Xx Myeeh...

Yes, I know I haven't posted in a while, and I'm sorry. I get distracted like that. But now that I'm starting school again (-moan-) it looks like I'll have to. I'll get to that here soon.

So yeah, here's a rundown of my schedule:

1st period: Japanese I
2nd period: US History AP
3rd period: Biology II AP
4th period: English 11 AP

So, I've got three AP classes this semester. -fallsover- I'll have four next semester. 2nd half of Bio, 2nd half of US History, PreCal, and Chemistry. Xx Whoo, being a junior is fuuun.

Hmm, yes, and there's that thing about carrying a couple full-sized textbooks around with me all day since I don't have a locker yet. That will be a problem. Then again, I can just make the school system pay for the chiropractor bill. That'd work.

So yeah, about the revival of my Blogger-ness: Part of BioII is that we need to post comments on the teacher's blog entries every now and then, so I figured I'd reanimate my accounts.

Well, that's purdy much it for now. -salutes- Peace owt f'now.

O.O

I realized something a while ago, and it's puzzled me ever since. Here's my realization:


Water is made of two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom.
Hydrogen is incredibly flammable.
Fire needs oxygen in order to burn.

So why in the world do these atoms, when combined correctly, make a substance that is more or less impervious to flame?! Water isn't flammable, yet it's made of a combination of atoms that logically would form an insanely flammable substance.

That confuses me. O.O

-shrug-

The following text will be a little example of how much free time I have. Constantly testing my eloquence, I guess. Oh well. I leave it to you, my readers, to judge it. Kate especially. -pokepoke-

"And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,
and I don't want to go home right now." Her slim, petite frame swayed to the beat of the music thrumming in her ears, the earphone plugs in her ears attached to a small mp3 player in the deep pocket of her baggy, "gothic" style pants. Their black fabric was set off by blood red stitching, and by the dull grey metal chain attached to her pants by hooks under the two front belt loops. "And all I can taste is this moment, and all I can breathe is your life. 'Cause sooner or later it's over, I just don't want to miss you tonight." The heavy black combat boots that shod her feet were nearly invisible, hidden by the cuffs of her pants. They clumped loudly on the hard concrete as the female sauntered by, her rich cobalt-blue eyes half-closed against the beams of red-orange sunlight shining into them. "And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." Her shirt brushed against the top of her pants, the torso section conforming to her slim midriff. The sleeves flared out around her arm, falling to just past her wrists. On her wrists were glove-like cuffs with holes cut for the thumb, completely open once it reached knuckle-level. "And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming, or the moment of truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you're alive!" These cuffs were black, the one on her right hand bearing a face with white x-shapes for eyes and a frowning mouth, the left turned inside out so it was impossible to tell what design it bore. On each thumb were several rings of various shades of silver, which clicked against each other with each swing of her arms. "And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." Her delicately-featured face was framed with hair dyed bone white, the shaggy locks hanging unevenly about her head. Her left eye was completely covered by an especially long hank. In her left ear were two silver rings, on the right a single gold one. All in all this female seems to be a stereotypical goth. Well, mostly. "And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." She'd be a stereotypical goth but for the fact that her head was canine; more accurately lupine, in nature. The same went for a shaggy tail trailing behind her. Her entire body was covered in thick, soft fur; the throat, chest, belly, and underside of the tail were all a creamy grey. The rest was silver in hue, striped with black. "I just want you to know who I am. I just want you to know who I am. I just want you to know who I am. I just want you to know who I am..."

Eye of the Tiger

Rising up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive

So many times it happens too fast
You change your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all in the eye of the tiger

Face to face, out in the heat
Hanging tough, staying hungry
They stack the odds 'til we take to the street
For we kill with the skill to survive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all in the eye of the tiger

Rising up, straight to the top
Have the guts, got the glory
Went the distance now I'm not gonna stop
Just a man and his will to survive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all in the eye of the tiger

The eye of the tiger...

Gawsh, I love that song. Dunno exactly why. -shrug-

Mkay, a few things to ramble about.

Art. Geh. It's interesting for a person like me who has a flare for doodling, but it's also infuriating. We've done so far projects to demonstrate balance,
we've enlarged masterworks, we've enlarged and distorted our own sketches, we've enlarged poster pieces, and we're now working on perspective. A short list of complaints:
Balance: The teacher was really picky
Masterworks: Geh, I can't draw people at all!
Distortions: It's nigh on impossible to do curvy distortions right
Posters: Getting hair to look right is really hard.
Perspective: Actually not much to complain about, except that sometimes lining something up with the vanishing point(s) makes it look weird.

If we could get the scanner to work I'd scan in some examples of the really annoying ones.

It seems that despite my insistance that my work isn't that great, I continue to get A grades on the required work and extra points for the extra stuff I did because I work faster than everyone else. So I probably have over a 100 for art, the interim said 104 last I remember.

Biology, my established favorite class, is a 96. Splee. And Spanish, my least favorite, is a 93. It's mainly the homework I hate about Spanish. The class itself isn't bad since I have a good enough grasp of the language to put together Senora's Spanish into English and translate onto paper without making Senora (lacking a ~ over those n's, sorry. This keyboard doesn't like me using the alt key) make countless corrections to it. Speaking, well, gonna hafta work on that.

Did I say how much I love Biology? I think I did. Science has always been an interesting subject for me, and Mrs. Blevins being an awesome teacher is icing on the cake. Gawsh, I love that class. -pokes two of the last 3 tests (I think) that I got 100's or something close on-

I think Lukie's new name will be Taz. He's a little demon when he's hyper, and when he gets going and growls he sounds like a Tasmanian Devil. Seriously, it's so funny to hear him growl. he does get overexcited and hurt. His jaws and incredibly strong, and it hurts like the dickens when he chomps down hard.

-hack-

Urgh. My throat feels like it's coated with sandpaper, and I have a headache developing. I dunno what, but something's been going around Huss this week, and I've gotten it. -hack- Hard candy works the same as lozenges, so says my Spanish teacher. Guess what? She was right. So I had a baggy of peppermints that I'd eat through the day to soothe my scratchy throat.

Speaking of school, I had a spazzy special moment today in 3rd period. (3rd is band) Well, today was the day for All-County, hosted this year by none other than Hunter Huss High. So those of us not is All-County were stuck in the big gym. >_<
The bell for 3rd lunch was due to ring, so everyone gravitated toward the door nearest the path to the cafeteria. I was running that way because I was hyper, and for some unknown reason I overbalanced and fell forward. Don't ask me why; I have no earthly or otherwise clue. But yeah, I fell forward binder, book, and pencil pouch in hand. When I hi the ground I was more or less parallel to it, so I ended up sliding a good foot or two before coming to a stop. By then most of the stuff in my hands was scattered around; luckily my Biology binder was (gasp) relatively organized. Of course because I'm special I had to start cracking up. Everyone else who had been facing in my general direction burst into laughter as well. I managed to get up and keep walking, though my left hip, knee, and shoulder were sore for a while. Pardon the funky verb tenses, if I misuse some of them.

So anyhow, that reminded me of another time I made ungraceful contact with the ground beneath me. It was during marching season, after a practice. I was in the front of the semi-mad dash for the band room, and I tripped over a rouge tail in my very ripped jeans and went tumbling to the ground. Here's the funny part: I hit the ground, roll over, get my knees under me, get up, and keep running without missing a stride. I was about to pee in my pants I was laughing so hard. It was one of my very ultra-special moments that make my life so much more interesting. So yeah, when in band I am special. Don't let me run in band. I will fall over and make myself look like an idiot. Not that I don't most other times. Oh well. I like my specialness. Ph34r m3h. =K

Kate made me delete the Green Golfball Joke from the blog because apparently it's a sin to write it, and it should be told orally. So, I deleted it. It wasn't very good anyway, so no love was lost.

Peace owt ch'all.

He is not a shitter.

Lukie is not a shitter, the way Kate says it. He isn't annoying. He's a rat terrier mix, probably with scottie because of his wiry fur. Terriers, in my opinion, are not shitters.

Anyhow, poor Loogie hasn't been feeling well. We'll get to the nickname later. Around Thursday of last week, he got a bad cough, like there was drainage in his throat. By Friday, he had a nasty flu-like head cold. It included bouts of a bad fever, where his head would heat up and he'd start shivering. All I could think to do was to wrap him up in my jacket and snuggle until he warmed up and stopped shivering. Poor guy. Normally he's a normal, energetic terrier, really attention hungry since his previous owner barely gave him any. But after Friday he was so sick, Dad says he didn't even react when he put the leash on. At the vet's, they said he had pneumonia, so he stayed overnight. He also has this icky intestinal parasite, which I blame for his lack of appetite. He was kept 'til about five-thirty today, then we took him home. He seemed a lot better; he had a lot of his energy back.

Yeah, about his name. The original name was Koolie, but that was a dorky name so we changed it to Lukie. When Dad told me the name I made a comment that it sounded like 'loogie', and unfortunately it stuck with him. Poor pup.


But I swear, that dog has the most unique head I've ever seen. He has those white mutton-chop cheeks and that one floppy ear, and even though you can't see it in the photos Kate posted on her blog, he had a nose-hawk. It's like a ridge of upright hair along the center of his muzzle, like a mohawk for his nose. XP It's so funny. 'Scuse me if I misspelled mohawk. I really don't care.

I can die happy now.

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, if anyone actually reads this blog. The main reason is because there's really nothing to post. Now; however, I have something to post.

I just got back from a Billy Joel concert. -blink- We left about three pm, and got back around twelve fifty am. Almost ten hours. The concert was in Greenville, which is like two hours away. It's a lot like Charlotte, but everything is surprisingly convenient. I was impressed. The Bi-Lo Center, where the concert was held, was right there! Wow! We parked, walked a few blocks, ate supper at a sushi place (of course!), walked back, and got situated. Oh, we each (Mom and I) got a long-sleeved shirt, for the helluv it. They were ninety dollars apiece. When I saw the recipt I nearly hyperventilated. But, wow.

Our seats were on the floor, which meant we were reeeely close. Imagine the stage, then two blocks of seats in front of it. We were in one of those, like halfway in it. It was an awesome view. -collapses-

At times the noise was just too many decibels for my poor ears to handle, so I had to plug them with my fingers so I wouldn't go deaf. Oh well. It was Billy Joel. I'm still trying to work it out in my mind. It was that profound.

I had a blast, though I nearly went deaf at least three times. I forgive the crowd -- that was expected. I wish those ijjits hadn't stood up the whole damn time, though. I had to either sit on the back of my chair or stand up in it so I could see. >_<'

I have to say, the lights made the show that much cooler. XP They strobed me out during the song ' Pressure.' There were w pair of guys who played the hell out of those saxes and trumpet, I tell ya. I know that it's hard to get a brass up to a high register without it sounding like nails on a chalkboard, but this dude rocked that trumpet all the way to Virginia. Woodwinds have it a bit better, though even flutes have to work to keep those high notes from hurting. Those saxes still wrawked my boxors, if I actually wore boxors. XP

Yeah, I'm gonna shut up now since it's almost one-thirty am. Peace owt ch'all.

Mer Cirshmss

Haven't posted in a while, eh?

Probably the biggest this I got this year was...


A COMPUTER!!!

Ohemgee DAD GOT ME A NEW COMPY.


Ohemgee ohemgee elohelzorz!

We got it up and running today, I'm using it right now.

Well isn't that special?

XD

Some more cwool crap was...

A two-volume The Best of Billy Joel CD... Whooteh!

And a two-CD-one-DVD set of Dane Cook!
-drools-

I'm in heaven.

O_o -pantpant-

Note to self: Do not try to walk Hooch and Iris at the same time alone.

It is nigh on impossible, and will end up sending one face-first into the pavement.

It almost did me.

I'm surprised my ankles stayed un-twisted, since I had on these huge honkin' clogs.

Yeah. We putted around Sherwood's (local elementary school) track for a bit and came back home. I wasn't interested in staying too long.

Meh, not muct to report, other than that I am about to spaz right out of my skin every time I check a calender.

IT'S THE FRIGGIN' FIFTEENTH!!!

H-O-L-Y H-E-L-L . . . !!

Okay, I'm done.

FIFTEENTH!!

-Maniacal grin-

Okay, it's time for a story. I can never get tired of telling this.

It was getting on in the competition season for marching band, so Ms. Davis, our -coff- beloved -coff- band director sceduled an extra-long practice.

(Nah, Ms. Davis is cool. I was just being silly)

It began at 9 am, I dun remember when it was supposed to end since we got out early, between 1 pm and 2 pm. Yeah, waay early.

So it was our lunch break, right? Several of us had scarfed down our lunches within 10 to 20 minutes, so we had the rest of an hour to kill. Oh boy, high school students with free time in the school grounds with no supervision, this is a recipe for disaster.

We were sitting in the back of the auditorium, since the bulk of us eat lunch in the lobby of the auditorium or sitting on the stage. So, there were about six or seven of us, and someone said "I wonder what it'd be like to sled down that hill?" He was referring to the incline between the back and front row of seats. This was the point where I got involved. Yes, I had a part in it. Aren't you impressed?

I went into the lobby, looked around, and spotted one of those big trashcans sitting on a rolling platform. Oho yes, this is where it gets interesting. I drag it back to the auditoruim and let the others go to town, since beyond providing the instrument I wasn't inclined to particpate. Smart of me.

First they take the can off the platform, and a few people take turns rolling down the slope sitting and/or lying on it. Oh, it gets worse. Obviously most everyone ends up falling off, or getting dislodged in some way, shape, or form, which is to be expected.

Then someone got the bright idea to... oh, this is the fun part. They take the bag out of the trashcan and put the now empty can back into its platform. You know what comes next, somebody gets in. He's given a hearty shove and sent rolling down the slope, grinning like an idiot. About halfway down something snags a chair leg, and the whole shabang tips over. Everyone had been tittering since he got into the can, but now it became full-blown laughter, and I mean it. Everyone was cracking up, laughing fit to burst.

Okay, here's where we need to pause so I can describe the layout of the auditorium.

After the front row of seats there is an empty walking space, then there's a low-set platform up against the stage. At this point a desk and some boxes and textbooks were on the platform, probably from drama club.

So, now our resident maniacal senior, Preston, steps up to the plate. Oh, this is the best part.

He gets into the can, he's so lanky his legs tucked against his chest are deforming the sides of the plastic trashcan. Then someone grabs the rim of the can, and runs with it. He lets go about halfway down, and stands there grinning. Preston in his trashcan carreens down the rest of the aisle, rotating so that by the time he gets to the platform he's facing the far wall. Then the can smashes into the platform, overbalances, and sends the can with Preston inside crashing into the desk. The laughter has picked back up by now.

I was giggling myself, but a thought in the back of my mind said, Holy shit if Preston is hurt we're all in so much shit!! Holy shit!!

But soon enough Preston climbs out of the overturned can, stands up, throws his arms over his head and whoops. Phew!

Someone fishes under the platfrom and retrieves the rolling thing for the can and lugs it back up. Oh, the desk, it had been parallel to the edge of the platform, but now it's at a 45 degree angle. Poor desk, Preston's head must've hit it hard...

The story doesn't end here!!

Preston, believe it or now, did it again.

The blockhead.

The second time was much like the first, but half the band had been corralled to come watch this time.

When he hit the platform the second time he stayed down for longer, someone jogged down to make sure he was all right. It turns out he was just dazed from the impact and was fine.

He's agreed to do it yet a third time if we can get a camera and film it to send to America's Funniest Home Videos.

XD

I recently finished reading the bonus story in a side-plot of the FMA (Fullmetal Alchemist) manga I'm addicted to. It's a prose story, actually pretty cool.
Anyhow, the side story was titled "The Phantom of Warehouse 13" and it's absolutely hilarious.
Even if you don't know much, or anything, about the Fulletal Alchemist series "The Phantom of Warehouse 13" is still funny.

It has to do with a group of officers serving in Eastern HQ where Ed and Al (the main characters in the manga) are based, Col. Roy Mustang, 2nd Lieutenants Heymans Breda and Jean Havoc, Warrant Officer Falman, and Master Sergeant Kane Fuery. 1st Lieutenant Hawkeye, Captain in the story, even makes an appearance, as does her dog, Hayate I think she named the pup.

I won't say any more in case Kate wants to read it. Trust me, it's a hoot.

And now for something completely different...!

Has anyone heard the song Pianoman played by Billy Joel and not gotten caught in a wave of nostalgia? I have, and I can't understand how someone couldn't. I'm not completely sure what does it, but it gives me that almost-but-not-quite-unpleasant feeling.

I just had to say that, it's one of those things that'll bug you until you write it down or say it.

Bah!

It seems that now is the calm before the storm.

It was surprisingly not busy today at Carolina Place when Mom and I went to get some Christmas stuff done, it was relatively painless considering the season.

Bwaah, I got the coolest pair of pants at Hot Topic! -glee-

I also got a few new DRoP (Dragonriders of Pern) books. -squeeeee-

And more manga to read now! -grin-

Wow, today was very productive and not quite as irksome as predicted! This is a miracle.

^_^;;

¬_¬

Oy.

Do you know how old my school is?

Pretty damn old.

Old enough to have asbestos sealed into the ceiling and walls.

As if that wasn't enough...

Today during second period there was a gas leak on lower B Hall in the main building.

My group was supposed to film our skit for Spanish, I even agreed to bring my wooden sword...

But we didn't get a chance to.

Am I using too many breaks? Oh well. I don't care.

At least I could carry the sword around and prod people with it. -grin-
(Only during lunch and before class started, you understand.)

Hmm...

It just now occurred to me that I haven't updated the blog since, well, last month.

It's the Christmas season, the neighbors are going all out in their decorations.
Thankfully the moving reindeer one of them has stopped moving. That thing wierds me out when it moves...

The tree is up and decorated, the stockings are hung, the decorations are up, the M&Ms are minty... and it isn't even a full week into December. What's wrong with this picture?!

Gaah. Is it just me, or is the Christmas season slowly moving up the calender?
It isn't me. No, it isn't me.

'Tis the season... of commercialism!

'Tis the season to spend all your hard-earned money on extravagant gifts and charities, and stress yourself out over who-gets-what and visit-the-relatives and show-off-my-decorations.

'Tis the season that it slowly but surely turning the facade of a relaxing sit by the fire with family inside out and tearing it to shreds.

Or is it just me?

-wide eyes-

I have been consumed with a new manga obsession. Blame Kate. It's called Death Note and it PWNs all. Bwahaha! Waah. It's too totally PWNful to explain, especially if you're not into manga. Suffice it to say that I will be spending much of my allowance on new volumes, existing ones if I don't get to read the copies Kate has when she leaves for UNC. -shudder- Wow. I am overwhelmed by its coolness.

Nuthin' much...

Nothing much to report here, one of the reasons I haven't said much lately. One thing that'll keep me busy are a) the annotated bibliography for my Civics project due next Monday and b) the Spanish project due Monday. It's really not that much once you get past the panic. 20 sources for the bibliography, some primary. (which is hard to do considering my topic is Pompeii and the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius...) The Spanish thing I can write out the content now and comandeer Mom's laptop to actually type it up, and voi la! Pardon spelling...

We got Radar back! Squeeeeeee! It was one of those don't-dare-to-move-lest-I-break-the-spell moments. We tried calling him inside first, which didn't work. Then we resorted to bribery with food, which was almost foolproof since the poor little bugger hadn't eaten properly since he got out. We scattered treats all around inside the door, and managed to lure him far enough inside to shut the door. We all breathed a big sigh of relief.

Fe.

Sorry I haven't been on, not really much happened. A recap of the time since I last posted and now is: I hate Macs, and storms are frustrating. Not much new, eh?

The Mac story. I typed a paper for Algebra II on the Mac. I made the necesarry adjustments, and decided to print it out on the new scanner-printer-copier we got a while back. Well, Mom and I tinkered around, and found out that we needed the driver disk in order to use the new printer with the Mac, so Mom dug it out and put it in. Guess what? The whatchamacallit on the Mac is too old, so the new printer can't talk to the Mac. I'll remember what the whatchamacallit is eventually. We'd tried to save the document to Mom's jumpdrive and transfer it to her laptop, but that didn't work because Macs are too different from whatever the laptop is. So, we called Dad, the local computer guru. After a lot of frustrated growling and under-the-breath profanity, we managed to burn the document onto a disk so that the laptop could read it, and I got it printed.

Storms. Last night we recieved an official tornado watch, at about 8:30 I think. Supposedly a tornado-strength storm was heading our way. Mom and I went about our buisness as per usual, content with the fact that this house survived Hugo, so we felt safe. At about 11 or so, the storm hit. It was mainly wind, and I know we just got brushed with the tip 'cause when I saw lightning flash, it took a while for the thunder to reach us. I surely hope Radar was all right outside... I'll explain that in a sec. It turns out that Kate's flight was delayed because of that storm system as it moved north, so her flight will come in at about 9 am tomorrow, which means Mom and I won't be able to get her. I'm considering seeing if Ms. Davis will forgive me for missing the game so we can have a family dinner tomorrow night.

Okay, so Radar, our youngest cat and the most recent addition to our zoo, got out sometime between Saturday and Sunday of the week before last. Poor little bugger's been outside ever since, I got a little worried when the wind was howling last night. Anyhow, we know he's outside, or we did. I hope he stuck around. We're waiting on Kate to get back, and when she starts work back up at Claws and Paws, if she does, we'll see of the inn will lend us a cat trpa so we can snag the little booger. Radar is ferel, and will be for the rest of his life, so it's impossible to catch him in the open, poor thing.

-sigh-

Not much today, really. I wore my new earcuff, despite occassionally getting a sore ear. I didn't mention the earcuff last entry, did I? It's kinda like an earring around the cartilage for those who don't have or want a piercing, which makes if perfect for me. It looks like a toering, really. Mine's kinda gold-ish with a gark grey bead, it's simple but pretty. Some of the more ornate ones have intricate frills that can go around the inside of the ear. Mom got one that had a chain connecting the cuff to a stud for actual piercings, it's cool-looking but must be annoying when it falls off.
School looks like this: boring civics, slightly confusing Spanish, boring-when-I-get-it-and-my-classmates-don't algebra II, and semi-interesting English X. We currently have some kind of project going for each class, and one for IB which is like, I'm told, an AP personal project. I've got a head start on this over many of my classmates, since I've already started writing mine. I've stripped everything but the plot away from Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet and re-written it in my own style.
I also have a head start on the English porject, having turned the first stage of the project in already, though it's not due 'til the eigth. The others, heh, I'll get to work on those eventually. Yes, I'm a noted proctastinator, as those who know me personally are well aware of.

Ren Fest!

Whoot, today was the Ren Fest trip! Iwas fun, we went with a long-time friend of mine Kelsey and Jocelyn, her Mom. We got there around half-past ten and left at about five-ish. We meandered our way around the sprawling complex, enjoying ourselves emmensely and blowing cash. I got a cool cap and a few feathers to stick in it once I figured out how, and a pretty rose. I also managed to wheedle my dear, sweet mother into buying me a wooden scimitar-type sword. That was probably the worst mistake she's made this week. The main attraction of the day was the jousting. It was a three-part plot that entailed some fake blood, lots of crashing and banging, and an annoyingly arrogant French character. It started out as a simple tournament to declare a chamion among champions, which was tied at the first show, and ended in a challenge for a duel to the death at the second, ending predictably with the hometown champ winning out in the third show. I finally fixed my cap so the feathers will stay in, though I've had a dull headache since halfway through the ride home.

I dislike cleaning cat cages with a passion.

It never fails, every time I go to Petsmart, I end up cleaning the cat cages. The store has a small side room with glass to let people see inside, which is where Tri County leaves some of their cats for people to gawp at. I end up cleaning these cages out, usually, because I'm one of the few who is willing to do so. Several of the cats dislike being moved, so I end up having to wrap them on a towel or blanket before taking them out. If all the cages are taken up, I pull down a carrier from the shelf-like space created by the top row of cages to stuff the cats in. It's annoying, especially with stubborn, big, or wriggly cats. It is smelly, and stuffy, since there's no ventelation and I keep the door closed to keep any cats that escape from running out the door. I have to scoop all the feces from the litter boxes, refill food and water bowls, clean them out if necessary, and brush litter and other grit from the padded floors if the cats spread it all over the place, which they almost always do. Once I'm done I smell to high heaven and am usually scratched up from irate cats, but I do get the chance to play with some of my favorite cats. My favorite that's here now is a young adult, probably just over a year old, named Sammy Lee. He hates other cats, and isn't overly fond of dogs, but he adores people. He meaws and complains when I don't pay attention to him, but as soon and I unlock and reach into his cage he starts purring like a car motor. He'll sit in my arms for as long as I'll hold him, and often resorts to playing with my hair is he gets bored. I can't resist cuddling him, he's just too sweet to ignore. Kawaii. My latest battle-scar is a doozy that a pair of kittens gave me when I was trying to move them from a top cage to the one below so I could clean it out. I tucked them both under my arms, but one wriggled out backwards and the other forwards, so I had one by the back paw and the other by the shoulder. They started to yowl and flail, so I had to drop them before they hurt themselves. Before they could gather their wits I grabbed both their neckscruffs and plunked them in the temporary cage. (Before you comment about the neckscruff thing, it doesn't hurt them a bit. That's how female cats pick up their young, you know. It makes their bodies relax so they don't flail around and injure themselves, and sends some soothing endorphins through their their systems, so it actually helps.) Anyhow, when those little boogers were struggling, the one in my left arm managed to give me a good scratching on my forearm, drawing a good amount of blood I might add. Hmm, quite the novel I'm writing in the blog as the days progress. Soon enough I could print this out and post a five-volume autobiography. I do hope you realize that I was joking.