Aug 08

Dinner, the Great Leap Forward

I can’t speak for other bipolars, but when I’m down like I have been the past couple weeks I don’t turn into some Robert Smith or Morrissey-esque emo buzzkill. Stereotypes are a bitch.

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Besides, I’ve always been more of the Peter Lorre type.

No, the real problem is I can’t get anything done. When getting up before 5 p.m. becomes a major accomplishment, things like cooking become about as feasible as making steel in my backyard.

Well, assuming I had a backyard. (Nothing like throwing in a random, snarky Chairman Mao reference, is there?)

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Jun 05

History Wednesday: Frequency Manipulation

Today I took my daughter swimming at the condo association pool next to the Command Center. Being an exceptionally nice day in Boise, some of the neighborhood kids were already there. One of them had her iPhone or whatever plugged into a speaker, playing her list of jammin’ MP3s. This experience proved to be exactly as excruciating as it sounds.

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You’d better “Beliebe” it.

Replace Justin Bieber with, say, Wham! and the iPhone with that noted paragon of past 2T culture, Z-103, and you’d have a scene very reminiscent of the Putt n’ Plunge during the mid-80s. Of course, my mind working the way it does I thought to myself, “Hey, it could have been Z-43.”

No, I’m not making an obscure Ed Wood reference here.

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Apr 06

My Festering Feline Fracas

There are advantages to having cats. Once they realize you’re not a threat, they’re very loyal. They pretty much take care of themselves, so leaving them alone for a couple days is no big deal. I haven’t had a dog since I was 10, so at this point I’m just used to having them around.

They’re also royal pains in the ass. Especially my cats. Especially lately.

A couple weeks ago I mentioned my allergies and the havoc they cause to my upper respiratory system. A primary cause of this is the Pyramid Brothers, who both revel in such things as waking me up by sticking their faces into mine, as well as giving the sheets a nice, thick coat of cat hair.

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“You’re welcome.”

Because of the way the Command Center is laid out, I have to keep my bedroom door open to allow them access to the cat box. There’s simply no other place to put it. However, I have a second bedroom which is strictly off-limits to the Pyramid Brothers. It’s the room Beachy uses when she’s here. When she’s not here it’s simply left vacant. Until recently, that is.

A few days ago I got the bright idea to sleep in there to alleviate my allergy problems. I can close the door, and kitty cats can’t get inside to irritate me in every sense of the word. Brilliant! Why the hell didn’t I think of this earlier?

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Nothing but clear skies, chirping birds and shit like that now!
Image credit: David Benbennick

Well, you’d think that, but no. Both cats, Djoser in particular, have become particularly clingy and codependent since I made the switch. I can barely go 10 minutes on the computer anymore without him nosing my hand in a blatant attempt to be petted. He’s done so once already during this writing.

Periodically during the night, they try to break into the room. When I wake up in the morning, they’re both sitting in the doorway. When I go to the bathroom, I always have company. During the few moments they’re not in my face, they’re chasing each other, tearing ass all through the Command Center. Yeah, they did that before, but not to this extent or ferocity. They run as fast as they can, claws fully extended, back and forth, over and over again. I’m surprised they haven’t torn a hole in the carpet yet.

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They didn’t exactly install high-end Berber in here.

Feline behavior modification techniques have proven futile. Neither one likes cat treats. Neither one responds to being sprayed with water (hell, Sneferu actually LIKES it). At this point I merely hope they mellow out as they age, as the late, great Loki did.

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He didn’t give a rat’s ass about much of anything.

Problem children they are, they’re still my buddies. I guess I’ll keep them around for awhile.