Hey. You.

People.

If you're in an avalanche because you went under safe conditions and had beacons and training and weren't doing stupid shit, but die anyway, it's not your fault.
-but-
if you're in an avalanche because you went under unsafe conditions and didn't have a beacon and you were highmarking and doing other stupid shit, and you die because you turn back into the avalanche to try to find a friend before the slide has stopped, then you have not died a hero. you've died an idiot, and have endangered the lives of the people who are now trying to save your ass.

Learn. Your. Shit.

thus endeth the day's rant.

fæææææææææææn.

(for those of you not in the know, that's a very naughty word, held out for one leeengthy syllable, which means The Marmot is unhappy.)

So I finished my training on Thursday the 18th and called the schedulers on Friday the 19th to let them know I could be scheduled, but all over break when I checked to see when I'd be working, nothing was marked. blank calendar. I called yesterday and they apparently didn't get the message that I'd already called, despite me actually talking to a live person.
This afternoon around 1300 or so I checked and had a shift for Wednesday the 31st. Yay, I get to make money and feed the anemic bank account.
Tonight I check it (we're supposed to check after 1900 in case they change it on us) and Lo and Behold....

I work at 0400 tomorrow.

oh dear GOD IN HEAVEN. fæn. fæn fæn fæn. That means I have to be up at 0300, and it is 2137. FÆN.

whoever is sick and making me cover your shift? you'd better be in the ER.

exactly what I needed today.

from the incomparable Randall Munroe:


...we'll think about it.

ok, now it's christmas.

I have a wee little solar light string on the trellis that the passionflower vine inhabits, I am baking cookies, and (and here is the pertinent part) I am listening to mannheim steamroller. I would have a real tree, but a) little apartment and b) ginormous cats. (although I was tempted to stop by and get a little baby one when I had the truck on Friday.) Once The Boy and I get home from MI we'll put up the little fake tree we have. There's no snow, but we can't have everything, can we.

Going to meet Ebet and Thomas and mebbe Alexis in the city later for some...something. we don't know what.

also:

two things...how much do their neighbours hate them, and what is their power bill?

and of course:

Howodd Bensonmum.

So I passed my field training and am now obsessively checking the crewscheduler to see if my shifts have been assigned yet. They probably won't be until after I get home from MI, because I think that's what they said when I called, but I'm not sure.

went to go get my YOU MUST SEE ME bike gear (having learned that although my winter shell is nice and waterproof and toasty and bright red, it is also invisible enough in the morning at 0700 when I try to bike across the intersection for minivans to pretend I don't exist and try to hit me. and then gesticulate at me for daring to follow the 4 way stop rules.) Also, my bike home at night is fine because there's almost no traffic, but since it's through an industrial park, there's also almost no lighting. is dark. So I reserved a car (first for wednesday, and then The Migrane Of Doom ate my face, so I changed to friday), -enterprise lost my reservation, but had a chevy silverado they could rent me for the same rate as the intended car (that's not a truck, by the way, it's a boat. seriously.)- and drove up to the Vacaville outlet stores, where, after much meandering, following mapquest directions, abandoning mapquest directions, swearing, getting distracted by stores I wanted to go to (but yea, verily, I was virtuous and only got sidetracked by the RHCF...er....RMCF...rocky mountain chocolate factory, which gets called the rocky horror chocolate factory, because...it just does. It has amaaaaazing chocolates and smells like skiing and winter and warming up from cold and hot wax and skiboots and snowbird plaza, which is mountain air and snow and grillsmoke and propane and gore-tex and sweat. The woman behind the counter gave me an odd look because I spent a good 5 minutes just smelling the store. I did also go to the bath and body works store because I needed some christmas presents for MI that don't involve yarn, because I have a scarily small amount of hours left in which to finish said yarn-involving projects. yeep. but I was vigilant and did not go to the papyrus outlet or any of the others that made me go ...hey... as I drove past in search of the Pearl Izumi store.) I made it to the Pearl Izumi outlet, which was in fact on the other side of the freeway. bugger.

and I got my rain high vis jacket and glubs and a headband that actually fits under the helmet and a high vis long sleeved shirt for when it's too hot to wear the fuzzy windproof one I got when I was living in Norway and then hightailed it back to Richmond to return the car before 1800.

The Boy asked me why I spent the money to rent a car when I could have just gone on Saturday. Because, I said, what is the trifecta of "Stay Away From Shopping?"
1). Saturday.
2). December 20.
3). Giant outlet-sale mall-thing.

He did not look impressed. Clearly he never did the "oh, crud. we have to go to Ridgedale to get x/because we forgot y/z finally came in. ok. here's the plan. we will park in the waaaaay back. head down, shoulders up, protect all vital areas, get in, get out, then flee and lock self in house" game. (it's even more fun when you realize you have to go to southdale. or the galleria. or *gasp* the MoA.)

Anyway. Now it's off to get a tiny bit of groceries, then a replacement for the kitty tower (which Teh Kittehz have already tried their damndest to destroy, and it shows, and is possibly no longer entirely stable), and then home for chores. Also have to get keys to Steph and find out when on Sunday Ebet is going to be up here so I can go harass her and when on Sunday I can go harass ALEXIS who is in town and if I don't get a chance to see her I might implode because I haven't seen her in for-eeeever, so to set all this up I'm going to go away now.

What?

Oh, you're confused about the title? (well, Mom isn't. hi mum.)

Sir Alec Guinness. (Luuuke...)
Peter Falk. (...oh, just one more thing, Mrs C...)
Eileen Brennan. (yes, you know her. Mrs Peacock? uh-huh.)
Peter Sellers. (you'd better know him.)
David Niven.*
Truman Capote.*
Maggie Smith.*
James Coco.*
*(you know all these guys. they're the ones that make you squint at the screen and go "...I know you...I do...you're...uh...who are you!?")

All in a movie together. Said movie is spoofing the great literary mystery main characters; Miss Marple, Sam Spade, Nick and Nora, Hercule Poirot...

There is absolutely no reason why you should not go out right now and go rent Murder By Death.

No. Reason.

well. unless you own it. that's a reason.

tempvsfvgit

yep, that it does. that. it. does.

I'm in an odd mood, because I have had this song stuck in my head all day. aaaall day.


you know what that does to you? it makes your brain goo out your ears.

no, wait, that's watching the same flash videos over and over and over andoverandoveranoveranveranveravnererererer because insurance company-ese is evil and needs to die. especially ThomCo.

case in point? here is a snippet of flash video: "before entering the intersection, you should look left, ahead, right, then left again."
here is a snippet of test: "True or False: before entering the intersection, you should look left, right, and left again."

that'd be false, because for some reason they've decided that when you move your head from left to right, you close your eyes to avoid looking directly ahead. and now, it's obvious, but when you're taking the test you go oh, that's true, and move on, and try to figure out if they're doing something similar with the yelp time (turn siren to yelp at 150 feet...so when the question asks 'your siren should be changed to yelp mode at 100 feet"...do they mean it should already have been changed? curse you english and your lack of clarifying verb tenses!!

and osv. get it wrong, or otherwise fail to get a perfect score, and you get to go back to the beginning of the unit and watch everything. over. again.

and your brain turns to goo. and then you giggle really, really, really, really far more than you should when you find this video while searching for a better clip than the one above.

owies.

I think Jayne is trying to kill me.

last night my hair was once again in DagmarFro mode, which is one reason why very time someone tells me to try X shampoo or Y conditioner to fix my pseudo-dandruff dry scalp crap (that I think is really just my Stupid Face Crap on my scalp, because the medicated dandruff shampoos just make me go ohgodgetitoffitburnsgetitoffgetitoff), I have to restrain a laugh. Especially when it's a high moisture body boosting shampoo or conditioner. do you want to be spoinked off the planet when my hair explodes? no? This is what my hair does with any volume increasing agent, including a hair dryer:yeah. When two of us had to be trolls for a dagensprogram at The Skog, my compatriot spent 30 minutes teasing her hair out into a ratty poofy mop. I took 5 minutes in the shower with a trial size of Herbal Essences body and volume shampoo and conditoner set, and 15 minutes with a hair dryer, and my hair was way trollier. it also took two days to go back to normal, and during those two days I broke two hair elastics pulling it back into a ponytail. Hair. Of. Doom.
(Way back in high school Deoni offered to braid some cornrows into my hair to stop me whining about how my fencing mask fit until she actually started playing with my hair. Then she said if I wanted them I had to submit to Torture By Gramma. My hair is mutant. Every place I've gone to get it cut has classified it differently- fine, but a cubic shitload of it; thick, but normal amounts; coarse, but normal amounts; a mix of both fine, straight hair and rough-but-not-coarse curly hair, in just above normal amounts. I think the last is probably closest, because my hair goes curly in humidity but is pretty straight otherwise, and I have halo hairs that are very fine but I also have hairs that are freakin' huge and creased, and I know I have more hair than I should because every time I've gone to get my hair dyed by someone new, they have to go back and mix more color at least once, and they're always surprised. Anyway. got distracted by hair rant, which is now ending. ...I need a haircut. sorry. done.)

So. I'm petting Raz, who is curled up in his throne/perch/tower, and Jayne is chewing on the tower (carpet fluff is apparently The Best Thing Ever), and all is well and shiny until he notices that my halo of frizz is taunting him, and he swats for it at the exact moment that I turn my head, so I get smacked in the face with stabbity kitten claws. (Jayne has also not yet learned to play with Teh Hoomans with retracted claws.) he drew first blood! ok, so it was a miniscule droplet, from a miniscule iinsey wiinsy scritch, and is invisible today (and indeed, invisible within an hour), but still. Matt squirted him with water, but I'm not convinced that he actually connects water squirt with disciplinary action.

And this morning, I'm trying to drag myself out of bed, and he steps on my eye! (our cats have this obsession with our water glasses on the headboard, because clearly, the water in their circulating fountain dome thing is contaminated Sixth Sense style.) yes, we have The Most Ridiculously Spoilt Cats Ever, although a case could be made for less 'spoil the cats' and more 'lazy-arsed humans who like having to refill the food dispenser every other week and the water dispenser once a week because scooping out poo is bad enough.' (our cats break all laws of matter conservation. seriously. nothing that small should be able to produce that much waste.)

see? totally trying to kill me.

he also apparently sleeps on my chest, and sometimes Matt shoves him off because he's sprawled basically on my neck, but since the below clip shows you what must happen for me to wake up, I can't vouch for that.

crazy time, part 2.

So The Boy is in the habit of torturing the cats. (every time I write torturing my fingers want to write Tortuga, and go watch pirates of the carribean. I am also totally and completely braindead from going through the FEMA incident command system crap, which may have something to do with it.)

he managed to trap Jayne in the boat a few days ago, and Jayne was fine with this until he realized he couldn't actually escape by playing the humans-poke-the-side-and-I-pounce-on-it-to-killkillkill game. at that point he started his pitiful oh-crap-I'm-going-to-the-vet-and-I'm-trapped mews. The Boy then released him.

Fast forward to tonight. I'm getting rid of the last of the Craig Ferguson shows left on the DVR and trying to finish this FEMA shit without breaking down in tears of the famed "oh my god really?" sort (don't worry, you'll see what I mean in a second.). I'm mostly tuning out the thuds, scrambles, clinks, and other various and sundry sounds that indicate the cats are in the middle of crazy time, and they're busily trying to kill each other. I hear a particularly worrisome thud, and see that the little flag at the top of the boat is no longer visible behind the couch. Not a big deal, they knock it over all the time.

but suddenly....it's quiet. Too quiet. ledere senses tingling! and at this point I hear a "...mew." I peer around the couch, and Jayne has managed to trap himself in the boat. so I grab the photo. No. I grab the camera, for to take photos. (sigh. see what you make me do, FEMA?)
Raz is coming to investigate the piteous mews. There is, however, A Giant Black Thing Right There and it might attack him, so caution must be exercised. The Giant Black Scary Thing hasn't attacked, so it's ok to venture underneath and investigate The Interloper (Jayne), although this is confusing because he can see him and he can smell him, but there's this weird blue stuff in the way...This one is with the flash, which is why Raz is sort of squinty, and is taken after Raz has carefully placed a paw right in front of Jayne's face, only to remove it and shake it. (Raz doesn't like the mesh feel. he's sort of a diva cat.)

Don't worry, I released The Kitteh from his jail after taking the pictures.

Anyway, so this FEMA crap I'm slogging through, for The Job, is a set of online courses and exams that you take to certify that you are a) not brain dead and b) speak governmentese. Why is this depressing? this screenshot:Yes, that's right. it's saying that a presidential directive requires homeland security to play well with others. As opposed to what? not coordinating with other federal depts? oh, florida just slid into the sea? oh, well, here's our plan for rescue and support and YOU CAN'T SEE IT neener neener neener go make your own?

...


...


...nevermind.

er....look!
The Stole is done!Rav has more photos.

grooooaaaannn...

The Universe is talking about having sex in outer space.

They just used this phrase: "I don't think anyone has probed the idea of sex in space." and "zero-g spot."

groan.

So The Boy and I exchanged Christmas presents early because a) neither one of us wanted to haul them all the way to Michigan and then back to Caliminifornia and b) he had to go to the city to pick it up at the same time as I wanted to hit up Bazaar Bizarre.

He got me a wii fit, which neatly lays to rest my hemming and hawing about whether I wanted to get one or not. Pretty fun so far, although he's a bit miffed because my wiifit age is only 22 while his is 35. the slalom balance game is a bitch, though. hair trigger on the board made worse by the fact that you're supposed to aim through the middle of the two wickets, and...uh...too many years of racing makes me aim for the inner radius of each pair, which is not condusive to getting a good score.

it's also mildly annoying because its main method of tracking your progress is by BMI, which is the biggest crock of bullshit ever invented. wanna see why? and yes, all the forum trolls have pointed out that people know how to buy clothes to make them look their best, and that the photos aren't standardized in regards to pose, etc, etc, etc... but still. I know I'm overweight, but I am not obese, and I know that the BMI is basically crap, but it's still annoying to hear the little 'wah wah wah' sound that plays when the wiifit measures me.

bah.
This was totally my childhood.

and this is a glimpse of the cats in the middle of their crazy time, when they go running like amphetamine-dosed balls of fluff down the hallway and over the couch and unsuspecting innocent bystanders. Here we see Jayne to stage right, realizing that p=mv, and that Raz has a lot more m, and thus a lot more p, and he's screwed. you can just barely see Raz in the top stage left corner. and those little popup cubey things you see there under the couch? the kittens managed to get them there. how? see aforementioned 'crazy time.'


Because Garfield is just sometimes exactly what you need.


This is also Raz. he's a bit darker, but the facial expression and everything else? Raz.


There is a shirt available based off of the last panel of this comic, but it's not tempting enough to beat out the "Fools! I will destroy you all! ask me how!" shirt or the "Stand Back: I'm going to try science!" or the "Science: it works, bitches." shirts.

And this just makes me laugh. oh, beaker.