Caturday

Jul. 27th, 2013 08:41 pm
wookiemonster: (Default)
HAPPY BIRFDAY [profile] sir_cat, [personal profile] oxymoron67, AND [personal profile] klingonguy!!!



So... High-speed, low-budget post...

I slept in all of fifteen minutes this morning, since Rocky wanted food and insulin, Yoda wanted food, and Brigid and Brandon needed to go out and go potty. Oh well. Though, I've been napping on and off all day...

That's not to say I haven't been at least somewhat productive. I've gotten a start on laundry. I cleaned my bathroom. I've watered the plants. I've gotten other odds and ends done. I'm mid-way though taking care of the cat boxes and trash, but, I'm slowly whacking back my to-do list for the weekend. My goal is to have next to nothing to worry about for Monday. And the less I have to worry about for tomorrow, the better.

Not much else. Rocky is happy it's the weekend and has been following me around most of the time. He, Yoda, and I watched the series finale for Star Trek: The Next Generation, "All Good Things..." Now, I have finally seen all of the TNG episodes. Yes, there were a few that I never saw because I had set the VCR to tape them, only to have a hockey game or somesuch pre-empt them. Actually, that's why I stopped watching Voyager in the seventh season... It was never on when it was supposed to be, so, setting the VCR was useless. I'll eventually get Voyager (and DS9 and the enhanced Original Series [I have the regular Original Series on DVD]) on DVD.

To top it off, the last year of TNG was my senior year of high school, so, I was also a bit busy with graduating and getting ready for college. In fact, the original air date of "All Good Things..." was my high school graduation night. And I just never...watched the beginning of the episode. But now, I have seen the TNG run in its entirety. That last episode was like some sort of warped Christmas Carol as well. I mean, it starts and ends with Picard demanding to know the date. And he's visited by the past, the present, and the future.

Thing is, and thanks to all the wonderful Trek authors, I had a hard time watching "All Good Things..." as an end to TNG. Leaving aside the movies, the fact is that the books have done a more than adequate job in continuing the TNG story/saga. (Not to mention, DS9 and Voyager, too.)

Not much else. So, back to work, I suppose...

Posted at LiveJournal and Dreamwidth
wookiemonster: (Default)
It has been a busy few days. Half week. Something like that.

Mom is now Mrs. Magner.

It's a good thing I took Thursday and Friday off. Thursday, I took care of the errands of running to craft shops - Michael's and Joann's - to get stuff pertaining to flowers, decorations, and various other wedding festivities. I also picked up my tux. This might not sound like much, but, given that I'm not super artsy or anything, and being given a list of items I'd never heard of and sent on a seek-and-obtain mission to get them... It's kind of like a commercial scavenger hunt. I've been told that this was a "nice guy" thing to do, as other males would have simply looked askance. On the bright side, I got everything that was needed and managed to get the pew clips for just $1.oo instead of $2.00.

Friday, I dealt with more back issues and spent half the day with an ice pack on my back. I was originally going to deliver the goodie bags to the hotels where out-of-town guests were staying, but, my brother-in-law Scott got roped into that. My brother-in-law is awesome like that. Instead, we just had the rehearsal dinner Friday night. After the dinner, I went out for coffee and quiet time, and when I got home, I had apparently missed the festivities of the bridal attendants who helped finish making the centerpieces and assembling flower stuff. Instead, Mom was busy printing out the programs. Since she had had little sleep the night before, I helped fold them and cut the insert pages and so on. I did what I could to help her get to bed at a decent time in preparation for the next day's events. Except, she couldn't find the tiara hairpiece, and we spent the next hour and a half going through the house looking for it, to no avail. Turns out, it was with the rest of her stuff for her dress at the church.

Because I was up late, I got up a little later than originally planned on Saturday. Mom had already left with the rest of her entourage for hair and make-up. Rich called from down the street to make sure it was safe to come home and get breakfast, which it was. He left to get the lunch sub tray and pick up one of the groomsmen and head to the church. I stayed to grab a shower, make sure all the furkids had food and water, give Rocky his insulin, put the dogs out to go potty, and so on. I should note that the humidity was oppressive, and I was sweating even after my rather cold shower. Also, all the furkids were off the wall. Brigid and Brandon were almost constantly barking, which was excessive even for them. Yoda seemed to be permanently hungry and doing the alarm noise ad nauseum. Rocky was bordering on aggressive and howling more often than usual. Fortunately, I got everyone calmed down enough before I left. Giving Yoda a leftover stuffed shell from the rehearsal dinner seemed to mollify him immensely, and he was then able to call for Rocky and yell at the dogs, which helped get them all under control. Anyway, after the kids were taken care of, I made a pass through the house for anything that might have been forgotten and left for the church.

At the church, I changed into my tux. Of course, the room we had was sweltering. Thankfully, the rest of the church was decently air conditioned. While getting dressed, I helped Paul and Rich with their tuxes. While competitive dancing doesn't need a full tux at the level I danced, and even dance tuxes are different from regular tuxes, I still had done enough shows to know how to take care of bow ties and cuff links and so on. The tux pants we had were adjustable. Of course, I had a broken adjuster. Fortunately, Mandie had safety pins and helped me out.

Then began the busy-ness.

Somehow, I was drafted at random to take care of the boutinears. I found the 'fridge with the flowers in them, snagged my sister to help me figure out who gets what, and began distrubution of flowers. I had barely gotten that done that people started arriving. Got the young ladies set up with the programs and started escorting people to seats. Did what I could remembering who Mom said was to get front-row seats. This has a lot to do with the people who were there for us during some of the shittiest times of the past ten years.

Then the ceremony begins. Or, at least, the processional. They changed, at the last minute, where us groomsmen where entering from, which was neither here nor there, but, anyway. Then the ceremony begins. And fortunately, my sister and I get along rather well these days, so, I see the look of horror slowly crossing her face right before she mouths to me, in front of the pastor and the priest (Rich is Catholic, so, we had two officiants), "Oh shit! I lost the ring!"

You know that sinking feeling you get right when you realized you jumped out of the plane before strapping on your parachute?

So, I start thinking about my options. Do I pass out, let them cart me out of the sanctuary and then spring to life and go look for the ring? No, too dramatic. Sneak out? Might be considered rude. Fake a coughing fit or a bad sneeze? Yeah, that could work, but, let's save that as a last resort. And to note, this was planned to be a short ceremony. I look around me, as there's a piano behind me, some sound equipment off to the side... Maybe there's a coupling or somesuch that could work in a pinch. No such luck. So then it dawns on me that at least two of the other groomsmen are married. I whispered urgently to Nutsy next to me the situation and ask if he has a ring we can borrow. No, he's had problems getting his ring on lately, BUT, he had his father's wedding band on his keychain. Unfortunately, his fingers are still a little too swollen to get it off, so, I got it off, and we passed it down to my sister. Crisis averted. The ring, the "real" ring, was recovered shortly after the ceremony. It fell off of Mandie when she was adjusting Mom's train right before the processional.

After that was the receiving line and becoming borderline germophobic. Thankfully, there were the anti-bacterial hand sanitizer bottles throughout the narthex. After that was getting my Magic Murder Bag (Venture Brother's reference) packed with my clothes, and then pictures. Before the rain. Woot.

Fortunately, the rain stopped by the time we got to the reception, and we had a nice walk-in.

Pictures )

Now, the wonderful people at ThinkGeek.com have dinosaur plushies...



Thanks to internet memes, Mom and Rich have this joke about "I love you this much" with the picture of a T-Rex whose arms aren't very long, and so it doesn't look like very much. So when I got one of my regular e-mails from Think Geek advertising these new plushies, I got two of the T-Rex for Mom and Rich for a wedding present. I figured it would be a cute novelty thing that they'd like and would be better than a picture frame or somesuch.

Turns out, they were a big hit with them. They have been playing with their dinosaurs (curse their sudden and inevitable betrayal!) since I gave them to them. In fact, they had left them with the caterer to put on their sweetheart table (to raised eyebrows). You can even see one of them in one of the pictures above. Anyway, Mom told me that just about everyone, at some point, had come up to their table and asked about the dinosaurs, so, they had to explain the joke about 100 times. Mom says she should have just gotten on the mike and explained. I'm just glad I managed to get them a gift they enjoy, and are still enjoying. Especially when I wasn't expecting it to be such a hit.

Mom and Rich had a nice dance to their song (can't remember the title, but it's by Lady Antebellum). Mom and I danced a Fox Trot to Michael Buble's rendition of "The Best is Yet to Come." Mandie and Rich danced to "Thank Heaven For Little Girls." Then Mandie and I did a Cha Cha/Hustle to some 70s song. That was way too long.

At this point, I need to pat myself on the back while thanking my coaches Lisa Bently and Pete Taylor. They both taught the difference between competitive dancing and performance dancing. Both when dancing with Mom and with my sister, I thankfully knew enough floorcraft to make sure they were the center of attention. Having taught enough dance classes and having a derth of experience working with new dancers, my leading skills are still sharp, though I'm sure my sister felt tossed around a little. But, hey... performance! It was eough to impress pretty much everyone.

As for me? My footwork was atrocious (note to self: NEVER go to a wedding where I know I'll be utilizing my Captain Tango skills without my dance shoes!). My frame was okay and I felt my leading was on par with bludgeoning my partner to go in the right direction. However, again, I am forced to remember what I've been taught about the differences between competitive dancing and performance dancing: In competitive dancing, the judges know the steps and the technique and will grade you on it. In performance dancing, the audience doesn't give a fuck (Pete's words).

They had remarks from the best man and maid (matron?) of honor, which included my sister. She wasn't expecting that part, and the invective she used when she was called up was amusing. Nevertheless, she made a good speech and managed to use our phrase of "putting the 'fun' into 'dysfuntional.'" I don't think I've ever seen her husband, Scott, laugh so hard.

On an aside: I have to say I'm very proud to have Scott as my brother-in-law. He's cool to begin with, and I am glad that he takes care of my sister so well. He helped her where he could, made sure she had something to drink, and so on. After three (or is it four?) years of marriage, and years of dating before that, and he still dotes on her, is something nice to see in this day and age. Such treatment, I think, went a long way to keeping my sister on an even keel throughout. It was a good example of, "It's not her problem, it's our problem to solve." Hence, the support thing.

I think that about covers the reception. Afterwards, we changed and loaded up the cars and trucks and tralers with decorations, gifts, and so on. Managed to get the bulk of the stuff loaded before the clouds opened up again.

To give Mom and Rich some time to themselves, Mandie insisted I stay with her and Scott last night. So, I stopped at the house, gave Rocky his shot, refilled everyone's food and water, packed an overnight bag, and left.

Loki, one of Mandie's cats, who was adopted when she still lived with me and Mom, was taught well by TomTom. He remembers me from when we lived together, and in the same way TomTom would make sure to visit with Mandie when she came over after she'd moved out, Loki makes sure to visit with me whenever I go to my sister's. Anyway, he followed me around while I got set up in her guest room, looking at me funny. "Why are you here? What are you doing? You're not normally over here this late. Why are you sleeping here?"

I slept like the dead, but woke up around 10:30 to the sound of someone going through my stuff. I sat up on the bed, and sure enough, Loki and Lily were rummaging through my book bag and overnight bag. I asked them, "What are you two doing?" And they both looked at me like, "We're um, um, um... We were going to iron your clothes and put your books away for you. Hi. How are you?" This might be off-putting or just plain weird for most people, except, my cats do the same thing, so, yeah. They do better security than the TSA.

In general, I'm glad the wedding went off almost without a hitch. The only hitch being the intended hitch of Mom and Rich getting hitched. I'm glad my sister and I get along well these days, which has been the case since we had to break Mom out of a nursing home three years ago when she got her hip replaced. That helped a lot this weekend with averting possible situations and whatnot.

Posted at LiveJournal and Dreamwidth.

Rocky

Dec. 4th, 2012 01:32 am
wookiemonster: (Default)
Rocky has become a very good kitty. In some ways, though, this works to his disadvantage, in that he is often intimidated by the stepgoggies, Brandon and Brigid (yes, I've been spelling her name wrong). He doesn't like their barking and hyperness, and they bark if they just see him. But his aggressiveness has been curbed to where he simply runs away from them.

Until tonight.

The goggies were in the process of being put to bed, and Brandon was at the top of the steps, staring down Rocky at the foot of the steps. Well, I started going up the steps, and Rocky was creeping ahead of me. Then Rocky looked behind, saw that I was still there, and then Brandon started barking and "faking out" Rocky (moving like he's about to pounce). I don't know if Rocky felt emboldened by the fact I was behind him, took Brandon's stance as a threat to me, or if he'd just plain had had enough.

Rocky charged Brandon, chased him down the end of the hall and, from the sound of it, smacked Brandon around a bit. I didn't really hear anything from Rocky, but Brandon was yipping in a fashion that indicated he was getting his ass kicked.

Now, it would be nice for all these guys to get along. But Brandon and Brigid have been annoying, if not outright harassing, Rocky. If they see that Rocky will stand up for himself, then hopefully, they'll settle down a little and eventually, they'll actually get to know each other and such. Besides, Rocky is the alpha and needs to assert that; Brigid and Brandon are, for the most part, okay dogs, but I'm not sure there's half a brain cell between the two of them.

Anyway, Rocky cried afterwards. I don't think he liked having to be mean, but, in this case, I think he had to be. The dogs need to learn that they can't bark at him just for walking in a room, or steal his food, or chase him around the house, or anything else. He's okay now, and he knows I'm not mad at him, so, we're good.

But... Wow. My cat beat up a dog. Go Rocky!

Posted at LiveJournal and Dreamwidth

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