Okay, this post is going to be extra super short.
Firstly, I am fully committed to my new YouTube channel which now has three videos in my "Rules of Life" series!
Secondly, I broke 1000 page views yesterday! Mostly thanks to my wonderful mother and her magical powers of Tweeting. Never mind that she is the number one sex blogger in St. Louis and thus has many, many followers. (About 10% of them hit me up yesterday!)
Thirdly, I also broke 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo early this morning, (around 12:06 AM)!!!!!
I am feeling so incredibly accomplished right now. Like I am bathed in sunshiny glory. Even though it is dark outside and the only light in my apartment is coming from my Mac.
Still, I am feeling like a freaking king.
Here is a link to my YouTube channel!
Watch and enjoy my videotaped neuroticism!
And I also wanted to show this off!
My Impressive Badge!!!
My kitty, who I love, is an evil little monster. Not because she is actually an evil cat like I think most cats are, but she did bring evil into my studio. I don't mean she brought in a ghost, or bad karma, (taking her in from the harsh wilderness probably gave me good karma...). No... the evil little monster brought in worms.
Now I know animals are always licking their asses, but when she started licking her her ass like every ten minutes, I was a little grossed out.
"Cat," I said, even though she has a real name, "What are you doing with your butt?"
And she turned around to look at me like, I don't know! What am I doing with my butt?
"Cat!" I yelped at her, noticing something white and wiggly in her mouth. "What the hell is that!"
I don't know, human food bringer! What is it! She looked positively alarmed.
"Spit it out!" I squealed, jumping up on my bed as she padded towards me.
I can't! She telepathed, It is something good to eat!
And she slurped it into her little triangular head like a piece of spaghetti. Only it wasn't spaghetti; and it certainly wasn't like the iconic scene from "Lady and the Tramp."
I grabbed my phone and called the Humane Society, asking for an appointment to get her dewormed for the second time.
"Well," the lady on the phone said, "You can just bring in her stool and we can test it if you think she has worms."
"Uh... she has worms," I deadpanned. "She just slurped one up like a wiggling spaghetti noodle."
"Oh... well you still need to bring in the stool so that we can make sure you get the right dewormer."
"I can't just get an all-around kills-everything dewormer?" I felt panicked thinking about her belly all gross and distended and packed full of creepy-crawly-wigglers.
"Nope." I think at that point I stared angrily at my phone. Damned cat. I put down some fresh food for the cat, knowing she liked to eat and then poop. I watched her like a hawk, and she looked worried.
Finally, after an hour, she went and made a stinking gross poop that I scooped into a ziplock bag. I pulled on my shoes and left for the Humane Society and handed them the bag for "testing."
After going to school and coming back home, I waited by the phone for a call saying I could pick up her dewormer. The next morning at around eight, I got the blessed call. They were giving me two syringes full of yellow, banana smelling dewormer. I drove back into the city to pick it up, paid the nineteen dollars, and came home.
I coaxed the kitty to hop up in the counter with some tasty treats.
"Good kitty," I said, scratching under her chin like she likes. She did a full happy stretch up, and I pried her mouth open, shooting the yellow goop at the back of her throat and clamping her jaws shut. "Swallow it!" I growled, not allowing her to spit it out at like she did at the vet's office. She finally did, and then scampered off the counter and under the futon.
She tried to get back in my good graces, but I was still grossed out by her. When she tried brushing up against my legs I scooted around her like a poisonous cobra. I vacuumed everywhere, and scared her away from my bed. By the second week, I was slowly warming up to the little infested creature, petting her but constantly washing my hands, and almost every surface she touched. The litter box was cleaned almost as soon as she used it.
I patiently waited the two weeks until I could inoculate her again, and by that time I had won back her trust fully. I told her to get on the counter again, which had been scrubbed with bleach water and lysol almost every day. She looked so happy until I shot more banana goo in her mouth.
She didn't scamper off under the futon the second time though, instead giving me a mean look as she sauntered past the washing machine.
"Don't go eating dead things full of worms, you ninny," I said, trying to explain how disgusting that was.
I can't help myself, she seemed to say, flicking her tail at me.
Well, at least it was too cold for her to want to go outside for a while. She couldn't get worms if I kept her away from all the dead animals and fed her non-wormy food. I would be okay for a least a season.
So, I went to Shesha's Halloween party on Wednesday night. And I was looking pretty damn fine if I do say so myself. Because I was. Mom had lent me one of her lace up corsets, that Ambria laced very tight, and this double skirt tutu. I also donned a wonderful little ballerina bun. So, yeah I pretty much thought I was looking pretty damn hot.
I guess it shouldn't have come as a surprise that I was hit on. But considering that it was a lot of people I work with, I was mostly laughing of their obvious flirting. It's not too hard to brush off guys I have known for years.
I had brought with me Ambria, Darrious and Paris. But because Darrious and Paris needed to catch the train, I had to leave halfway through the party and come back later.
So when I went and dropped them off, and then came back about a half hour later, the party went from people I mostly knew to a hell of a lot of people I most certainly didn't know. Everyone was still cool. And while there was the half of the party that was getting really high, and the other half was getting really drunk, I was the designated driver, and thus only had a few drinks, that in the end didn't even give me a buzz.
I ended up doing a lot of people watching. BBJ (Big Booty Judy) got really upset twice while I was there. Honestly, the first time I had no idea what was wrong with her. She just ended up in a bedroom crying and saying incoherent things. The second time was because Brian who we work with, ended up making out with one of her friends that she had brought along. I guess the second crying fest was more logical to me, except that she is most definitely not going out with Brian, so... I don't know what the big deal was.
Chrys brought a bunch of his gay friends, or as Shesha said, "The whole gay community," and that made a lot of people who were uncomfortable around gay people leave. Of course, I was like, "HI! You won't hit on me, so we are totes chill." It's why I have a lot of gay guy friends.
Nick, who I also work with, puked all over the kitchen, and I saw the whole thing. I even giggled because I have never gotten sick and puked all over like that. For that I am proud.
At some point after Nick's puking episode and before BBJ had her crying fit, this asian dude dress as Psy started talking to Ambria and I. I may have mentioned this before, but I am not good at talking to new people. Like genetically, I am not predispositioned to do well at parties sober.
Ambria did all the talking basically, because she is a beast and can make friends with anyone or anything. I smile and added to conversations where I thought I was needed, but there were plenty of just awkward silences. He offered to take us to the diner up the road, and I was like, "Ah ha ha, no, we can't."
He didn't seem to understand. "We have school in the morning, you know."
"Oh, I graduated like 6 years ago."
"From... college?" I asked. I had no idea how old he was.
Apparently he was 31. I was like, "Oh, we graduated high school like two and a half years ago. Dub ten." I thought that would deter him.
Nope. As the clock rolls around to two AM, his asks me for my number. And on one hand, I am flattered. But I don't need a fancyman. Sorry, but I am fancy enough as is.
Of course, I was thrown through such a loop that I didn't know what to do but program a number into his phone.
And then Ambria and I practically ran out of there, so when he called the number he wouldn't be able to catch me and say, "Oh you put it in wrong."
Maybe I am a horrible person, but... He didn't give me a chance! I am too polite.
As I have written about before in Sid the Sloth, my dad and Sharon got a new puppy.
My car has been trying to kill me for a long time. It does this thing where it jerks into not shifting gears, and often this occurs on the highway, or while I am driving on crowded streets. It is quite dangerous, and because of all the jerking my car has been doing, I got a crack in my radiator that turned into a split. I needed to get my car fixed, and seeing as the car shop is farther away from my dad's house than walking, I have to have a ride back home.
So I went to my dad's house on Monday afternoon with all the intentions of getting my car to shop, having dinner with my dad and Sharon, and spending the night so I could get my car the next day.
Instead I went to the doggy hospital.
Sid had that morning gotten into slug poison. He didn't eat a copious amount of it, mostly because he is ridiculously finicky, and instead probably swallowed some pellets by accident. That small amount was enough to cause widespread effects across his systems. Six hours after he had digested the tiny amount of slug killer, he was a slobbering, shaking, confused mess. Basically it was really scary.
My dad at first thought he had peed all over himself, and blamed me for the mess since I was "too lazy to let him out." In reality, he looked tired when I had gotten upstairs, and since he didn't immediately ask to be let out I figured he didn't have to pee. Instead I went and made popcorn and waited for dad to get home, which upon his arrival, it was made obvious that Sid was anything but tired.
When we realized that he needed to be taken to the doggy hospital, dad pulled him out of the kennel and carried him downstairs. I followed with dad's wallet and keys, helped him get into the truck, and we went to Petsmart which was also the vet's office. Sid was immediately admitted, and Dad and I were left waiting in Room 2.
The vets gave him IV fluids trying to rehydrate him, and then had to also administer Diazepam because he had a seizure. It was almost a half hour before the vet came to talk to us. She explained that slug poison was basically the deadliest stuff a dog could get into. Not only did it severely dry the dogs out, but the slug poison also had a second component to it that attacked the nervous systems of slugs, and consequently, dogs. So basically Sid's little puppy systems were shutting down because the big system, the nervous system, wasn't really in control anymore.
And Sid having a seizure was a bad sign. The vet told us his chances weren't good.
We had to transport him to a different vet clinic, because the Petsmart there wasn't an overnight clinic. So we loaded him back into the truck, now wrapped in a blanket, and drove to the emergency vet clinic. When we finally got there, (after I got us lost...) we passed him off to the new vets, and waited in yet another room marked with a 3.
It was a little while before the new vet came in to give us a very dire diagnosis. Basically he had a fifty/fifty chance. And even after he got better from the initial effects of the slug poison, he might not be the same. She told us he could be temporarily blind, suffer from seizures the rest of his life, and/or not have the same brain function or liver function. It was really upsetting to think that our ten month old puppy might not wake up tomorrow.
With heavy hearts, and a signed paper of DO NOT RESUSCITATE, we left the emergency clinic and went home.
Sharon was pretty freaked out and called the clinic every two hours the whole night. Every call ended with Sid having relatively no change. It was of course a good sign he wasn't getting worse, but really we wanted to hear he was getting better.
Finally around six in the morning we got the good news that he was on the mend. The slug poison had passed through his system, and we got the go ahead to pick him up around four that afternoon.
I was super relieved, and happy. Not only because Sid was going to be fine, (at least until his liver tests came back), and he didn't seem to be blind in any capacity.
My dog Dash was also happy to see his little brother come home. The whole night before, he moped about like Sid was really dead, and I could see how he just became a younnger dog when Sid made it home and was not in fact dead. And even though Sid wasn't 100% yet, he eventually did bounce back.
A few days later, he came back with excellent liver tests results. We were home free! Sid was a healthy dog.
He apparently didn't learn any lessons though because a few days later, he chewed an air conditioner hose.
I went to visit my cousin last week and to actually see the tiny human he created. I will say that I have baby sat a lot of babies, but they are usually a few months older than a fresh two week old baby. So I was disappointed when Greyson basically bored me to tears.
Now, I say he bored me to tears, and it is a bit of an exaggeration. My eye problems are still persisting, and thus I can not actually cry because they are so dry. That being said, I had no idea how boring babies could actually be. I mean, he seriously just sat there in his baby house not doing anything.
He fell asleep.
He woke up.
He cried.
He got fed.
He went back to sleep.
Honestly, I wonder how babies make it past baby-dom. I mean, they are so incredibly boring. You can't do anything with a baby that age. They have to be held a certain way, fed a certain amount, changed almost every hour...
I have concluded that puppies are in fact WAY cooler than babies. Not only are they relatively self sufficient, (they play with their own paws, lick their own butts, and can walk around), they are way more amusing. Honestly, if a puppy falls of the couch, people laugh. But if your baby falls off a couch, you are gonna have to talk to Child Protective Services.
Pro: Puppies are way less breakable.
Puppies can eat practically anything. Shoes, hats, pillowcases, dog food, cat food, hamster food. Babies have a very specific diet. Milk or formula for a long-ass time, and then maybe mushy foods, then maybe not so mushy foods, and then maybe even less mushy foods... you get my point.
Pro: Puppies don't need mushy food.
You don't have to change a puppies diaper. You just put him outside, he goes potty, then you can rough house with him. You can't put a baby outside, then play tug with him. That is a BIG no-no.
Pro: Puppies are way more fun.
My final point, (for the discussion as such) is that you don't have to buy little clothes for a puppy. Babies need loads of clothes, that have a tendency to ruin at any given moment. Babies can suddenly explode with poop for no reason other than he just decides to poop as much as he possibly can, even if his diaper can't contain such an explosion. Puppies don't need clothes! They are covered in soft, fluffy fur that is totally washable. You can't go hose your baby off with a hose in the backyard, but puppies are free game. Played in the mud? Hose. Rolled in a dead thing? Hose. Pooped all over your cage, ate said poop, then vomited all over yourself? HOSE!
Pro: Puppies are easy to clean.
In conclusion, in the Puppy vs. Baby debate, puppies clearly win. So for anyone out there thinking they want a baby to play with, the obvious choice is to get a puppy instead. Babies are no fun, have a self-destruct button on their heads, can't play tug, and have no use for hoses.
Honestly, was there even a chance babies would win anyways?
I am just gonna put it out there now: I am an Obama supporter.
That being said, I quite enjoyed this first debate. Both candidates were actually working to make their points, and I appreciated that. It wasn't like when McCain and Obama debated, nor was it the very boring debates between Kerry and Bush.
While I truly wished that there was some more time for Romney and Obama to duke it out some more, (seriously, can't we give them like an hour and half?) I did like watching how the two men went at things.
Firstly, I am a slow arguer, so I would normally like Obama's approach of thinking things over before answering. But in a timed debate, I definitely grew frustrated with how long he was taking. I know that in a perfect world, they should get time to think, but if you only have an hour, PLEASE get to the point/make a point! Romney was definitely quicker to bite, but on that same note, I felt like I wasn't getting as much information, or he was redirecting back to some other statement he made in the debate.
Secondly, can they stop with the smug smiles? Every time something was said that the other thought they could use in opposition of each other, they had to smile smugly. Boys! You are on camera! Keep a poker face!
Thirdly, please let the mediator, mediate! He is trying to keep you within your time slots. Romney was awful at this, always having to have the last word, and going way over his time slot. Obama certainly did it too, but come on! "No, wait, the President got to speak first, so I need to finish this." That is a bunch a bullshit. You guys aren't "finishing" anything. Nothing has been determined as the "right" way to run government. You are just letting the American people know what you are standing for and how you are different or similar to each other.
Lastly, I wish that there would be actual specifics made. Like on education, the energy crisis, the economy, healthcare, etc. I like tangibility.
I also have a side point, mostly on the economy part of the debate. Romney was complaining about Obama isn't working and that his "grand plan" of getting more jobs would equal more revenue for the government. While I agree that more people working would add an overall amount of money in taxes to government, one cannot simply employ 12 million people at the turn of a hat. If that was possible, then I think it would already have been done and implemented. But since obviously 12 million people have not been suddenly employed, I am pretty sure that Romney does not hold some magic card that will make that happen. Obama's plan, which definitely seems more coherent and thought out, won't fix the economy, but it will certainly help more than more spending on military and less taxes on the rich.
So while my mother would love it if I didn't waste my time blogging whilst at school, I thought this was definitely an appropriate thing to blog about.
Firstly, as with many colleges (universities and community colleges like mine), there are "Campus Events" that happen periodically for seemingly no reason at all. Today was Cancer Awareness Day. I don't know exactly what the day's events entail, especially since all of the fake lungs, hearts, stomaches, colins, bones and bags of blood are set up in the cafeteria, but I do know that I get free food for pretending to be interested.
Basically, students just had to walk around, talk to the people in scrubs, get a piece of paper signed, and BAM! Free food of the nacho chip (no nacho dip) and sandwich wrap variety.
This is all well and good, except that we are all walking around looking at blackened organs, diseased skin, large white masses of I-don't-know-what, huge blown up pictures of moles, and decrepit looking people in wheel chairs with oxygen nose tubes.
Definitely unappetizing.
And of course, the coup d'etat, a giant poster with a suave looking man saying, "Mind if I have a smoke?"
His lady-friend replies, "Mind if I just die?"
I think it is time to eat somewhere else than the plastic organ freak show happening in the main causeway of the cafeteria.
