kaffy_r | Entries tagged with weirdity

Remembering Mum, & Panicking Over Babysitting

It's truly a sign of my ability to forget; back on the 27th, I got a text from my brother, reminding me that it's been nine years since Mum died. I'd completely forgotten. I haven't forgotten her; I think about her many times a week, and hope, quite irrationally, that she's healthy and whole somewhere, occasionally keeping an eye on me and on my brother, and, just as occasionally, lending us strength when we need it. But I forgot the date and day she died. It's been almost a decade, but still ... my brother remembers every year. Perhaps that makes sense, since he spent so much more time with her during her life, especially in her final decade. He shouldered her burdens, and watched over her; that has to burn one's love right into the bone. No wonder he doesn't forget.

I'm trying to decide if it's worth putting together at least a superficial review of Power of the Doctor, free of some of the immediate raegOMG that I spewed in my last post. There was, for me, a lot to like about the episode, despite my sorrow at seeing Jodie and Thirteen say goodbye; there were also a few things to roll my eyes at. We shall see.

( Under here. )

Current Mood: stressed
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: the furnace

In Line at the Pharmacy

I had an interesting encounter Wednesday, while I was in line at BB's pharmacist to pick up one of his prescriptions.

The line was long, as lines at his pharmacy have been of late, for reasons I can only imagine have to do with 1) fewer folks behind the counter, from pharmacists to pharmacy technicians; 2) more people getting prescriptions there and 3) (this one has to do with my encounter) people getting COVID vaccines of various sorts having to stand in the same line as prescription patrons.

A young woman I'd previously noticed because of her noticeable height, (really tall), her leopard-print mask that neither she nor her nose apparently wanted to protect said nose, her very blue eye-shadow - much like my mother's eye shadow in the 1960s, all shiny and ... shiny, yeah ... shiny - and her aura of irritation, wandered past me going one way, then came back and got in line behind me.

The irritation was because, she said to someone else in line, she'd had an appointment to get vaccinated, but had been told she still had to wait in line.

I think I might been equally irritated in her place. However, much of her irritation was, she made it known to a far larger number of people, because "I don't even want the vaccine. I don't want to get it. It's stupid."

Since she'd said this loud enough to suggest she'd waived her right to privacy, I turned to her and thanked her for doing it. I told her I was immunocompromised, but didn't get a chance to complete the sentence; my comment had apparently made her feel she had to explain just why she was getting the vaccine she'd just excoriated; her parents. Perhaps this was her way of recognizing what I'd mentioned? I wasn't sure.

"Yeah, they're old; I don't want to get it - I've had it twice already so I probably have antibodies (by which, I must assume, she either meant she'd had two previous vaccination shots, in which case, her antipathy to a booster seemed over much, or had twice tested positive for COVID, in which case, oh, boy, what's wrong with this sentence ... but I digress), but my parents, they're old and they live in Florida."

I said, "I can imagine there's a lot to worry about in Florida." She did not see the "Gentle Sarcasm" light blinking on and off over my head. She simply said, "Yeah. They're old." Because I might not have heard her before.

At that point, I said the only thing I could think of saying: "You're a good daughter. Thank you."

"Yeah, well ... I guess." She smiled a little bit.

I eventually got BB's prescription. She eventually got her shot. And I decided that thanking her for being a good daughter was probably a lot more useful as a tool of positive reinforcement than, "You, dear girl, are showing signs of being an idiot. Also, pull the mask over your damned nose, ~~were you~~ ~~born in a barn?~~ did you not pay attention to how to wear them back when they were introduced in 2020, or do you think having it sag around your philtrum is either a fashion statement, or a political declaration of Muh Freedum?"

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: The furnace. MMMmmm warmth....
Crossposts: https://kaffy-r.livejournal.com/607737.html

Frustration, Success, Nostalgic Sorrow and Weirdness

( Read more... )

And here: have this. You'll understand once you dip beneath the cut.

Watch on YouTube

Current Mood: melancholy
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: Arcade Fire "We Used to Wait"
Crossposts: https://kaffy-r.livejournal.com/597597.html

Perhaps If He Had Opposable Thumbs ....

My cats are weird. I mean, all of my cats have been weird, because cats, but Teddy, our current handsome but nasally challenged tuxie, is weird in a way I've never run into before.

He likes his food, you see, but he doesn't really like to put his head down close to the food, either wet or dry, to get at it. I think that's because getting his nose too close to the food inhibits his ability to breath; he's chronically stuffy, something the vet says can't really be fixed.

So he's developed the habit of using a paw to flick food out of his bowls and onto the floor, which he seems to feel is an easier space from which to eat than bowls. When it comes to dry food, that's a matter of whapping nuggets out onto the floor and going after them, one by one.

But when it comes to wet food, he swipes at it with one paw, then licks the paw clean of the smelly goop. This would be kind of endearing were it not for the fact that his swipes are just as apt to throw the wet food around as they are to keep the food on his paw, awaiting consumption.

This means that over the space of a few days, every area near their food bowls, at least the section within a foot of the floor, has been decorated with dried food, necessitating me getting down on my hands and knees to clean it off the surfaces. Those include our kitchen island, the refrigerator, kitchen baseboards, the bottom section of our stove, kitchen walls ... you get the picture. I've spent a lot of time crawling around with scrub brush and/or hot cleaning rags.

Also, remember when I mentioned that he has a chronically stuffy nose, (possibly due to a deviated septum, neither we nor the vet are certain)? Well, sometimes, when he gets too stuffy, he'll shake his head violently, to get rid of nasal goop. And it, too, lands on those same surfaces. Sometimes, when his stuffiness and air that's too dry in the house combine to leave his nose just a tad bloody, then the nasal goop is bloody as well.

Eurgh. Yeah, I know, TMI.

It's a good thing I love the little weirdo.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: Takashi Kokubo, "Wind of the Prairie" on "The Day I Saw The Rainbow".
Crossposts: https://kaffyr.livejournal.com/581783.html

Welp ....

The day started around 4:30 a.m., with our elderly cat, Opie, showing the messy and smelly signs that a recurrent problem with the lowest portion of his lower GI tract had reoccurred. To avoid TMI, I'll simply say that carpet cleaner and repeated laundry loads vied with our sympathy for our unhappy cat, a little fellow who was obviously in pain.

Off he went to the vet's, where he received a steroid shot, which works to cut swelling in the lower GI tract and, thus, help cut discomfort and other assorted problems.

In the past, these shots have had the requisite effect in a matter of 2-3 hours. This time he is still dealing with obvious discomfort as we hit 9 p.m. The vet said we shoud wait for a day, since that time period is a normal period for steroid shots to take effect. So we will wait, but I worry that a formerly effective treatment is becoming less effectve and, as a result, our little cat is in pain longer.

Later this afternoon, we managed to misplace our postbox key. Within a very few minutes, too; I had it in my hand, put it down - and now it is gone, presumably to the same pocket universe that swallowed BB's passport. This will require a visit to the post office, and more bureaucracy before we can get into our small post box.

As I said ... welp ....

Current Mood: stressed
Current Location: the home office
Crossposts: https://kaffyr.livejournal.com/532517.html

Dreams. Go Figure.

I rarely talk about my dreams here. No, wait, I actually never talk about my dreams here.

But last night I dreamed about being in some sort of polyamorous marriage with Mark Ruffalo and Tilda Swinton, and having twins with Ruffalo, a girl named Ishtar and a boy named London. Who I had to introduce to an older boy and girl who I think must have been their half siblings courtesy of Tilda.

I ... I think I'm afraid to go back to sleep.

Ruffalo was absolutely lovely, mind you.

Current Mood: confused
Current Location: the livingroom
Crossposts: http://kaffyr.livejournal.com/406758.html

Dreams and Half-Awake Visions

( 'Ware. There be dark winds. )

Current Mood: indescribable
Current Location: the home office
Crossposts: http://kaffyr.livejournal.com/385241.html

Hi There; I'm Coming Back to the World

The funeral is three days in the past and my brother is back to work (not because he wants to be back at work; because his boss is a horrible scheduler, is really unsympathetic, and because another guy in his detachment learned that his dad is dying and had to fly to Ontario to be with his family. Sorrow doesn't belong to any one person) and I have a rental car that's super modern and a little intimidating. I'm up in Wolfville and online, albeit not until after I had to fight my computer and its connection at the cafe where I'm seated.

I am gradually returning to real life; it's the only way I can really explain it. At first, I didn't think I was in limbo for the last, what, week, but that's really the case. Things happen, and you react, you respond to people on automatic, remembering all the lessons your parents told you about being polite and being communicative, and you can even fool yourself into thinking that you're not in limbo.

But you really are.

Worrying about my brother has been helpful in keeping me tied to the real world. When you're not totally focused on yourself, you are closer to OK, I think. He's so very weary, after so many months with my mother's illness (not to mention the months in 2011 when he helped Mum and my stepdad move) that I think it will take him even more months to recover. I want to be here for him, and was looking forward to spending more time with him than I've had during the past two Nova Scotia visits. And then that disappears. Oh, well. I will make the most of the time I have with him.
And of course, I will make a hell of a lot of use of the phone in the near future.

I'm going to spend some time later this afternoon with my stepdad and his eldest daughter. Jane and I will go through some of Mum's things, and I'll get rid of all her remaining drugs by taking them back to the pharmacy for disposal (these are the kinds of things you never really think of when it comes to a loved one dying.) We may even make a stab at deciding what things of Mum's we can get rid of, what my stepdad might want to keep for emotional reasons, and what we can give away.

And tomorrow I'll be spending time with Clara, my Mum's oldest surviving friend (or one of two, but the other lady is living down in the American Southwest), who I really love. She sat with the family at the funeral, but we didn't have the chance to share grief and love, so tomorrow we'll have lunch.

I may come back to the cafe later today, before I head back to my brother's, but I think right now it's time to head to Rob's and Jane's.

Current Mood: indescribable
Current Location: Just Us Cafe, Wolfville
Crossposts: http://kaffyr.livejournal.com/274885.html

Thundersnow. It's a Real Word.
Here in Chicago, where 78,000 customers are without power, (46,000 in the city proper) we are half-way through the biggest blizzard since 1999. It may surpass the Great One of 1967. The wind gusts are 45 mph here in the city, 58 mph elsewhere. And we are having massive lightning strikes. So far 6.8 to 13 inches in the Chicagoland (yes, that's a word, too, at least in Chicago) and the snow should continue until about 1 p.m. tomorrow.

What's that? Yes, lightning strikes and thunder; apparently one more sign that the snowfall is expected to be heavy. and the official term is thundersnow.

Oh, yeah, forgot the storm-surge they're worried about for Lake Michigan. Lake Shore Drive is shut down.

I got home - today was, of course, a deadline day - at 4:30. I got into the car at 2:50. I drove 13 miles. The last 2 miles took 40 minutes, I think.

I'll be working tomorrow, but from my house. I'm shooting for a Thursday dig-out, which is when I really need to get over to

carnyjack 's to make sure his cats are fed. I went down there last night and loaded up twice the number of water and dry food bowls, then added a two baking tins worth of water and dry food, and made sure their litter could last a couple of days.

I love Chicago. Really, I do, but hell in a handcart, this is the worst I've ever seen in a long time.

I've been taking pictures from the back door. They really don't show the extent of the storm. If I get some better ones before this whole thing blows over, I may post them.

Thundersnow. Bloody hell.

Current Mood: exhausted
Current Location: Safe from the storm. Wish everyone was.
Current Music: Watching the news

Current Mood: exhausted
Current Location: Safe from the storm. Wish everyone was.
Current Music: Watching the news

Fashion - One Day You're In, The Next You're Stupid
I used to love Project Runway, back when it was on Bravo. Yes, I wear jeans and untucked old shirts more often than I ever wear stylish clothes - hello, middle-aged spread - but fashion fascinates me. And Project Runway is the only competition-based reality show that seemed to put at least as much emphasis on real talent as it did on carefully maneuvered and edited drama. (No, Top Chef doesn't count. I can't judge food that's only pixels to me.)

In fact, I loved Project Runway enough that I tuned out the last couple of seasons more because of scheduling conflicts than any unhappiness with it, or its move to Lifetime. Hey, as long as Tim Gunn still presided, gentle, elegant and brilliant, over the workroom and the designers' hearts, souls, and taste levels, I was happy. I'd even learned to deal with Michael Kors' bitchiness, Nina Garcia's capricious standards and Heidi Klum's occasionally cold-eyed world view. So I was pleased this season, when I was able to catch at least a third of the episodes.

That included the last two before the two-part finale, and, of course, Thursday night's finale.

( Gah. Now behind a cut, because I should have waited for more than the West Coast feed )

Current Mood: disappointed
Current Location: going to bed
Current Music: Nothing. Nope. Not a thing.

Fashion - One Day You're In, The Next You're Stupid
I used to love Project Runway, back when it was on Bravo. Yes, I wear jeans and untucked old shirts more often than I ever wear stylish clothes - hello, middle-aged spread - but fashion fascinates me. And Project Runway is the only competition-based reality show that seemed to put at least as much emphasis on real talent as it did on carefully maneuvered and edited drama. (No, Top Chef doesn't count. I can't judge food that's only pixels to me.)

In fact, I loved Project Runway enough that I tuned out the last couple of seasons more because of scheduling conflicts than any unhappiness with it, or its move to Lifetime. Hey, as long as Tim Gunn still presided, gentle, elegant and brilliant, over the workroom and the designers' hearts, souls, and taste levels, I was happy. I'd even learned to deal with Michael Kors' bitchiness, Nina Garcia's capricious standards and Heidi Klum's occasionally cold-eyed world view. So I was pleased this season, when I was able to catch at least a third of the episodes.

That included the last two before the two-part finale, and, of course, Thursday night's finale.

( Gah. Now behind a cut, because I should have waited for more than the West Coast feed )

Current Mood: disappointed
Current Location: going to bed
Current Music: Nothing. Nope. Not a thing.

Ambush, Perhaps. Or The Heat Death of the Universe.

I just realized that today is not a good day. I'd thought it was, and all of a sudden it wasn't. Nothing happened to make it not a good day. It just ... wasn't, and I abruptly understood that it hadn't been all day, but that I hadn't noticed.

Perhaps a pot of tea ....

Current Mood: surprised
Current Location: Don't Quite Know
Current Music: the air conditioner

Current Mood: surprised
Current Location: Don't Quite Know
Current Music: the air conditioner

When Rats (and Humans) Dance the Parasite Polka

If you've ever been pregnant, or know someone who ever was pregnant, you're probably familiar with the advice to pregnant women — to stay the hell away from catboxes, in order to avoid toxoplasmosis. That, however, is just one facet of the glittering neurobiology of the parasite which causes the disease. If ever we needed proof that the universe may not only be stranger than we know, but stranger than we can know, this certainly would be a candidate:

"Toxo Modified Humans"

Current Mood: geeky
Current Location: work-ish
Current Music: nothing, at the moment

Current Mood: geeky
Current Location: work-ish
Current Music: nothing, at the moment

Emo and Irritable Old Broad is Emo and Irritable
I should like to tell the universe that I do not like it. No, not one bit. I believe I shall make it quite clear that I think the universe is a cosmically uncouth lout of a ... rather inescapable constant ... unfortunately .... No matter. Despite the aforementioned inescapability, I intend to have words with it, at which time I intend to be very, very harsh. And after that, I shall invite the universe to stay the hell out of my way.

Current Mood: crappy
Current Location: don't. even. ask.
Current Music: "Salute Your Solution" the Raconteurs

Current Mood: crappy
Current Location: don't. even. ask.
Current Music: "Salute Your Solution" the Raconteurs

I Love This Woman.
No, really. She rocks. Courtesy of HuffPost, via BB.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: living room
Current Music: Warehouse 13

I Love This Woman.
No, really. She rocks. Courtesy of HuffPost, via BB.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: living room
Current Music: Warehouse 13

Slow Glass
... and I start thusly, because these were the scattered thoughts I jotted down while my brother and I drove from Ottawa, Ontario to Fredericton, New Brunswick. That was on the 26th; by the end of that day, I was essentially disconnected to Teh Intarwebs, with the exception of my phone. Said phone has become unhappy with me, so I probably will be looking to the tender mercies of Nova Scotian libraries until I return to Chicago on Saturday.
Still, I want to let you know where my head was at during the first day of the road trip, and I reach into the past for those thoughts. Here are the first crop, presented in the same disconnected mode in which they were generated. More may follow on Thursday, when I can once again escape to the library:( they are under the cut. It's not a fake cut, it's a real cut. Why do people call it fake? )

Current Mood: anxious
Current Location: Kentville Library

Science Is My Friend. Science Likes Me. What's Your Problem?

( Rant, ranty-rant-rant )

Current Mood: frustrated
Current Location: dining room
Current Music: nada

Science Is My Friend. Science Likes Me. What's Your Problem?

( Rant, ranty-rant-rant )

Current Mood: frustrated
Current Location: dining room
Current Music: nada

A Bit of Linky Goodness (or Weirdness, as may be.)
Well, if I'd actually signed up to post every day in November, I'd have been a total failure. Luckily, I did no such thing, allowing me to completely lose interest in posting over the Thanksgiving holiday period. No particular reason, or at least none upon which I can place a finger. As best as I can tell, it was simply a case of Ennui returning to my couch for a while. I've kicked him out, but he's still hanging about the foyer, with his Gauloises and his superciliously weary attitude.

Even now, I have little of worth to say. I shall, therefore, limit myself to a few links; you may explore them as you will.

1) freerice.com is one of life's little pleasures for me. I can strengthen my word muscles, and help provide a little something for others at the same time.

2) If you are not a fan of the recently-passed Prop 8 in California, or what it might portend elsewhere, you might want to check out these two communities:
a)

engayge_america is a clearing house of information and opportunities for anyone who believes that Prop 8 still needs fighting, or who believes in full human rights for GLBT humans.
b)

red2rainbow is a similar community, created by a gifted fan writer,

minerva_fan . If you're from her general neck of the woods, or even if you're not, you might want to check it out.
c) While this is not a community, I like the idea, and commend it to your consideration.

3) And bringing up to the Weird Rear, the Lord of Crossharbour's letter from his very own Reading Gaol. I had no words when I completed my own read-through. Not the initial one, nor the subsequent revisits.* You might have some.

* Well, except for thanks that a grieving Robber Bride has some splendid Hungarian dogs for company, per her incarcerated Robber Baron.

Current Mood: blah
Current Location: dining room
Current Music: Carly Simon "Let the River Run"

engayge_america is a clearing house of information and opportunities for anyone who believes that Prop 8 still needs fighting, or who believes in full human rights for GLBT humans.
b)

red2rainbow is a similar community, created by a gifted fan writer,

Current Mood: blah
Current Location: dining room
Current Music: Carly Simon "Let the River Run"

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kaffy_r

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Grasping at Grace (and Growth)

Transformation is Inescapable

Entries tagged with weirdity

Dept. of Listicles

Dept. of It Happened, Really

Dept. of We Used to Write Letters

Dept. of Cats, Amirite?

Dept. of Oh Boy

Dept. of Weird

Dept. of Weirdity

Dept. of Waking Up

Dept. of Wizard Blizzards

Dept. of Wizard Blizzards

Dept. of what is this I don't even

Dept. of what is this I don't even

Dept. of Life's A Funny Old Thing.

Dept. of Life's A Funny Old Thing.

Dept. of The World is Weirder Than We Imagine