Cat Trauma

Ants were marching from our deck to the kitchen.

I put a line of cinnamon on the deck to repel the ants.

The cat woke up and began to heave up a hairball.

I put the cat on the deck to keep her hairball off the carpets.

The cat landed in the cinnamon.

The cat got scared and fat-tailed and mo-hawked.

I let the fat-tailed, mo-hawked cat back inside.

I chased the fat-tailed, mo-hawked cat up the stairs.

I tried to put the fat-tailed, mo-hawked, yowling cat into a sink full of water.

I almost lost an eye.

I used a washcloth to wipe the cinnamon off the fat-tailed, mo-hawked, yowling, damp cat.

The cat went back to sleep.

The ants are still in the kitchen...

Blog to the Future

For some reason, micro-blogging (140 characters or less) has become quite popular while mega-blogging has not. 

But why stop at micro-blogging? Can't we please make it more X-TREME??! 

Assuming smaller=cooler, than nano-blogging > microblogging.

So why aren't you nano-blogging?  Probably, because you aren't cool enough. If you were really cool, you would already be making one-word blog posts using a platform such as Adocu.

But wait... if smaller=cooler, and nano-blogging > microblogging, than pico-blogging>nano-blogging!!

So where are the pico-bloggers? Where are the brave pioneers, posting charming, one character messages for the world to ponder?  O! Economical communication! You have come this far, why not a little further?

Here are some other types of blogs I would like to see in the future:

Quantum Blog

Anti-Blog

Shadow Blog (Sblog?)

Roblog (Why make robotic vacuum cleaners when you could be making robotic bloggers?)

 

Scary things on the beach

Tragic

Besides the 4 explosions of feathers that once were seagulls, there were a few other disturbing things at Cape Henlopen this weekend.

I guess Poseidon doesn't like to play with Barbies.

Migrating Pirahna?!?

Comic

Scene: The pier at Cape Henolopen

N: (looking down) Hmm.. There's an awful lot of porcelain here...or, uh, broken dinner plates. 

J: (looking around) Broken dinner plates?? What broken dinner plates? Are you talking about the broken seashells??

N: Seashells?

J: Dinner plates?? 

These pilings next to the pier would make for a great fight scene...

Another Childhood Fear Revisited: Afterlifes

From other entries in this blog, you may think that I was only afraid of unlikely things as a child: black holes, sinkholes, tar pits, carnivorous dinosaurs, everyone in the world having telepathy except for me.... 

But this is not true, I was also afraid of something quite likely, inevitable, even.

DEATH!!!

Specifically, as a child,  I was afraid of a variety afterlifes, such as:

Heaven

Why: 

-Because I didn't know anyone there except for my Great-Grandmom and I didn't know what I would say to her except to thank her for the unicorn she gave me before she died. How would I ever keep up a conversation until someone else I knew died??

-Because I wouldn't be able to take anything with me (Would there be Legos in Heaven?? No one told me!)

-Because it would last for an ETERNITY (When I figured out what eternity actually meant, this sent a serious chill through my spine).

Reincarnation

Why:

-Because what if when I got reincarnated, I kept all the memories of my previous life and felt sad when I couldn't reconnect with people I used to know

-Because I didn't want to forget everything! That would be like it never happened!

-Because I might have ended up as a slug or an ant or some other dissapointing creature

Purgatory/Ghosts/Lost Spirits

Why:

-Because what if my family couldn't see me, even though I was there, trying to talk to them? 

-What if a lot of the other beings in my dimension were devious and evil, like I'd heard?

Regaining Concsciousness after Death/Premature Burial

Why:

-Decomposing can't feel good

-Maybe reading Edgar Allen Poe short stories as a kid wasn't that great of an idea....

-I'm claustrophobic

Well, there you have it. Now you are probably all wondering what sort of bizarre religious upbringing I must have had, or what, if any fears I still retain. 

Let's just say that I would totally prefer cremation...

...just in case.....

Write or Die + Gears of War= New Blog Post??

I've been playing with an application called, "Write or Die." ("Putting the Prod in Productivity") It's a writing motivation tool that flashes angry red or plays annoying music if you pause too long while you're typing.

I tried it out while Nam was playing "Gears of War 2." Since I was writing 'off the top of my head,' you may notice how this influenced my umm...'stories.' You may also notice that I don't really understand the plot of "Gears of War." Oh well.

Here are some very short stories for you:

Lost in the Snow

Let's go right. Up the stairs. Icicles hang from the doorway, threatening to stab me. I hate it when they do that. So I break one off and eat it. It tastes like water. Very cold, very hard water.

I am off to a horrible start, as usual. This damn school looks like a maze. Probably, because it is one. I don't know who thought it'd be a good idea to build a school within a labyrinth, but I'd like to meet them and then make them stand under these threatening icicles.

I step onto the bridge and look at the pathways that meander in incomprehensible patterns below me. Is my class somewhere down there? I can't remember.

A snowflake falls on my cheek, I brush it off quickly. Crystals seriously freak me out. I am going to be late for my class, but I am not worried. I have not been able to find my class for three months now. Not since it started snowing. I swing my legs over the side of the bridge and jump off. I fall, faster than a snowflake (this is not a vacuum) and land in a snowdrift. I think about all of the crystalline structures I have just destroyed, and smile.

Cookies

I'm set. I'm ready to go. I've just loaded a bunch of freshly baked cookies into my cookie gun and I am totally ready to make some new friends.

I walk on the lumpy street, Yrti told me people call it "cobblestone." How cute.

I pause to admire a tree with delicate white flowers. I pluck one of the blooms and tuck it into my helmet. I don't know what it is about this planet, but ever since I landed here, my mood has just been soaring. I'm giddy like a child, I feel happy....I feel free. I dance down the street. I know my heavy, cumbersome muscles can't possibly convey the joy and lightness of my spirit, but I don't care. I even try to whistle, but it sounds more like a growl.

And then I see them, the humans! Yes! We are totally going to be friends. I pull out my cookie gun and set it to maximum-decadence. I smile and get ready to unleash a ray of buttery goodness. My finger is at the trigger, but something stops me.

The humans are making a noise, they are waving their arms about. Are they dancing? Yes! I think they are! They can't wait for the cookies! I won't make them wait any longer. I pull the trigger--but--no... Something is wrong! Something has gone horribly wrong! Those weren't cookies-- Oh god! Oh no! They're not moving! They're all-- No! This wasn't supposed to happen! I didn't want to-- My friends! Why?!!