Cosand's Xanga

Tired of attire

Sat, 19 Jul 2008 01:47:45 GMT

Howdy,

As I type, I’m sitting here with a puffy fake chest and tights on. K Yeah… dressing up as Batman takes a certain amount of humility. (Who exactly has the chest to fit in these things? I honestly don’t know) All in all, it has been a rather frustrating time for looking/dressing to keep the world happy.

First off, there’s the hair. I don’t care about hair. I figure let it grow, and when it bugs ya? Crop the sucker off and let the cycle continue. Apparently that’s not allowed. My female friends who think I’m a nice guy and deserve to be single “if only you’d make a few changes…” Of course, one of those changes is hair. Since I have the wavy gene, I’m supposed to encourage the waviness. Which involves letting it grow past my ear. Like a frickin’ British band from the ‘60’s. I have never sang to Rhonda to help me out, nor do I feel like letting myself become a moptop. I wouldn’t say that I’m too worried about this whole “let your hair grow out thing”, mainly because it involves me doing absolutely nothing. But the part where I’m supposed to think about it? Supposed to exert any effort in what is essentially head-covering? That’s the part that’s not really me.

Then there are clothes. Jeans and flannel. That’s really all I ever want. I can sleep in jeans. I can run in jeans (not entirely comfortable… but I’ve done it) Three piece suits do not excite me. Wearing khakis to work makes me raise an eyebrow. Just let me wear what I want! (To be fair, 1.2 of my 2.2 jobs lets me do that, so I’m really doing okay) The concession I’m allowed is that I get to wear shorts at my job. Which is only half as much khaki as normal. Not a huge improvement, but still. However, should I wear any pair of shorts? I get comments on how skinny my legs are (I myself is rather slim, and I run. The end.), and also how pale. I don’t plan on tossing pounds onto my legs or embarking on the adventure of fake & baking, so I just accept it and roll on.

Of course, there are “special occasions”. Like tonight. Batman opening weekend. Shaved off my goatee a few days ago. The amount of terrain that you’re supposed to cover before work? What’s just silly. The cuves, the ump, the digps. It’s all too much for my simple style. Leave me my goatee any day. But Batman has no goatee, so the extra work is needed.

Finally, let’s talk about the attraction aspect. There’s quite the noticeable difference. Put me in a batsuit on opening weekend of a The Dark Knight, and the sheer number of femaes that will check me out/smile/glance my way is about 50/50. If I see a gal I think is attractive, especially if they’re in their 20’s, odds are they’ll probably look my direction, and a smile will come across their face. Kinda bugs the spit out of me. On most days? Days when I’m just trying to be me? They hand me their ticket and walk on by. Only if I’m dressed a “certain way”, do I garner female attention. (And no, I don’t think it is silly/curiousity. Quite often I’ll hear “Oh my…!” of excitement, or even, “that’s so awesome!”. So I take the smiles as a positive reinforce. Even if this suit is friggin’ uncomfortable to wear properly.

There are of course, a few exceptions. My closest friends just don’t care. Well, okay. Let me refine that. The Missus doesn’t care. She’s the best friend, I’m her best friend, we love each other just the way we are. My other quite-good friend doesn’t care what I wear. When invited to her birthday a few years ago, I asked if there was anything resembling a dress code and her response was, “Oh, like I’d care about that.” However, she does think that the hair should grow out. Hence one strong opinion that makes me pretend I care about this follicle mass atop my head.

Science is now starting to say that people with deeper voices tend to be more attractive. The the creation of the vocal characteristics of deep-throated people leans more toward mirror-reflected attributes. And if someone’s face is symmetric, they’re ranking of “attractive” goes up much higher than those that aren’t. How you sound may be tied into to how others see you.

Ow. Ow ow ow. For me, this is all too much to consider. I’d like to just keep it simple. Ya know what I find attractive? A gal of average height wearing a ponytail and jeans. Glasses are a definite plus. Thin is nice too. That’s about it! I’m sure facial qualities figure in there, but as to attire? What you can do to “spiff” yourself up? I’d really just like them to wear clothes. The more casual, the better. Simple! The way God intended it! Or so I tell myself. I reckon we were made a certain way, and our interests/how much we care about appearance was given to us. So why not just relax and let God’s little ball of messiness have a little less time spent in front of the mirror than Miss Universe?

It makes sense to me. But I’m just a scruffy guy in a batsuit. Toodles!

-PC, deteremind to start growing back his nice, simple, fuzzy tattoo as quickly as he can

Move away from the (self-)center(edness)

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 21:08:15 GMT

Howdy!

If there're stumbling blocks I have in life, (which I'm sure there are) then one of them must be self-centeredness.

I'm a Batman fan. And a projectionist. Therefore I feel that I should be able to see The Dark Knight now. Right this second. But I shouldn't have to do much work in getting it built, because then I might have some surprise scenes ruined for me!

...doesn't quite add up, does it? Especially when you figure it takes about 10-12 hours just to splice the 45 pieces (plus 2 trailers!) into one big piece. And I wasn't really there for any of it. Yet, a part of me still wanted my coworkers to keep toiling away, get as much finished. Kinda unreasonably since they had both been awake for nigh-on 24 hours.

I realized all this as I was driving to work. Figured I should just keep my head down, humble myself, and realize that it happens when it happens. That it's not about me and I didn't need to rush them.

Why was I rushing? Because it's a Saturday. Which means they were more likely to finish it on an early Sunday morning than a late Saturday night. That's a fine line for me. I don't work the Sabbath. I think that God's day should be kept holy. So I don't work that day. For anyone. For any reason. Niet.

However, I do give myself an escape clause. Back when I was in college, they started scheduling me for shifts in which I wouldn't get off until 1 or 1:30 in the morning. So I figured 24 hours is a good number, and I'll just start my "Sunday" when I got home. In this case, I felt that if we could start the movie @ 11:59, then I'd be home around 3 and that's perfectly reasonable to A: get to church in an awake state, B: give God (and let's be honest, myself) a 24 hour break from workville.

But with the delays that happen here and there in the film industry (mechanical tweaks took longer than hoped), stuff has to change. Things get delayed. And it seemed like the movie would start after midnight. I think I took it pretty well. Considering I'm mildly obsessed with this flick...

Still, I felt it was pretty clear. 11:59 was my cut off time. If I was just showing up at work at 1 in the morning, I was cheating. I don't cheat. (Or at least, I hope I don't. Not intentionally? I don't cheat often! Okay?!?!) I got that if God wanted me to see it, God would make it work by midnight.

I walked away, disappointed, but realizing that I didn't really have a choice. I knew what the right thing to do was. I figured I would stick to that path. God Christian, bad nerd. I was okay with that.

...until my boss contacted me 2 hours ago saying they'd thought of a way to get the film started even sooner. That we could probably start before midnight.

I think God cracks a smile when testing me like this...

Toodles

-PC, likes to think he passes the test every now and then

Too batty?

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 11:34:29 GMT

Howdy,

I have this obsession. And yeah, there's really no way of sugar-coating it. I'm obsessed.

Batman Begins came out in... what, 2005? Well ever since then I've been waiting for the sequel. (Oh, sorry. WB says it isn't a "sequel". It's a "continuation". My bad.) And in about a week I'll get to see it. Then I'll get to see it everyday I'm at work, whenever I want, for the next 3 months. And I'll get paid. And I'll dress up as Batman...

Starting to get the idea, right? I took the week off from my other job so I could stockpile on sleep. I essentially plan on being at work from... well, let's just say double digit hours for a few days. People are tossing around "12 or 13 hours shifts!" and I'm mentally rolling my eyes at them. Rookies. ;)

I've spent the equivalent of a few days decorating the theater with comic book covers. I've begged and cajoled to get in to see it early. None of this is including my constantly going on about it socially. Getting customers @ SB to buy tickets to see it in IMAX. Discussing it with any friend that will be foolish enough to stop and listen. I've actually cut myself off from trailers/spoilers/and ads, because I know that if I didn't? I'd just watch them over and over and over.

Sigh. Like I said, it's a bit much. I'm more excited for this movie than I was to see my family. I've spent the last 6 months overthinking this thing. This month alone is already... well, a bit much. Taxes? Don't care. Price of gas? Whatever. My car got towed... rolled my eyes, paid a fine, moved on. Female companionship? Eh. Running? I'll get to it.

Nope, it's BatmanBatmanBatmanBatman.

Now, I have no problem letting things be low priority. I figure the less you worry about finances, the happier your life will be. Why fret over the kind of stuff that you really can't change? So I figure my thinking about other stuff is just fine. But there's such a thing as too much. I argue that I've breached that point.

The only real "problem" that comes of all this, is what does it say about my priorities? Shouldn't what you think about the most reflect what you care about the most? Let's pick... oh... I dunno.... God, for example. Now, I certainly haven't forsaken my Quakerness for Batman. Come now. I still go to church every Sunday, I read my bible weekday mornings, I have constant prayers going through my head over the course of the day. I have not regressed into some anti-religious psycho. Nope. But... well, shouldn't God be thought of much more than a movie?

I am of two minds about it. (Which is a minor pun for those of you who know about Harvey Dent.) ;) On one hand, I figure God gave me my interests and passions for a reason. I thoroughly enjoy comics. I like watching movies. I happen to work at a place where we have an IMAX theater. Ya toss all those three things into one metling pot, and yes, I'm in Nerdvana. I think that God is happiest when his people are doing what they love most.

On the other hand, there should still be time made for God.

And as I was typing up that first "hand", it hit me. Praise God for the gifts he's given me. For the blessing of being able to work around things that I love. That I can be completely passionate about what I'm doing and what's around me. Don't choose Batman over God, thank God that I have Batman. Continual thanks. And a less exciting movie will come around and God will get thanked for something else.

Praise God. Watch Batman. Have fun. Thank God.

Sounds so simple, doesn't it? Well, I never claimed to be the brightest Bat-signal in the sky. Toodles

-PC, actually had a moment of clarity that solved his own question... while it was being asked! How convenient

Old love

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 18:23:41 GMT

Howdy,

Out east for a family reunion of sorts. And I would be sitting around the big dining room table with the folks, but my siblings decided to have a conversation on potty training. Their children's poo-ing habbits. I'm single, which means I don't have to deal with any of those chats just yet, thanks. (Bleech) That, and my imagination is a little too effective in times like these...

Still, part of this whole trip was checking in with Grandma, who is more than a little checked out. She's had a stroke, she's in a nursing home, she fell out of bed and broke her hip... she isn't doing well. I went to visit her today and she didn't recognize me at all. Apparently she doesn't recognize my Mom half the time, so I can't say that I took it seriously.

Here's the thing of it; I'm not really close to my grandparents. Any of them. They don't read comic books or watch movies, and I don't know anything of planting or farming. We both believe in God and share the same family. The basics are the same, and we care about each other, but there aren't really anything in the way of deep, personal connections.

When I heard that she was on her way out, I noted it, but I still don't have any real feelings related to it. My Grandma lives across the country from me. We aren't close. People die. I feel bad for my Grandpa though. He was sitting there by her bed, came with his wheelchair into the nusring home, and poured his heart out. Told her that family was in town about 3 times. Rattled off the names of everyone staying in my parents' house with no recognition. Told her how much he missed her as her eyes were slowly closing and then jerking back open when she realzied he was still talking. Then there was a scene that was pretty much out of The Notebook. He started to say good bye, so I said, "I love you more than anyone else. Except God. And I miss you." Heartfelt. Sweet. Sincere. Grandma's response was, "I can't understand anything you're saying."

...yeah. If that doesn't get ya in the ol' ticker, then I can't really help ya. He went on to say that she understood, she just didn't know it, but I'm not quite sure how you tell someone with severe dimentia that.

I don't really relate to my relatives (ironic, I know). But I can certainly empathize with a man who loves his wife, has to travel to a nursing home just to be with her, and sees her continually slipping away; not remembering the life they had.

Not quite the happy ending I wish for anyone. Sure they had several decades together... but it ain't much of a grand finale.

Toodles

-PC, a little more somber tonight

More of the same

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 23:44:17 GMT

Howdy,

"Howdy" is actually short for "How do you do?" or "How do you fare?" So whenever someone asks you that, you have my permission to go ahead and tell them. :) What?!?! They asked! Whether or not they knew it... well, that's hardly an excuse now, is it?

Herein lies my problem. My life doesn't change much. Cat's fine, comics are plentiful, and I work more hours than you. The end. Ask me next week, I'll tell ya the same. No sign of things changing.

In theory, that's terrific for me. Superb. I like constants. Things I can rely on. My two & 1/10 jobs work for me because I know where they all fit in the schedule and when I have time to take my coworkers for coffee and when to take people for jogs and how much time I'll have to sleep in before I catch the bus which will get me to work half an hour beforehand so I can spend 30 minutes checking e-mails before the day starts.... whew. (The sentence was a run-on because that's how my life sometimes feels. Well, okay; always feels.)

Now, in theory, "Man makes plans, God laughs". So far I hear God laughing at me plenty... but not so much about my schedule. I provide plenty of other entertainment without my carefully laid out plans blowing up in my face like a microwaved pot pie still in its aluminum. (Messy, smelly, and smokey. Not recommended.)

Well, outside of having a manageable schedule, I gotta say that the "nothing's different under the sun" aspect of my life sometimes concerns me. I was messaging with a projectionist friend of mine, and he asked me the last time I had a roommate. It was about 7 years ago. And it was my brother. (He has to love me whether I'm a bad roommate or not! Ha!) He brought up the point, rightly so, that it was going to be hard to adjust for me to share a living space with a female. I don't deny he's right. There are clothes in two different rooms, boxes of comics everywhere, and I freely admit that doing dishes weekly is a rare occasion. (Typically it is tri-weekly. I have lots of bowls and spoons...) Breaking myself of 10 years of wanton bachelor living is going to take quite the effort. Happily, I don't have to worry about that today. Probably not this year... hmmm.

Then there's the God side. Well, God's in all things... there's not really a side. But pretend you know where I'm going with this! Supposedly, it is better to be too hot or too cold than luke warm with Christ. Change is encouraged. Yes you can have your bad times, but then you learn from them. Good times work too, because you're filled with praise. Status quo? Notsomuch. Trials give you a reason to pray and ask for help. Happiness and celebration give you reasons to shout and cry in jubilation. Me? I look for a comic I haven't read yet, or try to get Mylar to purr for 3 minutes longer than last time. Not a whole lot of rollercoastering up and down in my day to day.

Should I go out and get drunk, hit on prostitutes, and slide into a land of depression and debautchery so that I may find glory in redemption? ...I'm gonna go with no. Do I see anything on the horizon that's going to fill me with endless joy? Well, I'm looking forward to The Dark Knight in IMAX with more excitement than is wise... but I hardly think that's a "Godly" affair.

I gotta admit, usually I have an inkling of what to do. Not on this one. I can't really "make" good things happen. I can hope for them, which I do. I can pray for them, which I also do. But I've been rather tepid for a while now. Trying to stay awake in church (but I still argue my work week is at least partially to blame for that). I don't have any easy answer. I just go about, day by normal day, and try to sneak in prayers wherever I can think of them.

Y'know, pray that God will take care of my loved ones. The ones who actually do have up and down lives. ;)

Toodles

-PC, went to the Repetitive School of Repetition

I gotcher dang stimulus -right here-!

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 09:43:27 GMT

Howdy,

Someone decided that instead of... oh, I dunno... paying off our national debt? We should all just get more money. :| I may be asked to support my leaders and elders, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with all their decisions. (Which is probably for the best.)

In short, Saturday evening found me with a check for $600 that I don't need. I have a budget. I work 2 jobs (unless we're talking working the comic shop here and there. And I'd hardly call that "work"). I have my little life as planned out as I can get it. And if you talk to my associate, she'll suggest you think about what you do with this extra money. So I divied up my check. So I give you:

How Cosand spent his stimulus check

1. Sierra Club got $100. First off, they offered me a free backpack! How do I pass that up? Plus, y'know, I wear flannel. I go jogging. Hiking. Walking. I love my cat. I'm a nature-hugger. They buy land and keep it nature-y. Didn't find any stories about them blowing up downtown malls to plant treees. (Tree-hugging is good. Eco-terrorism is bad.) And it only took $25 to be a member. I'm one of them now...

2. HERO Initiative got $150. Here's the history. Back in the 30's-50's when people were creating comic book characters, the writers and artists were basically work for hire. So they took their page rates and that's all she wrote. Now the characters are still going, but the folks are in their elderly years and have mortgage and health problems. So HERO helps them out when they come across financial problems. Comic book readers just need to buy comics to support their favorites. Comic book fans should help out those that started these legacies.

3. Leukemia and Lymphoma Society got $200. The missus has lymphoma. And when your best friend has a life threatening illness and gets better? That's the kinda thing that makes you keep giving money to cancer research. They're always in my mind for charities. They can have as much money from me as they want. I get to keep my best friend. I call that a bargain. (And yes, God had a lot to do with it too. You don't need to tell me that.)

4. Barack Obama got $150. Why? Because I don't like war. Because I like the idea of hope and communication taking the place of instilling fear and going to war. He had my vote about 6 months ago, and now he has my money. But... where did I get that money? From his opponents! Ha! (That's what is affectionately referred to as a zinger. A burn. Gettin' p'wnd.) Ya think the people that decided to give me this money I don't need would have thought of this kinda thing, wouldn't ya. :D

In short? I got books I ain't read, DVDs sittin' on my shelf, and a car that works. The sam hill more do I need? Shoot. Do what you want with your money. This is just how I spent mine. Toodles!

-PC, gettin' dangerously close to political for a good little Quaker. ;)

My nonsensical mind

Mon, 09 Jun 2008 14:50:56 GMT

Howdy,

I'm grouchy. No justifiably grouchy, mind you. Just grouchy. It's my 10 year anniveresary of being at my job, and nobody knows. Nobody's said, "Kudos on sticking out a job for 10 years! That's amazing! Good for you, you must really love what you do!" (Which I do.) Ya know why nobody's said it? 'cause I haven;'t really told anybody, "Hey, June 9th is my 10 year anniversary!" Essentially it comes down to me being irked that people aren't aware of something I haven't told them. ...I know. Doesn't make a whole lot of sense, does it? I do the same with my birthday. For a nerd, I can be pretty darn illogical about numbers and dates.

Then there's technology and communications. Moreso the first than the second. I have my cellular phone, which accepts text messages, Yahoo Instant Messenger on the work computer, MySpace, Facebook, two Yahoo accounts, a hotmail account, and work e-mail. With all of that, I haven't had anything resembling a conversation in a bit. And again, I'm perfectly capable of starting an e-mail or dialing a number, but I expect e-mails to be waitng for me!

There are things I expect, and things I will work for. I expect my bills to all get paid, but sometimes I don't want to go sling coffee. I expect my dishes to be ready for me, but I can do weeks without washing them. And yeah, sometimes I want long, deep, good conversations with the ones I love. But I don't always communicate that.

I, in short, am a twerp. Logically I know the world doesn't immediately respond to my desires. (Which is good. I have to much stuff and clutter already. I don't need to desire much more.) I have to wait for my oil to get changed like everybody else in the Jiffy Lube lobby. I get caught in I-5 rush hour just like most folks (I even get stuck less often! Yay!)

Life doesn't respond to my telepathic demands. Which is good. Keeps me humble. Reminds me God's in charge and that waiting makes the goal that much more worthwhile.

But, being the nonsensically minded twerp that I am, I'm still in a funk.

At least I'm in a job that I've loved for 10 years. And my cat's waiting for me at home. And my car works. And I have a stack of comics waiting for me. And it's not snowing.

Toodles

-PC, hates a very select amount of things... but snow in the lowlands is probably in that group

Brain clutter

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 16:08:43 GMT

Howdy!

Yesterday started off pleasant enough. Went for a nice little jog. Went to church (wasn't really into the message, but somedays God shouts, and sometimes God just lets you be). Finished my book. Sounds like a nice day.

But there is some mentall chaff filling my brain from June 1st that just doesn't want to get out.

First off, in between my jog and church I watched The Usual Suspects. Great film. I think it was the first time I realized how funny the first half is. Of course, it's rated "R" for langauge. That f-word flies fast and furious.

Secondly, the evening was spent with coworkers at a party. As I assume is usual with most coworkers, these folks aren't head over heels in love wtih their job. And they had alcohol. So the f-words again were flying back and forth.

Now, I don't swear. At all. I used "ass" today as a way to get a reaction. That and "crap" are two words I break out maybe once a year. Words I try to stay away from. Essentially everything stronger than that, including "damn", are forbidden for me.

Which presents me with a large amount of annoyance today when that f-word is stuck in my head and won't get out. I'd like to just have it fall out and not bother around me anymore.

As I tell people who ask, you don't have the power to curse things. Throwing out these four letter words has the intent of cursing something. (And yes, changing the phrase to something fuzzy like "oh fudge" is barely any better. The intent is still there. But I guess I'll take what "little better" I can get) You don't have the power to make these things, so what makes you think you have the power to curse these things? And if you're not actually talking to God, asking for help, then what the sam hill are you doing throwing its name around? Atheist means ya don't believe in God. So why use God's name?

I'd like to go to my happy place. My Norman Rockwellian existence. Normally I can get there just fine. But it'd sure be a lot easier without these poo-covered word-detours all over the place.

-PC, supports freedom of speech... just doesn't agree with everything that's spoken

No sex. No city. Not for me.

Sat, 31 May 2008 20:57:21 GMT

Howdy,

I know. Several days late, and an easy topic to shoot at... but what's a guy to do?

As of yesterday, Sex & The City: The Movie was plaguing theaters. On the one hand, I'm thrilled. Now that the movie is finally out, I can stop seeing ads for it. (When's the last time you saw an ad for Prince Caspian? Iron Man? Exactly.) Once a flick opens, you're free! So it's out there, it'll make some bucks, but I won't see another ad for it until it hits DVD. Phew.

I tried watching a watered down version on cable on night. A lot of my female friends (mainly, every single female I work with @ SB) like the show. Probably a little too much. Anyhoo, I clicked it on to see some gal with a delivery guy, who then got mad that she would be made fun of for doing that sort of thing (while on the clock!!!!). And apparently the main character cheated on her then boyfriend to be with her on again off again boyfriend who ended up not staying with her. ...yeah. Not the kinda show I'm looking for, thanks. My Mom used to watch soaps. Not me. :)

Apparently it beat Indy on it's opening night. Sad...

Which is not to say that I'm perfect. I think it is quiet clear that I ain't. For example? LOST. Let's see here, you've got a woman who tends to bounce back and forth between two guys, a anti-hero who shoots people, kidnaps, lies, and has no qualms about a ship blowing up, killing many many people. Then there's the guy who's after him and shoots his daughter. The same guy who planted a pile of C4 on the boat to blow up all these people. There's my hero who wants everyone to lie for him. There's the guy seeking redemption who shot and killed 2 people and is trying to get redemption by possibly killing those who would kill the people that he betrayed. Guns. Explosives. Lies. Bickering. Not exactly a Prarie Home Companion installment.

We're accountable for what we watch. We know how it affects us and what's acceptable to us. We get to be responsible. And we're forced to be responsible. (And if you aren't... why not? Suck it up, accept your choices!)

But I wouldn't recommend roleplaying either of these in real life. (S&TC's wardrobe alone would bankrupt you, and you can't duplicate LOST's special effects.) :) Toodles!

-PC, likes his tv shows complex and his life problem's simple

That (non)human touch

Tue, 20 May 2008 22:20:20 GMT

I technically am supposed to be watching the movie I'm screening for the staff. But it's Pee Wee's Big Adventure. And there are a whopping 4 staff people (& 3 guests). And this movie just isn't funny.... oy.

I have to admit that I've been spendng an awful lot of time with a female acquaintance of mine. Basically a few hours every afternoon. We've had quite a few chats, and there has been many naps on the couch together. She's a big fan of sitting on my lap. Of course, whenever I actually get off the couch and go to bed, she does her own tihng. Like lick her paws or meow for more food.

I don't know what it is, but it's just been a cat-centric past few weeks. Come home, plop on the couch, and grab the cat. Sneak in a few minutes of belly scratching before I head out the door to work. Life just makes more sense when all I have to worry about are hairballs and cat litter.

Then there's the book I ripped through over the weekend. SB has decided they should be in the book business (because coffee, CDs, gift cards, and pastries just aren't enough of a market to corner), which involves them trying to get future bestsellers into their store. They also want their employees to be able to talk about these books, so they always send along a store copy. So on Friday morning I picked up our copy of The art of racing in the rain.

Had it finished by Sunday afternoon. Great book. 4 out of 5. Now, it's a book about life and philosophy told from a dog's point of view. I don't like dogs. They slobber, they try to knock you over, and they aren't smart enough to pee in a small box. I have problems with that. Cats are by far a superior animal. In spite of all this, I still identified with the character halfway through chapter 1. It had a very Mitch Albom tone to it. Sure there were some parts that were forced, but overall? A good reminder to us pet owners why we love our critters, and a bittersweet read for anyone who's just lost their pet.

According to an article I read today in the Walla Walla Union Bulletin, 63% of all Americans have a pet. That there are 245 million pets to 300 millioni U.S. citizens. I believe it.

I get along wtih my cat, Mylar, better than my family. I call my family a couple of months or so, visit my brother once in a blue moon, but Mylar gets my time as often as possible. Maybe because I picked her? Because I've made the choice to make her part of my life and accept the responsibilites (food, vet trips, carpet bills) that come with it?

For me, I would guess it's because she is there and doesn't talk much. I'm trying to talk less and less, so I appreciate silence more and more. Well, okay, purring isn't silence. But it feels pretty darn golden as well. (And yes, meowing for food is far from ideal. But nobody's perfect.)

What can I say, sometimes the greatest gift God can give comes with sharp claws and fleas. I don't question it, I just pet and feed it. ;) Toodles