(no subject)
It turns out that Cobweb's kidney infection persists, so the vet has started us giving her different antibiotics which will continue for the next 3-4 weeks. These new antibiotics are in pill form, but Shannon and I now have a pill shooter (acquired one night after-hours at the vet, because we had despaired of pilling C without one -- my fingertips are still quite sore from all the times she bit me), and that makes it much less traumatic for everyone concerned. Also, Shannon has suggested that we pill her immediately before stabbing her for her subcutaneous fluids, because this means that we have a traumatic 15 minutes each day, instead of spreading the trauma out over hours and hours. So today we pilled her (which went remarkably well) and stabbed her (she still *really* doesn't like this), and it wasn't terrible. It makes me a little tired to think about doing these things every day for weeks on end, but you do what you have to do when you love your cat. It could be *much* worse.
Today Lisa and I had tapas for lunch, then hung out at her house and she showed me a YouTube video of Alice Walker reading a poem Lisa's girlfriend says reminds her of Lisa's living room (which contains a burgundy/maroon couch and recliner). It's a great video:
Lisa also showed me her favorite poem, which is e. e. cummings's "somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond":
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
After our poetry discussion, Lisa and I played the longest game of Dominion every played by two human beings. (Has there ever been a longer game played by three ferrets? I don't know.) Anyway, she built her deck with tons of cards that required repeated counting and complicated decisions (especially City and Salvager), then played about 10-12 of these time-eating actions every turn. Every one of her turns took 5-10 minutes, while I just sat there waiting, and she went through almost her entire deck each turn. Also, she kept screwing me over with her Rabble cards. Argh! At one point, she said it was her "best game of Dominion ever," by which I think she meant that it was her *highest scoring* game ... perhaps even *most skillfully executed game* ... but I definitely wouldn't call it her "best" game, because I didn't enjoy it much at all. By the time we were done (she won by about 150 to my 79), I really wasn't interested in playing a second game like we usually do. I don't mind losing -- not at all -- but I didn't much enjoy spending most of the game just sitting there twiddling my thumbs while she contemplated her gazillion possible decisions. In fact, I'd say that this was the first game of Dominion I've played in the last 3 years since it came out *without* enjoying it.
Maybe Shannon and I can play a game of Dominion tomorrow to get the icky metaphorical taste out of my metaphorical mouth. As long as I feel like I'm getting a decent chance to play, I'll enjoy it.
I was pretty burnt out on my walk home, and I was feeling rather annoyed with the crowds of people on the street. Today was Cal Day, the annual brouhaha which brings lots of random people -- whole families, in fact, which significantly increases the "kids in Berkeley" quotient -- from out of town to attend various events on the UCB campus. They're unfamiliar with the city, so they tend to sort of mill about in confusion, stand in inconvenient places on the sidewalk, and just generally make a nuisance of themselves. If I hadn't been feeling so drained by the Dominion Game of Doom, it wouldn't have bothered me so much.
Yesterday, Shannon accused me of being a "misogynist." This made me laugh rather raucously, which puzzled him greatly. It turned out that he had meant to say that I was a "misanthropist," because he thinks I hate people. Not individual people, just people as a species. I think he's totally wrong. I love people ... I love to talk to people ... I love to help people ... I love to try to understand people ... I love to learn about people ... I love to hug people and cuddle with people ... I love to share food with people and talk about books with people and share opinions with people and the whole deal. I tend to get to know cashiers at stores I frequent, talking to them about their lives, getting to know their names, and treating them as individuals instead of just "the person who takes my money when I buy ice cream." I have been known to have long, fairly intimate conversations with strangers at bus stops or in doctors' waiting rooms or in restaurants or on trains. I have close friends who are absolutely integral to my life, people I consider family, people I love deeply and trust completely, people with whom I share my most secret thoughts. I really love people, both individually and as a society or culture. In fact, one of my most persistent and long-time interests is understanding people and cultures that are different from me, through not only talking to people but also through reading books, watching foreign films, etc.
I just don't like to be social with people constantly, and I don't like to do it when I'm tired, and I don't like to do it with people who get in my way when I am trying to do something else I value (walk somewhere, read a good book, watch my favorite tv show, whatever) ... and I don't like to do it with people who are disrespectful of me or others. I need a lot of time to myself, but that doesn't mean I don't like to be with people ... part of the time. Like maybe a couple hours a day. But then I need to hide. And if I can't hide (for whatever reason), I tend to be a bit unfriendly. Is that a crime? Hrmph.
It's ironic, because I think I'm much more of a people person than Shannon is, that I like people much more than he does.
Today Lisa and I had tapas for lunch, then hung out at her house and she showed me a YouTube video of Alice Walker reading a poem Lisa's girlfriend says reminds her of Lisa's living room (which contains a burgundy/maroon couch and recliner). It's a great video:
Click to viewLisa also showed me her favorite poem, which is e. e. cummings's "somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond":
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
After our poetry discussion, Lisa and I played the longest game of Dominion every played by two human beings. (Has there ever been a longer game played by three ferrets? I don't know.) Anyway, she built her deck with tons of cards that required repeated counting and complicated decisions (especially City and Salvager), then played about 10-12 of these time-eating actions every turn. Every one of her turns took 5-10 minutes, while I just sat there waiting, and she went through almost her entire deck each turn. Also, she kept screwing me over with her Rabble cards. Argh! At one point, she said it was her "best game of Dominion ever," by which I think she meant that it was her *highest scoring* game ... perhaps even *most skillfully executed game* ... but I definitely wouldn't call it her "best" game, because I didn't enjoy it much at all. By the time we were done (she won by about 150 to my 79), I really wasn't interested in playing a second game like we usually do. I don't mind losing -- not at all -- but I didn't much enjoy spending most of the game just sitting there twiddling my thumbs while she contemplated her gazillion possible decisions. In fact, I'd say that this was the first game of Dominion I've played in the last 3 years since it came out *without* enjoying it.
Maybe Shannon and I can play a game of Dominion tomorrow to get the icky metaphorical taste out of my metaphorical mouth. As long as I feel like I'm getting a decent chance to play, I'll enjoy it.
I was pretty burnt out on my walk home, and I was feeling rather annoyed with the crowds of people on the street. Today was Cal Day, the annual brouhaha which brings lots of random people -- whole families, in fact, which significantly increases the "kids in Berkeley" quotient -- from out of town to attend various events on the UCB campus. They're unfamiliar with the city, so they tend to sort of mill about in confusion, stand in inconvenient places on the sidewalk, and just generally make a nuisance of themselves. If I hadn't been feeling so drained by the Dominion Game of Doom, it wouldn't have bothered me so much.
Yesterday, Shannon accused me of being a "misogynist." This made me laugh rather raucously, which puzzled him greatly. It turned out that he had meant to say that I was a "misanthropist," because he thinks I hate people. Not individual people, just people as a species. I think he's totally wrong. I love people ... I love to talk to people ... I love to help people ... I love to try to understand people ... I love to learn about people ... I love to hug people and cuddle with people ... I love to share food with people and talk about books with people and share opinions with people and the whole deal. I tend to get to know cashiers at stores I frequent, talking to them about their lives, getting to know their names, and treating them as individuals instead of just "the person who takes my money when I buy ice cream." I have been known to have long, fairly intimate conversations with strangers at bus stops or in doctors' waiting rooms or in restaurants or on trains. I have close friends who are absolutely integral to my life, people I consider family, people I love deeply and trust completely, people with whom I share my most secret thoughts. I really love people, both individually and as a society or culture. In fact, one of my most persistent and long-time interests is understanding people and cultures that are different from me, through not only talking to people but also through reading books, watching foreign films, etc.
I just don't like to be social with people constantly, and I don't like to do it when I'm tired, and I don't like to do it with people who get in my way when I am trying to do something else I value (walk somewhere, read a good book, watch my favorite tv show, whatever) ... and I don't like to do it with people who are disrespectful of me or others. I need a lot of time to myself, but that doesn't mean I don't like to be with people ... part of the time. Like maybe a couple hours a day. But then I need to hide. And if I can't hide (for whatever reason), I tend to be a bit unfriendly. Is that a crime? Hrmph.
It's ironic, because I think I'm much more of a people person than Shannon is, that I like people much more than he does.