Sunday, July 29, 2007

Satan Kitty

The following is a random story from my life. I had pictures, but as most know, things get lost in moves, even if they are digital. In my recent move to a different office, the photos did not make it to my new computer. Please try to use your imagination for the visuals.

One day going to my old office on base, I saw this little streak of gray run into a hole in the building. At first I thought I had imagined it, but later, I saw it again.

It looked like they were doing maintenance on the building and had left this panel off, and I didn't want any little kittens to get trapped under the building when they were done, so on my lunch I bought an extra hamburger. Also not wanting my fellow employees to know how nuts I was, I did not tell them my plan. At first I thought it would be easy, lure the kitten out with hamburger and be done with it. but the moment it saw me it disappeared so I figured I had to be sneakier. So I hid off to the side of the hole. It came out a second time but I was not fast enough. I did notice that the little grey kitty looked dirty and skinny, making me want to save it even more. Then I made a trail of hamburger so it had to come a little further out. But by this time it was starting to get a little more skittish. I sat their crouched by the side of the building, for like 15 minutes just hoping no one would come out and think I was crazy.

After much patience my moment arrived and with both hands I (gently) pinned him to the ground. Well what was previously a sweet hungry kitten turned into Satan's cat. Every muscle in his body was tense and although he was pinned on his tummy he turned his head around and looked at me with such hatred it reminded me of Linda Blair in the Exorcist (hence the name), and let out this hiss/ growl noise that made my soul quiver a little. So I have got the kitten trapped, but now I am also trapped. I know if I give this kitten a seconds chance he (I found out the sex later) will bloody me as much as his little claws will allow before streaking back under the building. Well I manage to make it to my feet and walk to the office door, but with my hands full, I can't open it. I realize it's either let go with one hand and risk being scarred for life or getting my coworker's help. I kick the door and luckily a cat owner opens it. But I look deranged, all sweaty and holding this (back to sweet looking) kitten at arms length, screaming "No don't touch!" Well they get me a box and I quickly put him in and try to let go and shut the flap at the same time.

I put the box on the floor of the my car, hoping he won't try to escape, sending me careening off the road. However he was very quiet, which actually makes me more nervous -- like he is plotting his revenge. I make it to the base vet safely. I tell them my story (they already know me - surprise). They put him in a kennel with some water. He hides in the back and hisses when we come near. Although I'm glad he is no longer in danger of starving to death under my building a little bit of my care has warn off -- I am actually glad to be rid of him.

As is policy the vet will call animal control. who will pick him up. But I know, and they warn me, that if he remains feral and wild, he will not be adopted. So the next day I call Davis Country animal control to inquire about him. They know nothing of the Satan cat of which I speak. Turns out a little food and water will go a long way.

Over the few days after I left him, Satan kitty got sweeter and melted the staffs' hearts and they couldn't bring themselves to call animal control. I went and visited and he had been exorcised. He was a little ball of playful fluff who liked to run up and down people's legs and curl up on their necks. He even started to doze a little in my arms as I stroked his belly. There was a part of me that wanted to take his home, but one of the staff member's children had already fallen in love (she had already paid for some of his vaccinations). So I was content with my part in this story with a happy ending, even if it was the part that was a brush from hell.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

J.K., thanks for the adventure

Moments before midnight, screams of excitement rise from the mob of people, ranging from infants to the elderly, many of whom are dressed strangely. A policeman watches over the crowd in case anything gets out of control. Seconds before midnight someone begins to count down.



All of this for a book.

Growing up I was ashamed for being a bookworm. I was even accused of cheating at a read-a-thon by a teacher, for the amount of books I said I had read. But now tonight I stand with a crowd of hundreds at Barnes and Noble to get my copy of the last Harry Potter book "The Deathly Hallows," and feel vindicated in a way.

Luckily, Nichole decided to pick up our wristband first thing in the morning a few days before the sale, this got us into group D, so we did not have to wait to long to get our book. The line stretched passed Old Navy, Toys R Us and through the parking lot to Office Depot.

As group A walked out with the first copies of the book, they held them up and there was more cheering. It was fabulous. I was very impressed with Barnes and Nobles' organization. Nichole was in and out with our books within minutes. Although we will go home separately and read our books, I am so glad I get to share this experience with her.

No, I didn't wear a robes or put a lightening bolt on my forehead, but I love all the people who did. All of the characters were there from Hagrid to Dobby, to random wizards dressed as muggles (wearing all of the wrong things). Just like girls screaming for the Beatles, or those who owned pet rocks, being in this crowd makes me feel like a part of history.

As the book release came closer, I started to get what I called 'Harry Potter Anxiety' -- the fear that the ending would be leaked to me before I got to read it. I even heard that people would drive by and yell the ending. One person walking out with the book even had it opened to the last pages. This, my biggest fear, was not realized. While I am happy that everyone is so excited for these books, it makes me sad that technology and mean people would give away the ending. (But yes Erin, I will call you as soon as I am done, because it makes you happy)



















My attention span for this blog is reaching it's end, as my book sits waiting for me. This will be my last venture to the Internet for a while, not only will I be busy reading my book, but I don't want to chance of even getting a hint to the end Harry, Ron and Hermione's story.




To my fellow bookworms, even if it is just Harry, Happy Reading!!

Monday, July 16, 2007

Feels so good to be bad



I found this on the bottom of my office chair, and I almost immediately ripped it off. I say almost because I did have a second of doubt -- I am not a complete monster with no conscience. After determining that no harm would come to the chair, it was like I couldn't not rip it off.

What's interesting is that ripping the tag off was not the first rule I broke. I have owned this chair for years, and until discovering this tag underneath the seat, have never known how oppressive it really was. Without even trying I have done almost everything on this list that the chair told me not to because it would cause serious injury (they never warn against funny injuries).

I guess what it comes down to, is that I don't like my furniture to tell me what to do. I realize they put these warnings on things because of people who don't understand that using a swivel chair, with wheels on the bottom, as a step ladder is not a good idea. At times I can even be this person. But just as I don't believe inanimate objects can tell how to use them, I also believe that they cannot be held responsible for my serious -- or funny -- injuries when I use them to hang my disco ball on the ceiling.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

What's behind door #1?

I have read the factiod several times (usually in women's magazines) that the cleanest stall in public restrooms is the first one, because it is the least used. This is due partly to the fact that people feel they have more privacy the further they are from the door.
I am not sure how men do it, but most women are very concerned with restroom cleanliness -- resorting to hovering, covering the seat in tissue paper or just holdinging it. Becuase of this, I believe that many women, after learning of this factiod, will begin choosing the first stall.

And here in lies the problem. As people learn the first stall is the cleanest because of it's under use, and then begin to use it, this will begin to make it the most used and in turn the dirtiest -- thereby making this factiod no longer true.