While she hated the feeding times, she didn't get too wild until after a few feedings. We figured this was because we'd supplied her with the energy to fight back. A vicious cycle, if I do say so, since her will was to avoid eating, so we give her strength, and she more fiercely tries to avoid food. *sigh*

At some point her strength got the best of both of us, and after she clawed Mike's back, and sliced open my pointer finger, it was time for more personal protection. Wearing a pair of jeans on my arms (waist first, arms through the legs), I could restrain poor Ellie much more efficiently.

But even after a few days of home feeding, something became apparent -- nothing solid was coming out her other end.

And it made sense why she didn't want to eat. Who would want to eat when their digestive system wasn't working properly?

While we sympathized with her, we weren't sure what to do about her situation. Many Google searches were made that I never thought I'd make in life, but at the end of a couple day's searching, contemplating, and discussing, we made the decision.

Don't worry, there aren't intimate details...

Suffice to say that giving a cat an enema is quite an experience...one that I hope you don't have.

It really wasn't terrible, though, and there wasn't a mess. She's a clean kitty.

But there was "a cat shit that was so big it could have taken a shit of its own." (quoting Mike)

And now she's hiding in the apartment somewhere pouting. And who could blame her?

I don't know if this is the end of sweet little Ellie's story, but it's at least good middle. And hopefully her middle (and end?) is better as well.

Trivia Time

Current unrelated things...

Small life joy: Confusing people with my way-the-heck-far-away cell phone area code when I call Craigslisters. I love when they ask where I am just to verify that I'm aware of what region of the country I'm calling.

A disappointment: The last time I gave blood was last September. Longest donation dry spell since I started giving in junior year of high school. Highest rate of illness for any 12-month period in life? Likely.

What's bothering me: I have a gym membership but haven't made time to go yet.

Small challenge: Balancing being comfortable cohabiting while still retaining a sense of allure and attractiveness.

A fear: That I'm the dumbest person of my first-year class here. Related: ...or perhaps the least motivated.

Possible weekend perk: Finding out if ESPN360 works when using the campus wireless network connection.

New favorite cereal: "Eating Right" Honey glazed bran flakes w/ cranberries and almonds.

Need: More photography.

Something unexpected: Mike has an insanely good memory for things I tell him. For now, I'm treating it as a good thing. (Remembering > Forgetting)

For a quick pick-me-up: Looking at photos from Clemson times and/or other locations involving Paul and David and others who are awesome.

Google inches toward world domination

Deeply entrenched with add-ons that make my browsing experience both personalized and more efficient, I'm wary of this new Google browser.

Are you going to try it? I'm scared I'll like it more than Firefox, but for now, the Mozilla Labs team still has my browser-heart.

<3 TwitterFox, LittleFox, and ForecastFox

Today's lesson: Honk with care

Yesterday Mike found an ad on Craigslist for a dresser about three miles away on the side of the road. After successfully finding the address and the dresser (yea!), we were driving back home when we saw a pedestrian crossing at the next intersection. It was the sort of crossing that was on the far sidewalk of the intersection, the middle needed to stay clear for the cross traffic, so Mike slowed down to wait for the pedestrian to cross without edging into the perpendicular road.

We had just barely braked when we hear

HONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNK

from the car behind us. Um, okay, so apparently barreling over a civilian is perfectly acceptable as long as we don't hinder that car's progress on its journey. Needless to say, we didn't change our course of action to suit the impatient car. I think it became obvious to the car behind us that there was a pedestrian when the person finished crossing the street up ahead and was in plain view of the honker.

The impatience was startling, but we were more amused that after the incident, the car hung back a good ways from Mike's car as we continued on the same road. And! When the road turned into a four-lane (two per side), the car should have been driving even with us but hung back so it didn't have to come up beside us.

LOL Shame. I love it.

Three stoplights and the car hung back out of our view with obviously too much room between them and the car in front of them. Silly girls. They gunned ahead at another intersection so they wouldn't have to face us.

Happy Labor Day!