Measi's Musings

Archive for December, 2006

My new job is going well so far. I’m settling in, and for the most part am finding my way around both the style guidelines that I need to follow and finding my way around the office. I still don’t know most people’s names, but some are starting to stick. I know that will happen with time.

I did find it amusing that the very night I go out with my old workmates last week for drinks – something I wound up having to avoid doing while I was working at that job due to false accusations about not putting in the correct number of hours – I get both a phone call and an email from my old boss asking me to come in to help in the evenings, since they still haven’t hired a new admin. Never mind the fact that I made that offer twice before I left the job and didn’t get an answer one way or the other until I contacted my boss during the last day that I was there to see what I should do about my ID and such on my way out the door. She said she’d get in contact with the internal temp agency to send me paperwork– which wasn’t done until the same day she called me last week. It takes three weeks to do that? Sounds like… exactly the kind of crap that I put up with for years.

My guess is that it finally hit that I did, in fact, do a crapload of work at that job. Now no one’s there to do the work, and the shit is finally hitting the fan. Which makes me sad in some ways because I do care for the majority of the people I used to work with, and I don’t want their lives to be hellish at work because there’s no admin there. But then again, with the exception of only a few people… I never felt like I was supported. Appreciation was uncommon. Civility became uncommon over the last four months. I was always fighting from a corner, always on my own, and always at the bottom of the barrel where all of the shit flowed. It made me horribly depressed, both at work and away from it. I really was just going through the motions of life for the past year, trying to survive until my wedding so I could leave. In the end, I just couldn’t push myself to endure all of the bullshit. I was sick of going home in tears, crying to Erich about how I just couldn’t understand why it had to be this way. But in the end, it just… did. My manager played a lousy hand, and I called the bluff by getting a new job.

Since the week of Thanksgiving, I’ve realized just how bad my mental state really was at that job. As soon as I got the call last week, I started feeling the anxiety and the panic about dealing with her all over again. I think that was the wake-up call sign about what I should do, not to mention some strong doubts about how this really would work out, and how long in reality such a position would last. I mean– I gave my notice well over a month ago, and they haven’t hired even a temp to come in? Let’s just say that I’m not exactly trusting that this would be a temporary position. I’m already trained to do the job. I forsee that I’d be getting dumped with the work for a long time to come– only this time with no bennies.

Thankfully, I can honestly say that my new job is keeping me too busy. I’ve stayed late over half of the days I’ve been working there so far. It’s the start of one of the busier seasons in my new industry, and lots of projects are needed to go out the door ASAP. I couldn’t guarantee steady hours over there even if I wanted to– which I honestly don’t.

It’s great to feel wanted, and that the work that I do is valued– but in this case, it was way too little, way too late. I’ve moved on to much better things, and I don’t regret it for a single second.

(title reference comes from a rather… odd… cartoon short here. Funny… with some great one-liners that have become very common in our gaming group.)

Fizzy
Originally uploaded by measi.

So… cat entry #2 is on Mephista, more commonly known as Fizzy.

Fizzy is our littlest cat– she’s all of 7.25 pounds. She appears black in person and in photos, but when the sun shines on her, she’s actually a mink brown tabby (with very narrow stripes from head to the tip of her tail). She has one small white stripe of fur on her belly, white fur protecting her ears and a stray white hair here and there all over her coat. Her eyes are pale yellow. Her whiskers, nose, and paw pads are all black. She’s five years old and the princess of the household. She needs to know what’s going on at all times, but never really wants to be bothered. She is a human’s cat, but not a cat’s cat. She does NOT play, thank you very much. And don’t dare pick her up– unless you’re wearing a full body suit of kevlar. Those claws will be digging firmly into the nearest body part if you try to remove her from solid ground.

Fizzy came to us in August 2001 as the second cat in the household. I’d started dating Erich only three months before. My first cat, Colley, was forced to be home alone more and more, and it was causing some temperment problems because he was so lonely. We decided to start looking for a cat (preferably one of the many “free to a good home” cats) to keep him company.

In early August, I was reading one of the many internet listservs that I belonged to. A woman and her husband belonged to a group that trapped, spayed and released the stray cats that lived around the Yard at Harvard University. One of the cats they’d caught was pregnant, so they waited for the cat to have kittens– then posted the kittens on the listserv. If I recall correctly, they were a mix of black and grey cats. Some were polydactyl. We asked for a black poly-toed kitten, but by the time we’d replied, they’d been spoken for. They did have a very small kitten (of undetermined sex), however… were we interested?

We said yes, and planned to meet them later in the week at the T stop at Harvard Square. When we got there, Fizzy was latched in a little ball to the woman’s shirt (I’m sure the sounds of the MBTA station were scaring the crap out of her). We exchanged the kitten– Fizzy immediately clung onto my shirt just below my chin and nuzzled there. We managed to detach her and get her into Colley’s carrier, wished the couple well and headed back to my apartment on the train.

My long-time readers will remember Fizzy as the cat that confused both Erich and me when she was a kitten. For the first six months, we thought Fizzy was male– and so “his” full name was Mephisto. That changed during the appointment to have “him” neutered. So… a quick change of name, and Mephisto became an -a.

Fizzy definitely seems relieved that we finally clued into the obvious. She was rather dainty from the start, but we are stupid humans, after all. She got back to us by informing me for well over a year that Erich was HER human. She’d nip at his heels as he went from the bathroom to the bedroom after a shower, as well as perch and prance on all of his clothes for him, vying for his attention.

From the start, Colley was extremely gentle with Fizzy. They played together, and Fizzy would flip over on her back and profess how Huge and Vicious ™ she was by splaying her claws and opening her mouth to show her tiny pointed teeth. This usually confused Colley, who would just stare at her and blink. It was quite cute.

Fizzy also imprinted on Colley- until she was nearly a year old, she would “nurse” on Colley. Granted, I was a bit concerned about my older neutered male cat and his gender issues… but he seemed okay with it. To this day, Fizzy will come and nuzzle on Colley for comfort.

Fizzy has the distinction of being the first cat I ever had who retained all of her claws. My parents, coming from both a generation and a social circle who found it acceptable to do front declaws on cats, had always had them declawed. But Fizzy quickly learned how to behave from Colley (who was declawed by my mother before I got him) and never was destructive. I might add that we’ve never declawed any of the cats since. Each of them has learned from the one before in some way or another, and we don’t have that many problems with scratching.

Anyway… getting back to Fizzy…

She’s the most high-strung of all of our cats. She tends to hide out when there’s a lot of commotion. She’s always been a “quiet” cat. She likes quiet places, and loves to perch. She gets frightened and anxious easily. For example, when we moved into our house last year, the stress of moving caused her to have a bout of temporary alopecia. She lost most of the fur on the backs of her hind legs, plus a huge spot on her chest, mostly due to overgrooming from the stress. Thankfully it grew back after a few months (but we were very concerned).

She doesn’t like to play– her least favorite cat is Gus, who has constantly taunted her since he was a kitten. He often wants to wrestle with her– and pounces her, causing her to scream and hiss as if she were being killed. It’s… unpleasant to listen to. Thankfully she’s now found spots where she can relax undisturbed. And we also have Noby and Elly to keep Gus busy.

But aside from her aloofness, she is a loving cat one on one. Last night and this morning, for example, she was extremely cuddly. She perched on my shoulder a lot last night as I played computer games. This morning she weaved around both of our heads in bed, purring as we gave her little back scratches.

She’s the fearless cat in our group as far as food goes. Her biggest craving is cheese (and not the “real” cheese, either). I found this out when she was a few months old. She would steal pieces of the Hamburger helper or Mac & Cheese that I’d be having for dinner at the time. She LOVED the powdered cheese… and would eat the pasta, too.

I can’t fathom how she stays so small with such a love of junk food.

I never updated my goals at the beginning of the month, due to all of the craziness that resulted from starting my new job. Here’s where I’m at, and where I’m looking to go, both in December and for 2007.

In November, I wanted to..

1) Complete my portion for Autumn’s flower RR done!
2) Finish Home is Where the Cat Is nope… still not done. *sigh*
3) Complete 20 hours on Goldie’s UFO RR piece done and mailed.
4) Work 10 hours on Apache I did around five…
5) Cook a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner and enjoy the day with family and friends. definitely done!

So for December, I want to…

1) Finish Home is where the Cat Is… seriously, this time.
2) Complete my flower on Linda’s piece for Flower RR
3) Work 10 hours on Gina’s piece for UFO RR
4) Finish the sunset & tree band on Apache Wedding Blessing.
5) Put together my stitching plan for 2007.

I had a good year stitching, although I didn’t finish any of my stitching goals for 2006. They were (just for the record…)

- Finish two TW’s I finished one, and another is now moving as part of the UFO RR.
- Complete both Wedding Samplers About 50% on one, haven’t started the other. Should be done with #1 over the winter.
- Complete 5 other pieces (any size) I finished one other piece this year. The TW finish took more time than I expected.

For 2007, I hope to do the following:

Finishes
———-
Apache Wedding Blessing (sometime during the winter)
Teresa Wentzler’s Floral Bellpull (traveling in the UFO RR currently)
Cats on Staircase stocking
Dragon Dream’s elemental dragons still remaining: Spirit, Air, Water, and Earth

Starts
———-
Dragon Dream’s Wedding Blessing
(Either) Spring or Autumn Queen
Why I Love New England
One Cat Leads to Another…

I know that keeping a solid rotation is going to be difficult the closer I get to my wedding in September, but I see stitching as my release from the planning stress! So I’ll do the best I can.

It’s my 13th edition of the Thursday Thirteen. I really wanted to find something witty, but my brain has fried. So instead, I bring you to thirteen years ago, December 7, 1993.

Thirteen Things about Measi, Thirteen years ago 1. I was 18 years old. 2. I was a freshman at Boston University, planning on majoring in journalism but not allowed to declare it for three more semesters. 3. Classes for the semester had ended, and I was prepping for my first round of collegiate final exams (complete with the infamous blue books). 4. I was a new pledge to Tau Beta Sigma, having joined the organization through Concert Band. I knew absolutely nobody in the organization, but liked the idea of a sorority of bandswomen. Miracle of miracles, they accepted me. It was after I became a pledge that I began participating in Pep and Marching Band at B.U. 5. I wore size 14 clothes. (I’m now in a 24/26 *sob*) 6. I’d gotten a perm over Thanksgiving at my grandparents’ house — I recall it specifically because I had perfect little loose ringlets all winter. It was the last perm I ever had (to the present day). 7. My mom still lived in California at that time, so I spent Thanksgiving with my grandparents in Pennsylvania. They were my closest relatives to where I was attending school. (My mom moved to PA to be closer to my grandparents about a year and a half later). 8. I had just returned from my first ever trip to New York City. I went with a dorm floor mate who grew up in the Boston metro area and his mom. We took a bus to NYC, saw the Radio City Christmas Spectacular (the live nativity actually brought me to tears), went skating at Rockefeller Center, and got our pictures taken with Santa at Saks Fifth Avenue. 9. I lived in Warren Towers, which is a monster of a building on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston– 1,500+ students in one dorm. My room was a standard double on the northwest corner of C tower, 13th floor. I never saw my roommate, Kathy, again after freshman year. 10. That December was the start of one of the snowiest winters in Boston– over 100 inches fell in the city that winter. Coming from the eastern side of the Rockies (where the storms fizzled out before reforming over the Plains), I’d never seen so much snow at once. 11. I didn’t yet know any of the people I now consider my college buddies. I didn’t meet Ivanna until the next year (even though she’s older than me), and everyone else was at least a year behind me in school. 12. I had a twice monthly excursion to all of the following places: Salem, Mass. (Pagan browsing), Tower Records (@ the corner of Mass Ave. and Newbury Street), India Quality restaurant (at its original location in Kenmore Square), Pandemonium Books & Games (at *its original location in Harvard Square over the German restaurant), the Harvard Coop (for no reason…except it was near Pandy), Arsenic & Old Lace (Pagan store formerly at Mass Ave between Harvard and Porter Squares), and Gypsy Moon (funky fantasy clothing store across the street from Arsenic). 13. I had never played any Dungeons & Dragons or any other role-playing game at that point.

The Heart of Hakkar
Originally uploaded by measi.

While a mild-mannered administrative assistant at work, I tend to fall into pure geekdom mode once I get home. Weekends generally have some sort of a Dungeons & Dragons-esque game going on- not always one I’m personally participating in, but as we have a house where there are no kids that need quiet time after a particular hour, nor time limits to wrap up due to parking restrictions in the neighborhood, plus a good amount of room (and an accessible grill for making food), it often takes place at our place anyway.

On top of that, there are nightly excursions in the World of Warcrackcraft, where Erich and I play – together – while sitting in our own offices. It’s silly and odd, but we do have a good time running around together and causing general mayhem.

Last week, however, was a “beat the game patch” week, where we were constantly playing the same game within the game (Alterac Valley, for those in the know) so I could get some nifty items that would be lost with the patch, due to some major changes in how the game fuctions (it was a large patch– about 450 megs worth). For a straight week, we got home, we turned on the computers, we’d play WoW for about four to five hours, and then go to bed.

If you’ve seen the recent World of Warcraft South Park episode? Yeah… it was kind of like that. (sheepish) What can I say? I can be a truly pathetic lifeless loser when I need want to be.

I have to admit- I didn’t understand the addiction to these online games before I played WoW. I’ve known several people who were addicted to Everquest when it was at its peak popularity. I’ve lost friends (and my fiance) to hours of Halo Online. Even when I started playing WoW, I thought it was okay– a bit cartoonish, a little cheesy. But the detail in the game was so cool. Plus I didn’t have to rely on others to play– if I wasn’t in the mood to do XYZ, I could just go run around and explore for a while. Friends who had moved to other states also played, so we could still hang out and goof off together.

In late summer, Erich (alter ego Abudiabudie… because he wants to annoy everyone who tries to spell the damn thing) and I (alter ego Tennetty) joined a guild called Burrito Bandits on our server. They’re a fun-loving, wide age range bunch who just like to have a good time. Conversation on the text channel and our audio channel tends to be quite silly. We work well together as a group on some of the more challenging high-level dungeons (which require 20 or 40 people on a team).

It’s 21st century social networking at its finest.

Ah yes… now that it’s winter, the MBTA is showing its stupidity again.

This morning, we had no heat on our car– and the system was blowing the cold air into the car for the entire hour’s ride in. At first, I tried to excuse it as “Oh, it’s the first run for this train of the day… it’s probably just cold from sitting overnight in the yard.” But nope, it was still as cold as when we boarded. I needed to thaw for a few minutes in South Station before trekking over to work.

I could put a complaint in on the MBTA website, but based on the response I got this summer, all I’ll get is a generic meaningless “we got your email, now bugger off!” response about a month after the fact. Then they’ll add my email to an MBTA mailing list where they send occasional spam messages about how MBTA service is improving (riiiiight) and what they’ve done to improve things (riiiight).

So if I put in a complaint today about the unheated car– I’d probably get a response in.. February or so.

I would blow it off for the most part, except that as of January, my monthly commuter rail pass is going from $198 a month to $250 a month. For that much of a raise, I’d like to have cars working properly.

But above all of these fare increases, the MBTA still whines that it’s broke. Broke after years of neglect with stations rusting through, platforms pitted and in need of complete structural rebuilding, escalators constantly out of service with permanent “temporarily out of order” signs, and trains that never get cleaned. When I was in college, we were greeted on Monday mornings with recently cleaned trains that had the over-powering scent of lysol within. It was deadly strong, but at least we knew that they’d made some effort to at least mop the floors in the cars.

While some station improvements have been going, the MBTA has wasted its money putting an entirely new fare system in place for the system– with electronic reader cards (known as Charlie Cards… because the current generation is so familiar with the Kingston Trio’s song) to eliminate tokens. It’s similar in appearance to the BART system in the San Francisco area of the late 1980′s and early 1990′s (no idea if it’s still the same out there). You get a single ticket, on which you place your desired amount of stored fare money. Each ride, the fare is deducted.

Only problem with Boston’s system is that the old one wasn’t broken- other than the fact that the token dispensing machines were always broken down. This new system appears to have only been introduced to eliminate booth workers. The sliding glass panes at the fare collection stations are slower than turnstyles. They’re a frustration to exit, and I’m just waiting for about a year down the road when they start breaking and the MBTA doesn’t fix them.

I realize that for a while, the MBTA was the cheapest train system in the nation- it was 85 cents to ride it the entire time I was in college. I realize that fares have to increase. But if the fares are increasing, justify it with at least comparable service. With each increase, the quality of service goes down. Another increase, and it’s quite possibly no longer cost effective for Erich and I to commute by train. Right now, we have two zone eight passes (so… $500 per month, just for tickets), plus $60 for parking (assuming $3 per day for 20 days a month). Parking in Boston is about $15 per day at the cheap lot now located close to both of our offices. It’s $24-26 at most other lots. Sure, it’s wear and tear on our car… but if the train continues to be a frustration- is it worth it?

I thought mass transit was supposed to encourage people to not drive to work.

(sigh)

So for the first of my five – yes five – entries to introduce and discuss the true rulers of our household, I figured I’d start with the comedian of the group:

Nobanion (pronounced No-BAN-yon)

But before I start this, you’ll notice a theme with our cats– they all have long, formal names, and then they have daily nicknames. I’m really not sure why. But they all do.

Anyway… Nobanion, or Noby, as we normally identify him, is now just about 18 months old. He’s an orange and white tabby – all of his orange patches are very distinctly striped. The spots over his shoulder blades make a perfect Mickey Mouse ears image. He has light copper eyes that are just a couple shades paler than his orange spots. His whiskers are white, and both his nose and his paws are pale pink. He’s the twin of Elly, who I’ll talk about in my next entry.

His name is the god of cats (and is represented by a lion) in the Forgotten Realms universe. I loved the name, and with his personality… it fit. Immediately.

Noby (and Elly) arrived in our house in September 2005 by pure dumb luck. On our way home, we turned from the main road by our house (a U.S. highway) onto one of several side streets that connect with our street. It was very dark, so it had to be well after seven p.m. As we passed a streetlight, I caught a glimpse of a cat with two kittens stumbling behind her. I just exclaimed “KITTENS!” and we pulled over.

We could tell immediately that all three cats were feral. The mother was quite young and thin. The kittens were not in good health- with a myriad of issues (the first we noticed was the severe conjunctivitis in their eyes). We managed to get the kittens, but couldn’t get the mother as she ran off into the darkness. After asking at a couple houses if they knew who these kittens might belong to (if anyone), we were able to determine that yes, they were in fact strays. And they were in dire need of medical attention.

Three hundred dollars in emergency vet bills later, we’d bought ourselves two kittens. The conjunctivitis was a secondary infection to a serious case of herpes– the cat version of cold sores. They had fleas. They had worms. They had ear mites. They were definitely scummy little kittens. But the vet, after a second checkup about a week later, said they were just fine– despite being ill, they were romping around like any other kittens, eating well, and doing just fine.

Noby warmed up to us first- that first night at the vet, we were in the exam room with him sitting on the metal table as the vet went to get some flea medication & run the tests for mites. Noby turned around to groom himself, and we could just SEE the fleas run away from the pressure. But as soon as Erich reached to scratch his ear… he purred. Seven weeks old, around complete strangers, and he purred, leaning into Erich’s fingers.

He’s never changed. Noby is definitely the extrovert of the bunch- he greets anyone who comes over to our house. He tends to be the performer, investigating things or playing with things in front of guests for their amusement. He pounces fingers on the bannister as we head down the stairs. He attacks the wall for no reason as we come up the stairs. And most recently, he made quite an impression with the roofers last Saturday as they worked on the sunroom. The entire time they were there, he hung out in the bedroom window, fascinated with what they were doing – the leader of the crew remarked how “that orange cat was just so friendly.”

He’s also incredibly affectionate. He comes up between the two of us as we settle down to sleep and generally flops down on my head for attention. He cuddles as close as he possibly can (normally… on my nose). He has specific ways of being held, though– if you try to pet him when he’s not in the mood, he’ll start chewing on your fingers and kneading your hands as if he’s trying to nurse.

Per the photo above- he sleeps in weird positions. We’ve wondered whether or not he’s double jointed, although the idea of a cat (which is already made of rubber) being double-jointed just seems odd. Then again, so are those angles in which he rests his front legs as he sleeps every day- chin flat down on the chair, front legs splayed out and bent backwards, back legs tucked under him, and tail stretched out long.

He has the most pathetic little mew of a voice– it sounds like the cry of a tiny kitten needing attention. It’s not the voice of a nearly ten pound male cat. Perhaps we snipped him a tad too early? (but really… it couldn’t be helped… we had both a male and female kitten of the same age… we had to be extra careful with our dates).

He’s our little monkey cat, and I can’t imagine life without him.

Before I can start writing my “here are my cats” entries, I need to decide upon and upload photos of each of them to Flickr. So for now, I’ll use yesterday’s writing prompt:

“Holiday music: essential part of the season, or ‘no way, it makes my ears bleed’?”

For me, it depends on the music. I get very sick of “Feliz Navidad” and “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” over and over. I try to ignore most of the trendy renditions of the songs that appear on the increasingly sucky A Very Special Christmas compilations (ever notice the ones in frequent replay are off the first album only? There’s a reason for that…).

With the exception of Trans-Siberian Orchestra – who I really wish I could afford to see in a couple weeks when they come to Providence – I don’t care for a lot fo the current songs out there. Call me a purist. I want to hear Bing Crosby and Burt Ives. I enjoy most of the renditions off of the first A Very Special Christmas compilation. I’ll happily take some beautiful brass quartet renditions or the non-confrontational muzak or smooth jazz.

The one thing, though, that does make my ears bleed is hearing seasonal music before Thanksgiving. I don’t need Christmas music around Halloween, thanks. Nor do I want to see the decorations up in a store that early. If you have them for sale, well… I think it’s early but I’ll tolerate that. Christmas music shouldn’t be played through store speakers until Black Friday, in my opinion.

I do get tired of it, though, by the time Christmas comes around- and I think it’s because it’s the same stuff played over and over. There is so much Christmas music out there—I wish stores would both play a variety, and play stuff appropriate to the surroundings. When I’m going into the drug store, I don’t need to be blasted by a full choral version of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” or a Josh Groban’s over-enthusiastic rendition of “O Holy Night.” I need to be focusing on reading the warning labels at that moment. On the other side of the coin, hearing the songs from the Radio City Christmas Spectacular while skating at Rockefeller Center is great.

For me, holiday music isn’t so much about creating the atmosphere of the holidays—that’s accomplished just fine by the changing weather, the lights and the crazy schedules as we shuffle from one party to the next. Holiday music helps bring back memories from years past, thinking about loved ones now missed dearly, and enjoying a few more moments with them through those memories.

Erich and I woke this morning to heavily falling snow. Only a dusting had settled on the ground and the roads were clear, but it was just heavy enough to give all of the trees a very pretty flocked appearance. It was also one of those snows that I know won’t stay very long. It’s going to be just warm enough to make anything white disappear by day’s end. A bit of the slushy aftermath may remain, but that’s about it.

It made me glad that we finished a good chunk of our yard cleanup on Sunday morning, just in time for the snow to fall. We’ve filled about eight of those large paper leaf bags so far this season and probably have another four or so to go. We also have lost several large limbs from our maple trees this season. Both of us are a bit concerned that the trees may be diseased. Sometime next year, we’ll probably get a tree doctor out to check them out. It just doesn’t seem right that a 15 foot limb with a 6+ inch span would just come down. It’s been windy, but not THAT windy. I’d hate to lose the height of those trees, but at the same time I know it’s better to just get rid of them if they’re sick trees. We’d just have to replant.

We can make use of the wood from those limbs, however. We bought one of those outdoor fireplaces so we could safely burn off twigs and brush that we need to dispose of (rather than attempting to bundle them). Erich has used the chainsaw to create logs out of the larger limbs for foundation logs in the fire. So yesterday as one person raked and bagged leaves, the other stoked a fire and burned off some brush. We traded off after every couple bags.

It was also good timing because we had our roof over the sunroom replaced on Saturday morning. During one of the recent heavy rainstorms, a good amount of water went through the roof, down the wall, and right into our sunroom. The plaster on the ceiling is now in need of replacement, and we may have to replace part of the wall as well. Erich called our insurance company, and while they said the roof was due to normal wear & tear, they did pay a claim on the interior damage. Thankfully the things that got wet wasn’t anything too valuable- mostly our Dungeons & Dragons notebooks, a couple books, etc. I have to rewrite character sheets, but that’s no big deal.

In any case, the roofers came on Saturday and put a new rubber roof over the existing asphalt one. Apparently when they took off the lowest siding board, they found the problem- the channel that was supposed to wisk water away from the roof had been covered over during the last resurfacing of the roof, so the water had nowhere to go until it soaked through. (sigh)

In any case, it’s done, and unlike the asphalt roof, this one is supposed to last for at least 20 years.

Ah yes… home ownership.

What was that about a money pit?

I don’t generally get to sleep in on weekend mornings. Most of the time, my brain decides that I have, in fact, forgotten to turn on my alarm clock and am about to miss my train. But in the off chance that the internal alarm clock doesn’t go off, we have five other alarm clocks that generally start voicing their opinion by about 8 a.m. or so.

Cats really need love, of course. And as their humans, we should be catering to them on their schedules… dammit.

This morning’s edition of Feline Alarm was paid for by Nobanion. Around 8:30, he sauntered up the entire length of my body, making sure to walk over my head. He then bit my nose, licked it, and flopped unceremoniously with his flanks on my face with enough force to make me sneeze. He then relaxed, slid down into the hammock formed by my shoulder and outstretched arm, and began to purr.

For a few moments, I thought that maybe he was just going to cuddle up and go to sleep there, and I could doze for a while. I can’t think of many things that I love as much as the slow wakeups on the weekends curled up to one of the cats, just being lazy. It’s relaxing, it’s peaceful. And it’s rare.

So I just stayed there, resisting my morning allergies as they started to kick in. But Noby had other plans for me. He decided that he needed further attention, and began chewing on my outstretched fingers.

So much for cuddling.

I got up, used the bathroom, and came back to bed. Noby hadn’t wanted my attention at all.

He just wanted the warm spot that I’d leave so he could take a nap.

(sigh)

The sun is partly hidden. The skies are debating whether to clear or stay in that half-fog haziness that keeps everything feeling just a bit damp. The winds on the seaport are light, giving just a bit of a breeze to freshen the air every few minutes. It’s just shy of 70 degrees- absolutely delightful weather.

No one has a coat on.

In Boston.

On November 30th.

If I didn’t know better, I’d argue that I’m now working in San Francisco. The recent weather reminds me so much of the December weather in the Bay Area as I’d visit my mother for the holidays. Coming from a Rocky Mountain upbringing, to be able to go outside in a t-shirt and jeans on Christmas was such a novelty.

The same novelty applies in New England. Usually this time of year I’m swearing as I try to find where my mittens have run off to during the overnight hours. I’m shivering as I wait on the concrete platform for the train, wincing as that blast of air hits me as the train rolls into the station. And walking through Boston in late November to early December? It’s painful. The street planners made Boston a fantastic wind tunnel. In fact, it’s the windiest major city in the United States. During the winter, residents are reminded of this fact every day as they trudge to work.

Yet the night of November 30th, it was absolutely beautiful. It was downright springlike.

As Erich and I settled down to bed, we watched the Weather Channel to get the morning’s forecast. I knew a big thunderstorm was making its way east, and wanted a sense of what time it would hit. At only a couple minutes to midnight, it was 62 degrees with a low of something high 50s.

We slept with our bedroom windows wide open to catch the breezes. On November 30th.

It doesn’t get much better.

I haven’t answered the questions in the Friday Feast for a while…

Appetizer
Have you ever flown in a helicopter?

No. I’m honestly curious to do so, but I wonder if my fear of heights would come into play. It doesn’t in a plane, but that’s a tad bigger than a copter…

Soup
What color is your warmest coat or jacket?

It’s a leather jacket with a very plush faux leopard interior. Supposedly the coat is reversable, but I can’t imagine wearing the faux fur on the outside… it would be a bit… loud. But the jacket feels like literally wrapping a comfy blanket around you, even on the coldest days. But it’s also so thick that it makes me walk a bit like Ralphie’s little brother in A Christmas Story.

Salad
What is your favorite rainy day activity?

Playing World of Warcraft on the computer or stitching. I usually do a bit of both.

Main Course
Describe your hands.

I have small hands. I still wear kid sized mittens. My palms are fairly broad, and my fingers aren’t that long. I’m a chronic nail-biter, so my nails are severely short. I have a few scars on them from cat scratches, and I’m starting to get the slightest age lines on them. They go through a lot of abuse.

Dessert
If you could eat only one nut for the rest of your life, what nut
would you pick?

Honey coated cashews. I swear they’re laced with heroin.

It’s Holidailies, which means that several people who don’t commonly read me may be visiting. To the newcomers- welcome! I hope you’ll enjoy my writing, want to share comments and hopefully read after January 1st has passed us by…

With the beginning of Holidailies, I thought it best to start with introducing myself. It’s been five years since I wrote my original bio for my blog. I’ve cut and pasted new info, but it’s due for an overhaul. So…

My name is Melissa. I usually go by Mel (with both co-workers and friends), or by Measi (a childhood nickname that stuck). I’m on the cusp of age 32, a double Capricorn (if you’re into astrology), lazy-about-practicing Pagan, geek, cat lover, and craft-aholic.
I’ve lived in New England for 13 years. I originally came to Boston to attend Boston University, fell in love with my new surroundings, and have settled in to a life I love.

I’m engaged to a wonderful man named Erich. He’s a native Massachusetts boy, with the slightest bit of the accent that has made the region so famous. He’s about 6’3”, giving him nearly a foot of height over me. I don’t even reach his shoulder. We’ve been a couple since 2001, living together since 2002, and homeowners since 2005. We live in the Providence, Rhode Island metro area in a pretty old colonial house with a decent yard. Both of us still commute to Boston for work, so we’re close friends with the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority, also known as “the T.” Driving our commute daily would be a nightmare. Erich works in IT. I work as an Admin. Assistant.

One of the biggest reasons Erich and I clicked so well is our mutual geekness (geekitude?). We both enjoy computer games immensely. He tends to go for the first person shooters and more violent games. I tend to lean toward the Sims, Myst, and other simulation/strategy games. We both play World of Warcraft a lot, and often together. We also enjoy Renaissance faires, tabletop gaming (think Dungeons & Dragons), fandom conventions, and all of the nerdy things from our youth that led into such interests. I have additional geekness coming from years of marching and pep band membership.

We are owned by five loving but very weird cats, who have come into our lives at an oddly clockwork 2-year interval. Colley is 7, Fizzy is 5, Gus is 3, and the twins, Noby and Elly, are 1. Photos and details about each of them will follow in later entries this month.

The major hobby I talk about in my blog (other than blogging) is my stitching. I’m an avid cross-stitcher, and tend to have about a half-dozen projects in the works at any given time. I originally learned when I was in 5th grade through a class art project. I enjoyed it so much that I kept on going. It helped me feel a bit more connected to my mother, who sewed all the time when I was a child. She loved that I was interested in embroidery, too, and helped me select materials and such until I was out of college. I went through a few years of disinterest, but found myself really getting into it again about two years ago. I tend to work larger pieces, so completions are few and far between. But I find that the journey of stitching is honestly more fun than the completion. Most of my current projects and all completed projects are located in my Flickr account (on the right hand bar).

So what do I normally write about in my blog? It depends on my mood. I tend to write about what happens during my days. Lately I’ve been on a bit of a meme streak due to an inability to sit down, think and do quality writing. When I do have the time to really think and write, I’ll talk about topics that are personal- adoption, faith, lukewarm attempts at politics, etc.

So who’s reading? Drop a note and say hi!