little_tristan: (Kitten Simon's Cat)
♥ I slept last night.

♥ Mark called a few times from Portland and sounded okay. He liked the ambulance guys and they had a really interesting conversation on the long, long ride. Also, he could probably have survived a fall from a helicopter in that stretcher.

♥ Heather went and saw him really, really late so I got a secondary report. She said he was coughing and sleepy but okay, as of 10:30 pm PST.

♥ Digging through my treat box last night, I found a whole gram of some sweet forgotten bud. Don't know what I'd do without my evening atomizer treatment (except not eat or sleep.)

♥ A friend told me a secret that I'd been secretly hoping to hear.;)

♥ The nemesis, who is still my nemesis, let's not get all sentimental in these confusing times, but still, has promised to chip in on Mark's hospital bills.

♥ Der Kaiser, while fucking about in a most ridiculous manner about not giving me one of my meds, actually sent a bottle of narcotics that wasn't due for a refill for at least 2 weeks. Small gain which is based on their stupidity, but I have to take what's offing.

♥ Heather's coming to take me up to see Mark. I might have time to sneak in a tiny nap first.

♥ Yesterday I had a really good brownie. It was from one of Mark's meals but he didn't want it. Hospital food has come a long way.

♥ I just cut my really long fingernails while wearing a nightgown with crescent moons on it and now I can't find the clippings. That's just funny.

♥ A book I'm reading on my phone (The Blythes are Quoted) is not really a good book in most ways, but I'm enjoying it hugely.

♥ Pop up chat friend is making my scary lonely morning fun. *hugs*
little_tristan: (Kenny)
Yossel is harder to read than I expected. It's a what-if story by a man who missed the Holocaust by leaving Poland in 1926, the year of his birth, wondering what would have happened if he'd grown up in his Polish village. I don't think he's going to make it.

Murphy Sloane, otoh, is getting better. I didn't expect that. We thought he was failing due to age, and his appetite was falling off accordingly. Now that he's been getting Fancy Feast two and three times a day (basically whenever he asks--he doesn't take advantage), he's visibly plumper and less wobbly.

The only thing weirder than his willingness to starve himself for better food, is the incredible speed of his recovery. It's happened before but he's so old, we're always slow to catch on. The vet has told us it's normal at 14, 15, and now 17, but all he wanted was different food.

Maybe he really is immortal. *fingers crossed*

Mark ate and slept all day, too. He doesn't put on weight like Murphy, but his eyes get brighter. That's nice to see. And Russ bought him special food at the store so he'll eat more. He wanted something different, too. I wish Purina made a variety of People Chows. Dry for snacking and a dozen flavors of canned food to heat up and eat with bread. We could go for years on that. So long as there was still chocolate in the world.

I finished Yossel after starting this post. It made me cry. But I totally recommend it to Holocaust buffs (is that the right word?) and fans of great graphic novels. It would be worth owning for the Introduction alone, but I'd suggest that anyone who can bear the subject give it a read. If the dialog typeset looks familiar, Joe Kubert invented it. It's used in nearly every comic book I owned as a teenage collector.

Apparently he invented graphic novels, too. I'm not stupid. I've asked myself numerous times how much art and culture was lost with young Jews who never had a chance to develop their talents. But Joe Kubert nearly was one of them and Yossel forces you to see that in a way that almost can't be borne.

And all he did was draw comic books that changed comic books and their art forever.
little_tristan: (Hamster Spaghetti)
Heather was out yesterday with pretty flowers from her grandma's garden to take out to my parents. We also took some water and washed off their stone so I could take a picture, which is slated for the giant picspam to be. We also found a family plot that Cousin Oly told us about, for Grandma's parents and their other kids. It's about 50 feet from the plot I've been visiting all my life, yet I never knew it was there.

On the way out we stopped at the Fort Hill restaurant, about half a mile from where I used to live. The other businesses that used to be there are gone--the gas station, convenience store, video store--but the restaurant lives on. And the burgers are still un-fucking-believable. We forgot to get pie, though. That sucked. But we made up for it with a stop at Dairy Queen on the way back.

Somewhere during this journey, Heather told me about a conversation she'd recently had with her dad. Remember him? The guy from the county fair who alternated between hitting on me and bossing us around like he was an actual father or something? Well, I made a mistake that day. I mentioned some work that still needs doing around here and how Heather was going to get a crew together next month to do it. We plan to make it as fun as possible, pizza, beer, a little cash, for work that isn't too hard in good weather. He said he wanted to join in, and at first that seemed like a good idea. More hands and all. Then I saw how completely useless he was in even the least demanding situations and Heather promised not to tell him when the barn raising actually happens.

Apparently he didn't forget, though. He called her on Monday and said he'd love to come stay with me for a while and take care of all that stuff. Because I need another lazy alcoholic, this one with a fun dominance disorder, living in my house. I was horrified, but she'd already totally stepped in front of that bullet for me by telling him the yard work/fence building was really just a charity thing and no one was getting paid. He immediately remembered other important plans, maybe getting a job or actually breaking up with his psycho girlfriend, and backed out.

Life lessons are cool. If it hadn't been for Steve, I might've fallen for that.
little_tristan: (Riptide Murray Happy)
Well, not the whole day. I was working on household stuff this morning, and then went to continue my business by picking up prescriptions at Walgreens. On the way back, taking the same route, I spotted a really flashy cigarette box on the sidewalk and went "Ooh, shiny object!" Because it was. Camel is apparently angling hard for the lady market because it's black with hot pink edging. And they're called No. 9 100s. Love potion in cigarette form, anyone? Since smokers are like crack addicts who will smoke dead bugs if they're high enough, I snagged it (what? it couldn't have been there more than 15 minutes; it's not like that time I was seven and wanted to pick up a pack of gum off the ground but it was covered with ants) and giggled with joy to find only 3 missing. Sign of things to come.

I really was going to get back to work, but Homeless Steve (not to be confused with Dickless Steve) is back in town and was hanging out with some friends at the bank plaza. So I ended up staying for about three hours, sharing my lady-smokes and handing out spare lighters. One of the new guys, Frank, isn't actually new to the city. He used to live a couple blocks from us, but after a few trips to jail and a stint in the state pen, he seems to be in transition. I learned a lot from him about conditions in the prison (I'm all for punishment, but no a/c when it's 100 degrees out and 120 in does seem a little extreme) and can just feel my writer muscles expanding.

He's also a big reader of the kinds of books you find in such places, like James Patterson and Michael Crichton. He suggested I plant some of my books in detention centers because prisoners will read anything and if they like it they'll tell their friends on the outside. I've always wanted to do something for prisoners, it's one of Jesus's big five--along with clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, caring for the sick, and sheltering the homeless, but Mark's never allowed me to get involved. (Who can guess why? Show of hands. Yep, not a secret.) However, I already asked him and he thinks giving them books is just fine. So that's on for later in the week, when I have time to walk over to the jail. Also conveniently located in my neighborhood.

The other big event was running into Rob and his girlfriend, whom I met when they were playing music on the sidewalk a few weeks ago. This time he had his cat with him. It's a nice medium sized cat, like Murphy Sloane only younger and sturdier, with a shiny black coat. The cat was on a leash attached to a studded collar, and wearing a little harness with saddlebags resting on its shoulders so it could carry its own toys. Everyone pulls his own weight on the street. Rob carried the box of cat treats, though, and the cat did some tricks for us in exchange for chicken bits. These included slapping five, playing patty cake, and sitting up to beg. Cutest. Thing. Ever. When it was time for them to go, Rob put the cat on his shoulder and away they went.

I sure hope we meet again.
little_tristan: (Firefly See Kaylee Smile)
As you may have guessed, there were tacos! And not just any tacos. Today has been declared National Taco Day in Gilead and we expect to celebrate it annually. Yes, Steve cooked. His gf was over to get him and Monkey, but since he's laid down the law about not leaving before the boys get home, she doesn't get here until he's free to leave. I thought she was getting here early to spend the maximum amount of time with him, but it turns out that was all about getting him out early. Anyway, she was going to drive him to the store to get meat and joking about buying steak instead of hamburger since we're paying. I said if he wanted to use good meat, we had a whole tenderloin in the fridge that was on sale last weekend. So we're talking fillet mignon tacos here. With pan fried tortillas, which I'd also never had. I don't know if I can ever go back to hamburger. And Taco Bell? Can suck it.

Fortunately it didn't rain until late so Monkey got to play outside a lot. Mostly with the weird kid from across the street, who turned out to be pretty normal up close. Most people do. It's been murder on Steve trying to get his work done and look after both of us at the same time, but he did an amazing job. I know he feels bad about dropping an unexpected kid on me for two straight days, and for a half hour or so this morning I was kind of trembling on the edge, but it's not his fault. He pretty much turned his life over to the gf when he gave his heart to her kids.

Anyway, I got some reading in and almost wrote something at one point. It's a bummer that I didn't actually, but a major sign of improvement that I wanted to rather than just feeling like I should. Hopefully I can wrap up this scene tomorrow. If there's time with the showering and grocery shopping and all the other stuff I need to do so I can be gone Sunday. Okay, maybe writing on Monday. But I swear I'll be thinking about it the whole time.
little_tristan: (Otters Significant Otters)
I had my first meeting with my new physical therapist, Davita. She did an evaluation of my strength and range of motion (for 12 years in a wheelchair, I rocked it, thank you very much), and next Wednesday I get to get in the pool! Yes! I will be free! Or as free as I can be in 5 feet of water with two people who probably won't let me get my head wet. But there will be standing and moving! And Mark in swim trunks! (Poor Mark.) And me in a bathing suit for the first time in 16 years. (Poor Mark.) I ordered a tankini online and said I couldn't start til Wednesday, even with rush shipping. Still have to find something for Mark.

He doesn't get to go Wednesday, though. It's in the morning, so Heather's coming down to take me. Water therapy with Mark will be a fun new bonding experience, but playing in a pool with Heather will be a rerun of the summer of 1987. I'm kind of excited about that, too.

We decided to pursue this because it doesn't feel good emotionally to have no physical outlets for my chronic nervousness. It makes me sad and self-destructive, which my doctor is working really hard to turn around. Also, my body is starting to take on the shape of a chair, with tendon contractures and stiff joints and shortened muscles and all that fail. Since I can't go into space, water seemed like the next best thing. But just now I realized that exercise burns calories, which I can then replace by eating MORE FOOD, or not replace and lose weight faster. How cool is that? I know I used to know this--I just totally forgot that it could apply to me after it, you know, stopped applying to me. But exercise! I can haz it!
little_tristan: (Moo)
In other news, my phone is fixed! Probably! We watched the video of the guy repairing one about 15 times, not counting the numerous spot rewinds to find a nearly invisible screw or attempt to identify the thing that, in the video, springs out when he releases a screw and flies out of the shot. It takes the guy less than six minutes to totally disassemble the phone and replace the part, whereas it took us three hours. Counting the time spent peeling a circuit tape off the broken speaker module and attaching it to the new one. Luckily the problem was something other than the circuits. What are the odds?

But at the end of the three hours, we had 5 leftover screws, two tiny parts that didn't appear in the video (and which Mark couldn't recall taking out), and, somehow, a working phone! It was fairly astounding. Net result? This morning we awoke once again to the sound of a flock of ducks passing through our room.

I've finished reading When Jesus Became God and am now immersed in Misquoting Jesus. It's utterly fascinating. I couldn't have read these things two or three or ten years ago. I tried The Lost Books of the Bible back in 2004 but it produced some major anxiety attacks and I had to quit. (Ow, my faith!) Now that I'm not as clear on just who I should be listening to, I'm actively enjoying the search for answers. There's so much to read and so many possible outcomes!

In the midst of all this reading, I learned a new word: MAJUSCULE! It's, like, the opposite of minuscule, and that's awesome. I'm going to be using it a lot.

Still, in spite of my new open mindedness, I have to go on record as saying that Mel Gibson, Dan Brown, and everyone involved in The Last Temptation of Christ can continue to suck it. People have already made up enough shit. Let's try to get the textual ambiguities nailed down before we go ahead and reinterpret them for the purpose of warfare.

I just realized that the really cute guy on Criminal Minds (Reed?) seems familiar because he sounds like a young Wil Wheaton.

Yesterday Wunderground promised me an 11 hour thunderstorm. It never happened. They promised it again today, but it's already late. Am I to have no lightning at all this year? Sigh.

Thunder would have been appropriate for when I was doing Russell's taxes. He owes this year, for the first time ever. That does not bode well for Mark and me. I get to meet with our accountant tomorrow and am not optimistic. But Cousin Heather is coming over to drive me (otherwise I'd have to settle for being groped by the pervy driver of the "special" bus), and we'll probably have a good time first.

Maybe Steve will lighten up and talk to her. I love all my men, but, bless their hearts, their combined emotional maturity rating is still less than Ranger's. And he's the worst, because he hurts my feelings, I get sad, and then he feels too guilty to ever speak to me again, which hurts my feelings even more.

I've decided we need a Feelings Handbook. A MAJUSCULE one with footnotes, cross-references, a thorough index, and helpful tips on "What to Do After You've Been a Dick", with separate sections for deliberate and accidental dickishness. It would be almost as long as the combined "Shut Up, I Do NOT Have PMS" and "Okay, I Totally Had PMS Last Week" sections.

Russell can write the chapter on how to tune me out when I start talking. That will cut way back on incidents of accidental dickishness.
little_tristan: (Riptide Murray Secret)
Brought to you by my maternal grandmother. Which I guess makes it a Mullins Family recipe? Or Zimmerman? I don't even know. But damn. They're good cookies. Why? Because our family snickerdoodles are thick, fat, and fluffy. There's nothing wrong with the crunchy doodle, but if you like a soft cinnamon cookie, this is it )

Merry Christmas from me and Mom and Grandma Z!
little_tristan: (Moo)
That I forgot one of the best ones! The VW mechanic called to say he'd driven the truck a little and looked it over, and he thinks the engine is sound. It needs a tune up, new filters and glow plugs (the things that heat the oil in a diesel so it'll start; in winter when it's really cold there's an electric heater we'll plug into an outlet), that sort of thing, but he thinks that'll bring it up to speed. He'll check the compression and all, but he seemed pretty sure that it was okay.

Then he mentioned that it had very little by way of brakes, and that led to a funny conversation where I came off sounding very stupid. I said yes, the guy we bought it from had mentioned that it probably needed a brake job. And the mechanic said, well, not really. It's just that the vacuum pump that powers them isn't working. It took me a second to process that and then ask, you mean it has power brakes? And everyone had a little laugh at my expense. :)

But it's not like I've ever driven it, and we're all used to the axiom that cars with standard transmissions don't have power brakes. So whatever. He's going to call me back today or Monday with the results of the compression tests, but if that turns out like he expects, he says he can get it running really well for about a quarter of what we'd anticipated spending. And if he really does it, we can rest easy knowing we have a VW shop for next time. *happy car dance*
little_tristan: (Moo)
MAH ICONS.

default oldest newest
saddest happiest angriest
cutest sexiest funniest
fave ship fave fandom fave animated
best quote best textless best stolen idea
use the most favorite

HOW MANY ICONS DO YOU HAVE: 185
OUT OF HOW MANY AVAILABLE ICONS SPACES: 190
IF YOU COULD BUY SPACE FOR MORE, WOULD YOU: Probably
DO YOUR ICONS MAKE A STATEMENT: I try
WHAT FANDOM DO YOU HAVE THE MOST ICONS OF: Riptide (31)
AND THE SECOND MOST: Star Trek: Reboot (13) (Because Kittens aren't a fandom. Yet.)
WHAT SHIP DO YOU HAVE THE MOST ICONS OF: Murray/Cody/Nick (4)
ARE YOUR ICONS MADE MOSTLY BY OTHER PEOPLE: Yep
DO YOU MAKE ICONS: Uh-huh
ARE THEY ANY GOOD: Sometimes
ANIMATED ICONS ARE: Freaking awesome!

DO THE MEME.
Coding can be found here

Love Meme!

Sep. 14th, 2011 06:46 am
little_tristan: (Kitten Hugs)
Snagged off of [livejournal.com profile] catyah:
Instructions:

1. Reply to this post. Say anything you want!!!

2. Watch my journal over the next few days or so for a post just about you and why I think you are absolutely fabulous.

3. Post these instructions in your journal and give your friends a much needed dose of love and adoration!!
little_tristan: (Kindle)
Mary Fisher lives in the High Tower by the sea. She's blond and rich and tiny and beautiful and she gets everything she wants. Or everything she thinks she wants. When she decides she wants Robert "Bobbo" Patchett, she gets him. But Bobbo comes with strings attached, and Mary is in over her head almost from the moment they meet.

Ruth Patchett is an unusual woman. Nearly six feet tall, broad of shoulder and thick of--well--everything, she's nobody's idea of physical perfection. Least of all her own. Ruth has no illusions about herself, though. All of her illusions are reserved for her husband, whom she believes loves her. She knows he sleeps with other women, Bobbo thinks honesty is the most important thing so he tells her whenever he falls for someone new, but he always comes home to her and she thinks that matters. It doesn't.

Bobbo, an avaricious philanderer with an adding machine for a heart, thinks he can have whatever he wants and no one will get hurt. He believes in logic, but only his own. Logically, if he tells Ruth he's seeing another woman, he was honest and that makes it okay. She has no right to be hurt because he wasn't in love when they married. But she was. If he ever knew that, he didn't care then and he doesn't now. Not now that he has Mary Fisher on the side. His life is perfect, with Ruth and the children at home in the suburbs making him look like the perfect family man and Mary in the converted light house, writing her romance novels and being the perfect mistress.

Until Bobbo pushes Ruth too far. His logical honesty doesn't extend to his parents, and when she stands up to him in front of them, revealing his affairs and her own unhappiness, he snaps and walks out on her. It looks like his victory, taking all the money, giving her a pittance for an allowance and leaving her with the kids, but he makes a fatal mistake. On the way out the door, he tells her she's not a woman at all--she's a She Devil. And in that concept Ruth finally finds her power.

A She Devil doesn't have to be honest. She doesn't have to care about people's feelings, or even their lives. She can have and do whatever she wants, because she is a devil. And with that new knowledge firmly in mind, Ruth begins to systematically dismantle both Mary and Bobbo's lives. Along the way, she takes down some secretaries, a few of Bobbo's clients, and guides a similarly misfit nurse into a life of lesbianism and adoptive motherhood. And then she makes medical history with a series of cosmetic surgeries that have never been done before and that she probably shouldn't have been able to survive.

This is not a happy book, yet it makes me happy to read it. It's not a funny book, but it makes me laugh. Ruth isn't a sympathetic character--in fact, she scares the hell out of me--but I love her and want the best for her. Some of her choices seem questionable at best and an affront to God and nature at worst (and her worst is pretty bad), but it seems to give her satisfaction, if not actual happiness. I don't think she can ever really be happy, because she is a She Devil and devils aren't a happy race, but she does get what she wants. And, unlike the unfortunate Mary Fisher who is probably the only real victim in the story (except maybe Ruth's children), she's totally on top of the situation. Maybe it's her height, but one gets the idea that Ruth, after she discovers her inner devil, is never in over her head again.
little_tristan: (Dancing)
John Rickey and Gary "G-Man" Stubbs, life-long residents of New Orleans, are partners in every sense of the word. They were best friends as children, became lovers at sixteen, and now they're chefs, always looking for a good kitchen where they can work together. But jobs like that are hard to find, at least in the kind of places they'd like to work. And then Rickey gets an idea. People in New Orleans like to eat. A lot. And maybe the one thing they like better than eating is drinking. So what could be better than a menu where every dish, from appetizers to dessert, involves liquor? After trying it out at a small bar, they meet a backer who thinks they should have their own restaurant. And that's where the fun starts.

Between Rickey's paranoia, and the fact that his old boss--an equally paranoid coke-head with a troubled family history--really is out to get him, and some questionable activities on the part of their backer, Gary isn't sure this deal is really worth it. But Rickey wants his own place, he wants to be the boss, and what Rickey wants, Gary wants for him.

When it isn't being a mystery, a tour guide, or a seafood lover's wet dream, this is really a very sweet romance. That's what drew me in to begin with, having read the prequel The Value of X and been promised by my book guru, [livejournal.com profile] oddmonster, that the rest of the series was even better. And it is the perfect kind of romance. Rickey and G are so comfortable with each other, so established and in sync, that it's like a peek into a great marriage--sweet and cooperative and still kinda spicy. And, unlike virtually every other book I've read with an m/m relationship, no one cheats. That's a huge plus. But what really sucked me into the book and kept me there past my bedtime two nights in a row was the restaurant action. Which is weird, because I don't cook, I have a very narrow and pedestrian taste in food, and I would never eat any of the things they so lovingly prepare and serve to their adoring customers. (Except possibly the coffee cake and chocolate mousse. I think there was a mousse in there somewhere.) Yet it's so well-written and fascinatingly described, I couldn't get enough. Luckily, due to my complete ignorance on the subject, I was reading it on Kindle and was able to look up all the specific terminology as I went. It saved all kinds of trouble.

The really good news? There are still two books in the series.
little_tristan: (Bedlam's Child)
[livejournal.com profile] sara_merry99 helped me get my cover problem figured out yesterday, so I get to use the gorgeous cover that [livejournal.com profile] speak_me_fair made! It was in doubt for a while, as my morale sank to an appalling low, but the final solution, after fixing the dpi, was installing Firefox to do the uploading. I can't begin to hazard a guess as to why, but Internet Explorer 9 just wasn't on board with the website. It does make me wonder if Firefox might be better for other things, too, but the format was all different and I hate change, and I was a little too stressed to want to investigate further. But Microsoft should be warned that it's still there and I'm keeping it in mind...

Anyway, I got it all together and am awaiting the galley for approval. Maybe it will have the answer to the page number mystery. (Table of contents, 26 chapters, prologue and epilogue/132,000 words = 437 pages--compared to the first book where 35 chapters, 3 section title pages and an epilogue/188,000 words = 435 pages.) The first galley of the first book was 488 pages, though, because of the line spacing the publisher used. I had to go over the manuscript by hand and take out all the additional lines, but I compared the two, the current ms and the final version of the other, and I couldn't see any difference.

Anyway, tis no matter if it is long. I've decided my small efforts aren't worth getting an ISBN and letting Amazon dictate the price, so this book will be more affordable. $15 in paperback, $5 for the ebook. It won't be a Kindle book--I haven't figured out how to do that yet--but if you buy the ebook and download it to your computer, you can pick out the PDF and email it to your Kindle. I've done that with other people's incompatible books--I just have to switch the screen to landscape for reading. Also, because I've decided I care more about having readers than getting paid, anyone who wants The Bedlam Boys in e-format can send me $5 and I'll email you a PDF. (I take PayPal; PM me for the address.)

I just ask, as a friend, that you not post it to any public sites. Okay, I guess I care a little about getting paid. But it's a very reasonable price for 20 years' work, no?
little_tristan: (Firefly Bright Kaylee)
Good things that are happening: Willow is a month away from being an official dog! We consider 6 months to be a dog, since that's when she'll be spayed, get her rabies vaccine, and be licensed with the county. We're all very relieved to have gotten her through the delicate puppy months, and today she's going to the dog park for the first time. I'll try to get pictures. She doesn't often hold still anymore, but we have a new highspeed camera. Here's a foretaste, with Ranger... )

Last weekend we celebrated Sister's birthday with a Hello Kitty cake, baked by Bruder and decorated (under my supervision, of course) by Cousin H, who also delivered. That, I got a picture of. )

Yesterday I got the information packet on my new sponsored child. [livejournal.com profile] barancoire will be glad to know they gave me a girl this time--Veronica, of Kenya. She's not quite 12, so we should have many years to get to know each other.

Also last weekend, we solved our major fuel crisis. The boys were spending nearly $400 a month on gas to drive back and forth to work in either the F-150 or the Econoline, and after two years, we'd had quite enough of it. So we've been looking for a Volkswagen diesel pickup--one of the old ones from the early 80s that gets 45 mpg and runs forever. Then when Cousin H was driving me home from Sister's, we just happened to spot one parked on the street with a for sale sign in the windshield. She got the phone number, and long story short, we went back the next day and bought it. (There's actually kind of a funny story there where the three of us were trying to figure out how to get the cash on a Saturday afternoon in a town that doesn't even have a branch of our bank, and ended up at a foreign ATM using all three of our cards to withdraw the maximum amount allowed on each. Luckily he took a check for the rest, so we didn't have to go back.:)

So the boys have been driving it all week and couldn't be happier. Well, the radio doesn't work, and the glass fell out of the passenger side wing window when Bruder tried to open it, and shattered all over the highway. But you have to expect these little difficulties with second (or third or tenth) hand cars. The important thing is they've driven it all week on one tank of diesel, and it has an electric oil pan heater to help get it started in the winter. Last pic, I promise... )

Also, after absolutely wallowing in Marian Call songs and Firefly eps all week, I think I need to write a fic. I never expected to, but it might happen.
little_tristan: (Ranger)
This is actual security camera footage. The dog's name is Paco, and he's generally very well mannered. I saw him interviewed on tv, too, and he couldn't have been nicer. Now if I can just get the old man to watch it...

little_tristan: (Catloaf mini)
Surely everyone's noticed the trend toward smaller and smaller dogs. Purse dogs, pocket dogs--surely at some point someone will develop the pillbox dog which will fit right in there between the Xanax and Vicodin. So what's going on with the cats?

Seriously. As far as I can tell, there haven't been any major advances in disfiguring cat breeding since they figured out how to make the Persians' faces concave rather than just flat, which I don't think anyone was even asking for. (Same goes for the engineered hairless kinds. Miss the point much?)

This has got me wondering, where are the pocket kitties? Seems like all the cats are still starting out small and getting bigger just like they always have. When it seems to me that the popularity of Hello Kitty has proven that we as a society desire adorable tiny cats that can ride around in our pockets. Or maybe use those sharp little claws to cling to our shoulders.

Why is no one working on this?
little_tristan: (Shaun)
I watched Stripperland yesterday. It was surprisingly bad in ways that I’ve never encountered in a movie before. Like, the sound editing was—well, they probably didn’t have sound editing. Everything inside the cars was hollow and echoey, like they were all shouting into cardboard tubes. And no zombie traditions were respected. They were killing zombies by blowing holes in their guts and cutting off single limbs. (The special effects were indescribably bad, of course.) And everyone in the movie had seen Zombieland. They made occasional stabs at deconstructing it, but mostly just went with imitation. In virtually every way, except that Stripperland just wasn't funny. There were also a few jokes borrowed from Shaun of the Dead, Dawn of the Dead, and, oddly, Star Wars. (Because every movie needs a Star Wars reference?) And I think there were some quotes from 28 Days Later, but they weren't jokes. That movie just wasn't funny.

But. It also said some interesting things about women, strippers, and feminism. Nothing too profound, but enough that I kind of felt like the guys who made the movie, at least, weren’t as dense as other aspects of the film might lead one to believe. So it had sort of a worthwhile, if somewhat heavy handed, message.

However, and this is why I watched it, it also had Thom Bray. And why not? It was filmed in Portland (hilarious goof: they stop at a mall in another state, and after getting back on the road, see a sign that says Oregon 20 miles; but the mall was Jantzen Beach--they didn't try to disguise the sign or anything--which is in Portland) and he does love to do bad horror movies. Usually none this bad, but still... Anyway, he played the sole non-zombie bad guy, a sort of generic evil doctor with a severe Oedipal problem and no respect whatsoever for women as human beings. He was experimenting with zombie strippers to try to calm them down and train them in wifely arts, the idea being that since they can't think for themselves, they're already nearly perfect. He got as far as teaching one of them to sort of do a manicure (Thom with nail polish--pause for hand porn), and then one thing led to another and they ate him. Being an over-the-top bad guy, this is not a sentimental loss. Not like in Prince of Darkness, where the look on his face as he dies always makes me cry. (If you don't follow Thom's horror movies, be advised that he always dies. And he's usually really cute first, so it's sad.)

Anyway, not even Thom could make this funny, but he still did an awesome job. The kid who was the primary character/narrator/maker of rules was a decent actor, too, but they were the only ones. He's lucky he got to work with a master at the very beginning of his career.

(Interesting side note: the only reason I knew about this movie was because it was listed on Thom's IMDB resume. It was there as recently as last week, but it's gone now. And he's no longer listed on the movie's cast and crew page. So you'll just have to take my word for it, I guess.)
little_tristan: (Puppy Willow)
I know it's a bit premature, but I want to celebrate the little good things that are happening. Willow and Ranger have started playing together, as much as an 80 pound dog with no maternal instinct and a 10 pound fluffy puppy can. Anyway, Wills has hiding places for when Ranger starts to bark. Usually under my feet, but she also goes into her crate of her own accord now and then.

But her luck is spreading to other areas of our lives. I found some papers Friday that suggested my mom had another life insurance policy. (There was one that I knew of, but it was made over to my sister.) I was afraid this one would be, too, if it still existed at all. But I just talked to the union rep and not only is it current, it's in both our names. That's the most positive estate related thing that's happened so far.

But it was immediately followed by another bit of good news. The insurance bond I have to buy is going to cost about 5% of what I thought it would. We were prepared to get shafted on that, no way around it, and here it won't even cost as much as Willow R Puppenstuff herself. (Semagic note: suggested spell-check correction for Puppenstuff is Happenstances.:)

This totally makes up for the consistent way she makes me sit outside in the rain for ten minutes while she does nothing, and then pees on the dining room floor as soon as we get inside.
little_tristan: (Riptide OT3)
This is where I thank everyone for their hugs and good wishes and, of course, prezzies! Because what could have been a truly suck day turned out pretty well and it's really all because of you. Your love and support and happy thoughts and amazing art and fics that I adore and books that are just what I wanted totally took a bad day and made it better. *winks at Baby*

My one true Catyah got an early start by sending me The Black History of the White House a couple months ago, and yesterday there was another box with 84, Charing Cross Rd, Simon's Night, and, most importantly, Lindor milk chocolate truffles. Does she know me or what? :D And then this morning, there was fic! (I know someone who's getting all the lemon pie she can hold next time she's up this way.)

Darling [livejournal.com profile] jekesta, who always dances with me, made a lovely picspam of my ♥ Murray, and enabled me to acquire two books which I desperately wanted for my Kindle: Pickets and Dead Men, and Gone With the Wind, a book that will always belong to me and my Mommy, and now also to you. (Hope that's okay, because it's really pretty special.)

And speaking of books, [livejournal.com profile] sara_merry99 sent me 100 Essential Things You Didn't Know You Didn't Know: Math Explains Your World, because I am that big a geek. Hopefully the review will be along soon. *hugs you*

[livejournal.com profile] tinx_r will be responsible for my being around next year. Well, not really (I'm not that easy to get rid of), but it sure helps. :) And now I get more user pics! Hmm. I wonder what they'll be... *hugs you mightily*

More big hugs to [livejournal.com profile] seraphina_snape for the Murray gifs, one or more of which might well end up on my profile page, and [livejournal.com profile] speak_me_fair for the almost unbearably gorgeous wallpaper.

And thanks for the special messages from [livejournal.com profile] janedavitt, [livejournal.com profile] amine_eyes, and [livejournal.com profile] hardboiledbaby. They really made my day.

Last, but certainly not least, extra love to the rockstar that is [livejournal.com profile] oddmonster, who creates shiny magic every day, and yet continues to surprise. I don't know how you do it, but I am humbled to be allowed to share.

If I missed anyone, it's because my email's been bitched up all day and I know there are messages I didn't get. But I couldn't go to bed without thanks and squee and undying gratitude. Except there really are no words.

*loves you all*

In a non-internet celebration, Herr took me out for Chinese for lunch, my very favorite, and then all three of us went and saw Your Highness. Which wasn't really that great, but it wasn't bad, either, and at least won't give me nightmares. And tomorrow my cousin is taking me to see Sister for cake and familial chatter. (Okay, gossip about which people from our high school are now registered sex offenders, but bonding is bonding, right?)

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