February 2008 Archives

Lately I've noticed that Ruby, though characteristically aloof a great deal of the time, becomes extremely demanding of my attention if I'm either (1) using a computer or (2) playing the guitar. My theory is that she realizes that these activities require more concentration than my usual household pastimes of eating over the sink and sitting on the couch staring into space, and this is threatening to her. She wants to know that, even when I'm focused intently creating the next great blog post, drafting a bit of highly skilled legal advocacy, or trying my damnedest to pull of a series of complicated barre chords (yeah, that's right), I'm still willing to pause and give her the affection she deserves.

Typically, when I'm at the computer, she'll jump into my lap. If I'm on the couch using a laptop, she'll walk across my lap several times (taking laps across my lap, as it were). When I'm playing guitar, which she apparently realizes requires more mental focus than the computer, she's even more aggressive, propping herself up on my shoulder, mewing plaintively, and biting my elbow. It could be, of course, that she just hates my guitar-playing (or she's worried that my ham-handed plucking is a prelude to another embarrassing YouTube appearance).

But the best part of all this is her reaction when I actually give in to her demands. Almost inevitably, she hops off my lap as soon as I start petting her. If I pick her up she braces her paws against my chin, literally pushing me away. Everything about her conduct screams "I love you, don't touch me."

Pepe, of course, being a big, dumb, simple male, does not exhibit these complex social behaviors. Usually when I get home, after he's been fed, all he wants to do is rassle until he gets tired and falls asleep.

Cats. Seriously.

UPDATE: No sooner did I post this did Ruby appear behind me meowing and demanding some lap time.

I am now a citizen of the Republic of Ireland. Well, to be precise, I became an Irish citizen on February 11, 2008 (or "11 February 2008," as they say in Ireland), according to the handwritten certificate I received today that's apparently an official and very, very important document. I was able to obtain this citizenship by virtue of the fact that my grandmother was born in Ireland, and as a reward for my dogged persistence in the herculean task of gathering all the necessary paperwork and documentation.

I'm also still a U.S. citizen. My citizenship, much like a photon, has an undeniable degree of duality. I shall behave as an American when it suits me, and as a filthy Irishman when circumstances warrant. I believe my newfound citizenship entitles me to double my current beer intake and cheat on my wife. I will also require a daily serving of sweet brown bread lest I fall victim to a debilitating wheat deficiency.

The next step will be to apply for an Irish passport, which will take another needlessly long amount of time (the citizenship application took about thirteen months to process). Once I have my passport I can go anywhere in the European Union. At that point, I will move to Eastern Europe, grow a mustache, change my name to Yngve, and disappear forever.

Erin Go Bragh!

It was written in the 1960s by Burt Bacharach. And performed by a transvestite:

This is like the time I found out that the Bangles weren't the first to record "Hazy Shade of Winter."

Thanks to Jed and his GChat message for this info.

That screaming you hear is the sound of an entire hemisphere without Blackberry service.

This could get ugly.

One of the more impressive things about Lost, and something that can be difficult to explain to people who don't watch the show, is the fact that the writers manage to add new characters every season despite the fact that the show is about a bunch of people stranded on an island. Two episodes into season four, we already have five new characters to deal with. Since this might be confusing, I've put together the following handy guide, which summarizes the traits of each new character in relation to characters from the Disney cartoon series TaleSpin, which I'm sure we all remember very well.

Frank Lapidus / Baloo Bear
Frank Lapidus is a former commercial airline pilot who later became a slovenly pilot-for-hire. Baloo once owned an air cargo company, but later went to work as a slovenly pilot-for-hire. Both pilots appear rough around the edges, operate out of idyllic locales (the Bahamas in Lapidus' case and Cape Suzette in Baloo's case), and find themselves in the midst of unexpected adventures involving an island -- Baloo often visits Louie's island, and Lapidus will spend season four getting into trouble on The Island until he gets killed (that's a prediction, not a spoiler).

Daniel Faraday / Wildcat
Faraday is a physicist (named after Michael Faraday), and Wildcat is a mechanic, the two fields being related enough for the purposes of this exercise. Both are lovable, bewildered, somewhat bumbling, and speak with affected mannerisms. Faraday's beard is reminiscent of Wildcat's over-sized chin. It would not be at all surprising to see Faraday break something in the near future.

Miles Straume / Kit Cloudkicker
Miles and Kit are both sarcastic and aggressive. Kit is a former air pirate, and Miles' career as a ghostbuster appears to be tinged with some degree of criminal activity. Miles can talk to the dead, and Kit is an orphan, meaning his parents are dead. Kit often refers to Baloo as "Papa Bear," while Miles referred to Jack as "Handsome" during their first meeting, indicating that both characters are prone to using homoerotic nicknames with other men.

Charlotte Lewis / Rebecca Cunningham
Charlotte Staples Lewis (that's C.S. Lewis, for those of you keeping score at home) and Rebecca Cunningham are both pushy, pain-in-the-ass know-it-alls that I want to punch.

Matthew Abbadon / Shere Khan
Matthew Abbadon (if that is his real name), like the tycoon tiger (tycer?) in Talespin, is a mysterious, menacing, seemingly powerful guy, who is able to push others around with reckless abandon (or abbandon, or abbadondon). It would please me to no end if Abbadon is later revealed to have a coffin-shaped desk chair, but I'm not counting on it.

Next up, I'll do my best to shoe-horn the tail section characters into the complex Darkwing Duck omniverse.

Yesterday was a big election day here in California. McCain took almost the entire donut on the Republican side, Hillary Clinton won on the democratic side despite the fact that nobody in California knows how to run an election, and the state continued its horrendous tradition of state-wide ballot initiatives that I voted No on without reading.

But most importantly, the people of the great city of Riverside, California, placed restrictions on roosters. Yep, roosters. That's what gets the voters of Riverside up in the morning.

To give you an idea of what my high school years were like, my friends and I used to go to Riverside to hang out on the weekends, since the place where we actually lived was more boring. I think Riverside may have taken a hit as the teenage hangout of choice once the Ontario Mills mall opened, but that probably reversed itself once people realized that the OM mall was nothing but outlet stores and overpriced multiplexes, accessible via an elaborate freeway system that only air force navigators can understand.

The Inland Empire. Lame as all get-out.

My friend just sent me this commercial, which features her dad as the guy in the car:

In addition to the excitement of someone I know being in a commercial, I find this whole thing to be amazing. At first I thought it was a spoof commercial, given the repeated shots of the bear nuzzled face-down in the woman's cleavage in full "BBLBLBLBBLBLBLBLBLLLL" position. But apparently it's legit.

I also love how the only guy in the commercial cites the fact that the Tiddy Bear got his wife to shut up as the product's chief virtue. Getting one for himself was an afterthought.