...It's about my gift!

My son Justin bought my Christmas gift today, and has been torturing me with hints about it. The gift is:

• Heavier than a feather, lighter than a bowling ball.
  
  
• Bigger than a shoe box, smaller than a refrigerator; can definitely fit Mica in it(all 7 lbs, 12 oz of her).
  
  
• Can be used for home or office.
  
  
• Asks if you feel lucky.
  
  
• May take batteries (takes electricity, but has no cord - would be much bigger if it took electricity).
  
  
• Been around since the late 1800's.
  
  
• Could be used for decorative purposes.
  
  
• Unique.
  
  
• Trivial, but cooler for having one - cool factor of 9.9.
  
  
• Makes opening noises when you open the box (he made me listen to him open the box).
  
  
• Sometimes it makes sounds, sometimes it doesn't.
  
  
• Needs more pieces.
  
  
• The instructions have four figures.
  
  
• It is badass.
  
  
• He wants one.
  
  
• He may keep mine, and get me something else.(!)
  
  
• Makes a thumping noise when you tap on it.
  
  
• The surfaces are very clean (which is good because of what it is).
  
  
• It has an opening that clicks in place.
  
  
• Has five legs for support.
  
  
• May be a choking hazard.
  
  
• Six things; three that are silent, three that are noisy.
  
  
• Has two off/on switches.
  
  
• Has #1 Phillips head screws.
  
  
• All my friends are going to think it is cool.
  
  
• Will be tempted to show it off.
  
  
• It has psychedelic colors.
  
  
• There is a small tear in the box.
  
  
• You have to be careful when preparing this thing to get it to do what it does; in the process of getting it ready, you could break it (according to the instructions).
  
  
• No quality control sticker on it.
  
  
• Company that made it is based in Ohio, in a city with an ironic name, considering who the giftee is.
  
  
• Makes my son and his wife both think about bugs.
  
  
• There's a note on it (tells about usage of the product).
  
  
• Makes people angry when they go near them (causes aggravation for people).
  
  
• Most likely will not cause a seizure.
  
  
• Not a home planetarium, but could be if you modified it.
  
  
• Cost more than one, but less than $100 US.
  
  
• Some parts are clear, some parts are opaque.
  
  
• Plastic and metal.
  
  
• Ah, aahhh eeehh ehh, hnnnhhhh.(hint from Mica)
  

If anyone can guess what it is before midnight December 24, 2005, he will send them a present - to first person only. E-mail me with your guess.

striatic created a test for Quizilla


You are Bernadette.

You've had it rough, but under no circumstances
will you give or accept pity. People who
thought they could destroy your good looks by
shaving off your beautiful hair only managed to
highlight your gorgeous eyes and perfect bone
structure. Ever amused by irony & justified
suffering, you take people's prized
possessions and hide them or use them as
weapons.


Which_'Magdalene_Sister'_are_you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Why aren't you taking it?

My brush with greatness

I started a second job at an outdoor music venue. I got to be usher in the center of the house for the Herbie Hancock and the Headhunters show - John Mayer forgot the words to his own song (heh) but the rest of the show ROCKED. I had a bit of trouble before the show started...

As an usher, I direct people to their seats, and help elderly & handicapped when necessary. Otherwise, I just make sure everyone is having a good time (easy for me, I just do my usual silliness).

There was this elderly lady working with me. She couldn't remember which side of the aisle was 'B' and which was 'C'. She kept sending people to the wrong section, who we then had to sort out to their correct seats.

Well, there was this guy that had to move because he was in the wrong seat. He apologized and said he would find his correct seat before the show started (he was talking to the people in the row in front of him). A few minutes later, he had to be moved again. Right before the show started, I figured I had better go check his ticket to make sure he wouldn't have to be moved again during the show. I went over and asked him "Sir, may I see your ticket to make sure we have you in the right seat?"

He was upset that I asked him and not anyone else (thought I was profiling him?) but I explained that I just wanted to be sure we didn't have to disturb people during the show. Turns out he was in the correct seat, so I said "Thank you" and went back to seating people.

Suddenly, I hear "Hey you!". I finished helping the people I was with and went back to ask the man what I could do for him. He pointed to a woman two seats away and said "This lady thinks you owe me an apology". I said I was sorry I had to ask to see his ticket. We had to re-seat him twice, and I was just trying to make sure we had him in the proper seat. Then he said that I wouldn't have done that if I knew who he was.

...

So I asked. He was Wilbert Longmire.

Ok. Yes, I have one of his albums. Yes, I knew who he was (Googled a pic of him the next day to make sure he wasn't yanking my chain). But yes, I would have checked his ticket to make sure he was in the right damn seat. I was just doing my job.

So now, I have met Wilbert Longmire. And I think he is a dick.

Lepidoptera
Seasonal changes deeply affect several people close to me. As the weather begins to cool and the days get shorter, they seem to build a cocoon around themselves. I see them around less frequently, until suddenly they are gone. This lasts about four to five months in these northern climes, during which I feel their absence like a bricked over window. But then small miracles happen. That glorious morning comes when the sun radiantly bathes you in a gentle warmth, when you shed your heavy coat and notice birds again. Hearts lighten along with the hemisphere. That is when my friends emerge as the butterflies they truly are. Welcome back my dears, I have missed you so!

Test post(trying to fix stuff).
Whoops!

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

I know it has been a long time. I am temporarily at my parents' house back in Ohio. I hope to be able to travel again, soon.

My parents have a farmhouse in a sort of desolate area. There are fields all around it, so animals are attracted to the yard & buildings for shelter after harvest. Raccoons have been tearing up the roof & soffits to get into the attic, so my dad bought a live trap. My sister's boyfriend has been taking care of setting the traps while my dad has been ill. Yesterday, I discovered a skunk in the trap. I felt bad for it (they eat the grubs in the lawn that attract moles, so I consider it a beneficial animal) and fed it a piece of chicken but otherwise gave it a wide berth, because I did not know if it would spray me if I got close (I dropped the chicken through the bars of the cage).

Today, I felt really bad for the poor skunk. It was raining, and he was getting soaked. I decided spray or not, I was going to set him free; so I opened the door of the cage, but he didn't come out.

I thought maybe he was weak from being in the trap with little food, so I threw another piece of chicken towards the cage. Unfortunately, I missed, and it landed just outside the bars, but he started picking pieces off. I figured maybe he was afraid of me, so I went in the house, and watched out the window to see if he left the cage. That is when my sis & her boyfriend showed up.

He had brought a gun to shoot the skunk. I tried to sway him to just let the skunk walk away, because I had already started to entertain ideas of befriending it and possible names for it, but he said that it wasn't leaving the cage, and it might be rabid, so it was best if I just go in the house. I was going to protest more, but I didn't have an immediate answer to the rabies argument. Inside, I remembered that rabid animals have a great need for water, and then it dawned on me that the poor thing hadn't had anything to drink except rain for at least two days, so I started filling a container with water. I figured that would get it out of the cage, and give us a better chance to see how it acted. As I was filling the bowl, I heard the shot. I just tipped the water back out, and went into the other room.

The first shot didn't kill. It just knocked the skunk farther back into the cage and triggered the door to close again. The second, third & fourth shots didn't faze it either. Neither did the next six. When the boyfriend came inside the house, I asked him if he had finally hit it, or was he gonna have to reload. He laughed but then said that it must be super skinny and all fluffy fur, because it just kept moving. He said if the next shot didn't get it, he was just going to go home, because it wasn't from this world if it could survive all that. By that time, I was just wanting it to be over. I just thought the poor thing was being tortured. He finally got it with the fourteenth shot - he hit the skunk in the face, and took half its head off.

Skunks spray when they die. They spray a lot. So now tonight, everything has a sulfur smell, and I have a constant reminder of something I am not proud of. The next one I know I will set free immediately. If I wear leather gloves, I should be safe from being bitten. I think. Wish me luck.