Holy crap, that's my cat!

I think I've finally figured out what breed of cat Cady is (as much as she's anything but mutt, I mean). I saw a picture of a blue Bengal today and went, "Holy crap, that's my cat." If you look at the pictures . . . she looked exactly like that one on the left in the first picture on that age. That's her coloration, and the description of the kittens as "battleship grey" is spot on, pardon the pun.

I spent weeks trying to figure out what she was when I bought her, because her markings are blotchier than tabby and her colors are reversed. Her patterning is not as clear, but I think it's this marble pattern that's distinctly different from your classic tabby.

Quote of the Week

"We don't need a risk-free world. We are the monsters, we are the artists and lovers. We need pain and suffering as much as we need air, as much as we need each other."

--source unknown

Dem Bones

There is a location in Tucson the locals call "the boneyard." I have no idea what its proper name is. It's a storage facility for military aircraft not currently in use. I saw a spot on it on Arizona Highways while I was over at my parents' house, just recently. So now I know odd bits of trivia. For example, it's not just where old airplanes go to die. They're being stored against future use.

Why Tucson? In the middle of the desert, metal doesn't rust. What's more, we have a phenomenon out here called caliche: it's a kind of a natural cement that forms not far beneath the topsoil. I mean, this stuff is so tough that if you've got to dig a hole through it, you need an airhammer. I'd never stopped to think, but that makes it a perfect place to park heavy aircraft without having to first pack and pave the area.

I drove by it yesterday on my way to do some out of town fixes. We've had so much rain recently that grass has sprouted everywhere. Even on the field that is the boneyard. Imagine all these aging military aircraft in their varying shades of grey and drab . . . in the middle of a grassy field.

"Where have all the graveyards gone?
Gone to flowers, every one."

Please don't hug the flowers.

Pete read my last blog post. All my bitching and moaning. He sent me flowers. I love my boyfriend.

I left them at work, figuring I need the cheering up more there than at home. I can tell I'm on the end of my reserves, because I'm unreasonably emotional and exhibit a strong tendency to look at them and smile and sniffle a little. In the physical absence of the sender, I have an absurd desire to hug the flowers.

Not your typical computer geek?

Conan the Barbarian You scored 58 con resolution, 72 assertiveness, and 73 action!

Man, you get right to it, don't you? You don't know how you're going to fix the problem, but that doesn't keep you from tackling it. You eat food like a pig and probably have sex like one, too. Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with either of these things. Some women love a man who is just pure animal, especially in bed. Growwwwl!!!....Crom...

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 99% on con resolution You scored higher than 99% on assertiveness You scored higher than 99% on action

Link: The What Type Action Hero Are You Test written by Caradavina on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Appreciated

Someone just said something very important to me: "I appreciate you."

In my profession, you hear "thank you" a lot. We fix problems. Thank you is an appropriate response. But a lot of times, an appropriate response is all it feels like. Like we're cogs in the wheel, the little automatons that go out and fix things so that everybody else can get work done.

But today, somebody appreicates us.

Somehow, that's an entirely different thing.

Flagpole Sitta

I tweaked my knee on Saturday. The chiropractor fixed it for me today. It hurts.

I'm sitting in my office, shivering and exhausted. To quote a Harvey Danger song, "I'm not sick, but I'm not well." I've had a candy bar and a pack of cookies this morning, between the fatigue and having come in to a mail server problem.

Since you asked, the reason I'm at work in this condition is that our network admin has walked; our temporary network admin was hospitalized yesterday and is at home, recovering, today; and my boss is working from home to take care of some personal stuff (and, incidentally, trying to get resumes read so we can re-hire the long-empty Phoenix position). That pretty much leaves me.

Last week was a day in Flagstaff and two days in the Phoenix-metro area. I'm supposed to be in Payson, Tempe, and Wilcox this week. That'd be rough in a normal week. As it stands, I'm not scheduling anything until I have a better idea what's going on with our temporary network admin.

I was getting so close to the magic 170 lb. mark. Again.

My cats have missed me. We had to have lie on mom time before bed, yesterday. They were just too nervy to settle down, otherwise.

I had time in the same city as my boyfriend this past weekend, with a bed that would accomodate both of us . . . and spent it lying flat, waiting for the room to stop spinning. The following night, I slept for 14 hours. We're going to Bisbee for Labor Day weekend. I like to hope that, by the time I get there, I don't spend the whole time being tired and ill.

I bought really great boots. Once I find an excuse to wear them, I'll post some pictures. Could be a little while, at the rate I'm going.

When did I last see the dentist?

Somebody I am too lazy to look up right now once said, "I am a spiritual being having a physical experience." Right now, the physical experience is so wracking that it strongly overshadows the spiritual. And that, sooner or later, is likely to catch up with me.

Forecast: Continued Quietude from Journey

Our network administrator walked on Thursday.

I hope he didn't let the door hit him in the ass on the way out.

Updates may continue to be very thin for the foreseeable future.

Quote of the Week

"Sometimes, just sometimes, sentient bipedal creatures with large frontal lobes, a sense of community and opposable thumbs can make things on their own. The rest of the time they spend destroying it."

--T.Oni

Quote of the Week

"My second emergency room in less than two hours. . . . Good news was that none of the injuries were mine. Bad news was that that might change."

--Anita Blake, in Burnt Offerings, by Laurell K. Hamilton

Do something good today.

If you can, anyway. https://shop.thehungersite.com/store/item.do?siteId=220&itemId=29377&origin=80004 There are more options at the bottom of the page. The Hunger Site is reputable, and their payment processing is reliable--I've ordered some things from them before. I can think of a lot of worse ways to spend twenty bucks.

Quote of the Week

"My grandfather once told me that there are two kinds of people: Those who do the work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group; there was much less competition."

--Indira Ghandi, former Prime Minister of India

From a friend's LJ.

You can blame Tashiro for this one.

Hah. I'd wondered.

Hey, I finally have an explanation for why my usual route to work is still closed. Check out the top-right picture. That's the stretch of road I need to cross. Sure enough, the caption says part of the roadbed washed away.

If you want to see some really great pictures of the flooding and the aftermath, check the link right below it. I particularly like the last one.

By the way, I'll be out of town for the next few days. A friend of Pete's is getting married, and we're driving out for the wedding. Yay, I get to be arm candy. ;) I'll post a Quote of the Week when I get back.

I love my car.

Wow, more flooding excitement. Today was flash flooding, which wasn't notable except that at five minutes till three, I was notified that they were sending us all home. Right that minute. I looked at the executive assistant, who had warned me earlier that severe weather was expected because she remembered that it cuts off my route home, and said, "Oh. We're flooding here?"

Yeah, we were flooding there. I don't know if it was coming into the building (though the roof leaks, badly)--I guess I'll find out tomorrow. But I dutifully rolled up my pant legs to a height of about ten inches, glad that I wore my hiking sandals today instead of my sneakers, and prepared to wade out to my car. I should've rolled them a third time. I waded through a good twelve inches of water in the parking log, thoroughly soaking the cuffs of my jeans, and opened the door to my car. A quick-and-unavoidable comparison made me glad I was leaving then, because another inch would've had water flowing in over the "doorsill."

Of course, my co-worker who was up in Phoenix, having left her car for a corporate van, drives a Mazda Protege. I don't know how it came through, and I didn't have a way to move it. All I could do was call her and let her know. She was going to call her husband and have him come try to retrieve it.

If I'd still owned my Neon, I don't think I could've started the car. As it was, I was ecstatic when my PT's engine turned over. I backed quickly and carefully out, turned into the side lot, and discovered it was almost as deep over there. A number of people wading to their vehicles obviously had not had the same luck with shoes that I did. The parking lot was a freakin' lake. Our office is located in a small valley . . . with storm drains that turn out to be completely inadequate. The driveway coming down was a river. I turned out of the lake, into the river. The river ran into, not another river, but a second lake, formed where the road dips.

Now, my usual strategy for getting through flooded-out areas is to build up some speed and let Newton drive to get across. I had to make a right turn into the lake. No momentum. I could feel the resistance of the water as I made the turn . . . and the wheels caught, and had traction, and I drove slowly out of the lake. My PT has a couple more inches of ground clearance than my Neon did, and is perhaps 500 lbs. heavier. I love my car.

Driving home on the one route I knew would be open was still hairy. It was open, but there were some fairly significant washes coming downhill on Sabino Mountain (I think that's the name if it, anyway), and a number of people driving in front of me on Kolb who just could not be induced to do more than twenty miles an hour, tops. The lightning was coming down so directly overhead that thunder ceased to be thunder, and began to be more like a small tear in the universe. By the time I hit Sunrise, it was raining so hard I thought I might have to pull off the road for sheer visibility difficulties.

Every mile or so along the way, I found myself saying, "I love my car." We didn't swamp, we didn't lose traction, the wipers ran fine, the windows didn't fog. When I parked in my very own parking lot, I pulled down the visor and kissed her. I love my car.