Stephanie has a new fuzzy companion besides my back and shoulders¹, her new pet degu, Cosmo².
Now, to play Jack Hanna for a moment (sans khaki). A degu is a Chilean rodent—sort of like a poor man’s Chinchilla. Or, as Steph likes to say, “If a hamster, a rat and a Chinchilla had a baby.” She may even have thrown raccoon in there too. Regardless, Cosmo has plenty of what experts call, Cute.
What makes a degu a rather fun pet is they are, unlike hamsters, very social. At this point, after hours spent bribing Cosmo with oats, he will happily hop into Steph’s hands and hang out. Cosmo is a far cry from Steph’s late hamster, Melon, who wanted nothing to do with her.
The biggest change for me is getting re-accustomed to Steph talking to someone else while I am visiting. Her cooing whispers of “Who’s a pretty boy?” are no longer merely directed at me. My fragile ego is having difficulty adjusting.
The worst of it came over the weekend. After dinner, Steph said, “Are you fat? Or are you just growing up?” I was nearly in tears before I realized she was addressing Cosmo. To add salt to the wound, this happened only a few hours after my unsuccessful attempt to buy a new pair of jeans. Trying on jeans immediately after the holidays is not the best thing for one’s self-esteem.
I think the jeans people (“Big Denim”) change the sizes every few months. Sure, it may have said 32, but it didn’t fit like the 32s I wore to the store. They are, of course, in cahoots with the weight loss/gym cabal (“Big Skinny”). Think about it: Big Denim alters the jeans sizes, a rube (Me), believes they have gained a few extra pounds, and then thinks “Dang! I better get to the gym!” and Big Skinny benefits. Then, after a few months of weight loss meetings and gym memberships, said rube (Me), buys a NEW pair of jeans.
One hand washes the other. It all makes so much sense. Wake up, Sheeple!
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¹ During the Summer, when I am clad in a tank top and shorts, I am often confused for a werewolf, or a short Bigfoot.
² From “Cosmos.” Steph is a fan of NASA, science fiction and Outer Space. I have yet to find out her feelings on Innerspace, however.
After a few days of Monday’s Finger, I decided to change the name of the blog (again) to Clattertron. Monday’s Finger wasn’t sitting right with me, and my gut feelings about that sort of stuff are usually for the best.
read more…
I’m a busy person, and things just fall through the cracks: birthdays, oil changes, bail hearings and such. Save for perhaps Ryan Gosling,* no one is perfect, which is why I can find Apple+Z on a Windows keyboard with my eyes closed.
A recent example of my less than Gosling nature was when it came time to hang my brand new 2012 Detroit Red Wings calendar (thanks, Mom). I was embarrassed to see my 2011 Detroit Red Wings calendar was still stuck on January. Oops. But, given the featured player for the month was Pavel Datsyuk, forgetting to turn the page wasn’t so bad.
Then, I opened my 2012 calendar and saw Datsyuk was once again Mr. January.
PHOTO
Crappy cellphone photo is crappy.
I’m glad to see he is at least on the opposite side of the page this year. Related: the Wings play the Leafs on Saturday. Looking forward to that one.
Speaking of the Leafs, I wonder if Tomas Kaberle and Tyler Seguin sent Leafs GM Brian Burke a Thank You card after winning the Stanley Cup with Boston? No, perhaps not.
Coming in 2013 (pending a delay in the Apocalypse/Ragnarok/Goslingeddon, mind you), “Well, I did it AGAIN.”
* Did you SEE Drive? My favorite film of 2011 without “Chip” in the title.
I love surprises, which is why I always keep my eyes closed in a voting booth.* I really love surprise gifts (unless it is a crying basket on my doorstep. Please, three times is plenty).
In a footnote for I Think My Mother Is Trying to Tell Me Something, I mentioned how my friend Erik sent me a Christmas gift. This was, in fact, a surprise, as Erik lives dozens of miles away in the quaint little town of San Francisco, CA (or KA for you Brad Pitt fans), while I reside in the sprawling metropolis of Lansing, MI.
The gift in question was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle film archive. Yes, all four features, including the CGI-animated TMNT.
As to why, in Erik’s own words:
“I look at Christmas as an opportunity to buy for someone something they wouldn’t necessarily purchase for themselves.”
The original TMNT film is something of an inside joke for us (and others within our social circle). We constantly quote the film**. When the package showed up in my PO Box, I immediately ripped it open, and was given a rather wide berth by the other Post Office patrons, as I broke into a fit of laughter.
Perhaps the best part was the note inside: “What Russian novel, embracing more than 500 characters takes place during the Napoleonic War? MERRY CHRISTMAS!”
It really is the thought that counts when it comes to gift giving–which has become a constant refrain of Stephanie’s, when she brings up my giving her a cutting board for Valentine’s Day***.
* = On a related note, I am also a fan of horror films.
** = EX: “Cricket? You gotta know what a crumpet is before you can play cricket!,” “Ninja vanish!,” “Wise man say, never pay full price for late pizza,” etc. We were very popular in college.
***= Which should come as no surprise from someone who’s father once gave his mother a mop bucket for Christmas.
A Twitter exchange with one @MichiganJake, on one of my favorite subjects: duck husbandry Galaga.
Social Media!
Much to the enjoyment of my neighbors, Stephanie, bless her heart, bought me a ukulele for Christmas. [GeekMom has an informative post on 'a' or 'an' ukulele - Ed.]
A uke is an interesting instrument, as it causes an immediate reaction from my social circle, which varies depending on one’s age/generation/blood alcohol level.
Mom, aunts and uncles: “Can you play any Tiny Tim yet?”
Stephanie, sister, cousins and friends: “Can you play any Zooey Deschanel yet?”
And then, Dad: “Can you play Big Bottom yet?”
There are times when my mother can be as subtle as a Molotov cocktail.
On New Year’s Day, I received a phone call from my friend, Erik. He had spent the holiday in New Orleans and was calling to tell me he was now engaged to his girlfriend, Emily.* “I wanted to tell you personally before it went out on Facebook,” he said. Erik had kicked off 2012 a bit better than myself, as all I had accomplished so far was getting killed by monsters in Resident Evil 4.
Later in the day, I called Mom and told her the news about Erik. There was a pause on her side, “Did you tell Stephanie?” [non-fiancée – Ed.]
“Yes, I sent her a text.”
Mom continued, with a noticeable growl in her voice. “Was she annoyed?”
I paused Resident Evil 4. “Huh?
“Well, before your father proposed to me, I got upset when our friends got engaged.”
I un-paused Resident Evil 4, aimed and blew the head off a not-zombie. “…Right.”
“Costco sells rings you know.”
“You don’t say.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with a pawn shop ring, either.”
On my TV, I watched Leon, the hero of Resident Evil 4, get crushed by a huge monster called El Gigante, and I could not help but envy him.
* = An amusing footnote: Just before Christmas, Erik texted me to ask for my address, and I jokingly inquired if they were sending out Save the Date’s. In fact, he sent me the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Movie Collection. More on this later.
Simple, right? When I cook, I have a sort of sixth sense about what I should, or should not, include in a recipe, and it typically never fails (although it did lead to my infamous BBQ Bay Leaf Stir-Fry Pasta).
My Cooky Sense tingled while I threw chunks of veggies and scoops of lentils into the slow cooker. In my freezer, I had bones from a rotisserie chicken. I took a page from the Carl Weathers School of Cooking (as seen in Arrested Development), and kept the bones, because, to paraphrase Carl, there was still plenty of meat on the bones and could be used to get “a stew goin’.”
I pulled the collection of bones from my freezer, which resembled something from The Thing (the old The Thing, not the new The Thing), and hurled a few into the slow cooker.
After a few hours my soup, like a Kardashian marriage, was finished. Each spoonful tasted great, and also brought me closer to my own doom. I was watching Burn Notice an educational program while eating, so my eyes were not on the contents of my spoon.
Then I felt it (no, not presence of my old master)—something like a rock in my mouth, which rolled its way to the back of my throat. I hacked and gagged, and after a spit-take any Stooge would be proud of, a chunk of bone sailed across the room and plinked against my TV screen.
While I had meant to only use the larger leg bones, I had apparently grabbed a few of the smaller, easier to swallow bones too. In this case, a vertebra—and thankfully, a chicken vertebra (you never know).
I told this story to Stephanie [girlfriend - Ed.], and she merely shook her head, as she is prone to do when I explain Anything to her. “Why didn’t you just boil the bones in a separate pot and pour the liquid in the soup?”
I only shrugged, and went to work deboning the remaining gallon of soup.
While walking downtown this past week, a man asked me if I had 75 cents. I did not, as all of my quarters are either in the gullet of the nearest washing or Galaga machine (or in some glorious alternate reality, the same machine). “Have a nice day,” the man said as he walked passed. He asked a woman behind me for 75 cents as well, and when she gave him a similar answer, he replied with “Have a nice f—ing day.”
I tell ya, senators aren’t as polite as they used to be.*
*I hope you have enjoyed my first Terrible Joke of 2012.
I don’t know what it is about old buildings, or buildings in general, but I enjoy them as a subject for photos. Especially doors. Maybe my subconscious is telling me I need to listen to Morrison Hotel more often.
This was taken in Old Town, Lansing during the Scott Kelby Worldwide Photo Walk.
"Yes, the lines and the value of the contrast embody the true Feelings of the artist: the search for the white door inside all of us. Open it, won't you?"
F16 (Fighting Falcon?), 50mm, 1/255 sec, ISO 100
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Links to my Other Stuff and Things:
Geek Speak – Walk Like a Man to Jersey Boys
Ginger and the Geek – Podcast 035
