Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Help me, teenage Jesus

What I've been doing a.k.a., why I should be committed.

First morning: WTF is that noise? Oh, five newborn kittens screeching in my garden.
First day evening: WTF is with all the noise? Yo, MamaCat, fucking attend to the needs already.
First night: She'll be back any second now. Earplugs.
Second Morning: OH fuckitalltohell MFA (my future activist) heard the kittens.
Second Afternoon: Denial isn't working, slut isn't coming back. MFA is in tears, fix it MOM, it's like, your job. Gah.
Damn cat couldn't have abandoned them in the neighbors garden?

grumble grumble grumble I don't even like cats grumble grumble grumble grumble grumble I'm very allergic grumble grumble grumble grumble grumble spay and neuter fuckers! grumble grumble grumble grumble

So I head out to the garden and gather up five very cold, very hungry kittens whose eyes have just barely opened and are still that newborn blue color. And possibly felt a little bad about them sitting there for two days.

I went to my vet and bought kitty milk replacer, a box of vet nipples (seriously, that's what the box says and I crack up every time I think about that fall harvest).

I've been feeding the brats about every two hours and taking Benadryl every 4-6.
It took me until late in the third day, when the little fuzzy fuckers wouldn't SHUT UP, to remember that very young kittens need help going number 1 & 2.
Oops.
But then they slept for five hours straight.

My Golden retriever is terrified of them and they completely stress my Wonder Mutt out, she sits by the laundry basket they are in, and whines. Which is a nice accompaniment to the screeching.

I called the local Humane Society and they will take them, with a charge of $25 each. Then they will euthanize them because they aren't equipped/staffed to deal with newborn kittens.
Um, ME NEITHER fuckwads.

This is the fifth day and I'm remembering why I had a tubal ligation.

Verily I say unto my children, There will be no naming! (spoken in a "Moses holding the ten commandments" voice), not even Tom or Jerry as MFA suggested. There will be no getting attached! There will be no tender fuzzy feelings!
It's totally working, right? RIGHT? Bueller?

There are two orange tabbies, two grey stripeys and one black and white runt and they already associate my voice with FOOD! Which is kind of cute in a non-attaching sort of way.

Shut up Phoebe.

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Saturday, September 08, 2007

Silence

I too, am very sad about the passing of Pavarotti.
Even though I rejected most of the things that were "acceptable Mormon outlets", while growing up, Pavarotti somehow, made the cut.
I spent a large portion of my evening, weepy, watching the Pavi on youtube.

At the same time, there are people just as important as him, in more subtle, different ways, dying every day and it's not in the news.
No one notices, not even the people that should.

It's been made very clear at my work, that I'm not paid to care.
Seven years later, the charge nurse still tells me I'd make a lousy nurse, "I care too much and have an unrealistic work ethic."
I'm paid to wipe butts, kiss administration ass, and could I fucking conform already?

The point is... once in a while when I do actually have a point.... sometimes I feel like I'm the only witness to the silencing of an amazing talent/voice/person/perspective/history.
One example: (of many) A beautiful lady who was a trained, accomplished concert pianist and then retired and gave lessons in her home town with a long waiting list.
When I first met her, she was blind but could sit at the piano and play anything anyone suggested from memory.
The other residents delighted in her playing their every request after dinner.
When I went in to help her get ready for bed at night, and tucked her in, I always left her doing her finger exercises in bed.
When she finally had to leave my assisted living facility, she could still play, but it took sitting on the piano bench by her with a lot of cuing.
She went to the nursing home part of our hospital a while ago, and couldn't play any more.
The last time I visited her, she continually rocked back and forth with her hands on her forehead.
In four years:
I never saw a single person visit her.
Not a single family member.
Not a single former student that had waited in a long privileged line for her to instruct them.
The nursing home aides tell me that she's on her way out, she's stopped eating and responding.
It won't be on CNN, there won't be a huge celebration of her life.
Probably just a few sporadic people like me, who recognise what she was and what was lost.

I'll read CNN tomorrow before I go to work, about some sort of Paris Hilton version of lame/blah/WhoGivesAFuck escapade, then lament about the priorities of our society and then go to work and wipe the asses of people who actually matter.

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Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Happy Fun Ball!

Necessary Re-post.

Introducing! The new and un-improved *Disposable Keri Doll!
Be the first on your block to own one!
Pull her string, and if you don't like what she has to say, then just throw her in the trash!
If she says something you don't like, don't waste your time giving her the benefit of the doubt, just chuck her in the can!
Heck Yeah!
How wonderful!
No more buck for your bang!
Coming soon, the "Keri Puppet." You can have her say anything you like!
*Not recommended for any children or people who have no sense of humor.

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