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When I'm sitting next to a pair of punk-ass little brats, I'm glad to hear you say that you think they're terrible people who are going to end up in jail. Yes, I can't stand them either.
However, next time? Present your spirited defense before they get off the train. "Oh, if that other person hadn't backed you up, I was going to throw them off the train!" Yeah, well, you didn't, and I got to deal with twelve year olds who think they can show how grown-up they are by saying fuck a lot. For crying out loud, I had a kid asleep on my lap! I could've used the help! They're not big, they're babies, and more than one adult telling them to knock it off would've gotten them down to aggrieved mutters a lot faster. What the hell are YOU so scared of? Oh, you would've made them stop. Yeah, right.
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And the other one wasn't cute, just frustrating.
Callie, as I've said, can play fetch. More importantly, she's learned she doesn't have to fear and distrust ALL humans. Some cats are born less trusting than others, and she was definitely one of them. I don't know why you sometimes get kittens who appear to be born half feral, but they require extra help.
She's still pretty shy and mostly is only friendly with *me*, though. I could make some real progress with her if Jenn and/or my mother would back me up, but alas...!
The other day I tried to show Jenn how Callie can play fetch, and the cat outright refused. Seriously, she insisted on playing with another toy she'd previously rejected several times and wouldn't fetch at ALL. Jenn laughed, I rolled my eyes and pointed out that with another person there it's hard to get consistent behavior from her, and anyway it's not about *me*.
After Jenn went to bed Callie brought me a toy and dropped it at my feet. *sigh* So I threw it, and she fetched. And we did this for a few minutes when it occurred to me - I only think I've taught her how to fetch. Callie thinks she's taught me! Well, she IS a smart little cat.
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1. An address book we gave to my mother several years ago (my father signed its cover), never used. I burst into laughter at this, as, despite her claims to the contrary, my mother never uses presents we get her. EVER. Here's the proof it's always been that way!
2. A box of photos, many of which still in good shape, all of which prove that I was an incredibly awkward child. Even after years of weekly dance lessons, I never was able to pose in a natural looking picture. I always had my head, my hands, my feet, or all of the above at some weird and funny angle.
3. A birthday card sent from us to my mother one year in Belgium. My signature says, and I quote: "Happy birthday, Mommy! I (as you know) love you! Connie". Except I wrote my name upside down. Here, again, is proof of something I've suspected for ages: even as a child, I was a pedantic brat.
4. A photograph of our room in our grandparents' house in Belgium. Under the bed are scattered a suitcase worth of books. Much of the rest of the day today has been spent carefully stacking the books on the shelves. Yes, stacking - it's the only way they fit! Truly, nothing at all has changed for any of us in the intervening few decades. It's all about the books. I remember the careful shopping sprees so we'd have enough books to last us two months in Belgium, and we'd finish about half before we even got off the plane.
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We have two orange cats, our mama and her (getting to be huge) son. We have one calico who wasn't supposed to be outside, but who managed to come in the door yesterday morning in the rain.
I was so surprised at seeing her outside in the rain when I *knew* she was still being confined for that eye infection that I didn't really pay attention as I shooed the second orange cat inside. (We've given up keeping Sandy in the house. He's a bit of a ninja about getting out, and around the second time I saw him casually leap, from the floor, out a window that was only opened at the top for JUST THIS REASON I threw in the towel.) Two orange cats, one calico who was busy being picked up and snuggled poor DEAR and who was about to take her last dose of medicine.
I closed the door, and as soon as I did I and the cats all realized something: THIS CAT DID NOT BELONG. Instead of getting a somewhat large orange adolescent tom with a lot of white, I'd managed to get a fairly large cream-colored full-grown cat instead. Whoops!
Despite the fact that he'd just been palling around with my cats that morning, as soon as he got in Mama turned and hissed at him. And despite the fact that he's got to be twice her weight, he bolted. Immediately down into the basement. I followed him down and shooed him back towards the back door. Would he go out the door? NO, because I was there! Up the stairs and into my kitchen, where Mama firmly hissed him out again. NOW would he go out the door, or onto the back porch roof? No, I was still around somewhere! Into the attic! I went up and saw him carefully perched as high as he could be. I looked at him. He looked at me. I looked at him. He looked at me. I remembered that maybe it's not a good idea to stare scared animals right in the eye. He remembered the same thing and bolted as far from me as possible and into a closet.
I opened the back porch window, herded all my cats into my apartment, put out a little food for this cat (he seemed most scared of me, but really, all *I* wanted to do was a. feed him and b. get rid of him in some non-violent way) and locked the door so he couldn't get out of the attic/back hallway. I slipped back out and saw the cat going out the window! But as soon as he saw me he dashed back upstairs. *sighs* Time to go drop Eva up at school. Maybe he'd have more luck once he calmed down.
When I got home I found that Sandy had snuck out the pantry window and established the back hall as his. Visitor cat got the attic, which meant he wasn't able to get onto the back porch roof. Locked Sandy back into my apartment and, a few hours later, after closing every door in the attic and carefully picking up and dropping every. single. box in the closet in which he'd stashed himself (for a big cat he sure could make himself small!) managed to get that cat back down the stairs and on the back porch roof.
Now he was stuck one short story from the ground. In the drizzle. He couldn't get back in the house because I was standing at the window debating whether I should shoo him off with a broom or just close the window and assume he'd figure it out. "Boy, you are a stupid cat, aren't you?" At this insult he finally made the only sound I'd heard him make throughout this entire ordeal, a very pitiful growl. At least I think it was supposed to be a growl. That decided me. "I'm going to help you. You're not going to thank me, but I'm going to get you off this roof." I picked up the nearest broom and thrust it in his general direction. Cat jumped off and crouch-ran all the way out the yard and up the hill.
Poor thing.
And you know what? He came back and hung around all last night! Our cats are perfectly friendly with this one so long as he's not in the house, it seems.
So, yeah, that was *my* day. Now I want to get this cat and get it fixed. It can't be helping the gene pool that much.
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Well, the visit ended up $120. I hadn't realize that using a stain to make sure she had no scratch would bump the price up so much. However, when the vet said she wanted to see Callie again next week and I pointed out that, much though I love the cat, if the choice is between her health and food, the cat doesn't win, she said she'd see me next week for free if I make sure to make an appointment directly with her. (And that's why I chose this vet. I know from experience that they're each and every one of them a soft touch.)
Callie has no scratch on her eye, and she's already doing better. Her appetite (which I'd barely noticed was down, because it's hard to tell with three cats) has really picked up, she's willing to play, and she recovered nicely from the trauma of having to go to a strange place and be poked by strange people. I have an antibiotic to give her three times daily on her eye (not the same one it always was, apparently that's off the market for unknown reasons, the vet was really pissed at that) and instructions to keep her isolated.
I'm willing to keep her isolated, this sort of infection spreads like a zombie plague, but it's harder to do than you think! We have insufficient doors :(
I've spoken to the nieces very firmly and explained that they must not go in to bother Callie at all because of the risk of spreading infection and the simple fact that Callie doesn't like them. This is not so much because of them, surprisingly, but because of her. And a little because of them. Ana finally worked out on her own (despite me telling her for months, but you know how kids can be) that "Sometimes, if you just sit and pretend you're scared of her and don't go to her, Callie will come towards you". Well, no duh. That's because you're not tromping around being scary. You don't often find cats who like small children, or even larger children, because kids are unpredictable and can so easily harm an animal without realizing it.
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Apparently some languages (or at least one language, and that's Welsh) have a separate marker for some singular objects. That is, some nouns have the plural as their default and the singular is a suffix. Isn't that cool? Wikipedia compares this to English mass nouns, which reminds me. A while back I was checking up the etymology of asparagus and I found this whole discussion on what the plural of asparagus is. Sadly, I could not join in, because I wanted so much to point out that it doesn't have a plural, it's not a count noun. But that answer raises so many new questions, mostly "Why the heck can't you count asparagus?" It's not like water or air or even rice and sand. It's asparagus, so why can't I go "one asparagus, two asparaguses, three asparagi, four!" like potatoes? Or maybe other people can do that, but I find myself referring exclusively to bites or stalks or bunches of the stuff instead. And for that matter, why broccoli? I can't have one broccoli, but I can have one head or stalk or bowl of broccoli. I can count cabbages but not broccoli? Something is broken in the English language here, guys! Tags: language
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The articles are mostly interchangeable, although I doubt the families profiled want to hear that, but the comments...! You know, you can learn a lot reading internet comments, although you'll generally wish you hadn't.
At any rate, here's a useful tip I've developed which is relevant in oh so many types of conversations with... well, internet commenters in general. Take their sarcasm seriously. Yes, and jump right off that slippery slope!
See, one common comment in these conversations (right under "it's horrible to let these boys cut off their penises!!!" which it should go without saying isn't really happening in any of these articles) is "You wouldn't let your kid pretend to be a dog/cat, so why are you letting him pretend to be a girl? Huh? HUH???"
Now, you could make an intelligent rebuttal here. You could point out that most transgender individuals say they knew since they were very small*, or ask how indulging your child will harm them if they really do grow up to change their minds.
I've found a better reply, though. (And in my case, it happens to be true!) I go "Oh, well, actually I would. The younger kid** was a dog for three years! The only rule we had was no leashes around the neck. Who cares?"
And then they never answer. And then you win. (I mean, you win by shutting them up. You probably don't win by convincing them of how right you are, but honestly, you're not going to do that anyway. Might as well have fun!)
And this applies in so many areas. Elsewhere on the internet some idiot is complaining about child credits on taxes because "If your kid had shoes you wouldn't ask your neighbor to pay, right?" As one comment on a linking page said, yes, she WOULD ask her neighbors to pay if she really couldn't afford shoes for her kid. Her pride isn't so important it'll keep her from begging. It doesn't really matter what the issue is, just say yes to their rhetorical questions and move on. It's fun! Try it! (This is assuming you think hanging around in internet comment sections has any potential for entertainment whatsoever.)
On a different note, sooner or later somebody always mentions the Harvey Milk School in NYC. I want to make this very, very clear: This school is not limited to LGBTQ students. It's intended for any high school student who feels that they are being bullied so badly that they might not be able to complete their education (or, in extreme cases, survive). Many of these children are LGBTQ, and I have no doubt that all of them have been hit, repeatedly, with slurs against LGBTQ people, but there's definitely no preference there. I'm so utterly sick of hearing about "that school for gay kids, how awful it is!" when it's not.
* This does not rule out people who were genuinely mistaken when they were little. I have no idea what the statistics are for "people who thought they were the other gender when they were preschoolers and then changed their minds later". I doubt anybody really does because some percentage of them is bound to have never told anybody or been taken seriously if they did. At any rate, I don't think it's relevant. If it IS just a stage it's bound to pass sooner or later, and maybe it'll pass more quickly if you don't make a big deal out of it.
** Sometimes I don't bother to clarify that "the kids" are my nieces, especially if at least one of their parents and I were on the same page about the issue. Why allow people to change the subject? Either I'm right or I'm not, and it has nothing to do with whether I have the right to make observations about my sister's kids.
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Small, but not freakishly so like her sister. I expect her to stop growing around September, maybe a little later but not much. She might get bigger than her mother simply because she's not going to get pregnant at any point. At this age, of course, you can't really see the growth from week to week.
Her brother is something else. He dwarfs his sister, and probably his other littermates though they're not here to compare. He outstripped his mother already, about a week ago. (In length. He's weighed more than her for a few months now.) And I know exactly when this happened because the week before he was still smaller than she was. He's 8 months old and you can still see visible growth in him on a weekly basis. And larger animals take longer to grow up, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's still getting bigger (in terms of bones) at 18 months or even 2 years. (Muscle mass takes a little longer, and they'll still be putting that on for some time after they cease getting longer. Their mother's small size in that regard is one reason I suspect she's a very young cat after all.)
It's a little frightening, actually. And to make it worse, he's not a subtle creature at all. Some cats, you know, they have the art of making themselves smaller than they are. Not this guy. He doesn't rest, he lounges. He sprawls. Like some humans, he's determined to take up as much space as possible in any given instant. Even if he curls up he's always careful to stretch his front paws as far in front of him as possible. He's going to be huge, he already is, and his goal is to make himself appear even larger. It's like he knows this is his huge tactical advantage in all situations and he's determined to take advantage of it even when it's completely unnecessary.
I truly marvel. I'd take a picture, but I'm not even sure what I'd use as a basis of comparison.
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And when I say "recently" I mean "several times over the past few days". I tend to fixate on things like that. As a child, it wasn't at all unusual for me to read the same book three or four or more times in a row, and then pick it up again a few weeks later to repeat the process (and that's why I have parts of A Little Princess memorized). Anyway, this has gotten me thinking about Penny's last words. Thinking about them more than just "God, Joss Whedon really sucks", that is. Am I the only one who thinks that maybe Penny was intentionally trying to twist the knife there? I mean, she'd just watched her boyfriend humiliate her and insult all the people in the room (people she works with and cares about) and her friend-friend went nuts and shot up the place, incidentally injuring her in the process. I mean, I don't know, it just seems like if there's ever a chance to be a little bit vindictive, that's the time. A lifetime of suppressed bitchiness coming out right at the end, to somebody who whole-heartedly deserves it - I'd do it. Wouldn't you? You're supposed to lie and be nice to dying people, but dying people get to do what they want consequence-free, don't they? I need to find a new hobby, I think. And on the subject of hobbies, I think we've worked out that centaurs probably don't work and humans can't fly, but mermaids are still on the table, right? (Borrowers and Tinkerbell-type fairies are right out, of course. Too small. Maybe if they were chubby and furry like mice? But then they'd effectively BE mice, wouldn't they?) Tags: thougts, tv
I'm feeling:  cheerful
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She said that a few years ago a mutual friend had mentioned to her that I had stood up to somebody on the bus - over what, I don't know, but something where they were in the wrong, I'm sure - and she really admired that. And Jenn had been a little surprised because that's so me that it would not occur to her to be impressed by it. Or something like that, it comes out worse when I retell it :) Now, I don't know which bus incident this was. It's not all that important. I do know why Jenn thinks that's so me, though. It all goes back to our dad. ( Dreamy flashback music time! )That all brings us to today. Ana's school allows seemingly anybody to put up a flyer in the main entrance, and somebody put up one for a fundraiser (which won't even take place until mid-June) for Autism Speaks, and I just don't want to have to see that stupid sign every single day until then. I refuse! I also don't want to have to talk to the office regarding their policy on flyers (I mean, they must have one... right?) and why Autism Speaks is not a good organization (but I have to avoid saying they're evil because then it sounds like people who don't know that are evil and nobody listens even though it's plainly true) and why they should next time ask whoever-it-is to put up a flyer for another charity (we even have a few good local ones on the Island) instead. I mean, I really don't want to do that. I would rather have teeth pulled. I don't even like talking to the pizza delivery guy, and let me tell you the only reason we ever get pizza around here is because they have an online ordering system. Otherwise we wouldn't. Telling people all about Autism Speaks and why it's bad bad bad? Gulp. And people I actually know? And have to see for the next few years??? I'm putting it off until next Monday. I'll print out some information, write a little presentation, and try to breathe. Not because I want to, but because it has to be done, and one day 23 years ago my mother said to my father "If not you, then who" and now it's my curse. Thanks, Mommy. This is as bad as the proofreading gene. (And on that note, the notices from school aren't any better written than they were. I've brought THAT up to them as well, and no, I didn't want to.)
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After a video of teenagers playing chicken with a subway train gained attention this week, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority said they “should be taken into custody and then they should have their heads examined.”The video, shot at the Kingston Avenue station in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, was uploaded to YouTube in December by the news site Crownheights.info. NBC New York and My Fox NY both ran segments on the video after Gothamist published a post about it on Tuesday. In the video, which Crownheights.com said was made by a reader waiting for a train, about a half-dozen teenagers jump down onto the tracks, some of them staying until after the lights of an oncoming No. 3 train appear. The last youth jumps back up onto the platform about 10 seconds before the train arrives at the station. “Playing on or near subway tracks is one of the most dangerous things anyone can do, and while you can’t outlaw stupidity, you have to remember that 146 people were struck by subway trains last year and 47 of them died as a result,” a spokesman for the agency, Charles Seaton, said in a statement. “The individuals depicted in this video should be taken into custody and then they should have their heads examined.”</a> Every word of that is utter truth. Some people... I don't even know what could possibly be going on in their heads, and I'm sure I don't want to know! Tags: nyc
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For decades, the Judge Rotenberg Center in Canton, Massachusetts has been torturing and abusing people with disabilities in the name of treatment. Residents are subject to electric shocks, food deprivation, prolonged restraint and seclusion, and forced witness of these same tactics used against other residents.
This video of Andre McCollins, then-eighteen, who has behavioral and mental health issues, has been sealed by the courts for the last eight years. Yesterday, it played in open court during his trial against the Judge Rotenberg Center.I haven't watched the video in question. I've heard enough about the JRC that I felt that I didn't need to do so. I would like to keep my food down today. So I'm just going to assume it is triggering and move from there. Tags: autism, links, psa, videos
I'm feeling:  predatory
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And would you believe, not a speck of artificial coloring?That's a short post, isn't it? Today (Wednesday) we went to the Bronx Zoo. Under any circumstances, this is a long trip. Bus to the boat. Walk to the train. Take the train all the way uptown and into the Bronx. Ye gods. The zoo is right by the train stop, apparently, but that's the only close thing. I decided that the best train to take was the 5. I could take the 2 up, but that either meant a longer walk or transferring at Chambers and I wanted to avoid a transfer. We got all the way into the Bronx (but still several stops from our destination) when we found out the 5 wasn't running all the way and we had to take the 2 anyway. So we went with the crowd to the only staircase all the way at the other end of the platform. And we waited. And we waited. And the 2 came, and we all got on, and 60 seconds later we all got off as the driver announced "LAST STOP". Yes, he waited until we were all on to do that. Three "LAST STOP" announcements later and the train pulled out, totally devoid of passengers. Got on the next train which, due to construction, was going to skip our stop by one stop. Luckily somebody pointed us in the right direction so we could walk rather than transferring again - though really, as he pointed out, the whole horde of kids were all going in the same direction anyway. See, of course, it's spring break here. And Wednesdays are free at the Bronx Zoo. God, I knew it was a crazy idea, but I was bound and determined to get there. Got there, waited on line. And waited on line. And waited on line. Periodically one of the staff would try to entice us off the line and onto one of the two machines selling Total Experience tickets, which allow you to do all the special attractions for free all day long, but nobody was buying. We weren't cruel enough to say so, but I don't think anybody would've been there if it hadn't been "suggested donation". Finally got into the zoo! And we went here, and we went there, and the nieces learned quite a bit about why the huge rocks all over uptown parks (and the Bronx) have deep gouges in them, and they even learned a little bit about animals! Unlike some people, I insist they actually learn the correct name of any animal they're looking at and that we find out at least ONE thing about ONE animal in each area of the zoo. Otherwise we're done too fast, even at a big place like that. Also, unlike some people, when we see hamsters (yes, the same sort you get in pet stores!) or turtles chasing each other down (which is strangely endearing when it comes to the turtles) and then climbing on top of one another, I don't pass it off as "playing", awkward as the timing is. So they really did learn something, I guess! Only two things marred the day. First, in the Mouse House (which was insanely crowded and very dark, so the nieces had to be right by me at all times, sad to say) I had to tell one kid - twice! - stop banging on the glass. The nieces were shocked and horrified because "He's not your kid!" but he was banging on the glass of those poor rodents. Tapping would be bad enough, but it wouldn't cause me to bolt across the room like I did, and he had to have been in or at least near his teens, which is definitely old enough to know better. The second time I told him flat-out that if it happened again I'd get security. This was a lie, of course, because I had no way to track security down before he left, but it worked, which is the important thing. The other thing is Ana didn't get her camel ride. The day was overcast, so it was hard to tell how late it was getting. I'd said we'd do all treats at the end of the day so we knew how to budget our money. It's terrible to spend all your money on cotton candy and then find out later you could've gotten your face painted, and I didn't want to hear whining all day long if that happened. It was my money anyway. And then we got a bit turned around, and by the time we got turned right the zoo closed! I apologized profusely (so much so that Ana didn't whine at all) and promised that next time (probably in June, near the end, when it's bound to be more educational to go to the zoo than to sit in class with 22 other kids and a teacher who were mentally done with school a month ago) we'll do a camel ride first thing to make up for it. I really felt that bad! I still do. Poor Ana! For a free day it really cost quite a bit of money in the end! Not on treats (although one exhibit unexpectedly was $4 per person, and once we were in I didn't want to drag the nieces out again), but at the end of the day. I'd planned ahead and brought food along with the mantra "I packed a lunch/snacks so that we wouldn't have to spend our money on their food", but I simply hadn't packed enough or a big enough variety! And there weren't nearly enough water fountains in the park, so their juices didn't go that far. Then by the time we left, I realized that what I'd planned for dinner would take too long to cook. ANY time would be too long to cook! Lesson learned: Pre-prep dinner and pack more food. And also, when one animal is chasing (or diligently plodding) after another, there's a reason for it!
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retreat.... 
bouncy![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1){kind=small}
