A Secret History

• 20:32 Spencer knocked over @tutordennis's mini Zen sand garden, in a very un-sagelike maneuver. He does not seem to have achieved enlightenment. #
• 20:37 The tiny bodhisattva head seems to have rolled down the radiator vent, however, perhaps enlightening the raccoons in our basement. #

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• 16:13 Oatmeal is goooood. @tutordennis really outdid himself on this last batch. Fresh-grated nutmeg, the works. #
• 16:16 The dear Bengal, sometimes aka the Bane of my Existence, loves to recline on my laptop. So I gave her a heating pad, which she adores. But! #
• 16:28 I left my Macbook for a nanosec, and she abandoned the pad just to sit on it! (And in doing so sent the Girl a rather confusing IM. Hee.) #
• 16:38 All glowy. And I don't think it's the narcotics. *hums a little hum* #
• 17:13 SF clinic offers free medical care for dance-related injuries:
  tinyurl.com/yo7q8m/c/a/2009/01/31/BA9U15JMCA.DTL #
• 23:41 @cosmos_moon: The glow of a tiny fire for you: www.flickr.com/photos/nullalux/sets/72157594563264721/detail/ #

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• 10:14 Though spring, it did come slowly, I guess it did its part / my heart has thawed and continues to beat tinyurl.com/juneonthewestcoast #
• 10:21 Adorable photo of @tutordennis and his sweetie @karenbynight, wearing her knitted caps: www.flickr.com/photos/karenbynight/3194040858 #
• 10:56 Fussing with layout for Edwardian Ball program. It's a smashing event; you simply must attend: www.edwardianball.com/ #
• 12:46 @westwardho: Thinking good thoughts for you and kitty. #
• 14:01 Lenticular is my new fav word. I made: tinyurl.com/lenticularbranches from 2 of my pics, using: tinyurl.com/lenticularscript #
• 14:23 Gallery of Medical Marijuana (say what you will, it's a beautiful plant): www.cnbc.com/id/28561896 #
• 15:15 Microworld: Refractions in Liquid Drops photo set (really stunning images) flickr.com/photos/stuntbear/sets/72157603748918642/ #
• 15:32 Ordered new tags for the kitties (updated w/ @tutordennis's iPhone #). The OwnerAlert service is stellar, btw: luckypet.com/ #
• 16:16 Tomorrow, I have a date with bone saws and destiny: tinyurl.com/8g4rsl #
• 19:54 @bookwoman84: I hear the eyelid is the third-worst place to get a papercut. #

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Well, my new backyard pets are really very cool. I went out to check on them as soon as I got home from work; they'd obviously moved about on the plant, and were not expired, as we'd suspected yesterday. threetimes arrived soon after me, and we watched one of the caterpillars hoover down a substantial portion of a leaf. They have these neat spiracles (sort of like prolegs) with which they hold the leaf and direct it into their mouth-parts. The actual legs, meanwhile, are holding on to the branch/stem of the plant. I can't get over their size, but they're really are sort of attractive, as the above link claims. The lavender stripes are pretty, and they somehow blend in without making the caterpillar stand out on the plant at all. I mean, I couldn't find the second one without seeking for a good while (and it was just a few inches away from the first one the whole time). The horns on their rumps are delicately curved, and a striking magenta color. Apparently, they're supposed to thrash violently and regurgitate on their would-be captors when disturbed, but the horns are harmless. I don't aim to disturb them, myself. The shrub is staying for the time being.

I'm pleased with the trajectory of my feelings regarding the 'pillars. At first I was disturbed and more than a little weirded out by their size (!) and presence in "my" flower bed. This gave way to curiosity, and after some research, I became more than a little impressed by the critters. In fact, I was reading about some caterpillar parasites, and started to feel quite protective!

Why, oh why, must Spencer hop in the shower with me? Cats are not supposed to like water, are they? Madi likes to survey the tub after someone has showered, but Spence gets right in, under the spray and everything. Oimoi.

tutordennis and I saw Hero last night. I really enjoyed it, although I anticipate that lots of right-wing pro-war comparisons are being made between Bush and the Emperor of the Qin dynasty. Rather unfortunate timing. At first, I wasn't sure about the very strong color schemes used in the film, but then I decided that it's brilliant. As a long-time fan of Fong Sai-Yuk and old kung fu movies, it was fabulous to see Jet Li doing something other than the American movies he's been making here (which have without fail disappointed me). Speaking of disappointments, we saw the movie at Oakridge Mall. Walking past Hot Topic is always bizarre; as Dennis puts it, it's jarring to see "the commercialization of our childhoods" capsulized in a chain store. You may be able to market black jelly bracelets, Dickies, Manic Panic hair dye and Wet 'n Wild lipstick #508 to today's disaffected youth, but you can't sell punk rock, damn it. Yeah, we're old skool.

I've had a lovely feeling of well-being this past week or so. Perhaps it's due to school starting again. I'm not sure, but I'm enjoying it. I'm still a little sad about the past year, and all the changes and challenges we've been through. I don't object to change per se, but it's very difficult to revamp your both your daily life and your long-term plans without facing some disturbing questions regarding the nature of the self. When B and I decided that— despite our deep love and affection for each other—we could not be lifepartners, it was honestly done with each other's best interests in mind. I truly thought that we would continue to be there for each other, as real friends, perhaps even as sometime lovers. After nine years of happiness together, I thought it couldn't be otherwise. But after a brief period of 'weaning' (for lack of a better term), he forged such distance between us that my head still reels to think of it. Now I don't know who he is.

But I miss him. The 'him' I knew, the one that loved me and held my love dear, the one whose strengths and whose very weaknesses I adored. The one who said I'd better hurry up and finish school so that we could adopt chinky babies together. The person whose family adopted me as their own, the one I held when disease incited his body to mutiny (we were so frightened we'd be parted by his early death), and the one who booby-trapped my suitcases with stuffed monkeys when I went to conferences. That's how my heart works, and eight months later, I still don't know how to undo it. I'm grateful for my recent sense of well-being, but I'm confused that it hasn't lessened this other ache.

threetimes penned what I think is one of the most resonant eulogies that we could offer up for Sam. You may read it here, and here you'll find a photo of Sam and his bonded companion, our kitty Spencer.

The landlady walk-through yesterday went well; she ascertained that we hadn't burned the house to the ground or anything, and she liked the landscaping we've done. Geo and I took all of the bunnies for a bonding ride in the back of the Jimmy, and managed to bond Nina with the gruesome foursome (Henry, Chana, Naomi and Porcini); it's amazing how a bumpy trip and the indignity of having one's nails trimmed will make bunns forget their petty differences. However, Noa was too truculent, so she's still a solo. We finally had the old Honda towed, so we now have a two-car driveway again. I'm halfway through my second Christopher Moore title (probably the last of my summer reading), Fluke.

Now, with our tummies full of pasta, polenta, and wine, we're off to watch 1776. I think a quiet, snuggly evening at home sounds just right.

Talulah died this afternoon. threetimes and I were holding her in the vet office, waiting for the doctor. She fluttered, stiffened, relaxed, and was gone.

Home again, I need to keep my eyes and hands full. A clumsy translation of 3 Catullus, along with Talulah's memory, has occupied this last hour. I'll not think of the many hours to come.

Lugete, O Veneres Cupidinesque,
et quantum est hominum venustiorum:
passer mortuus est meae puellae,
passer, deliciae meae puellae,
quem plus illa oculis suis amabat.
Nam mellitus erat suamque norat
ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem,
nec sese a gremio illius movebat,
sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc
ad solam dominam usque pipiabat.
Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum
illuc, unde negant redire quemquam.
At vobis male sit, malae tenebrae
Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis:
tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis.
O factum male! O miselle passer!
Tua nunc opera meae puellae
flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli.

Mourn, Graces and Loves, 
and all those loved by such. 
The sparrow of my girl is dead, 
the sparrow, pet of my girl, 
whom she loved more than her eyes themselves; 
for he was honey-sweet, and knew her 
the same as a girl knows her mother. 
Not stirring from her lap, 
but hopping about here and there, 
he was continually cooing only to his mistress. 
Now he goes along a shadowy way, 
to a place from where they say no one returns. 
But curses on you, wicked shades 
of Orcus, who devour all things of beauty:
for you have taken away my beautiful sparrow. 
Oh, cruelty! Poor sparrow! 
Now all because of you, my girl's dear eyes 
are heavy and red with tears.

I have no doubt battered sense and syntax, and it is a poorer offering to the gods than knucklebones. But I wonder, did I live only to see so much death?

There are those who don't care for people posting memes in their LJs, but I've always thought that memes are what you make of them. I consider the results to be a springboard for discussion, or indicative of my character or personality in a way that I'd like to record in my journal. They can be thought-provoking, which is usually a good thing. And sometimes they're just darn funny.

You are Fiver!

Find out Which Watership Down Character you are.

Hmph. I'll have you know that 5'2" is a very good height to be, and not at all "runty." Apparently I'm the Watership Down equivalent of Kassandra (he's got that whole the-house-reeks-of-death-and-dripping-blood thing going on). The clairvoyant thing would be nice, if I had any respect for those sorts of claims, which I don't. Why couldn't I have been Blackberry, the lapine genius, or Blackavar, the wounded poet? Oimoi. Still and all, Watership Down remains one of my favorite books. I've always preferred it to other epics, such as Lord of the Rings.

In other news, I've just finished applying Soft Claws® to Madeleine's front paws. That was an experience, to put it mildly. Madi has always been vocal, and she lost no time in telling me exactly what she thought of the whole procedure; needless to say, she did not think highly of the idea. But I persevered, and with the help of a beach towel (the "kitty burrito" technique), her dragon-lady talons have been capped. The furniture, as well as threetimes's lap, is safe once more (until Madi manages to chew the caps off). I feel a Tick-like episode-ending speech coming on...

Link from whobunkyboo's journal:


Mean lil' fellow, aren't you?

What Monty Python Character are you?
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My bunnies are molting. No, it's not a euphemism, the rabbits really are shedding fur. Summer is waning, and it's sinking in that I actually have to go back to work in a couple of weeks. Nannying for the summer has been nice, although I am looking forward to getting back in the classroom for what will probably be my last year of teaching. I'm getting motivated for a last stab at my summer to-do list, and I feel a surge of energy coming on. Odd how worrying sucks up any impetus to be productive. You'd think you'd get more done because you find less joy in other activities when depressed. Well, en garde, lurking inventory of pending projects! I smite you with the pointed blade of intent!