Paint

So mom stripped the bathroom of all wallpaper, and we're deciding on a green to paint the room. Realizing I've not ever painted my room, I am now in the process of getting the borders off of my own bedroom walls. "So?", you ask? Sooo... I thought I'd put a link up to show you the color I'm seriously thinking of painting my rat room. Oh, also probably getting new carpet in the next few months. Just a complete redo of my room!

http://porter.voiceofcolor.com/
en/inspicafe/voc/harmony/
voc_inspi_content.asp?harmony_id=3&swatch_id=3

Hopefully that link will work. I'm thinking the Flax color (114-3, the bottom color on the five color swatch that's shown). If you want to see the picture larger, just click it. It's a nice bright yet soft yellow. I'm really liking it.

For those who have seen my other room... no color has been chosen for the bedroom. But it will likely be a gentle shade of lavender.

Update:

Jasmine seems to be stable at the moment - thank you to those I've talked to and who've had her in your thoughts. If I can get her to purr, she feels good enough to eat, so it's promising. She and Khan actually got in a fight a few nights ago because he came into my - excuse me, her - bedroom and tried to eat her treats. She's very protective of my rooms.

I'm just happy I can get her to purr again. And eat some. If we can get her stable we can maybe do surgery on her eye and perhaps let her live longer - assuming she makes it through the anesthesia. So while stable, she's definately still sick. But she spends time with me again and purrs and gives me kitty kisses, so I'm as happy as I can be right now.

Now, for a song. Mostly because it amuses me, and works well for the work I've been doing with the photography website.

Making Memories

Music and lyrics by the Sherman Brothers

Long before the old Model T
Round about the turn of the century
Folks discovered a barrel of fun
Takin' pictures by the light of the sun

Smile, hug, look at the camera
Hold your breath and say cheese...
Little did they realize back then
They were makin' memories

(chorus)

Makin' Memories, makin' memories
Takin' pictures is makin' memories
Catching little pieces of time
Makin' them yours, makin' them mine

Birthday faces and happy places
We love to hold near and dear
When we're makin' memories
Happy days can reappear!

Then the flappers appeared on the scene
Rumble seats and 20 cent gasoline
Radios and Dixieland Jazz
Brownie cameras and razzmatazz
Snap shots, hug the whole family
Give that button a squeeze
Little did they realize back then
They were makin' memories

(chorus)

Realizations and celebrations
We can forget in a year
But when we're makin' memories
Happy days can reappear

Now we shoot whatever we see
Night or day in color photography
Candid shots of baby at play
Photo finishes and tigers at bay

Hey don't look into the camera
Let's be natural please...
And with every single shot we take
We are makin' memories

(chorus)

Great vacations and graduations
We love to hold near and dear
And when we're makin' memories
Happy days can reappear

One More Time...

(chorus)

Look at the Birdie!...

Jasmine

Before I say anything, really, this is me talking about it. If I want to talk more, I'll bring it up with you myself. But right now, I can't talk to anyone. I just can't. So bear with me.

My precious, precious kitty is dying, and is living on borrowed time. I don't know how much longer she'll be with me, but suffice it to say I don't know anymore if she'll still be breathing when I wake up in the mornings, or what I'll do without her when she's gone. I love her dearly, and she's one of the few that always seems genuinely happy to see me when I come home, and comforts me when I'm sick or sad.

I'm not sure if I'd mentioned on here before, or just talked to a few people about it, but she's been sick for close to a year now. She went to the kitty ER a few months ago because we were trying to find out what was wrong. She's had a nasty infection in her lungs that we've not been able to get rid of - just keeping it from getting worse and keeping her comfortable has been difficult enough. She's been given meds daily - sometimes twice daily - for months now as well.

She wheezes when she breathes, and it's obvious just how much effort it is for her, as her sides are heaving with the action. She'd lost her appetite a while back, but after several months of meds, she began to play again (I've not been able to get her to really play with her feathers for almost a year now, she's been too tired) and breathe easier and eat more and just seem healthier. She still would wheeze, but it was more residual, as her lungs were already so damaged from the infection they wouldn't heal. Fine, that's understandable. She would stop wheezing if we were scratching her so she'd purr.

Yesterday we noticed something wrong with her eye, and mom took her to the vet immediately. He had the feeling it was a tumor in her eye, and what we saw were the burst blood vessels and blood clots. Today she went to the kitty opthomologist, and he confirmed it. She's also not eaten for the last week, has become very lethargic, and just looks miserable, yet all she wants is loving. To be petted, loved, adored. The little things in life that make it so grand.

We have two options from here. One is that we remove her eye. The kitty eye doctor said he didn't think it was the spreading kind or cancer, so that should take care of it. If we leave it as it is, it'll keep putting pressure on her eye and on her brain, probably causing her lots of pain she won't let on to. However, he and the vet are both very worried that she's not strong enough to undergo the anesthesia for such a surgery, and that she wouldn't pull through being put under. She's weak, her lungs are weaker, and she's lost a half a pound in the last month or so. She's less than a six pound kitty - so that's a lot. She's so terribly bony right now.

The second option is just wait until her quality of life is such that we have to put her down. Which, after seeing her tonight, could be any day now. She didn't even fight when we tried to give her her medicine. She can't even keep it down now. I can't get her to purr, and her breathing is even more labored than I'm used to seeing. Any strength she has had is gone now, after two stressful vet visits in two days. My precious, precious Jasmine is a fighter, but she's not immortal. No one can fight forever, not even my sweet kitty.

I've never seen her so pitifully weak and unfighting. I can't even imagine the pain she's coping with right now. Even if she was strong enough to have the surgery, mom and I aren't sure if she'll make it long enough to be able to have it done. It's like someone just punched me in the gut. She was doing fine... and now she's pretty much on Death's doorstep. It's killing me. She's made it clear to everyone that I'm her person, and she's my kitty, regardless of who feeds her and pays the bills. She's even taken to sleeping with me at night under the covers now that the dog no longer sleeps on my bed. She's not even done that for the last few days.

The vet basically told us, without telling us, that there's very little we can do for her now besides keeping her as comfortable as possible. Nothing. IF she makes it through the surgery, she is still dying, slowly. How is it that the kitty that acted like a kitten for so very long is the one that has been dealt this hand of cards? Why not the grossly overweight Khan, who doesn't play, doesn't move more than necessary, just lies in his food bowl? Not that I wish him any harm, it's not that... but why? Why isn't it the walking heart-attack-waiting-to-happen kitty instead of the one that was fit, was healthy, was a fighter, was a grown cat that didn't know she wasn't still a kitten? Why?

I know it's an overused expression, but it's not fair. While I'd say it's not fair for me, that's not the case. It's not fair for Jasmine. Why must it be a perfectly healthy cat that suddenly has her life cut shorter than anyone expected, why must it be her that has to suffer through this? Why must it be the one that's always been so happy to see me because of who I was, and not for what I could offer or provide? Why must it be my friend, my confidant? The one that would mope for days after I returned to school after being home for a weekend, who would and still does sit outside my door, waiting for me? Why?

I'd keep rambling on, though I doubt I've made many coherent sentences, but I can no longer read my screen through the tears. I'm sobbing too hard to see what I've typed, so I apologize for any typos.

I think I'm going to be sick.

Til The Last Shot's Fired

So, I did some fashion policing with dad with the CMA awards last night (Seriously Carrie? That dress was horrid!) and managed to somehow catch the most amazing performance of the night. It had to have been. I don't think even if I'd watched the entire show I'd have been able to find a more heartbreaking, tearjerking, send-chills-up-my-spine song if I tried. I thought In Color was a chilling song.

It doesn't hold a candle to this song. I have to download it. Even if it sends a million chills down my spine. Kudos to Trace Adkins and the West Point Glee Club.




I was there in the winter of '64
When we camped in the ice
at Nashville's doors
Three hundred miles our trail had led
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton hill was a living hell
When we called retreat it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart

Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired

In June of 1944
I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart poundin' in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud
As I lay there dying from a loss of blood

Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired

I'm in the fields of Vietnam,
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hopin', waitin', prayin'
I did not die in vain

Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set our spirits free
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary we're so tired
But we can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
'Til the last shot's fired

[Choir:]
Say a prayer for peace (for peace)
For our daughters and our sons
Set our spirits free (set us free)
Let us lay down our guns

[Trace:]
Sweet mother Mary, we're so tired
But we can't come home (No
we can't come home)

[Choir:]
'Til the last shot's fired

New Car and Photography

Random news:

We have a new car. Mom calls it the Jelly Bean, I call it the jelly belly. It's a mazda mx-5 I believe? Little two seater convertable. It's cute. Sooner or later I'll have to learn how to use a stick shift I guess.

Also, currently making a website for photography. A couple of you have seen various jpeg versions of my ideas, so now I'm onto making it work in html form. We shall see how horribly I do. Unless it changes, it's partly a photo gallery and partly a freelance business in which I'd like to profit from. (Hint: If you need or know others that need pictures, pleeeease call me.) It is also currently called Sapphire Skies Photography, with cobalt links and sapphire text, and a randomized picture at the top of the page with the site name. Hopefully it all works out. ^^

Almost spring...

Today's the first day in a very long time that I have had my windows open. It has been a blissful, invigorating experience. Went to Claddagh's today for lunch, had the Monte Cristo and a pint of pub ale, and enjoyed the spectacularly beautiful St. Patrick's day - one even Ireland would approve of! There's fresh air streaming through the house, clearing out all the remnants of winter, and all the animals are enjoying the breeze.

I hope you, too, have had a great day. Keep on smiling!

Reflections

In high school, I had people telling me all the time that I should become a teacher. I laughed - quite loudly, actually - in their faces. If they'd told me that five years later, I'd have my mind changed... I'd have said they were more insane than a goaltender. IE, me. If you'd said I'd become an academic, sure, I could have bought that. But a teacher? No way!

And now.... that's what I want to do. I've even grown to enjoy teaching high schoolers, as moody and full of attitude and random as they are. I realize this as I hit my desk with my head - repeatedly. Until it bruises.

Did I just give myself a concussion?

I'm sad to learn that a TA position at UC doesn't mean teaching. It means assisting the teacher with grading. It apparently works much differently than Miami used TAs. But grad school isn't the focus of this thought.

Just the fact that... well... I enjoy teaching. And being around high schoolers. And academics. And other educators. I love it. Honestly, a bad day at school is better than a great day at my other job. Not because the other job sucks, but its not education. It's not with kids that make life cool. It's not with academics and people who enjoy teaching. While I'm not too keen on 5 am wake up calls asking if I can sub, I look forward to days that I have planned ahead to sub. I have kids actually seeming happy to see me when they see I'm subbing for them now. While some classes have turned me into a bitch when it comes to having to keep control, that's a rarity. They respect me, I respect them and let them get by with quite a bit. They give me attitude, there's no talking. Period. Or ipods. Never cell phones. But kids actually stop me in the halls to say hi and see how I'm doing, and why haven't I subbed for their teachers lately?

That's a feeling that is just pretty hard to beat. I feel like I can and have made a difference, small as it is. And that's just one of the best feelings in the world.

I've also been considering whether or not to make a photograph blog. Where I post a picture every day (give or take). Thoughts?

Gimpy

The fog comes on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
~Carl Sandburg

It has been a while, and for that, I apologize. I have good news and bad. I shall start with the bad, so that my post ends on a good note.

I found out on Friday that one of my favorite teachers ever - a well-loved art teacher from middle school - died Thursday from a two year battle with cancer. He nicknamed me "Gimpy" because, well, I was always hurt. Really not much differently than now. During that time I had torn a ligament, gone to the hospital for a few days because I couldn't walk, ran into walls, cut myself, bruised myself, twisted things, became familiar with faceplants to the floor.

He was one of those way-cool teachers people loved to have - even if it was a little off-beat. Coolness is often off-beat, though. He made art fun - and he's one of the main reasons I still invest so much time into my artworks. He got mom and I both involved involunteering at the schools, though mom earlier and moreso than myself. He came to each and every one of my art competitions, and gave me guidance on how to better improve my skills. I was actually just thinking of calling him the other day, see how things were going, see if he wanted any help in the classroom while I had days off to do so and wasn't in school. You know, give back to the guy who gave me so much.

Now while only one or two of you even may have known him, it doesn't matter to me right now if those few of you who read this know or care. I need to explain, and keep it for myself. I graduated with his son, and I haven't seen him since graduation... and I'm sharply reminded of how delicate life is, and how quickly time moves us forward into the future. It was strange enough while being at Miami to think that I had graduated high school already - even stranger subbing at the high school now and not thinking that, well, I belong there. It is home, and the people are family. I could fill this blog with 'I wish'es and 'I shoulda's, but that'd only annoy you and depress the hell out of me. I wish I could have said goodbye. I wish I could have given back. I wish -

The list is endless, and it should be. Because it drives home, to me, that even when I'm having issues with my health, when I can't get the energy to drag myself out of bed, when I'm sick of being at work because I had a bad day... I can't take it for granted that the people I know are there with me. That I need to say what I feel or think or such when I think and feel it. That I need to tell people how I feel so that they always know where they stand with me. I have few enough people that I trust with everything to not give them that respect and knowledge. It's one of the reasons I always make an effort to tell both of my parents that I love them before we split ways - to sleep, to go to work, run errands. Though the likelihood of anything happening in that time is minimal - it can happen. Just over a year ago dad had a heart attack. What if he'd not survived it? There was no warning. So every night, before every trip in the car if others are home, we remind each other of the love. Because we never know.

"Success is blocked by concentrating on it and planning for it... Success is shy - it won't come out while you're watching."
-Tennessee Williams

That was the quote from my little day-by-day calendar for the weekend. Pretty fitting given my news.

So, I've pretty much resigned myself to reapplying to grad schools again... this fall. I mean come on. Crappy economy? Check. A non-4.0 GPA in college? Check. An intent to study military history? Check. Refusing to go if I don't have a full ride? Check. Competing against a HUGE increase in people applying to graduate schools? Double check. Yeah, prospects look... erm... great. Not.

Add to this getting a letter in the mail from UC (University of Cincinnati for those certain people that don't know.) Mom throws it at me. Not good news. It's like one sheet thick. Horrible news. Nothing good comes from colleges in one sheet. Ever. I found that out last year. (I learned a lot about applying to grad schools last year. And the resultant mailers.) Instead of pitching it like I intended - why do I want to look at another rejection letter? I have enough from last year - I opened it. I didn't apply to UC last year because the application date was different than I thought it was. SO I wanted to open it and see how they phrased rejections.

Note: Places like Uni of Tennesee? They don't sugarcoat it. And aren't too kind about it.. they rather come off as the opposite. Other places like to break it to you easy. (I like these types of places. I don't feel like such a complete failure.) Other's just tell you as it is without any spin on it. "I regret to inform you.."

We all know how these letters start. All rejections start in a similar fashion. Unless it's like job searching, where they just don't respond. That's also a pretty easy way to figure out you suck.

So imagine my suprise when my one-page letter mailed to me starts out: "I am pleased-"

Wait what? Pleased!?

"-to inform you that the Department of History has voted to admit you to the M.A. program in the fall quarter of this year and to offer you a Graduate Teaching Assistantship-"

Teach! I got my teaching assistantship!

"- [....], plus a University Graduate Scholarship. Assuming satisfactory academic progress, in the second year of the MA you will also be offered a Graduate Teaching Assistantship..."

Now, I took out how much they're offering me - you can IM me if you want to know, it's better than what Louisville offered me last year for sure - but HOORAH! An assumed full ride (tuition plus fees, if I am correct) plus a stipened teaching assistantship?

If nothing else, I am going to grad school this fall. I'm waiting for all the other schools now, but I have at least a strong offer that will be hard to turn down. I can save so much money staying home and having free food, rent, and insurance. And I really don't feel safe living much closer to campus than I already do. It sure isn't Miami. But it offers me education, a job, and free tuition. And a purpose. And a warm fuzzy feeling inside. I like warm fuzzy feelings inside.

So that's that. The good, the bad, the ugly. And a bit of stuff in between.

Star Wars Quotes

Though not what I'd first intended when I made this post - I'd intended to talk about ice and snow - I decided to light on some Star Wars quotes. Why, do you ask? Well... mostly because of the one on Wookieepedia today. It cracked me up. And then I figured I'd post others that also amused me. I know, before I post this, that only one - or maybe two - people will get the quotes. Especially since they will be taken out of context and likely irrelevant for anyone who has not read the expanded universe in Star Wars. I shall put the books that the quotes were taken from if applicable (or known - I'm using wookieepedia to help me as I don't feel like typing them up myself) or some such reference. Basically, I plan to post several of the ones that make me laugh. Regardless if anyone else gets them. Becaue they make me happy. Sooo, enjoy, those of you who get the jokes!


--------------------

GM: "Jedi is your character class. You're sort of warriors with arcane abilities—"
Qui-Gon: "Like fighter/mages?"
GM: "—fighting for justice."
Obi-Wan: "Ah, paladins."
GM: "No. You draw upon the power of the Force—"
Qui-Gon: "The Force?"
GM: "The Force is an energy field—"
Obi-Wan: "Energy? But energy is force times distance."
Qui-Gon: "And 'power of the force' would be distance times the derivative with respect to time."
GM: "You're monks."
Qui-Gon: "Got it."
Obi-Wan: "But monks can't wield—"
Qui-Gon: "Shut up. He'll take away our laser swords!"
―Star Wars gaming session role-played in Darths & Droids


--------------------

Wedge: "Commander Wedge Antilles and Wraith Squadron reporting for duty, sir."
Han: "Welcome aboard Mon Remonda. Let's get the rest of your pilots in...so I can get out of this torture suit."
Wedge: "But, sir, I was just going to say how smart you looked in your uniform. I think we ought to stay here, in uniform, a couple of hours so the holographers can capture the image. You know, for the historians."
Han: "Wedge, I think I'm going to have you killed."
Wedge: "Yes, sir. I trust you'll wear your dress uniform for an event like that."
Han: "You know, I'd be the laughing stock of the New Republic if I ever brought up one of my officers on charges of insubordination."
Wedge: "Yes, sir, I was sort of counting on that."
― X-Wing: Iron Fist


--------------------

"Blackmoon Eleven, what did you think you were doing going after an entire squadron?"
"My job."
"That's 'My job, sir.'"
"My job, sir."
"Son, if you develop piloting skills in proportion to your nerve, someday they'll call you the greatest pilot of all time.... Blackmoon Eleven, are you still there?"
―Gavin Darklighter and (unbeknownst to Gavin) Wedge Antilles, Enemy Lines II: Rebel Stand


--------------------

Celchu: "I've been reviewing engineering records and damage statistics."
Janson: "While we've been maneuvering?"
Celchu: "Restraining myself so you could keep up with me left me plenty of time for intellectual pursuits. I also composed a symphony and drafted a plan to bring peace to the galaxy. Anyway, without shields, these things come apart under any missile hit. But they're structurally tough, more so than X-wings, so they hang together after taking more collateral damage or laser hits. I'd like to see how much maneuverability they lose with a set of shields, hyperdrive, maybe a gunner's seat installed. If it's not too great a loss, we may have a viable fighter-bomber here, something useful in fleet actions against capital ships."
- X-Wing: Starfighters of Adumar

--------------------

Darklighter: "Is there a problem here, Private?"
Trooper: "Sir, I tried to stop them, sir, but they said it would be okay to enter your office. They said you wouldn't mind."
Darklighter: "Did they? And did they say who they were?"
Trooper: "Just some old guys, sir."
Darklighter: "And you let them in there? Why didn't you stop them?"
Trooper: "I tried, but they took my blaster away from me."
Darklighter: "And your comlink?"
Trooper: "They took that, too. They told me to wait here for you, otherwise I'd be guilty of abandoning a post, sir."
*****
Darklighter: "He described you as 'two old guys.'"
Antilles: "No respect among the young anymore, is there, Tycho?"
Celchu: "None, Wedge, none at all. Probably the fault of the command staff."
Darklighter: "What are you two doing here?"
Antilles: "We heard from various sources that you're going to be going to war." We're too old to fly, but not to help out. You need us, you've got us."
Darklighter: "You may want to reconsider that offer. This isn't going to be pretty at all."
Celchu: "War never is, Gavin. Let's just hope, together, we can make it very short."
- Dark Tide I : Onslaught

--------------------

Wedge: "A noble of Cartann comes to you and says, 'I know we have no diplomatic relations yet, but I'm here to request asylum in the New Republic.' What do you say?"
Wes: "Is she good-looking?"
- X-Wing: Starfighters of Adumar

--------------------

Wes: "Diplomacy means saying something soothing as you squeeze the trigger, right?"
- X-Wing : Starfighters of Adumar

--------------------

"They're just... different. Hand them an ordinary set of instructions and they'll carry them out in an ordinary fashion. Hand them an objective without instructions and they accomplish it some strange way. Like that whole fake Millennium Falcon ploy, and what Piggy was doing, and the data they got off Commenor's planetary computer net. I'm having a hard time anticipating them."
―Wedge Antilles to Wes Janson, X-Wing: Wraith Squadron

--------------------


"Pirates," Piggy said, interrupting. The Gamorrean settled into a stuffed chair situated between Janson's sofa and the bar, near Donos and Castin.

"Pirates to you, too," Phanan said. "Is that a new greeting? Something Gamorrean? 'Scabrous pirates to you this morning.' "

" 'And bleeding pirates to you.' " Face gave his wingman a formal bow.

- X-Wing series

--------------------

Wes: "Sure. It's simple. You're dead. I'm not. Let me demonstrate." He stood up on his bed, then began bouncing up and down. "Did you ever do this as a kid?"
Myn: "Of course."
Wes: "Did you ever do it as a grown-up?"
Myn: "Of course not."
Wes: "You say 'of course' a lot, and it's always wrong. Tell me, Myn. How do I look?"
Myn: "Well, stupid."
Wes: "Exactly! When was the last time you looked stupid?"
Myn: "I don't know."
Wes: "Try to understand this. I'll say it slowly. I want you to remember it for the rest of your life. You can't look dignified when you're having fun."
- X-wing: Solo Command

--------------------

Wedge: "Sithspit! What's that?"
Wes: "That's the sun, Wedge. It's after dawn."
Wedge: "Well, it offends me. Turn it off."
Wes: "It's a hundred thirty, hundred forty million klicks from here."
Wedge:"Go up in your X-wing and shoot it down for me."
- X-wing: Starfighters of Adumar

January Update

I figure I should go ahead and post again... I'm sorry I keep forgetting to. It's been hectic. You'll hear why.

1. Grad Apps (again) - they still suck to fill out. Grad school = good. Apps = bad.
2. Archivers - working just often enough to not be home, not enough to get full time benefits or a set schedule.
3. Subbing - I began substitute teaching at Mason, and am about to for Lakota and Kings. Meaning once I do, I'll balance four jobs.
4. Make that five jobs - still doing freelance this and that when I'm not subbing and working at Archivers and sleeping.
5. Planning the glitter takeover of Winnipeg. Why, do you ask? Because I know it'd annoy Leigh to get another glittery card. This time, it's glitter war.
5. Still getting Cris' Christmas stuff together *shifty eyes* I can't send it yet, because I keep finding stuff to send!
6. Getting sick - I've already gotten two bugs from Archivers. And not the cute crawly types. The make-you-sick types. The types I could live without.
7. Working manias at Archivers - so much fun, so very much work. That's why I get the added bonuses to do it I guess.


Speaking of Archivers/Mania stuff, I've gotten great reviews. That makes me a happy - if tired - person. Only thing I was told to improve on from last mania was... go ahead, laugh - to be louder. All but what, one or two of you have seen me in action. You know how quiet I am not. I've been a goalie, a referee (and now, a sub >.<), I am anything but quiet. My boss heard me across the store, over mania, and over the other customer chatter. She said I scared her I was so loud, each time I made announcements. We were both amazed that I was told to be louder, because I had people pleading with me to lower my voice. But if that's the only complaint, it's not bad. It really isn't. And I'm slowly learning the ropes. Which is nice. And I have some kick-ass co-workers that make the job fun. Of course, I come home covered in glitter and paper cuts. But if that's the worst your job does to you I guess it's not that bad. :)

Got some sweet stuff at Christmas. New to-go pocket camera. Awesome books. Etc.

My ratties are being sweet little angels still, and my gerbils are as well.

My hands are covered in bandaids to keep from re-cutting my fingers with the paper.

Still planning the glitter revolt. Have some awesome plans in mind.

Cris is in Mexico, so I wish her a very safe trip back to Texas later this week.

And with that, adieu!