An Experiment

So it's official - Kitimaus is coming to live with me as of this evening.
If you don't know her story, maybe this will help:

Kitimaus is Gravel version 3.0 (also known as a stray from the mean streets of Trimble). My loftmate KTD was going to to take kitty home with her after work one day, but sometime during the workday, she was shot in the face and abdomen with a pellet gun. People can be amazingly terrible... After a couple surgeries, she's doing great - and who can resist a one-eyed kitty?

She'll be sharing our house for awhile - nine months at the most - and then will return to live with KTD. It's really an ideal situation - a temporary pet that we won't have to give away when/if we leave for the PC. Ideal, that is, if she's able to cohabitate with Stella.

A Yuletide Obsession

On occasion, Brandon and I treat ourselves to a stroll through Big Lots - the apparent mecca for Athens residents abstaining from WalMart shopping. This store often has a strange effect on us, like when we walk in and the store is brimming with Pier 1 merchandise marked down 85 percent. Our trip last weekend was no exception to this pattern, with Brandon immediately falling into a strong and mysterious trance upon walking through the doors.

As we entered there was one of those obscenely large flat panel TVs there to greet us, interestingly placed in the same spot as the people who give you your cart at WalMart... On the giant shiny screen played a fireplace scene, complete with flames flickering happily and the sounds of crackling wood. In the background, songs described as 30 "Christmas favorites" were playing softly (not the favorite versions - more like the Yanni version of Christmas). Brandon was instantly hooked. "WE HAVE TO GET IT!"

The "it" was a DVD entitled, "The Yule Log," which you can conveniently pop into your player for instant festive ambiance - or so his argument went. "IT'S ONLY THREE DOLLARS!" I ordinarily protest these whims, but he was so thrilled I couldn't argue. He grabbed a cart and threw in a cheap, red plastic case. Although I was somewhat horrified by the idea of the Yule Log abiding in my house, I must admit that Brandon's love of the log amused me greatly and that quirks like this are a reason why we like each other so much.

Twenty minutes later we went to the checkout with only the Yule Log to purchase. As we exited the store, I looked back at the monstrous stack of Yule Logs still on the table and we both agreed that we were probably the only people to every actually buy one.

Not pausing to remove his coat or shoes, Brandon went directly to the television when we got home to crank up the cheer, or something like that. "IT HAS MULTIPLE VIEWS!" After he coerced me to gather round and observe, I saw that indeed you can choose from up-close, just-fireplace view, OR you can zoom out and have an entire Christmas scene complete with mantle, stockings, and gifts abounding.

To Brandon this is perhaps the most hilarious thing to ever happen to Christmas. He is very amused with his log and is planning on bringing it home with us to ambush our families. His plan: during Christmas Eve gift exchange - LOG. during Christmas morning breakfast - LOG. at my parents' house - LOG. at his grandparents' house - LOG. You get the picture.

Until then, I imagine myself coming home from work to find him sitting on the couch, smiling, watching the log flicker and pop, adjusting the volume of the crackling. Did I mention it plays in a continuous loop? No need to restart after the two-hour initial running time.

Cash Monies and Picket Lines

So it's over. f-day has come and gone. We made $12,500 yesterday, with more to come in stock pledges and in the mail. This is an improvement over last year's sad $8K, so I feel good but not thrilled. I'm able to breathe now - and I slept 17 hours yesterday.

I called home to give my parents the report - (they are surprisingly interested in this part of my "job.") My mom was all, "Wow! That's a lot of money!" But for some reason, it never seems like enough. One of our volunteers commented that when the total was announced, there was no celebrating; he thought it was a shame because that's a whole lot of cash. Maybe we were just exhausted, or maybe we don't really know how to celebrate our accomplishments, I don't know.

So when I called, I was feeling a range of emotions about the whole event. To make me laugh and take my mind off of analyzing everything (which I'm very prone to doing), my mom told me the following story, which has kept me laughing until now:

Yesterday my dad didn't go to work as usual; instead he was going to protest poor labor practices by standing on a busy street corner in Columbus near the entrance to Easton Towne Center. The plan was for five or six of his fellow union workers to join him with placards denouncing unfair hiring at a certain business, which stood behind them in the distance.

Unfortunately for Mario P., the others didn't show, save for his sidekick, affectionately known as "the Midget" by his fellow workers. So Mario and the Midget stood on the corner, braving the chill and wind with their signs held high, with the Rat towering in the background.

Rat, you ask? As Mario tells the story, he mentions this detail matter-of-factly: "Yeah, we were standing there, and it was so damn cold, and the Rat was blowin all over the place in the wind."
The Rat turns out to be an inflatable creature standing fifteen feet tall. It is red with gray accents.

When we asked why they chose a rat as their protest mascot, he also answered us very simply, as if this was most obvious. duh. "You know, the owner, the guy's a rat, you know. He's a RAT." I'm sure most people driving down Morse Road in rush hour will understand the symbolism.

Because the Rat was causing them so much trouble, blowing around and all, they decided to move closer to the building. And by closer I mean they tied the Rat to the building. It didn't take long for a police officer to come by and explain that the building was private property and they'd have to relocate the Rat back to the street corner.

These things are difficult right now:

*Getting through the next week.
The infamous fundraiser is looming, and it's causing me to have nightmares pretty much every time I fall asleep. It will all be over just one week from now. I made the mistake of asking how much $ is in the annual budget for this event; that was a bad idea.

*Applying to the Peace Corps (two of us).
I have really forgotten how to do things like write motivational essays. What happened? I used to be a superstar at shameless self-promotion. I also need to get a lot of financial information from my parents without explaining why I need it. In lieu of recent family woes, we are not telling our fams about our applications until we're definitely in and have an approximate departure date.

*Giving up my house.
I know I need to tell my landlord that we're not staying another year, but for some reason, that's really scary. We like it there - it is a very happy first place we've had together - and if we don't get into the PC or can't leave when we want to, we will have given up the house for nothing. If we're staying in Athens for another year, I want to stay there and plant flowers in my brick beds.

I'm glad last weekend was so relaxing (aside from all the steak-pain). We saw Into the Wild, which was great. This movie bothered me enough to stay with me for a couple days (and give me more nightmares). You should see it.

Many wonderful things are happening now too, though. I'm starting to work with the Timothy House and the ARC, maybe My Sister's Place too (oh, and did I mention I'm now an elder at the Presb? ...) - all of a sudden I've remembered my former, hyper-busy self. In the past few years (also know as the abyss of college), I forgot that I was a joiner. I mean, at first it was intentional: "I'm taking a break from all this joining. No more activities for me." I was president of several community organizations, on advisory boards and committees of many others; indeed, my brain was melting circa 2002/3 from all the busyness. But somehow, this turned into five years, and now it feels like I'm slowly waking up from a long nap, and it feels really good.

I Should've Known Better. And I'm Sorry About That.

I should've known better about the pumpkins. Putting them on my front steps in Athens was a very bad idea on Halloween. After we returned from the uptown revelry (which wasn't all that boisterous), the spooky tree and skull were still safe and sound - at about 2am. No worries, I thought - if they've lasted this long, they'll make it. But when we woke to go to the Presb, the steps were bare and Brandon had to shield my eyes as we drove past the piles of pulp on the corner of Walker and First.

I'm sorry about this page - it seems my screen settings at work are all messed up, and the colors appear normal and pleasant; yet, when I viewed this blog on a computer at Alden Library, I realized it's actually quite hideous. Yep, I apologize.

Yesterday will go down in history at GluttonFest 2007. (It will also be known as my first wedding anniversary). To celebrate, we visited the Gator yet again for some serious protein: Brandon consumed more than a pound of steak. I made the mistake of ordering a chicken, rice and garbanzo bean soup on top of my entree, and the rest is pain.