The FORTRESS of SOLITUDE

*cough*

...yes.

The boyfriend came down on Sunday and stayed until Monday evening. Was a joy, as usual. We frolicked with Orko (who is doing very well), and watched loads and loads of episodes of Futurama (see: the superior, although often mistaken for inferior, sister to The Simpsons). Far more cerebral and edgy than the Simpsons, which frankly...sucks balls nowadays. Futurama, although cancelled prematurely, at least has a time capsule of genius feel to it - unlike the Simpsons which leaves a bitter, Fox's-Flagship-is-sinking, crappo kind of feel nowadays. I don't even bother watching anymore.
Anyhow - Orko has had a cold since he came from the THS. He had it before - the vet told me about it at length, stating that it was normal and it would run its course but that they would send him home with medication. When I picked him up, however, I was given no medication and I never spoke to the vet - the receptionist just handed me Orko and sent me on my way (less one very trendy mouse toy from IKEA, I might add).
He's not appearing to be in pain, but he does appear to have cold like symptoms - his nose runs (although that is improving) and he sneezes a bit. Two nights ago it woke me up because it was so loud. He's energetic, but in spurts...he seems to run around for 20 minutes and then sleep on my lap for an hour or two. I guess this is fairly normal behaviour because when he IS active, his behaviour is not unlike that of a crack addict, looking for their next fix and wigging out at every opportunity.
If he's still sneezing next week, I'm going to call the THS again...but I'm annoyed since he shouldn't have been sent home if he was still ill. IDIOTS!
On a lighter note - my stocks are plummeting, although a little everyday so as to not become too obvious to a moron like me. :)


I think it's all the stocks my friend John told me to buy. Bastard.
So the Amazing Race 8 (Families) began last night. I really have to say that it was totally kick ASS. Too many funny moments to recount, but the NY mother screaming at her idiotic children while wearing a neck kerchief and the "Black" family made my friend Glen and I laugh our asses off.

The best lines of the night (SPOILER):

"The Black Family is right behind us!"

"Black Family...you are the last to arrive."

Read a very detailed and amusing recap here: TVGasm

Blogging has been slow of late because I have my KITTY HOME, YOU ASSHOLES! Read my friggin' blog!!

Ah, just kidding.

Yes, I do indeed have Orko back where he belongs and the little guy is a complete and utter hand-full. Love him though and he's very well behaved. He's easily trained (I got him to use his sisal rope scratching post in about 24 hours), eats well, shits well, runs around like a little hummingbird, loves nibbling on my fingers (and is surprisingly adept at not hurting me unless I deserve it) and plays for hours on his own, only to finish and saunter over to try and squeeze in between my arms and my chest when I'm lying down on the couch. He's adorable.

When I get my FARKING camera back from you-know-who-you-are, I'll upload some pics. It's rather difficult to take them with my webcam as he doesn't really sit still like he used to. Having said that, he's fascinated by my computer screen, especially if I'm typing or using the mouse erratically. He'll just sit in front of the monitor and stare and paw. Awwwww...

Onto more annoying matters...RANT ON.

Everyone is aware of my dislike of deepak chOPRAH, but it hit an ALL TIME low yesterday as I watched - get this - the FIRST season premiere episode in her season premiere WEEK. Fuck off, first of all.

I hate this woman and her smug, name-dropping, taking-credit-for-other-people's-generosity ASS. I realize this and I accept it. I do, however, like complaining - so I watch her show religiously. Well, not religiously - her mutual ass-kissing society episodes (celebrity interviews, celebrity cum make-over artist, celebrity 'wildest-dreams' 'make-a-wish' or any other such self serving bullshit she likes to populate her season with) make me so sick to my stomach, I generally turn over to ANYTHING else on the tube.

Back to my point - last night was her Season Premiere (screw Season Premiere week, you bitch) and she showed off her 'new set' - it's basically the old set with a new background and light up floor that "changes colour, people..." Fuck off.

Now - a week and a half ago, Oprah was being lauded, left, right and center for her wonderful, caring, compassionate and timely coverage of the hurricane Katrina disaster. Fine.

One week later and OOPS! Katrina didn't happen...or at least it seemed, as Oprah interviewed - get this - Jennifer FUCKING Aniston for a half hour. A HALF A FUCKING HOUR TO THIS PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT ACTRESS WHO'S NOT EVEN THAT FUCKING GOOD BUT WHO WENT OUT WITH A GOOD LOOKING GUY WHO THEN DUMPED HER ASS FOR SOMEONE HOTTER BECAUSE WE'RE ALL SO FUCKING CONCERED ABOUT THIS BITCH'S WELL BEING.

I, for the record, am not concered about Jennifer Aniston's well being. If Jennifer Aniston was...say, in a car accident that ripped her face off, I'd be concerned that the poor girl would likely become homeless as her career is entirely based on how she looks. She's a horrid actress, so let's face it - it ain't based on that.

I am even LESS concerned about whether or not Jennifer Aniston is 'okay' or 'doing well' or 'coping appropriately' with a divorce. This shouldn't concern ANYONE. If it does, you need to be shot and take a look around you and realize what is important in life - not just yours, but anyone's.

As Jennifer Aniston and Oprah performed some of the most complicated, World Twister Champ worthy, Escher-esque, tandem and mutual ass-kissing, I sat there wondering - how much concern has Jennifer Aniston shown towards Katrina victims? A magnolia at an Awards show? A photo-op as she hugs a black child...?

Nope. I'll give Jennifer Aniston this - she didn't jump on the Katrina Positive Publicity campaign that many other celebrities did. She did, however, spit in the face of all those people by actually appearing on television to talk about her personal problems, clearly unaware that divorces happen everyday. Disgusting.

Oprah is even more disgusting because she willingly aired the drivel on national television. She actually likes to a) pretend she never did trash talk television and b) that she's above it now. Seeing Jennifer Aniston talk about how much she cried when she and Brad Pitt broke up while there are bloated corpses floating through New Orleans is the trashiest thing I've seen in a while. Oh, and Oprah shoe-horning in a comment or two about how much her new snazzy studio ran her was the icing on this particular shit-cake.

Oprah, however, is all about setting new all time lows and the episode, you may note, was only half over.

If you tune to almost any local US channel, you'll see campaigns from the Humane Society, the North Shore Animal League (in New York), etc about the influx of homeless animals they have received because of deaths and displacement in the aftermath of Katrina. They are BEGGING (not urging) people to adopt these perfectly acceptable and healthy animals (for the most part). They need good homes.

But wait...Oprah is back from commercial. She takes center stage on her Saturday Night Fever rip-off new discotheque floor. She smirks at the camera and begins barfing up more useless, uninteresting and unimporant information onto America...

"..you know, while on hiatus, Stedman and I had a serious talk. We talked things over. And we came to a really important decision..."

...of course, BLOAT-Oprah is referencing her oft publicized relationship with Steadman as America sits waiting - wondering, will they get married or won't they. Frankly, the only thing I'm wondering is when Steadman is gonna get around to pulling a fucking OJ on his back-talking woman. Holy shit she needs a slap...but I digress.

Then she smiles, knowingly, at an audience of upper-middle class women in her studio that titter and applaud when the woman burps. A little laughter can be heard as we fade to her next segment about...

...Oprah getting a DOG! Yippeee!! She continually uses the term "addition to our family" so she's relatable by pregnant women and mothers everywhere. The audience "Awwww's" can be heard over the audio of the segment to the point that it drowns out the copy. The long and short of it is - Oprah, with more money than god, has decided to purchase two new puppies from a breeder in Southern California. The segment, running about 5 minutes, follows her and a more whipped than ever looking Steadman going to a breeder and buying these puppies. Oprah squeals with delight as she grabs one and kisses it. Turns out they take THREE, not two, dogs home with them. How lovely for this breeder that her business is booming and Oprah gives her a free ad.

Then we come back to the studio and, lo and behold, to get more audience approval for her empty life, she brings the puppies out with their 'trainer' (see, real caretaker). Oprah fawns over them and explains how she did an amazing thing by taking the third because it had an underbite. Wow, Oprah...I wish I could be as oblivious as you when I grow up. She took a dog with an underbite - what a hero.

Perhaps she could take this other dog - for FREE - that nearly choked on his master's wedding ring when it had to eat his hand to FUCKING SURVIVE, you STUPID FUCKING BITCH.

I don't want THAT dog, it looks like it floated in decay and feces for a week. D'oh! It did!

Then Oprah talks about how much she takes care of these dogs and gets up with them in the night - and then we get a video segment of this. We are actually expected to believe that Oprah got up in the night and a camera man sat outside, just waiting to get shots of her picking up her dog's shit. Gimme a break.

It's about as real as the night-vision shots on Survivor...

So this 'dog segment' runs a whopping 10 minutes and they go to a commercial.

When they return Oprah begins talking about her 'Hermes' incident. Her spin was interesting, if rehearsed and the magical appearance of the US manager (not the French one, mind you) in the middle of her yarn spinning was rather annoying. Oprah IMPLORED the audience to believe that the problem was this ONE woman. The manager claimed the woman didn't know her. Oprah smiled slightly and looking at the audience. The two exchanged a mutual "Right on, girl..." and then she turned back, claiming that wasn't the point...sure, Oprah.

Anyway, the bit of the segment that was missing was the part about how Oprah destroyed this woman's livelihood by getting her fired. This won't be reported anywhere, because I'm sure Hermes made the poor woman sign a release and confidentiality agreement and have her beholden to their legal department for life so as to not upset the mammoth wad of ASS that is Oprah. This segment lasts about five minutes and they go to commercial.

Oprah comes back on and talks (FINALLY) about Katrina - only the biggest news story in the US at the moment. In a nutshell (and lets be quick, coz this segment lasted about 3 minutes), Oprah is "personally pledging" 10 million dollars. Kudos to Oprah...and the audience agrees. They give her a standing ovation. She says again "personally pledging" - they clap louder. Again, she repeats "10 million dollars of MY money" and the audience is on the verge of tears. Good for you, Oprah. Good for you.

Then she turns and says, "Now...here's what you can do, coz I know you don't have 10 million dollars." [Laugh]

Sorry, say again?

Her complete boobery and ass-munching obliviousness to tact rears it's bloated face, once again.

In short, Oprah has created a KATRINA REGISTRY (it's like a wedding, girls!) where you can buy a toaster...or a house and everything in between for Katrina victims.

Oprah's Katrina Angel Network...what a saint she is.

Then we go to a commercial and get to see a preview of her next episode where she travels to, you guessed it, South Africa and gives some under privledged children the things they need...

...bitch ain't set foot in New Orleans.

I applaud the registry myself, but if I can only afford to send a toaster - would I have a computer with internet access in my home? And couldn't we have had more of this instead of 1/2 your show being devoted Jennifer Aniston's insignificant and miniscule, self-imposed problems?

Again - a stellar, self-important and self-congratulatory episode of Oprah.

On a less important note - my roommate again has displayed his idiocy. A short one this time. I clean the kitchen. If I didn't clean the kitchen, the only thing that would be washed would be his coffee mug. Also, the counter and kitchen floor would never be cleaned. A few months ago, my roommate got an espresso machine from an ex-boyfriend (who was clearly trying to get rid of it on the first cholo that came along). It now resides on our countertop.
One day, while cleaning the kitchen, I decided to put it away since it hadn't been used since he got it. The next day, my roommate came out of his room at one point and goes, "Guy...my espresso machine?"
And I'm all, "Oh...I put it away because it wasn't being used."
"I DO use it."
"Oh. Sorry, I'll put it back."
"Cool - I thought you sold it or something."

First of all - sold it? Yeah, I'd sell your possessions. WTF?! Secondly, when I pulled it out from the cupboard, I noticed it had about an inch of dust on it. This proves TWO things...

1) He never uses it and
2) He never cleans it.

So why do we need it on the counter? To show that he has some sort of 'stake' in the kitchen, because like 99% of the rooms in my apartment, it's populated exclusively by my possessions. Not, as he likes to pretend, because I DOMINATE the apartment, but simply because a) he has no stuff and b) what he DOES is GARBAGE. Like his WW Barbie doll in the living room...or his plants he doesn't water (but I do)...

...ugh.

I put the espresso machine back on the counter, making sure to run a finger across the top, revealing the black as the friggin' night colouring against the grey, dust layer. Wonder if he'll a) use it, or b) clean it. Neither will happen and a month from now I shall return it to its home under the counter. When he brings it up, I will point out that the dust layer reveals how much he uses it.

He has no concept of putting things back, or respecting the space, or respecting ANYTHING outside of his room. He chronically leaves lights on - the kitchen and living room light are usually left on when he goes to bed. The bathroom light is always left on when he uses the bathroom in the middle of the night if I'm watching TV, making me get up to turn it off. His idea of cleaning the living room is wiping the coffee table and cleaning the kitchen is washing his mug and spoon.

Anyway, I'm done talking about him. He's a douchebag. Not much I can do about it.

.

Gaystrogen powers...ACTIVATE!!!
Been watching episodes of the Muppet show back to back this weekend. "Moi?"
The only surviving terrorist from the Olympic massacre is pissed because Steven Speilberg, who is directing a movie based on the events, has not consulted him. Read the story here. I also hear Hitler is alive and well and a little miffed over the portrayal of Nazis in Schindler's List.
To tie-up a lose end left by my last roommate post, here's the 'resolution' - if you can call it that. I sent that email to my roommate the morning of the incident with the propped open door. I then left work early to get a self-locking deadbolt to end the insanity once and for all. I got home and my roommate had written me back. Although I won't post it here because I respect his privacy - well, not really, but whatever...
...here's the gist of his email: Everything is my fault, but he's very sorry. In short, he saddled his drinking problems on me, claiming I "dominate the [apartment]." Also, he can never watch TV because I always come out and clean the kitchen. The fact that he only cleans his dishes and then scuttles back to his room, never actually cleaning the shared kitchen was conveniently ommitted. Just like the fact that I clean the apartment - an ACTUAL cleaning, vaccuming, dusting, tidying, etc., and he does NONE of that was also conveniently left out. As well, the fact that he never cleans the bathroom, let alone gets on his hands and knees to scrub the floor and the bathtub, nor does he ever change the toilet paper was also overlooked. But, he's right - I dominate the apartment. In his email he used the word "out" to substitute for "drinking" and I think he used "dominate" to substitute for "takes responsibility for" - that's the only thing that makes sense, really.
Also, he claimed I never got back to him regarding our internet service booklet months previously. The truth is, I did get back to him, about a millisecond after he asked when I said, "I can't find the booklet, but it won't give you info on that anyway. The information is all online on the company's website." Apparently, he didn't hear me - I mean, being in the same 4 foot radius and all, it's understandable.
He also claimed that I myself had left the door open before. I doubt I've done it but the bottom line is - when you're the last person to enter the apartment, it's YOUR responsibility, NOT mine. And I seriously doubt his druken boyfriend and himself are coherent enough to tell if the door's been left open or not. Certainly a drunken person can see the door propped open - or perhaps not.
It was basically an itemized list of things that I do wrong that make him behave the way he does, followed by a "I'm very sorry about all of this" at the end.
He has a serious drinking problem - more serious than I thought, he doesn't even realize when he's drunk anymore. :( Very sad.
I ingored all the deflection and just wrote him back about the internet service. He's been apologetically nice since then - odd behaviour for someone who blames me for their alcoholism. Dunno about anyone else, but if I lived with someone who cleaned the kitchen every single time I watched TV (an amazing feat on his days off when I'm at work), who dominated the apartment we lived in, who caused me to become an alcoholic - I'd move. Call me crazy.
In any event, I went to Canadian Tire and got a new lock, after hearing the disappointing news that a self-locking deadbolt is only available from a locksmith, so I just got a new lock that looked the same as my old one (I had broken my key in it while trying to measure the old one). I got home and opened it and realized that it WAS a self-locking deadbolt. So much for the expertise of Crappy Tire's staff.
I changed the lock, it now clicks and we're secure. I'll continue to make sure I live in a clean apartment and that it's not a pigsty, so if that's 'dominating' he can bite my ass.
End of story.
Now on to better news - Orko is still at the THS but I spent Friday night with him for about an hour and a half after work. His energy was up, he was mewing incessantly, and he was jumping on my shoulders as I leaned down. He also ATE some food. Holy CRAP!
The vet told me that he could come home when he'd put on some weight, he seems to have plateaued, apparently.
His little nose was also running and he sneezed a few times.

:)

S.


.

Remember this awful dream I had recently? I had a similar, equally as intense one last night about a black widow spider in my bed that was carrying around a sac of eggs. Contrary to all known zoology, this spider could leap nearly five feet.

The thing landed on various parts of my body about 10-12 times and never bit me. You'd think I would have stopped freaking out.

I've realized this dream is a manifestation of the fear that I have about having a living creature, other than my roommate, and non-human, living in my apartment. I hope I don't stomp on Orko in some dream/wake night terror. :s

Off to Waterloo for today and tomorrow. Back tomorrow eve.

S.

Well, I phoned the THS this morning since I hadn't been able to get through last night. There was no one to answer my call (another problem with being understaffed) but I left a message. This vet called me back (a different one to the lady I was dealing with) and told me that there was no change. He also added that Orko was sneezing once in a while. Perhaps it's a cold that he has? Who knows. :(

Basically he told me they would continue their treatment and see where it went.

I'm getting more and more depressed about this - there's absolutely no light at the end of this tunnel thus far other than the white haze that Orko will mostly likely survive. They can't give me a day or even an estimate as to when he MIGHT be released.

I know I'm being pointlessly pessimistic, but I want Orko at home. I've basically adopted a cat that's going to be in veterinary care indefinitely. It bums me out.

S.

So, I'm walking to work this morning and I see a squirrel run out from the "Make Your Own Wine" shop down the street from me. The thing was running like the wind but I guess it had just been digging in some sawdust or some such because he didn't look unlike this poor sod who was arrested in mid spray paint sniff. It's odd to imagine a small rodent, hiding in corners, plastic bag in hand and mini-spray paint can - shaking away...that clickity-clack of the stirring ball inside, and then pressing down and huffing away.