aceofkittens: (ah go on)
I am going to try once again to post more. Whee!!!

Okay, so lately, I've been some kind of magnet for weird injuries. In the past few weeks:

  • I was severely bitten and scratched by one of the cats belonging to my rescue group, to the point that I still have a bruise on my leg though it's been three weeks.

  • I fell on my ass getting out of a car, which resulted in a tremendous bruise upon buttocks.

  • I was cutting bread and cut my finger down to the bone.

  • I sprained my ankle simply walking down the street. It 'popped' out with a sickening sort of crunch. It's better, but I am still a little gimpy.

Last night, I was making dinner and let out a tremendous yell. [ profile] invisiblebf said from the other room, "You cut yourself again, didn't you." It wasn't a question. Yes, I had cut myself again. At least, there was minimal bleeding this time.

Is it time for another anti-evil-eye ritual? Perhaps!
aceofkittens: (sad shalott)
I woke up to an email from [ profile] cheesehead1701 that Aja had died this morning. Aja was another grande dame of the cat world, a lot like Vassilissa in some ways. She was a force of nature, an unforgettable cat who traveled everywhere that [ profile] cheesehead1701 did, even to Japan.

Back in 2003, when they lived with me, Aja was so clingy that I got to calling her Barnacle Betty. She annoyed me with her clinginess at times, but we had some pretty hilarious moments. I missed my girls both so much when they left.

I still miss them both so much.

Here's a photo of our beautiful girl Aja )

2008 really has not been a good year in so many ways. I am glad it will soon be over. Huge hugs and love to [ profile] cheesehead1701.


May. 22nd, 2008 09:01 pm
aceofkittens: (drunken wink)

RIP, Vassilissa
Read more... )


Apr. 17th, 2007 03:04 am
aceofkittens: (battle!)
For the second year in a row, I've managed to screw up my taxes. I sent them off a month ago and the IRS politely returned them to me today. Oops. Like last year's mishap, it's a fairly minor thing, but next year, it may finally be time to give my taxes over to someone else to deal with.

My phone is fixed, so that's good. Not getting any texts for 3 days was irritating.

Not that these minor annoyances really hold much meaning after reading all day.
aceofkittens: (battle!)
I've always been a huge fan of Dick Francis and by that same token, interested in the horse-racing world. So it was with great sadness that I read that Barbaro had been put down. What a pity he didn't make it.

However, it was with even greater sadness that I read the following sentence in the article linked above:
Foaled and raised at Sanborn Chase at Springmint Farm near Nicholasville, Ky., breeder Bill Sanborn fought back tears Monday as he talked about "the privilege" of working with the colt.

Ah, the dangling modifier... racing for all eternity through fine fields of prose all over this land.
aceofkittens: (bad mood)
My heart is still in my throat. This morning, Chip tried to bolt out the door as I was leaving for work. This whole time I've had him, he hasn't shown the least amount of interest in going out into the outside world. In fact, usually, when the outside door opens, he'll back away from it.

This morning was different. This morning, he was already on the outside stairs and heading down when I leaped after him, screaming and shaking. He ran back in and cowered and I felt like a shithead for yelling, but this is one of my worst nightmares. I live on a super busy street with crazy traffic. A cat wouldn't last very long out there.

I've grown lax and careless and complacent. I will have to be more vigilant from now on. The only good thing about this is that he must be getting better if he's interested in going out to where he nearly starved to death before.
aceofkittens: (angry)
I don't want to get into all the gory details, but it seems that my story about the perfect kitten may not have a happy ending. :(

In a nutshell, Chip is not really getting much stronger. According to the first vet I saw, he is just fine and will regain his strength slowly as he was so very emaciated/dehydrated/etc. According to the second vet I saw, he is a very ill animal with asthma/a heart condition/other as yet unnamed problems who "may not have a lot of time left." I was told by this second vet that "you have to be prepared that this could be the beginning of the end." A third vet interpreted the test results as "moderately alarming," but said it was ok to keep on doing what I'm doing.

I can't keep on taking Chip to different vets and getting different answers each time, as the bills pile higher and higher. I did it with Peter and I just can't do it again. I don't know which of these vets to trust. I am just at a loss. After everything I've done to keep him (I finally had a FIERCE showdown with the landlord over the weekend, but I won that battle!), it's just too much to take if he's really that sick.

So I've just been creeping along, one day at a time, wondering why it feels like every time I find a small piece of happiness, something inevitably ruins it.

My morning

Apr. 26th, 2005 11:53 am
aceofkittens: (angry)
This morning, as I drove to work, I was just merging into the middle lane after the 10 East/110 interchange, when I saw what I thought was this fluttery black plastic bag being tossed out of a car in the lane to the right of the fast lane. In that moment, I watched the way it went from the car's window, hard against the ground... then up again and lurching across the fast lane toward the shoulder on the left. A puzzlement flashed through me, because plastic bags just don't do that kind of thing. In the next nanosecond, my eyes re-interpreted what they were seeing and my brain started screaming into overdrive.

Because it was a kitten. I saw it clearly: probably about 8 or so weeks old, dark gray/black. Someone threw a kitten out of their fucking car onto the fucking I-10 East freeway. It was still alive, but I was in the middle lane, and going too fast to get over. Plus, the shoulder on the left side is dangerously narrow.

So of course I went back. You see, in my mind, that was already my cat. Another chance at the perfect kitten. It took me a while to get back over there, because of traffic and the way the freeways connect in that area. When I got there, I pulled over into the narrow shoulder, with my hazards on, inching forward as cars whipped past going 70. But the kitten was gone. Not squished, just gone.

I have to believe someone else stopped for it.


Apr. 4th, 2005 06:21 pm
aceofkittens: (heron 2)
I am shredding myself into small pieces with guilt and shame and sorrow over the death of Professor Dundes. To those who commented in my previous post and via other means, thank you. I found a wonderful link to some video excerpts of an interview he did with filmmaker Brian Flemming. The link is here. It doesn't seem possible that this has really happened. :(

Thus, I've failed utterly to be productive at work today. I've stayed late to make up for it, and still am not being producted. As a reward to myself, I decided I'm going to do some retail therapy and buy more user picture icons.


No joke

Apr. 1st, 2005 01:07 pm
aceofkittens: (angry)
On Wednesday night, I had a very strange dream about my old mentor, Alan Dundes, a man who had a tremendous influence on my life and the shaping of my education. I had been a piss-poor student when I took his class at Cal — by the end of it, the fires of academe had been lit under me, and I turned my whole life around. I took more and more folklore classes and eventually went on to try and get my graduate degree in folklore. Alan Dundes was an inspiration to me. Not everyone agreed with his ideas, but to me, he was a mentor and a friend.

Wednesday night, or I should say morning, for night came at the end of a 6 hour drive, I dreamed that I was in the long hallway at Kroeber, and I went up to Professor Dundes' office to see him, like I had so many times before. He asked me what I was doing and I had to tell him. He was very disappointed and scolded me a little. I told him I'd gotten this job down in LA, but that I had quit it abruptly and was coming to work at Berkeley, like I had always wanted. He scolded me some more, then relented, and gave me a big bear hug, and we talked a bit about this new dream-job and the guilt I had at quitting my LA-job so abruptly.

I told some people about the dream yesterday. "Are you going to go see him while you're up home?" one asked, "You haven't gone to see him in a while." "No," I said, "He'll just be very disappointed in me for real, like he was in the dream." But, I always did love coming to see him and today, as I walked to the MUNI on my way home from my dentist appointment, I thought about maybe going over to Berkeley after all, or at least calling.

I got home, opened my computer for the first time since Wednesday, and saw a flurry of emails and I went on Yahoo News and my old mentor, Alan Dundes, died on Wednesday. He died doing what he loved, teaching. One time, we were talking and he told me: "The secret to happiness is to find something that you love doing and do it, and find someone to share it with." Alan Dundes had both.

The dream scares me. I am so sad right now. I will miss his wisdom. I am so ashamed I was too much of a wimp to go and see him. I'm so sorry.
aceofkittens: (Default)

You know what's even better than finding out you only have $34 in the bank? Why, it's forgetting and using your ATM at the grocery store... and hitting "yes" for an amount greater than $34... then remembering an instant too late... that "oh shit!" moment... oh yes, that's great. But you know what's even better than that? Why, it's that my bank evidently offers "overdraft protection," so the transaction cleared... and it comes with a hefty fine, I gather... because now my bank balance is -$70.
aceofkittens: (Default)
Well now give me money
A lot of money
Wow, yeah, I wanna be free
Oh I want money
That's what I want
That's what I want...

Ok, so... I'm having another money related freakout, which long-time readers of this LJ got to see a few times before. Basically, I'm being hounded about my debt and I wish certain parties would just fuck off and die already.

I don't live extravagantly. Yes, I've made some fiscally bad choices, but I'm trying to claw my way out of the hole. But it's too little, too late. It's just not enough. I feel panicked, I need to MAKE MONEY FAST!!! (and grow my penis 3-5 inches)

I guess part of it is that I'm kicking myself on top of it all. How did I get here? This is not my beautiful house... this is not my beautiful wife! :(


Jul. 16th, 2003 08:22 pm
aceofkittens: (Default)

A car barreled through a crowded farmer's market near the Santa Monica Promenade at about 2 p.m. today, leaving eight dead and more than 45 injured, according to Santa Monica police....

The local TV stations are going crazy with this, showing the same snippets of footage, interviewing the driver's neighbors, etc. I just keep thinking about how I always take people to the Saturday version of that farmer's market -- it's one of my "touristy LA" activities that I inflict on guests and friends.

It really gets me that all the old man's neighbors (the driver is 86) keep saying what a great driver he is. No, he's not. Sorry, when you mow down an entire farmer's market, you sort of lose your "good driver" status by default.


aceofkittens: (Default)

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