strays

Meowing at volumes previously unsurpassed by domestic felines, the gray stray bared his sharp, carnivorous canines and glowered at me. Hungry, full of intention, he crept toward the screen and clawed his way to a standing height of over two feet. Sensing a territorial battle approaching, I quickly grasped the glass door for protection and slammed it noisily to a close, bringing lowder, almost baby-like cries. Not to be halted in my endeavor to separate myself, I floundered with the lock and brought the long venetians to a quiet close. Silence. If only the glass divide between us could ameliorate the guilt I felt inside. No creature should feel so unwanted.

Undeterred, the cries began once again, screaming at me as if he would will his way inside. What did he want? Why me? GO HOME. I do not want you. The embodiment of torture, just the thought of reaching down for one small carress along his jagged fur brings me running to the rescue of the smallest of pills.

Animal control....are you there? leave a message? not open? one more night, I can do it. Resolved, hopeful for resolution, I leave. Hours later, my return finds the situation unchanged. I will not back down. I go to bed, waking up to the same vicious cries. No, I will not feed you, PLEASE just go home, you find no friends here. I feel so cold, so unloving. The internal struggle rises, I have some milk, just a little will do no harm. No harm? He will NEVER leave if he has the slightest window of hospitality. I look, he looks back. The silent staring ensues. Who will give in, who will conquer. I close the blinds. I will not back down.

Animal control calls. Cats are free to roam. No help, no resolution. Thoughts of picking up the tortured bring hallucinations, no, there must be another way. I step out, glass in hand, overturned and the ground is wet. Darn, a miss. Another one, a small splash on the fur, but he is coming back. More water, and still no reason to flee. He is not afraid. I have lost. A stray forever my new mate.

I just bought this on lime ricki. It is ULTRA modest. Perhaps too much so, but I love the turquoise and the tie in the back. I can't wait for summer!!! MOTIVATION to WORK OUT. Yes. I am FINALLY back into running. I think, this is still such a possibility because I might die on the swim, but I MIGHT do a triathlon. Oh, it's a lofty goal, but I gotta live for something right now.

Okay, I also MIGHT start taking some classes at UCD this summer. It's my 6 year anniversary graduating from BYU this month. Yes, that's college. 6 years. yikes times two. That's a long time. I need to hit the books so I don't totally turn every part of my non-accounting brain to mush. Biology and chemistry are on the list for the first semester back. Maybe in about 6 more years I can take the DAT and check that off the list :)

San Francisco, baby

Hello rice-a-roni and the GGB, I went to SF a couple months ago (again, alone) and here are some of the highlights.

Fisherman's Wharf on a wonderfully romantic and drizzly day...

Ghirardelli Square - mmm, samples of their crunchy peanut butter in chocolate...this is me after eating a bag of them

And a cupcake...

At Pier 39 - if you look close, you can see the merry-go-round. I love the colors in this picture.

The bed, luxury in the name of Pickwick. The name of the hotel was the real draw for me - the Pickwick Hotel - it sounds so 19th century...and it was. Lots of character and charm.




I loved it, the beautiful rain and fog, the closeness of the ocean, the company. Yes, although I went alone, my dearest Owen came to see me!!! I'm so lucky to have such a great friend to drive so far just to spend a few short hours together. AND, to top it all off, there were two H&M's within blocks of the Pickwick. within blocks. not even planned. it was a good trip.

Andrew, I need you

I know all I ever talk about is music. I'm sorry about that, and I'll try to keep my raves to a minimum tonight, but I'd like to thank Andrew McMahon, the boys from Matchbook, Dashboard, and of course, Jimmy. oh man, Jimmy. They are the reason I am still alive, my lifeboat. The world is so lucky they had the drive to pursue their dreams and give us the greatest, most wonderful gift of music.

My ipod broke a couple months ago, and the day it happened caused a minor crisis. I could barely concentrate. Not because I was worried about the broken ipod, but because I was lost without the music. I didn't realize my dependency, but it felt like losing a limb, I didn't think I would make it. It might be bad that I need it that much, but I think under the circumstances, with unending amounts of work and crazy hours, it was necessary. It's like the rays of sunshine feel on the first days of spring after a bleak winter. It's lifegiving.

So, crisis averted, I have redownloaded all my CD's (yes, I still own CD's, I think I am the last person alive that has never downloaded anything from itunes) and the IV is now dripping again.

bored to death - fact or fiction?

Boredom can lead to madness in parrots. The birds need constant interaction, affection, and mental stimulation; bird authorities have determined that some parrots have the mental abilities of a 5-year-old human child. When caged by themselves and neglected for long periods of time, these intelligent, sociable birds can easily become mentally ill. Many inflict wounds upon themselves, develop strange tics, and rip out their own feathers. Should a neglected parrot go mad, there is little that can be done to restore it to normalcy. In England, there are mental institutions for such unfortunate creatures.

Weird facts popping up in the useless knowledge bank...

apologies and confessions

Tender mercies

Quietdrive has a wildly insanely crazy amazing new album. That's all. Check it out at www.myspace.com/quietdrive.