Porphyrogene!

Despite having a father who is extremely allergic to any/all pets - I feel as though I am fairly well-rounded when it comes to pet owner experiences.  Here’s a fairly accurrate recounting of the pets I’ve had.  Some other time I’ll share my Cat experiences with you - but I have two little kittehs now and I have a hard time not eating them.  I should be given a medal for exercising so much restraint in the face of such cuteness.

I’ve had my fair share of fish - the only pet my dad was not allergic to - and their deaths have all been colorfully different.  When I was little I used to have an undeniable compulsion to stick my hand in the fish tank and grab the fish.  I’m not sure if this was because I was not allowed, at the time, to have a pet that I could actually, oh… I don’t know… pet? cuddle? squeeze and kiss and loooooooove forEVer? Yea, I’m pretty sure I killed at least two fish that way.  I never actually caught and squeezed them - I just think their little hearts couldn’t take the fear and stress of constantly being chased by a giant toddler hand.  My mom told me that one of my beloved fish (Angel - RIP) went on vacation when we went on vacation and wouldn’t be home when we got back.  A couple of them developed some interesting looking spots on their bodies, one Betta fish’s eyes blew up to 4 times their normal size.  I did keep one Betta fish (Dylan) alive for 2.5 years and we developed a special bond - however he died after developing some weird looking fuzz and it took me two more Bettas in quick (dead) succession (Alby and Mnementh) for me to figure out I was actively (unknowingly) poisoning them with food pellets gone bad.  It’s taken me 4 years to be at peace with their deaths and to know them as Not My Fault.

At one point. my sixth grade teacher decided it would be a BRILLIANT idea if we each went out and purchased some sort of reptile or amphibian to contribute to the class room terrarium.  I wanted a cute little baby lizard-thing, but the pet store owner literally refused to sell it to me.  I settled for Cosmo, a white frog. He was a normal frog… just white.  I loved him immediately.  He stayed in my house for one night in a bowl with some wet paper towels, and then I took him into school, released him into the giant glass tank terrarium and never saw him again.  In fact, every single thing that was given a lush beautiful glass-encased home in that classroom - escaped or was absorbed into the foliage.  We did recover one gecko that was sunning itself behind a poster that was taped up on a window and we found a little green lizard that had been warming itself in the heater.  Suffice to say the heater got a little warmer than the green lizard may have expected.  The sight of that crispy brown lizard-ish-ness haunts me to this day.

 I had a couple of very Shakespearian hamsters in college with my roommates.  First we had Mo and Jo, then Mo attacked Jo, (or defended herself from Jo - we couldn’t tell) so we separated them and returned Mo and then we had Angel and Jo and they got along fine until one day we found Angel dying of a gash in her stomach.  Then we were all afraid to touch Jo because she was obviously psycho and it all culminated in one of my roommates dropping Jo off on the petstore counter [in her tank] and bolting.  That’s right folks, she just ran in, put down the psycho hamster and ran out.

When I was 13 I finally convinced my parents that it was Time To Get A Dog because a dog would ‘Help me through adolescence’.  To be quite honest, she did help me through adolescence and I’m sure in a later entry I’ll address the angel that is the forever-puppy Pippin who is now 10 years old and still kicking. 

I’ve baby sat for bunnies (Shadow - third grade), and ferrets (Scooter - first grade).  My mom had a turtle (for 50 years… yea), Snappy.  Snappy, under my grandmother’s care, was bathed every day in Ivory soap.  She was fed dog food and lettuce.  How do I know she was a she you ask? Because she laid 3 eggs over the course of her life time that my grandmother saved in mason jars… as proof I guess…

The point to this whole entry?
None.

Except for maybe that hamsters are evil.  

Big Company Incorp. decided to cancel mandatory overtime hours for Kyle and *gasp* let everyone go home at 2:00!!! So he was home by 3:00 and we were out the door and chuggin’ away towards New Jersey.

We got there late. Soon after, I fell upon the queen sized air mattress and passed out.         … Because watching someone else drive for seven hours is tiring, man.

Thanksgiving day was fairly uneventful.  Drink coffee. Eat. Drink coffee. Walk around in a daze. Eat. Drink coffee. Play video games. Eat. Reluctantly allow Kyle to take the coffee away from me… but really only because my hands were twitching so much I couldn’t keep a good hold on it.  I suppose no American Thanksgiving (Because there is a Canadian Thanksgiving, did you know?) wouldn’t be complete without 4 extra pounds of food [= food that can NOT - even if you had an equal number of stomachs as that of a cow - be consumed in one sitting] per person that the meal was prepared for.  My personal allotted extra food was measured in Stuffing, some Yams, and these delectable seasoned oyster crackers… I’m pretty sure "seasoning" is a loose term for "crack".

One of the highlights was watching my family casually enjoy a couple of the games on the Wii.  They liked it, it was chill and fun - they were generally cool (as in not hip but rather cooly indifferent) about it.

On our 6 hour drive to Kyle’s family the day after Thanksgiving, we saw Kyle’s Grammy and caught up with her after not having seen her for a year.   No, no. I’m just ignoring that nagging voice that’s telling me the difference between Kyle seeing his Grammy 6+ times a year and not seeing her at all — is me. It’s not me. It’s just that he’s married now… to me. And he’s living in Pittsburgh… with me.  And YES FINE, I’M AN EVIL TEMPTRESS THAT KEEPS HIM IMPRISONED IN PITTSBURGH WITH MY FEMININE WILES.  Wow, felt good to get THAT off my chest.

Kyle’s Family’s Thanksgiving was up at the Cabin so this was our third time there in one month.  This trip was particularly interesting because of the Wii.  My family treated it all "this is fun - but I’ve seen better".  Kyle’s family has hardly ever been exposed to such technologically enhanced fun.  They’re more the "Kick-the-can" types, or "let’s go outside and play soccer", or "Board games are fun!" types.  So you can see why the wii took them by storm.  You can see why it isn’t surprising that Kyle’s Father and Uncle played Wii Golf for little over 2 hours.  You can see why Kyle’s mom and my Sister-in-law had an out and out battle for Tennis champion.  Although, I must admit that the highlight of the evening was, in fact, watching Grandma play wii boxing.  To get the whole picture, she’s probably shorter than 5 feet, and she’s a pacifist.  She held the wiimote and the nunchuk like her life depended on it, and with her torso leaning towards the TV at a 45 degree angle, punching till her arms were fully extended, her fists were 2 inches from the TV screen and we feared that at any moment she would actually take OUT the TV, she kept up a streaming commentary of "PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH, GO DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, ARRR, PUNCH, PUNCH," *insert unintelligible scream of blood lust* "PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH…" etc.   When it was over she reverted to her normal self, being all "Oh, that was nice dearies.  My, my, I think I’m going to go to bed now.  Good night loves!"

The video we now have of it is spectacular.

I’m now all driven out, all Thanksgiving-ed out, and I need a nap.
Yell "GRANDMA LOVES THE WII" if you’re with me.

SO… Christmas has come early in our household this year, and it will remain for about… 2 months.

There are justifiable reasons as to why it has done so, not only including impatience.

First of all… I am an adult. I can decide when Christmas is coming and how long it will stay.  I no longer have to patiently wait until mid-December to set up decorations and a be-decked tree.  I no longer have to wait till Christmas morn to give or receive gifts.  Also, as an adult, I make money and can decide when and on what I will spend it. Santa more closely obeys the wishes of adults and he will deliver sooner if you pay expedited shipping. 

I think waiting to set up decorations until a week before thanksgiving shows great restraint on my behalf considering how susceptible to sparkly things I am.  Do you know how dangerous big craft stores are to people who have a racoon-like fascination with shiny objects?  They are dangerous, my friend - very, very dangerous. Iridescence is on the rise.  Last year I searched high and low for iridescent Christmas decor with a small amount of success: some glass balls, a tiny dollar store tree, etc.  This year iridescent decorations are EVERYWHERE, and of course I now include Green/Gold ornaments in my Christmas decor hunting repetoire. But I get off topic — The sparkliness is everywhere… and especially dangerous is its overwhelming presence in the form of sparkly sprigs of plastic flora in dollar bins.  I am unable to suppress the instinctual motions that accompany spotting sparkliness.
1) Freeze.
2) Identify Source.
3) Move in to examine.
4) Touch.
Try as I might, I cannot stop.  Must. Touch. Sparkly.

When said sparkly is for sale - I must examine the price.  When the price is less than a Dollar, I black out.  Hopefully before reaching the cash register (yes. that’s where I head. my credit card tells me so.) a well-meaning shopping companion of mine will pry the sparkly from my white knuckled grip, escort me out of the building, and maintain a close watch till I come-to.  This battle will continue till late February when the craft stores have pretty much cleared out their holiday sparkles.

Back to the point… I have officially decorated a small, fake tree in our living room and dragged out 80% of our other decorations.  Yes, our Halloween decorations are still up.  Yes, our foyer has been 1/4 painted for the last 2 months.  What about the quilt I’m making and the paper mache ship I’m working on? The cape for my nephew? The Apron for my sister-in-law? The tutus I have material for? The wood carving for above the mantle? Shut up. I can stop anytime I want to, okay?

On our trip this past weekend, my husband and I decided to get up at 4:30 in the a.m., leave our hotel room, drive to Target, and stand outside in line for 3 hours in order to buy a Wii.  It was to be a mutual Christmas Gift to each other - our only gift to each other.  Now, I’ll end the suspense early and tell you that we were successful and nabbed one of the 56 Wii’s that were in store that day (they opened at 8:00 a.m. and were sold out of them by 8:05 a.m.), however I’d like to share with you some thoughts on the process.  I am constantly being reminded that you "live and learn" and I resent it.

Notes for future reference:
1) When leaving the house in the late fall/beginning of winter, do not accept it when your husband observes that he left his coat behind while you are getting into the car to leave.  Go back for it.
2) When deciding to buy the most popular "toy" in the marketplace, and you accept, in theory, that you will need to stand outdoors and wait till a store opens for said item - PLAN ACCORDINGLY.  Chairs, heavy quilts, portable space heaters, outdoor fireplaces, torches, disposable handwarmers, and furnaces are all appropriate.
3) Bring coffee.
4) Three hours is not a short amount of time and patty cake will not suffice.  Bring a board game. Bonus points for successfully involving the other 8 crazies who showed up at 5:30 a.m. in a game of Twister.
5) Bring coffee. And donuts.

Just some pointers from me to you.
And if you have it in the budget - The wii is a good time AND a work out. My right arm is very sore.  Another tip? LISTEN TO THE WII WHEN IT TELLS YOU TO CLEAR A SPACE AROUND YOU BEFORE BEGINNING TO PLAY. IT MEANS IT. 

Why do I so vehemently reccommend this?  Because I punched a full-of-water pub glass with my thumb while ‘bowling’.  The pub glass was fine.  My thumb became unconcsious for a while and when it woke up, it decided to demonstrate what it might feel like if I slammed it in an oven hot car door.  Yea.

It glowed for a good hour. I can’t say as much for the little fake tree that I decorated because although I have a string or two of multicolored lights and a bunch (read 20+ strings) of white lights… the decorations on it are green and gold… so I need gold/yellow lights. Yes, I do. 

I’ve been living in Pittsburgh for about 1.5 years now.  3 days ago… we got the Internet.

That’s right folks - for 1.5 years I have been living without the internet in my place of residence.

Crazy? Deprived? Pitiful?
Yes. All of those things.

But ‘Weaned’, ‘Independent’, and ‘Saving Money’ also come to mind.

 You see…  I had the internet at my parents’ house till college… and then I had the internet for 4 years through college;  Any time the internet and I would be separated I would be jonesing within a half a day.  How would I know what was going on in the world? How would I communicate with friends and family? How was I going to know what the weather was like?

I know you feel my pain, don’t try to deny it.

However, after getting married and moving to P-burgh, Kyle and I tentatively decided (mainly out of sheer laziness) that we would NOT have the internet… or phone… or cable.  Our house would exist in a veritable timewarp (is anyone else hearing "let’s do the timewarp again" in their heads, or is it just me?). 

After a few months it became painfully obvious that lack of internet - though loss of Gilmore girls and a consistently charged phone didn’t help - was wearing on our relationship.  You would think that at some point we would come to the conclusion that it might be better for our well-being if we just invested in the nebulous beauty that is INTERNET, rather than trying to resist the riptide.  But resist we did - we resisted until we didn’t really think about it anymore… and then a couple of weeks ago,  Kyle came across an ad for Internet and phone service for about $70 cheaper than anywhere else offerred.   It was too much for him.  He ran the phone lines/installed the phone jacks himself and last night, I officially surfed for the first time in a long time.

What seriously bugs me is that I’m not that excited about this.  I mean, the internet and I had some good times - some GREAT times - way back: www.addictinggames.com, www.cuteoverload.com, www.craftzine.com, www.makezine.com… But, at the risk of causing emotional damage to our current relationship (the internet and mine), I’ve learned to live without it.   Last night I spent at least 3 hours browsing around, playing various games and catching up on some communication… but I have to tell you - I feel as though I faked most of it.  I was using it because it was there and it hadn’t been for a while and not because I needed it or really wanted it. 

This is not to say I didn’t have a great time discovering some new stuff - particularly the bloons game on www.addictinggames.com  - but, I could have lived without it. 

Maybe the real truth is that I feel somewhat selfish or wasteful for having it.  Obviously we can live without it and be just fine… obviously we don’t need to spend this $40 a month on it.  We could be doing something else with the money either self-serving (saving/paying off loans) or not (charity!).  But a year and a half ago I wouldn’t have had this attitude, I would have been grateful and happy, and tumbling head-over-heels for the 14 billionth time because my hunk of a husband can install phone line all by his onesy. 

Maybe the REAL truth is that I find the internet to be a poor substitute for Kyle while he works 12 hour days, 5 days a week and I’m left at home to my own devices for 3-4 hours every night.  

I would rather have my companion at home than the nebulous ghosty internet.

Hmm… Anybody ever read "The Mayfair Witches" by Anne McCaffrey?

So, I’ve been travelling a lot lately.  To the family cabin 2 weekends in a row (4 hours away), to my alma mater this past weekend (6 hours away). 

I’m tired and I’m ready for a vacation - which isn’t going to happen till Christmas.

The tired translates into my writing.

i’ll write something soon. till then, how about a nap? Anyone? Anyone?

At some point in my childhood my grandparents came to visit and my parents left for a weekend to themselves.  I was probably 8 years old or so at the time of this event.  There was a small fair going on at my school that weekend, so we went to play games, win prizes, wander and kill time. 

I won a whole bunch of vouchers and so we went to go pick out prizes at the end and I picked a beautiful red squishy sticky ball — You know the kind.  They make little snacks and hands and frogs out of it now, gelatinous toys of wonder.  I was excited to get it out of the bag it was in, and on our way back to the car, I reached my little hand into the bag and started to pull it out when my Grandmother freaked out.

 She told me that it was poisonous.

I know now that she probably didn’t want me to get it out and rub it on myself, try to swallow it, or mash it into car upholstery.  At the time however, this was traumatic.  I had just played (incredibly difficult) games for (what seemed like) hours and my carefully selected prize had been deemed poisonous. 

Now… knowing the emotional consequences of such a fib (even though, to this day, I’m not entirely sure whether or not my Grandmother really thought it was poisonous or not) I almost certainly will not lie to such a degree to my children.  However… would I stretch the the truth to prevent a permanent altar of Silly Putty from being erected on the seat of a car? 

There is a blog I like to read by a woman named Erin at this URL: http://outofcharacter.blogspot.com/

Somewhere in there she wrote an entry waxing rhapsodic on the glories of a bladder infection.  She likens it to an exchange between thyself and the devil. 

Have you ever had a bladder infection?  I have.  And I think it’s safe to assume that I’m either having particularly vivid de ja vu, or the devil is back… especially considering the fact that I’ve peed 34 times since 7:15 this morning.

Devil: Pssst… *shoves firey pitchfork up my urinary tract* you need to pee, don’t you?…. Think about it. You feel the need to pee.  You haven’t peed for about 7 minutes and you took a sip of water before… are those waterfalls I hear? I kid you not! Waterfalls!  …. pssst… are you listening to me? I’m only here to help you. Seriously. Go pee.  I won’t watch. I promise.

I’m going to the doctor this afternoon, and I’m going to cry until she strokes my hair, tells me I’m pretty, and gives me the miracle drugs.

And then we’ll have a "No, YOU’RE prettier!!" fight.