Happy feet?

Wow, these prehistoric penguins sound phenomenal. Five feet tall. Penguins are unbearably cute to begin with, so the concept of one large enough to be my slow dance partner? Blows. My. Mind. Where in the hell is the artist’s rendering?

Charlie Brown no more?

For the past few years I’ve taken to calling myself “Charlie Brown”. You know, he of the black cloud and general downtrodden nature. To say I’ve been unlucky would be a gross understatement. I won’t create a laundry list of the ways in which I’ve been wronged (at least not today), but suffice it to say if something COULD get screwed up, it did.

Oddly, things seem to have taken a turn for the better. And yes, I just knocked on my desk when I typed that. I should probably knock on something larger to make SURE I haven’t jinxed myself. Something a bit beefier, like a mountain chalet. Or a pirate ship. Unfortunately, neither of those things are handy at the moment. So I’ll just have to hope for the best. So don’t screw me over, desk!

I’m not saying that EVERYTHING has been perfect. As I mentioned, we had to put Maggie down a few weeks ago and there have been minor things here and there. For example, our less-than-five-year-old washer broke last week and we had to replace it to the tune of $700. But IN GENERAL things have been going well. Scarily well.

1. Bye bye chemo
My dad just completed his last treatment. I can’t express the relief I feel. And I won’t even venture a guess as to how my dad feels about the situation. He has been through so much. There is no cure for his cancer (his prostate cancer metastasized into bone cancer) but making it through chemo means his life-span will be longer and he will have less pain. The most amazing part is that the man hasn’t complained once. If it were me I’d be bitching it up. But he’s so damn optimistic, and I find it insanely inspiring.

2. New job, new outlook
Have I mentioned how wonderful it is to work with genial, logically inclined people? Don’t get me wrong, there was something a bit addictive about the non-stop drama at my last job. But now I realize how much it sapped my energy, and how time and effort I spent complaining endlessly about various injustices. Now I’m a pretty happy person in general, and Jim is thrilled to be spared a nightly diatribe about how this person did a crazy thing and that person is a jerk, etc. etc.

3. The lion cut
Our cat Beast isn’t the cuddliest of creatures. Some might call him difficult. Or grouchy. Or just damn lucky that he ended up in our family and not somewhere else where people don’t put up with feisty scratching and advanced experiments in fang/hand interactions. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a cute cat. Deceivingly so. And he seems to get along with Jim OK (I’ve given up). He just doesn’t like to be pet for more than . . . oh, 30 seconds at a time. Jim’s theory is that he spends so much time grooming his fluffy hair that he gets royally pissed when you mess it up and force him to start over. Did I mention the hairballs? Frequent and disgusting. But all that changed this week. Enter the lion cut. We tried it out last summer and it worked wonders. And this time has been no different. Beast is seriously a different cat. He doesn’t mind being pet and he just seems happy. As a special bonus he looks hilarious, and the comic relief renders me incapable of harboring ill will against him. Here’s a before and after shot.

And there are more potentially auspicious items on the horizon if this trend continues. I still can’t help but think there may be a rigged anvil around every corner, but so far so good. And believe me, there’s nothing I’d love more than to kiss that black cloud goodbye for good and redub myself Lady Luck.

Mission Accomplished

Last night I finished Infinite Jest, and I feel like someone should give me a trophy. I consider this a conquest of monumental proportions because it’s been a long time in coming. I originally started reading the novel 10 years ago when it was first published, but gave up about a quarter of the way in. The plot is very complicated and requires a fair amount of concentration (thanks in part to the five zillion characters), and the prose is challenging at best. To complicate matters, there are 388 end notes sprinkled liberally throughout the book that require you to constantly flip back and forth between the meat of the text and the related information.

Anyway, sometime last year I happened across an article mentioned an upcoming 10th anniversary edition of the book. And then I read another article that talked about what a huge David Foster Wallace fan John Krasinski (of The Office fame) is. And I thought, OK, I’ll give that beast of a novel another shot. I plunged back in sometime in November, and more than six months later I can finally lay the thing to rest.

Am I glad I persisted? I don’t really know. I guess in a way I feel a sense of satisfaction for sticking it out, but I think enjoyed finishing the book more than I enjoyed reading it. Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely some interesting and funny parts, but overall it is sloooooow going. A lot of the characters talk in ridiculously complex ways, especially the teenagers. Imagine the kids from Dawson’s Creek (or a more recent example, the movie Brick) on some kind of intellectual crack, and you’re close to getting it.

I find Wallace’s non-fiction a lot more compelling and accessible. His book “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again” is top notch. So I’m not really sure why he went the route he did with Infinite Jest, unless he was just trying to impress the hell out of people. Because there is no doubt that the guy is a genius. Even if the book isn’t infinitely entertaining, it’s remarkable in its scope and ambition. So if you’re up for a challenge, give it a go. Just realize it’s not exactly a quick beach read.

Do yourself a favor

Harper’s magazine recently retooled their website and added an insanely ginormous archive. We’re talking all the way back to 1850. The Harper’s Index alone is worth the price of admission, so if you’re liberal minded and you know what’s good for you, SUBSCRIBE. You will not regret it.

Smells like 1983

The London 2012 Olympics logo may be memorable, but DAMN it’s hideous! I think the design could have worked wonders for Esprit back in the day, but now it’s just embarassing. I can’t figure it out for the life of me. Were they trying to tap into the “what’s old is new again” philosophy? Is it an attempt to entice the younger generation—all those young kids with their crazy iPods and their YouTubes and their hipster t-shirts? More than anything I’m shocked that this mess this came from the same firm that produce the Tate’s logo, which I think is fabulous.

And now the Sun is reporting that the animated version is causing seizures, a la the Pokemon debacle. Can’t say I’m surprised.

Goodbye, sweet Pie

I spent some quality couch time with Maggie yesterday morning before we loaded both dogs into the car and headed to the vet. On the way there we stopped at McDonalds and bought Maggie a sausage biscuit. She LOVED it. We’ve always been pretty strict about not giving our dogs people food, so it was a rare treat. Jim and I both cried as we fed her, knowing that it would be here last meal here on earth.

When we got to the vet’s office the waterworks really started to flow. If you’ve never had to put a pet to sleep let me tell you—it’s even worse than you might imagine. Having to make the decision is gut-wrenching, and having to go through with it is pure torture. Luckily the folks at Alameda East (which used to be Maggie’s regular clinic until we moved farther north) have the process down to a science. They have a special “comfort room” with comfy couches that is well stocked with Kleenex. You make all the arrangements beforehand, so that when it is over you exit out a side door that leads to a memorial garden and the parking lot. We decided to have Maggie cremated and have her ashes placed in a pine box. My thought is that one day we’ll be buried together.

They took Maggie to the back to insert her IV catheter, and I was thankful that we didn’t have to witness that part of the procedure. Shortly afterwards, one of the vet techs stopped by to offer his condolences. He used to take Maggie home with him when she boarded there (he’s a big French Bulldog fan). He was very sweet and I was glad to have the opportunity to talk to someone who appreciated Maggie as much as we did.

The vet arrived quickly after they brought Maggie back to us. She explained that she would give Maggie two shots of the same medication. The first injection would put her into a sound sleep, and the second was an overdose that would stop her heart. I took a deep breath and held Maggie on my lap. At first she was sitting up, but after the first shot she quickly relaxed and laid down. That’s when Jim and I really lost it. Her gentle snorting and grunting quieted and then stopped. The vet gave her the second shot and it was over. I can’t describe how devastated we were. We sobbed and sobbed. Even the normally high-energy Banjo watched soberly from the opposite corner of the couch.

The vet left and we spent a few minutes alone with Maggie. I told her how much I loved her, and how sorry I was that she had to leave us. I know in my heart that she is in a better place now. She had SO many health problems. I often wonder if she lived in true comfort for even a single day of her life. But she was treasured by us and everyone who met her. She had a rare and extraordinary soul.

The house is eerily quiet with Maggie gone. To sleep without her gentle snoring last night was a keen reminder of her absence. I cried myself to sleep listening to the silence.

I know things will get easier in time, but I will always miss that precious little baby.

Welcome to WordPress

Bye-bye Blogger, and a big “thank ye” to cousin Micah for showing me the light. I’m so excited about the ability to easily manipulate the header on this site. I might even have to make a new monkey banner every month. Or quarterly. Or something.