Cool quote

I heard a neat quote last night at my Pistol Marksmanship class, which I thought was worth writing down (and apparently also worth sharing).

We were talking about how, I guess it used to be that you were supposed to aim at the center of the target when you shoot. Which makes sense, because that's what you want to hit. Except, when people (especially beginners) aim at something so tiny, it's hard to actually hit it. Because peoples' bodies naturally move a tiny bit, etc. So instead, they teach people to aim below the target. And then it's easier to focus on the front sight (instead of the target), because you can see it better, and you're not so distracted with trying to hit a tiny specific spot. And then you adjust the sight so that by aiming a little below the target, and then you're more likely to hit the center than if you're actually aiming at the center.

And the instructor mentioned a quote that he'd heard recently, which I thought was good. He didn't cite it though, and Google attributes it to "unknown" sooo, here you go:

"Don't let perfection get in the way of excellence."

Good stuff, huh?

Just staying busy.

Well, I haven't really blogged all that much lately.

I've been busy.

Here are the main things that have been happening in my life:

I attended concerts! I saw Weezer live, which was excellent, and then the next week I went to the Rock Band Live! concert, which was also very good. It converted me to liking Dashboard Confessional, which I never really cared for before the concert. I also really enjoyed seeing Panic! at the Disco, and thought they did a great job. (I went because they were playing.) Plain White T's was less impressive. For both concerts I had tickets that were down on the floor, and I invited a guy from my Institute up here in Salt Lake. We were super close--so close that we didn't watch the big screens because we could actually see the people singing and the expressions on their faces, etc, without needing to look at the big screen. (PS, the concert pictures are from my camera phone.)

I visited New England with my friends. We went to a Shaker village in New Hampshire, visited Dartmouth, and then we went to Sharon, Vermont, to see Joseph Smith's birthplace. We also went to Lexington and Concord (and saw the spot where "the shot heard 'round the world" was fired, and also saw a live reenactment of redcoat stuff), and we had a tour of Harvard Law school. And went to church in Boston, which was basically the same as church in Utah or church in California. The trip was my favorite thing I've done in a long time. I've decided that traveling with my friends is my favorite thing to do. Of everything.

I ran a 5K last Saturday, which was part of Wellness week on campus. The actual title of the race is "Run Like Health", but nobody actually pronounced the "th" on "Health" and I'm pretty sure that was intentional. I got a cool shirt from it, which I plan to really wear, unlike my other race shirts. Also, on the same topic, I've started running most days. And I like it. (I always wanted to like running!)

I had the kitties, which obviously I already blogged about. It's kind of weird now that they're gone, because I come home and I don't have to make sure the kitties don't run out as I'm coming in the door. And then I go take my shoes off, and I don't have to put them up high, because the kitties aren't going to snag them or chew on them. And I take my earrings out, and I don't have to put them up high either, because the kitties won't play with them or eat them. And my house doesn't smell like kitties or waste, even though I empty the litter box zero times per day. And I sleep well basically every night now. So. Sort of I miss them, and really I'm secretly relieved to have my house smell normal and all that. Even though they were cute.

I watched season one of Heroes, and I liked it. And now I'm watching season two. Claire is my favorite of all the characters. I also like Hiro. I've been kind of slow about watching my other shows. I'm just busy enough with everything else that like, The Office and HIMYM are not as important as they were. I also watched season one of Pushing Daisies and I love it. Actually, though, I still haven't bothered to plug in my TV yet, sooo, my TV viewing is basically all online or while I'm running.

I don't have any fancy hobbies right now, really. I had this great idea that I wanted to knit washcloths for all of my married friends (because I think they make a house a home), but Jess thought it was a stupid idea, because everyone uses sponges nowadays. And I guess she's right, so now I'm not excited about spending lots of time making something that nobody wants. Jess said I should knit hot pads instead. Meh. We'll see. So I knitted one washcloth to try out one of the patterns, but that's all of the knitting I've done lately. (Although now that it's cold, maybe I'll want to knit more scarves and hats and socks.) I haven't been spinning either.

Hobby updates: remember how I was all into gardening this summer? And I turned out to have not a green thumb at all, but like a thumb of death instead? I was at my old apartment a couple weeks ago and turns out, my tomato plants grew a tomato! One. That was green in the middle of October, so probably would never be red. Too bad, but still kind of neat, since I started the tomatoes as tiny seeds. My other hobby update is about CERT-- this week I finally got my card that shows that I did it.

OH! AND I have been shooting! I signed up for a Pistol Marksmanship class, and I've had three classes of it so far. LOVE IT! I've always wanted to try, and frankly, I'm not very good (yet!), but it sounded like a fun idea, and I'm enjoying it tremendously. I like just doing things instead of thinking and thinking about them forever. So this was one of those things.

I've also kind of become a football fan, which is way new for me. I'm in the student section at school, and I've been to a few of the games. This week we're playing against TCU, and we're having a blackout game, which is, get this, where everyone wears black. Even the players. It's supposed to look intimidating. I think it will. Except if tomorrow is anything like today, we'll be snowy black, which I think it more picturesque and not so intimidating, but whatever. Yesterday I picked up my MUSS BLACKOUT sweatshirt. I think the game will be fun. And more fun if we win. [Not my car; just one I saw.]

In other sports news, I'm ref'ing (sp?) volleyball games for the next couple weekends. RANDOM! I don't know anything about volleyball. But it's cool. I'll figure it out.

My classes are going pretty well. EXCEPT, turns out I love love Accounting, and really hate English [literature], which is unfortunate becuase the English major here isn't English. It's English [literature]. And if I switch to Accounting, I'm basically starting from square one (3 1/2 years of classes, for just my bachelors, because I have to go through the whole business school thing). But if I keep going with English, I have 1 1/2 years left instead. SO, not sure what I'm going to do about that.

And then I guess my last item of news is just about my new job. I started working there this Monday, and so far things are fine. I don't love it. It's okay, though. And there are some things that I do like about it. Like, yesterday, I got to check in a bunch of books we had lent out to other libraries, and a bunch of places put these little thank you notes in the books, and that made me happy. I also do a bunch of scanning, and that is less interesting. I'm happy to be working somewhere, though.

So that's good.

No more cats.

Well, I just took the cats back.

This time, I tried calling ahead (nobody answered), I found a way to put a luggage strap on the Pet Taxi, and I got off at the correct train stop, so that made things a little easier. Okay, a lot.

But when I told them the kitties hadn't had their second shots or been spayed/neutered yet, they got mad at me. "We never take foster kittens back before they've been spayed." WELL. And I kind of mumbled something about the Humane Society being far, and I have to carry the cats, and they're destroying my house, and it sounded like a lame excuse.

And I don't think the lady understood that when I bought a pumpkin yesterday, I couldn't carry it because my forearms are still bruised, and so are my hips. And she obviously didn't understand that last night I had to put sweats on top of my pajamas and then sleep with a heating pad, because I was out of clean blankets and even my comforter needs to be washed, and so does my couch. And she couldn't have understood that I can't put my bathmat in the bathroom, my shoes on the floor, or my books on the couch. And she definitely didn't understand that my new-to-me couch which had zero snag marks when I got it is now covered in snag marks. Even though I say "no" whenever kitties start to bother it.

Obviously she didn't understand that kitties bite me awake, or just mew and mew, or run around and I haven't slept well since I got back from Boston. And I don't think she understood that I've tried and tried to make my house smell livable, but that I can't open my windows really, because they have no screens and I can't let the cats out. She didn't understand that I gave each of the kitties individual attention at least a couple times every day so that they would feel loved, and grow up to be nice cats, for other people. She didn't understand that I was trying to help and did my best.

She didn't thank me for keeping six cats in my apartment for six weeks.

She was annoyed. She said, "They're not spayed. What am I supposed to do with them?" and I thought maybe it was a rhetorical question, because she's in charge of foster animals with the Humane Society. And like, all week long doesn't she get not-spayed cats that she's not expecting? (That's the whole idea of having a Humane Society, right?) And these ones weren't even mine. But she just looked at me, because it wasn't a rhetorical question, so I said, "Spay them?" And she said they'd have to find someone else to foster them. It was an extremely awkward conversation.

And I know I read on the fostering agreement that if I didn't take them for their shots, or if I refused to give them back, I wouldn't be allowed to foster animals and maybe not even adopt from the Humane Society ever again. So I think I may be blacklisted from the Humane Society.

Which is awful. That's like being blacklisted from volunteering at the library or at an elementary school.

So now I'm home in my catless house. And feeling awful about my best not being enough.

OOh, glimmer of hope! Just now, as I was typing this, another lady from the fostering at the Humane Society called to find out what happened. And I explained that I couldn't take them back for shots, etc, during the week because I have a new job, and the Humane Society is way far without a car, etc, and she was like, "Ohh." And she told me the kitties were "nice and fat"! And we talked about some of the mom's issues (like wishing she were an outside cat and not using the litter box), and some of the personality traits of the kitties (one of them was hissy when they tried to give it shots), etc, and it was the conversation that I had expected to have when I dropped them off.

Sigh.

New Job

In my last blog post, I mentioned that I had a job interview today.

I went. It was about what I expected. (Did you guys know I'm good at interviewing for jobs? Because I am.)

And they offered me the job!

I never really know how much to say about work on my blog. SO, basically, I'm working at my school library. In one of the departments. I think it's going to be a lot of fun. And it's going to work so so much better with my school schedule than Ancestry did. (Which is to say, I can SLEEP now!) And I don't have to take public transportation to get there.

I start on Monday. Today I exchanged my student ID for an employee magic door-opener card.

Just a couple other random thoughts--

I thoroughly enjoy people dressing up for work on Halloween. The guy who made my new student ID was a vampire! At first I only noticed his fangs and suit, but then partway through our exchange, I realized he had red eyes. Neat. Also, there was a gypsy serving food at one of the restaurants on campus.

On that same note, there are some quality Halloween episodes of things that are worth watching. The Office and Making Fiends come to mind.

And one last thing, and this is sad: as I was reading the NYT during lunch today, I read a story about MiShawna Moore and Sanders-Clyde Elementary. Basically, the lady was like Mother Teresa at the school. When families didn't have anymore food stamps, they came to her, she helped people with their electricity bills, and bought a bunch of turkeys for Thanksgiving and food baskets, etc. I guess the school really became like, a community center. And the school was like all these poor black kids. And after they got all this attention, they started thriving. All these kids that couldn't read became proficient readers, and stuff. And the school became an inspiration. MiShawna Moore won a bunch of awards. And people were saying anyone, if they're given the right attention, can succeed. EXCEPT, oh wait, turns out they can't. They started monitoring the testing at the school and then the principal takes off, really randomly. And scores drop from 84.6 percent to 44.4 percent on the third grade science test. And kids who are transferring to other schools, like, just because, are not thriving anymore. And when they go back to look at old tests, each kid has like 7 erasure marks to correct answers, when usually the average for that sort of thing is one per kid. And the saddest thing of all is, everyone had hope, but it turned out to be in nothing. Because the kids still can't read.

I don't really know what to think about that.

I did think it was an interesting story, though.

I've kind of started coming up with names for them.

I've had the kitties for like six weeks, and I haven't named them.

I call them:

The girl one. = The gray and cream long-haired calico girl one.

The gray one. = The long haired gray one that poops on everything.

The white one. = The white boy.

The orange ones. = The two boys that are both orange.

Except, the orange ones don't look alike anymore. One is darker, and his tail has a dark tip. He has short hair. The other one has medium-long hair, and he's lighter, and his tail has a light tip.

Also, the orange ones get into different kinds of mischief now. And the dark orange one has decided we're BFF. So he keeps sitting in my lap and falling asleep, which is darling.

I've started thinking of names for them, though, which is a Bad Idea, because everyone knows that once you name them you start to get attached. Even though I don't like them, I sort of already am. Because I keep serving them. I feed them, I pick up their poop, I pet them, I talk to them, I come home to them. Everyone who's served a mission knows the way to love someone you don't love is to serve them.

I really want to call the fluffy light orange kitty Punkin. He's so round and orange! Wouldn't that be cute? It would, huh. The same way that babies born around Christmas are sometimes named Holly or Noel. And girls born on Valentine's day are sometimes called Valentina. And boys born on the Fourth of July should be named Sam.

And I had thought of another really good orange kitty name for the other one, but I forget it now. (It's better that way.)

And if I wanted to keep the theme, I could name the white one Spook. Cute. Just like how parents name their kids Julie and Jared and Jordan and Jennifer so that they all start with J's. Except instead of a letter theme, it's a season one. But he doesn't really seem like a Spook or ghost cat anyway. Maybe because of his orange tips.

Anyway, I'll keep calling them by their colors instead of naming them. Even though I feel like I'm in the 1950's because there's a white boy and a black girl. And a colored girl.

Oh well.

In other news, in my last post I said I didn't, but I actually did accomplish some stuff today:

- I registered for another 5k, which is this Saturday. Fun! And I went running today.

- I picked up my College Republicans shirt, which, frankly, disappoints me. It says on the front "Your Professor Doesn't Have To Know" and it's an ugly font, and each word is capitalized (why?), and I understand that some people get really picked on by their professors for being Republican, but wearing a shirt that says that makes me feel like I'm keeping a bad secret, which I don't think my party affiliation is. It just seems like my shirt is making some kind of an excuse to go get drunk on a school trip or something. But yay. Another free shirt. Although I wish they'd chosen the other idea they'd told us about, which was like GO RED (or some other verb)! BLEED RED (we have a big blood drive, which nobody takes seriously, but which everyone sees advertised like crazy), VOTE RED. (AWESOME.) Oh well.

- Right after I finish typing this, I'm going to watch the last episode of the first season of Heroes, which is obviously also an accomplishment.

- AND! Tomorrow I have an interview for a job! And that's exciting, since I am presently unemployed.

The End.

Taking the cats back...home again.

Today I decided I was done with the kitties.

It's been about the right amount of time, anyway.

I cleaned everyone's eyes and noses. We took a few pictures, which nobody wanted to sit still for. And which didn't focus right, since they were on auto-timer.

I cleaned the big pet taxi carrier. And stuffed everyone into the cage.

I lugged them up the hill to the TRAX station. Nobody really meowed or anything, but they were heavy, and I knew we were in for a lot of fun. We had just missed the train, so we had to wait for the next one. It wasn't the worst problem to have, because I was already tired of carrying them. Everyone nearby wanted to talk to me about the kitties. Everyone nearby had siblings or friends who fostered kitties. And then the kitties started to smell. I think the gray one pooped and it started getting all over everyone. Gross. Everyone was just kind of chilling out in the pet taxi, though, so we were mostly ok.

We caught the train, and it was a SANDY one instead of a DOWNTOWN SLC one, so we didn't even have to change trains at Gallivan Plaza. Sweet. It was an older train, so we couldn't really get down the aisle to a good spot, but I sat in one of the "please offer these seats to the elderly or disabled" seats (which I usually don't) (sit in, not offer!) and that way there was space for the Pet Taxi on the floor in front of me. Another lady got on the train a few stops later, and she wanted to talk about the kitties too. And how nobody should ever buy pets from anywhere but the Humane Society. Great.

And then we got off at 3300 S, because you can either get off at 3300 or 4500ish, and last time I went I decided 3300 S would definitely be closer since you have to backtrack a TON if you get off at 4500ish.

And the cats were HEAVY.

So about every block or sometimes every half block, we all sat down and rested. And they smelled, too. SO badly. And my hands hurt. And my arms hurt. And my sides hurt.

And I sometimes carried them on my right hip. And when I did that, I would put my bag on my left shoulder, and hold the Pet Taxi handle with my left hand, and balance the big pet carrier on my hip, and reach my right arm to the far side of the carrier. I think that was how I carried them most often. Sometimes I would try to do the reverse, on my left hip, but that was less comfortable.

Other times I carried them in front of me. And I reached both arms around the sides of the carrier, and held it near the bottom.

And still other times I just carried it by the handle, and they bumped against my leg as I walked. That made me tired the quickest.

And then, when we were at about 3700 S, I remembered: actually, there's a train stop at 3900 S. I didn't need the 3300 S stop. I wanted the 3900 S one! It was too late to turn back, so I was walking six long blocks that I didn't even need to, carrying heavy cats. Great.

And then, I got to 3900 S, and I felt like we were getting close. EXCEPT, I couldn't figure out how to get there. And it was quickly getting dark.

There was an overpass to cross some train tracks. First, I tried walking under the overpass, right next to the train tracks. But that wasn't right. And I would have had to have actually crossed them, at not a crossing spot. And I was still having to stop pretty frequently, and it seemed like something that would get me in trouble, and not even get me to where I was trying to go.

So I went back out of that, and around the SLCC Milcreek corner, and down to the light. And I crossed the intersection, and crossed to the other side of the street, but it was 210, and not 300 W, and it looked kind of like a dead end. So I crossed back, and crossed again, and crossed again, so that I could go over the overpass on the pedestrian side.

And we stopped and rested, and then we went up the hill, stopping to rest partway through. And we got to the top, where there was a scary, bridge-like thing for pedestrians to cross, which was covered in graffiti. And we crossed it. And we started to go down the other side, except that it looked like it crossed the freeway. Which was wrong. We didn't want to be on the other side of the freeway.

So we walked back down the overpass. Back across the street to the 210 one. And I wanted to lay down and fall asleep on the side of the road. Because I was So. So. Tired. And Everything hurt. Well. Not everything. Just my hands and arms and shoulders and sides and hips.

And the kitties started to get tired of me jostling them around, and tipping the carrier to hold it against one side, and tipping it in the other direction to hold them on the other side, etc. I noticed I was getting cat poop on me which had become a mess inside the carrier and was getting on me when I would hold the Pet Taxi against my side. Great.

But we were ALMOST there. Sort of. And I could SEE THE SIGN.

I kept consoling them even though the cats don't speak English. "We're almost there. Just 2. 3 more blocks. I know guys, I don't like this either." So we made our way down the long industrial street that wasn't the right one, so that we could get to a street that got us to the right one.

And it was dark.

And I kept having to stop like, at every other industrial place's driveway, to rest. And partway through, there was a dog which became interested in us. But its owner was good and kept it from coming across the street to eat the cats.

And then we got to the right street. And the kitties were mewing because they'd had it. I wanted to cry. I was tired. "We're almost there, guys," I kept telling them. But really I was telling me.

And we got there! And the gate was open, for EMPLOYEES AND DELIVERIES (or something like that) ONLY. And I was there for a delivery (or whatever the word was), so I went in.

And there were people outside!

We only had to stop once to rest in the driveway. It was like we were sprinting towards the finish line of the race.

Except the people outside weren't just outside, or on break. Although I'd left at 4pm, it was now 7:45. The place was closed.

.

.

I explained to them that I was done with the kitties. I'd been fostering, and it had been about the right amount of time, and I was done with them. They said the door was locked, and there wasn't anywhere to put them even if it was open.

I said my arms were tired, I got off at the wrong stop and had carried them from 3300 S. I said I was done with them.

They understood that my arms couldn't carry any more. One lady said she gets tired after just walking half a block.

They decided we would call the foster people and see if they could come back (hello inconvenience), and I agreed that we could try that. They didn't answer.

One of the ladies said she would take them, but that she doesn't work tomorrow. And then she said she would just take them. And I was like "are you sure?" because you're always supposed to ask that even if you don't care if someone's sure. And she said that she was. And then I was just taking down the email address so that I can send pictures and comments about their personalities, and they noticed that Lisa V's phone number was on my papers, too. And we had to call her, too, because maybe the ladies could drop the cats off at her house, if they could just get her address. But she didn't answer either.

And then the lady who was going to take the cats realized she can't have kittens that haven't had all of their shots. These haven't. No, she's not allowed to have foster kittens. Because one time she had a kitten die. It got distemper, and someone brought it back to the shelter after they had adopted it, saying it had died. So she's not allowed to have kittens anymore. Just cats with all of their vaccinations.

But I still couldn't carry the cats anymore. So they offered me a ride home, and I can bring them sometime when it's open. And I should call the foster ladies first, please. Great.

So after goodbye pictures and almost 4 hours of trekking with cats this afternoon, we loaded up into the lady's van, and she drove us home. Everyone was happy to get home, and everyone was covered in cat poop. And smelled like it. I gave a couple kitties partial baths.

And now, as I type this, I'm back where I started. (DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $500.) Except my hands are still red and raw, and I accomplished nothing with my afternoon. Super.

Random!

In my US Government class, we have weekly quizzes. On Fridays. This week, we have the option of writing a paper that assess two of the presidential election candidates (Obama/McCain or Barr/Nader) on their personal qualities and their views on issues, and then we also talk about what our political party identification is.

Since a lot of people think they're one party or the other but their views match something else, we're supposed to do a short exercise online which tells us what party we actually match up with based on our opinions of 30? things. And then the results are pretty specific, too--there are Republicans who are "Enterprisers", there are "Social Conservatives", and "Pro-Government Conservatives." Or, there are "Liberals", "Disadvantaged Democrats", and "Conservative Democrats". Plus there are "Upbeats" and "Disaffecteds" and "Bystanders." Huh. Interesting.

It takes like, a minute to complete. If you want to do it, you can here:
http://typology.people-press.org/typology/

And you don't have to enter your email address or anything.

But anyway, what I really wanted to post about is:
I'm doing the essay instead of a quiz this Friday (since I'm going to be in Boston and would miss the quiz). An issue that I'm saying is important to me is "he/she would be a good commander-in-chief" and I'm looking for evidence that one of the candidates is not qualified.

I'm looking at congressional voting records.

AND, turns out, you can sort voting records by astrological sign. On the Washington Post website. For example, you can see here that on a vote confirming John G. Roberts, Jr., of Maryland, to be Chief Justice of the United States, all 5 Aries voted Yes, and so did all 4 Geminis. Or in the same vote, you can also sort to see the results divided by gender, Baby Boomer/ Pre-Boomer status, and when the voter is up for re-election. (Also, you can sort by the party, state, and region. But I expected those.)

Random! I wonder if they put that in there just for fun, or if there are people who take that stuff seriously.

Michael Ramirez!

Remember how I've mentioned that I love political cartoons by Michael Ramirez?

WELL! I subscribed to emails from IBD which have his daily cartoon in them. Or a link to them anyway.

And when I clicked the link today, it was...

A selection of Michael Ramirez's 2008 Pulitzer Prize Winning Cartoons.

What? Awesome. He won a Pulitzer Prize! But, not only that, turns out he won one in 1994 too!

AND, not only that, he has a new book! Of his cartoons! This book comprises my wishlist for Christmas and future birthdays, until I get it or until I have extra money to spend on books. And, on the page about the book, there's a picture of him. So I finally saw what he looks like. (AND, the book is endorsed by twelve excellent people. See? This isn't like how everyone liked the Green Bay Packers when they were winning, or the Chicago Bulls. I totally blogged about him before he won his prize this year. I have such good taste. Hm.)

I'm thrilled. And if you like political cartoons at all, you should check out today's selection, because you'll love them too.

Cat update

The kitties are getting bigger.

The two orange ones look less alike. The darker orange one has started sometimes purring when I pick him up. He's also more active than most of the other kittens. And he sometimes will sit still with me for a little bit. The lighter one is less interested in me [note: he slept in my lap while I uploaded pictures for this post, though] and playing and has a sore eye, poor kitty. Both of the orange kitties like playing with plastic bags. Actually, I think all of the kitties do.

The white cat doesn't cry nearly as much as he used to. He's really pretty now; he has orange like...tips. His ears are orange, and his tail, and his nose, and they fade to white. As of a couple days ago, he thinks I taste good. Or something. When I pick him up, he starts licking my shirt or my arm. He especially likes to do this after I go running, because I'm salty. Randomly, the white kitty developed a fear of heights. When I hold him, or go to put him down, he clings and starts meowing, totally freaked out.

The gray cat has become fascinated with cords. She likes to bother my computer, the telephone cord, my hair straightener cord, my phone charger, etc. I have to pick her up and find new things for her to do. The gray cat looks less mangy, and doesn't crouch when she's walking now (usually). She'll be a pretty cat when she grows out of her ugly kitten phase.

The calico little girl is about the same. She's still sweet. She still purrs when I pick her up. She's very curious. She likes yarn. Her fur is very soft. She likes to pick on her brothers.

Most of the kitties are doing much better with knowing when to use claws, and when not to. They're all doing a great job of using the litter box.

Their mom isn't. Kiki is the same as before, except more annoying. She still doesn't use her litter box all the time. She has started rummaging through my kitchen trash when I leave the house. She keeps trying to run outside. A couple times she's gotten out without me realizing it, just as I'm coming home. Except! There's an entryway to my apartment and my neighbor's apartment; so even if Keek makes it out of my door, she would have to conquer another door to actually get outside. Which obviously, she can't. So she starts crying and wants back in, and I let her in. Stupid cat. So I think whoever adopts Kiki should want an outside cat. Because she sucks at being an inside cat, but she would probably be pretty nice as an outside one. And she wants to go out anyway.

Canstruction at the library!

Something that I really do love about living downtown-ish, is that as an official resident of Salt Lake City (proper), The City Library is mine.

We have a gorgeous library, which I have coveted ever since I laid eyes upon it. One of my first acts as an official resident was to claim my library card. It's that amazing. People take engagement pictures there. It's just that kind of place.

Anyway, the other day, I had to do laundry again (stupid cats), and I decided I'd grab some reading material. And I found great stuff, but really the point of the story is, when I was going up in a glass elevator, I noticed that the atrium was featuring can art! Like I blogged about before!

So after I got my books, I went down to take a look.

The main sign said this:

September 29-October 17, 2008
Main Library Urban Room
Canstruction(R) is an international community service project of the design and construction industr; ten of Utah's architecture, engineering, and design firms will join in the competition.
The event combines the competitive spirit of a design/build contest with a unique way to help feed hungry people: competing teams from local firms showcase their talents by designing giant sculptures made entirely out of canned foods, which will be donated to Utah Food Bank Services after the competition. For more information, visit http://www.canstruction.org/

And here are some pictures. The ribbon is a hunger awareness ribbon or something; the poster for it was kind of lame and hard to read in the picture.

Apartment Fun!

This morning, it was still dark when I woke up to the cat peeing on my bed. On the right of my head. Near my hand. Getting my cellphone wet.

"KEEEEEEEEEK," I groaned. "Youstuuuuuuuupidcat." The words slurred because I was still mostly asleep. She's pooped on my kitchen floor. She's pooped on and wet my couch and a blanket. And now my bed? UGHH. I hate this dumb cat.

But then she moved to the other side, and my phone kept getting wet. Huh?

So I sat up. And I realized that water was coming through my ceiling. A little bit right by me, and a lotta bit across the room.

I got up and turned the lights on, and put bowls out (THANK YOU, SMITHY'S for only selling sets of bowls when I needed one bowl to make Muddy Buddys last week!). I mopped. And mopped. And I moved my backpacking-backpack which had gotten wet. And I moved my free-from-school planner which I don't use anymore (and now couldn't if I wanted to because it was destroyed). And I mopped.

Apparently, the big crack across my ceiling is not just decorative--it's functional. Who knew?!

I looked outside to see if it was raining. It wasn't. But, I could tell when I went by the window, our boiler had been turned on. My house is finally warm. Huh. Must have had something to do with that.

The thing that really puzzled me was, I have hardwood floors everywhere in my house except my kitchen and bathroom. One thing I remember from California about hardwood floors is, if they get wet (even a little bit, repeatedly), they buckle. And the floors beneath the huge crack were very old and still very flat. Makes no sense.

I was still tired, so after the bowls were out, I went back to bed. The water wasn't gushing, or anything. Just dripping pretty quickly in like four places. Also, the big part of the crack is right by a wall that I share with a neighbor, so I'm sure it must affect him, too.

As I was falling back asleep, the dripping slowed. And then it seemed to stop. When I woke up for real-morning, it was almost like it had never happened. The floor was pretty dry. My stuff wasn't really too wet either. It came and went just like someone's turn in a game of Jumanji. The bowls were still out, though. The ceiling has water stains. The floor isn't quite as flat as it was.

The heat is still on, though, so hopefully it's just a starting-the-boiler thing. Or something.

(PS, the blue bucket was my mop bucket, so it already had some water in it when this started.)

Mustache Party?!

Today I bought some Body Shop oils to help me survive the awful cat stench. [NB: I clean the litter box multiple times per day, so I'm not a gross cat person, they just stink.]

I needed at least one tea-light to warm the stuff.

Smithy's didn't really have any except fancy expensive ones with pictures of spiders and Halloweeny things.

So I went to the Halloween store in search of just regular 'ole tea-light candle thingies. I expected I'd have to buy a big pack, but I was wrong--they didn't even have them. They just had the votive ones. So I got one of those instead.

But what I also found, which I'd never dreamed of before, was a MUSTACHE PARTY.

Whaaaattt? I had to have it. Because that would be a super fun party! So now I'm deciding whether I have 12 friends that would come, or 24. I'm planning to throw the party sometime after my house is clean and pretty (and cat-free).

This is an actual picture which I nabbed from an online store. Mine look the same. And below that is someone else's invitation. Doesn't it already make you wish you could come to this most excellent party?

Hogle Zoo

When Erin and I went to the YSA Summit thing, we had a few hours off during the afternoon.






We went to the zoo.

We saw the white aligator.

We took pictures with ferocious animals.

We saw the baby giraffe.

AND--this is why it's still worth blogging about way later--we saw an ape that had a water bottle. He was collecting water from his stream, and drinking it. It was excellent. See proof below.

Moving again. Part 8. Guy With Gold Foot Gets Evicted.

We stopped at the house and got out.

There was a VACANT sign on the mailbox.

The barbecue was gone.

The swing on the lawn was gone.

The fruit trees were gone.

There were mattresses on the side of the house.

The note on the front door was gone, but there was one on the side entrance (which I hadn't noticed on Thursday). It read: "Jeff S[last name] This home is under survailence. If you enter it or are seen on this property the police will be called. Reynold Cell [cell number]" Bizarre.

Of the covered garages, one was open and empty. The other one was closed. When I lifted the door, I saw the couch and chairs in the back of the garage and a little pile of firewood, and that was pretty much it.

I called Carlos. He and I were preparing to take Jeff to small claims court. What do we do now? I left him a message.

Then I called Reynold. I told him I saw the sign and I had been renting from Jeff when Jeff owned the house, and I lived there for two days and he kicked me out. I told him I'm trying to get my deposit back, and I wanted to know what the situation was with Jeff. I told him I wondered if they knew where he was, and I asked what the situation was.


Reynold said Jeff had never owned the house, that Jeff was renting from him. He said that Jeff hadn't paid his rent. He owed Reynold a lot of money. He had done a lot of damage to the property. He had misrepresented the situation with who was living in the house. He said they had evicted Jeff on 1 October.


I asked if Jeff even really had an excavation business.

Reynold said he thinks so. He said Jeff brought a Bobcat to the house and destroyed the property next door. He said they should have evicted him when he first started doing that stuff. He said Jeff has a minor handicap, and they were more patient with him than they should have been. He said Jeff is slow and with attitude.

The reason the sign was up, is, Jeff has threatened to cause damage to the property. (Poor Reynold!)

Reynold had heard that Jeff was moving to 27th South 13th East, but he said he'd been by the area a few times and not seen any of Jeff's vehicles.

I asked if he had Jeff's Drivers License number, or any identifying information that I could have to help with getting my deposit back. He said he would check with Will and see if they got that and he said he would call me back. [He hasn't called back in the past day.]

I called Carlos, and we talked about it. He said he had just just gotten Danielle's number. Danielle is a girl that Courtney had known, who was planning to sue Jeff for her money back. We hadn't really heard anything about it since Carlos and I got kicked out, though. He gave me the number and I said I'd call and find out how her stuff was going.


I called Danielle, and she was excited to hear from me. She didn't know about Carlos and I.

She was going to sue Jeff, but when the people tried to serve him papers, they couldn't ever find him. She says she's sure he's spent her money anyway, so she's suing Will and Reynold or whatever instead. They knew that he was doing bad stuff and didn't do anything about it, so it was their fault too. They have a court date in November.

There's a girl who is helping Danielle, who has been through it all before, or something, and just really wants to help. She really knows her stuff, Danielle said. She gave me her number and suggested I call her. She's helping some other girls who got kicked out before Danielle.

Danielle's story was, she and another girl were moving in. They thought it was a house of only girls. They had the basement room, downstairs, next door to Jeff. Danielle's friend moved her stuff in one night. The next morning? (I forget when) she was showering. Jeff opened the door and looked in for like 20 seconds. It totally freaked out her friend, because she didn't even know anyone else lived there. Let alone a man. Jeff called Danielle all mad because I guess her friend had moved in late the night before, and was loud. But they had thought the house was empty, so who cares. And I guess they talked.

When Danielle found out Jeff was living there too, she moved out the next day. She had paid like $850 and lived there for two days. Jeff at first said he wouldn't give her money back. Then he said he would. Then he said he wouldn't again.

Also, when the girl who is helping Danielle with the legal stuff looked Jeff up, I guess he's been arrested four times. For like domestic violence or disturbing the peace or something, and possession of illegal substances. (!)

So I finished talking to Danielle and let Carlos know about that.

AND THEN! Today Carlos texted me saying he has Jeff's personal number, and maybe we can use that to somehow find him? (Not sure how, but cool.)

He said he has it because Jeff was texting Courtney a couple nights ago!!! He was sending scary, weird stuff. Courtney replied because she didn't know who it was, and after a bit she called her dad to check the number. That was when she realized it was him.

I asked what Jeff had texted to Courtney. (Like, why is he even texting her when he kicked her out like 5 or 6 weeks ago?) Carlos said:

"Oh. Freaky stuff. I was there. Things like, 'a woman should learn loyalty' and 'this is the guy with the gold foot'. I don't know, he's scary."

This is the guy with the gold foot? What does that even mean?

Anyway. I will, of course, continue to update this story as more happens.

Moving again. Part 7. New House.

When we last left my moving story, I had moved out of the house that was in an excellent location but had a really weird landlord.

I was supposed to have a man call on the 15th to get my deposit back.

I was back in Draper with Jessica's in-laws again.

WELL, I kept not finding anything close to school, and I kept not finding anything available before October, until finally! I got a call about the house I had checked out right before I saw the one that I moved into. And I could move in!

So I had my phone line transferred again. I had the Internet set up. And I moved again!

This time, my house is really excellent. It was remodeled during I think World War II, if I remember correctly. They took a house and turned it into four totally separate apartments for officers, who were stationed at Ft. Douglas (?), which is up the street.

My Very Favorite Thing about this apartment is, since it was remodeled during the war, there wasn't exactly iron to go around. It was being used to make ammo and other war related goodies. And see, usually, bathtubs are porcelain-coated iron. So my bathtub is tiled instead. It's a box which has tile on the bottom and tile on the sides. It really is amazing.

Also, I'm pretty sure my house has not actually been cleaned since then either. It's kind of disgusting. Everything is caked in gross. Everything needs cleaning. Everything needs scrubbing. I started by cleaning the front door and my shower and antique bathtub. I've cleaned the kitchen cupboards, and part of my fridge and part of my stove. I'm looking forward to using my fall break to clean. I really, honestly, cannot understand how the girl before me lived like this. I really don't get it.

Anyway, it's mine now, and I love it. (I've been here for a few weeks.)

Another thing I would love is, my deposit back, from the stupid house with stupid Jeff. Well, Jessica's father-in-law has been calling Jeff since the middle of September, and he of course does not answer his phone.

On Thursday I was passing by, because I was headed up to campus for the farmer's market, and it looked kind of like Jeff didn't live there anymore. No way. There was carpet that had obviously been removed from the house, and a curious note on the front door that referred to another note which I expected to find on the back door, but nothing was there. I left.

And then this weekend, my little sister Tracy and her husband were in town. And on a double date with Tracy and her husband and his friend, somehow I mentioned something about this ridiculous ordeal, and Tracy didn't know what I was talking about. WHAT. Do you read my blog? She said she does sometimes, but she feels kind of like maybe she's reading private stuff, like it's my journal. I assured her that I really don't post anything private. And then everyone wanted to hear the story.

So I told them.

I told them about my desperate search for housing, and about finding the cute little house that was in such a perfect location. I told them about how Jeff was a little weird and turned out to be insane. I told them about moving in and about moving out, and about my roommates that I knew for just a couple days and became good friends with. I told them about the police and about the 15th of September and they were amazed. My date finally went home at almost 2 am, because the story was so long. That's a little late.

And then, when Tracy and Freddy brought me back up to Salt Lake yesterday, Tracy wanted to see the house from the story. So we went past...

Obligatory Cat Photos

Just to let you all know, I think once I'm done with these kitties, I never want cats again. And I don't think I'm exaggerating, either. In my chat with Brian about getting kitties, he told me not to become a crazy cat lady, and I said I wouldn't but now I am entirely confident that it will never be an issue. I've had several moments where I just want to step on them. Like spiders.


These beasts are loud. I let Keek out and when she isn't with the kitties, they cry. And when I make her be with the kitties, she cries. So I feel like there's constant cat noise. Even times when nobody needs anything, someone's crying. Usually it's the white kitten. It cries. Pick it up? It cries. Put it down? It cries. Let it be with Keek? It cries. Let it wander the house bothering things? It cries.

These cats smell. Awful. They make my whole house stink. I clean the litter box multiple times every day, and it seems like they fill it up as fast as I empty it. Also they eat a ton.

And no, I haven't named them. And no, I don't think I will. And yes, I'm heartless.

I really genuinely thought I would enjoy this, but I just don't at all. Hopefully I'll like them better in a couple weeks when everyone's bigger. Or something.

Anyway. Here are the pictures.


The white one (boy). Crying.
























Okay, this kitten I actually like. She sometimes cries, but the instant you pick her up, she starts purring like she's just so happy to be picked up. Also, she seems to be one of the smarter kittens.















Her practicing backing up, arching her back, and poofing out.

The gray one. She looks kind of mangy. Actually, she looks like a really old stuffed animal. She has long hair, and when you pick her up she weighs like nothing. She crawls really low to the ground, and moves really slowly, and sleeps when the other kittens play, so I think she's kind of the runt and maybe isn't eating dry food yet and needs more time nursing so that she can gain some weight.

One of the orange boys.

The other orange boy. Getting a bath, which he wanted none of. Also, Kiki.















The boys sleeping after eating.

(Blogger seems to always do weird stuff wtih my format, so I'm just going to post this and not worry about it today.)

Cutting Coupons

One thing that I did really like about Gold's Gym, was that when I would go running I had several tv stations to choose from. Depending on the time of day, I could always watch either Fox News or CNN, I could watch Seinfeld or Friends, or Law & Order was always on. Sometimes TNT would have a popular movie on.

Exercising on campus has not been quite the same. They have a new Cardio Theater(!) except, they're mis-informed. A cardio theater is a dark room with a big screen, which projects full-length movies, and instead of stadium seating it has treadmills and ellipticals and stair steppers and bicycles. A cardio theater is not four medium sized TVs that you can watch from a distance, just like you would watch normal TVs at the gym. But I digress.

On campus, there are always four stations on: the first TV is always on CNN. (Even though I would prefer Fox News, CNN is an acceptable choice, except for the fact that the first TV is so far off to the side that you can't really watch it from any of the treadmills. Lame! I tried to watch one time, and started running to the side and fell off the treadmill. Oops. Now I limit my CNN to when I'm on a bicycle.) The second TV is always on I don't know what, but it always has soap operas on. Or at least when I'm there it always does. Soap operas target the same people as tabloids do, I'm pretty sure, so... yeah, no. The third TV is always on like, the history channel, which would be interesting, except that a lot of times it's sooo sloooow moving and so much soft music, and not interesting fast enough, that it's just hard to watch while I'm running. And the content while I've been there has been hit and miss. Okay, it's been miss. The fourth TV is always on ESPN.

Anyway, not a lot of selection. No sitcoms. No dramas. No movies. Not even a cheesy gym music video channel. Just sports, stuff about Neanderthals, and soap operas. (Note: this makes me really consider buying one of those little portable DVD players, because I think I could set it up to watch while I was running, and I think it would be way more interesting to watch, say, The Office, or get caught up on Heroes or Pushing Daisies, than to squander valuable time with Dr.Phil.)

WELL, the soap opera channel switched to some program that was going to talk about personal finance, and since I love loved my Investments class this summer, I was all over that. It was just a little segment (of course they couldn't really do anything substantial about anything, well, substantial), but it was neat. It was about a lady who was feeding her family of 5 on like $10/week.

I really wondered how that was possible, because I spend hundreds of dollars on groceries every month, and I'm just one person.

Her husband wondered too, actually. He saw that she was bringing home huge things of groceries and spending like $5, or $20, and he thought she was doing something shady.

Turns out, she wasn't. She clips coupons. That's it. End of secret. A lot of coupons, though. She spends like 2 hours per week cutting coupons out, and she has this sweet binder that she organizes them in, and then she combines coupons with store sales, and she buys everything for a fraction of the actual cost.

Her family still eats name-brand stuff, too. She said she hasn't paid for pasta in years. (!!)Sometimes when she uses coupons with sales, she gets money back (which goes to other groceries, obviously--they don't pay her.)

I was amazed.

I want to do that!

So I decided that this week I would become a champion coupon-clipper. EXCEPT, of course I need like every Sunday paper.

Now, in California, you find these banks of newspaper boxes. There are a line of machines, and you approach one, you put your quarters in and the machine unlocks and you grab a paper. And nobody has to work on Sunday, and you can still have your paper.

I suspect Utah must have Sunday papers, but I just really don't know where. I haven't seen any of the newspaper boxes. We have newspaper boxes on campus, but they're part of the College Readership Program, and they're free to students. Nobody has school on Sunday, though, so they don't give us Sunday papers. I think grocery stores would carry Sunday papers, but I'm pretty sure my Smithy's is closed on Sundays. And even if they weren't, I don't know if breaking the sabbath over a newspaper (or several) is such a swell idea.

As far as I can tell, that leaves me with one option: subscribing. But I'm not too keen on that, because of my bad experience with the Daily Herald earlier this year. And who knows how long this hobby will last. I sort of expect to wind up with a bunch of coupons for dixie cups, which I don't really buy anyway, and olives, which I don't eat, and men's disposable razors, which I don't use either.

Here's my idea though: at the bottom of the receipt it always says how much you saved. If I took all the money that I was saving and put it in a savings account, I could start saving for this, which I've always wanted to do. And to go from hundreds of dollars every month on groceries, to like $30, I think it would add up pretty fast.