I finally got the Captain a new collar. This one's traffic-reflective so he'll be more visible at night. I also got him a proper harness for bike-runs, and am going to attach reflective tape to it as well. Then I'll go to the hardware store this week and buy tiny reflectors and make buttons out of them, which I'll wear on the back of my biking jacket. I already have a flasher on my bike and a blinking pendant shaped like a bone for the Captain, but you can never be too visible.
The bike's brakes were getting loose so I took it to the shop where I got it. The owner came out, looked it over and told me to bring it in anytime for a full going-over with adjustments, because some of the factory settings aren't quite to his liking. He showed me how to tighten the handbrake in the meantime (modern bikes have such weird interfaces! I didn't need a screwdriver) and when I asked how much for the tune-up, he said they wouldn't charge a thing. Fucking amazing. I'll be getting the handlebars adjusted if there's any more wiggle room, and if not, I'll need to buy a longer set so I can sit completely upright to save my neck and wrists. Then I'll buy a rearview mirror and get it installed on the handlebars. It's good times.
Still working on the comic, still dragging ass. I haven't gotten much sleep lately so I'm slow and easily bored. Today was therapy and we had a really long, really thought-provoking session talking about codependency and boundaries. Also about my need to get my life started and gain some independence (especially financially) so I can feel like more of an adult.
It's really weird climbing out of the pit I'm in. And not all that painful, at least not yet. We're doing good work. Starting to establish a rapport. I guess I got lucky on that one--no one I know has ever liked their first therapist, and I adore mine.
I've been listening to the Adam Carolla podcast since he lost his morning show and decided to continue doing the job for free out of his basement. He's such a belligerent dick, but I love him. I miss the old Loveline, before Scrappy Doo (aka Stryker) took over and David Allen Grier was barred from returning as a guest. I don't agree with all of the Loveline advice (they are completely ignorant and judgmental about gender dysphoria, for example) but most of the time it's dead-on. I've been listening to the archive of 2004 for the past month or so while I play One Piece and collect my non-thinks.
Spring is coming. I need to get out more, and take a bunch of photos with this awesome camera before everything turns soggy and brown.
Pictures of snowman sex acts to follow.
Showing posts with label boring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boring. Show all posts
March 3, 2009
March 1, 2009
Luka's Adventures in Laundry and Dog Torture
Poor doggy. It's shocky-collar retraining time, and that is not a good time to be a Captain.
The last time I made him wear the collar was in the fall because I noticed him starting to dare the borders of the kitchen and found a few scattered wrappers around the trash can after leaving him alone. After that, the UFO unit that sends the signal to beep the collar stopped working properly.
He's been getting more and more bold regarding the no-fly zone for about a month, and today he got into the kitchen and cleaned out the cat food twice. That was that--I took the UFO apart with a screwdriver and messed with the connections until I got it to work again. He heard the faint test-beeps from out in the hallway, and I could hear him bolting for the stairs. So much for the element of surprise.
Unfortunately, dogs are fairly skilled at pattern recognition, so he has figured out that the collar is involved with the terrible torment that befalls him when he trespasses. It takes a while to de-condition himself, but I don't want him to figure out that taking the collar off means party time. Two ways around this: make sure there is a beep of punishment when he's not wearing the collar at certain points, and leave the collar on but turn off the power so that it doesn't warn him. Either way he'll stop associating the beep with the collar, resulting in a win condition for me.
The prongs shouldn't be in constant contact with his skin because it could cause pressure sores, so to take the latter approach I'll need to wrap the collar with something soft and comfortable. The former approach will require me to catch him in the act while I'm holding the collar (or a tape player with the collar noise recorded onto it).
In the end, it's worth it. The kitchen border keeps Maya-cat safe in her basement domain (she is bitterly racist against all Captain-dogs) and the Captain can't choke on anything he scavenges from the counters or the trash with his ever-so-industrious nose for mischief.
It's a work in progress, this cohabitation with other life forms. At least he's being really nice to Molly-cat. She has no fear of him whatsoever. I've seen her taunt the poor fellow into a barking frenzy from her comfy perch just over the blue do-not-cross line. Today I was petting her with one hand and feeding the Captain snacks with the other, and she was actually purring in between those tiny little grunts that mean Molly is being shown affection. Strange girl, that one.
In non-dog news, the dryer was not working the other day, so I had three loads of wet laundry to deal with. I found a roll of twine and made a quickie clothesline all over the basement by crisscrossing all the support beams. The towels ended up really stiff and still had pet hair on them, but my clothes are plenty soft enough to wear and hanging it all up wasn't all that difficult. I decided to try and make a habit of it.
So I bought 60 feet of clothesline for $2 at Walgreens, cut it into several lengths, and did the thing properly. On laundry day it's going to be like hiking through the jungle down there, only instead of bats and biter-snakes, you'll get attacked by soggy skivvies. The basement is so arid that things dry fast. I'll still need to tumble the towels a bit to remove the pet hair and soften them up a bit, but that's no problem.
(Blame Netflix for sending me An Inconvenient Truth when I was feeling particularly hippy-minded. I couldn't even finish it so I just swore to be less wasteful and sent the DVD back.)
Last thing I'll need to do is make sure I strung the lines high enough to avoid beheading anyone in the dark. Seebs is the tallest one here so I'll test it out on him first.
The last time I made him wear the collar was in the fall because I noticed him starting to dare the borders of the kitchen and found a few scattered wrappers around the trash can after leaving him alone. After that, the UFO unit that sends the signal to beep the collar stopped working properly.
He's been getting more and more bold regarding the no-fly zone for about a month, and today he got into the kitchen and cleaned out the cat food twice. That was that--I took the UFO apart with a screwdriver and messed with the connections until I got it to work again. He heard the faint test-beeps from out in the hallway, and I could hear him bolting for the stairs. So much for the element of surprise.
Unfortunately, dogs are fairly skilled at pattern recognition, so he has figured out that the collar is involved with the terrible torment that befalls him when he trespasses. It takes a while to de-condition himself, but I don't want him to figure out that taking the collar off means party time. Two ways around this: make sure there is a beep of punishment when he's not wearing the collar at certain points, and leave the collar on but turn off the power so that it doesn't warn him. Either way he'll stop associating the beep with the collar, resulting in a win condition for me.
The prongs shouldn't be in constant contact with his skin because it could cause pressure sores, so to take the latter approach I'll need to wrap the collar with something soft and comfortable. The former approach will require me to catch him in the act while I'm holding the collar (or a tape player with the collar noise recorded onto it).
In the end, it's worth it. The kitchen border keeps Maya-cat safe in her basement domain (she is bitterly racist against all Captain-dogs) and the Captain can't choke on anything he scavenges from the counters or the trash with his ever-so-industrious nose for mischief.
It's a work in progress, this cohabitation with other life forms. At least he's being really nice to Molly-cat. She has no fear of him whatsoever. I've seen her taunt the poor fellow into a barking frenzy from her comfy perch just over the blue do-not-cross line. Today I was petting her with one hand and feeding the Captain snacks with the other, and she was actually purring in between those tiny little grunts that mean Molly is being shown affection. Strange girl, that one.
In non-dog news, the dryer was not working the other day, so I had three loads of wet laundry to deal with. I found a roll of twine and made a quickie clothesline all over the basement by crisscrossing all the support beams. The towels ended up really stiff and still had pet hair on them, but my clothes are plenty soft enough to wear and hanging it all up wasn't all that difficult. I decided to try and make a habit of it.
So I bought 60 feet of clothesline for $2 at Walgreens, cut it into several lengths, and did the thing properly. On laundry day it's going to be like hiking through the jungle down there, only instead of bats and biter-snakes, you'll get attacked by soggy skivvies. The basement is so arid that things dry fast. I'll still need to tumble the towels a bit to remove the pet hair and soften them up a bit, but that's no problem.
(Blame Netflix for sending me An Inconvenient Truth when I was feeling particularly hippy-minded. I couldn't even finish it so I just swore to be less wasteful and sent the DVD back.)
Last thing I'll need to do is make sure I strung the lines high enough to avoid beheading anyone in the dark. Seebs is the tallest one here so I'll test it out on him first.
December 11, 2008
More Medical Fun
The other day I spent 3 hours driving around in blowing snow with maybe 200 feet of visibility in order to find the dentist who takes Medicaid. Mapquest fucked me right in the sigmoid colon and then turned around and didn't pay. You know how sometimes numbered streets also have names? Yeah. They gave the street's name but not its number, and the signs showed the number but not the name. Also, "Highway 5" is not the same thing as "County Road 5" except that it actually is.
Also, going 35 on the interstate is for stupids.
At the end of it all, I got my teeth cleaned and the dentist told me I need fillings. Either I developed three cavities in six months or the last guy missed them on my previous visit. Ah well, I can always use more needles in my gums.
Then today I saw the podiatrist about my arch pain and toe numbness when walking. He said I have good arches but they don't have much support, and slapped some wet plaster socks on my feet to make orthotic inserts. They'll come in the mail next week and then I have to break them in over a week or so. It sounds a bit draconian but whatevs, as long as I can look forward to someday being able to jog and walk without my shins catching fire I'll be a happy guy and suffer minor annoyances.
Next week I see a nurse-practitioner who has allergies training about my eye. I've been getting a firespot in the exact same place every other day for a week or more. Feels like grit is caught under the lid, but there isn't anything there. What really causes the sensation is chemosis--the conjunctiva swelling up in a bright red lump like an itchy, burning nipple on my freakin' eyeball. No idea what causes it but I have had it happen before when I lived in my sister's backyard party house. Dusty place, maybe that's the connection? We shall see.
I inked the pages today and went on to pencil another one. Why not? I'm slacking at the computer so I might as well catch up with pen and paper. I don't like how the art came out (forced my way through a block and it shows) but probably a bit of digital touching up will at least bring it up to standards. I can't worry too much about it because in the end it's only 2 out of 700+ pages, which brings the grand total of pages I can't stand to admit to drawing in my comic to 4. I'm a picky motherfucker, so that's actually not a bad track record at all.
The Zoloft seems to make me sleepy, but I need extra rest anyway. This cold is still kicking my ass. I've gone into the "dry hacking" phase, and it's so uncomfortable I've begun to almost long for those long nights where I would wake up with my entire body cocooned beneath a brittle crust of leaking snot. Fuck, but that's grim.
Also, going 35 on the interstate is for stupids.
At the end of it all, I got my teeth cleaned and the dentist told me I need fillings. Either I developed three cavities in six months or the last guy missed them on my previous visit. Ah well, I can always use more needles in my gums.
Then today I saw the podiatrist about my arch pain and toe numbness when walking. He said I have good arches but they don't have much support, and slapped some wet plaster socks on my feet to make orthotic inserts. They'll come in the mail next week and then I have to break them in over a week or so. It sounds a bit draconian but whatevs, as long as I can look forward to someday being able to jog and walk without my shins catching fire I'll be a happy guy and suffer minor annoyances.
Next week I see a nurse-practitioner who has allergies training about my eye. I've been getting a firespot in the exact same place every other day for a week or more. Feels like grit is caught under the lid, but there isn't anything there. What really causes the sensation is chemosis--the conjunctiva swelling up in a bright red lump like an itchy, burning nipple on my freakin' eyeball. No idea what causes it but I have had it happen before when I lived in my sister's backyard party house. Dusty place, maybe that's the connection? We shall see.
I inked the pages today and went on to pencil another one. Why not? I'm slacking at the computer so I might as well catch up with pen and paper. I don't like how the art came out (forced my way through a block and it shows) but probably a bit of digital touching up will at least bring it up to standards. I can't worry too much about it because in the end it's only 2 out of 700+ pages, which brings the grand total of pages I can't stand to admit to drawing in my comic to 4. I'm a picky motherfucker, so that's actually not a bad track record at all.
The Zoloft seems to make me sleepy, but I need extra rest anyway. This cold is still kicking my ass. I've gone into the "dry hacking" phase, and it's so uncomfortable I've begun to almost long for those long nights where I would wake up with my entire body cocooned beneath a brittle crust of leaking snot. Fuck, but that's grim.
November 30, 2008
Six Things
1. Gosh, wouldn't it be nice if somebody just stapled Jenny McCarthy to a ceiling somewhere and left her? It would be terrible if she starved to death up there, yeah, but... no, wait. Actually I'm pretty okay with that.
2. I played too fucking much Mario Kart today. I see blue shells when I close my eyes. Why, why did I wake up so utterly spazzy? I fucked off and played video games all day despite my total commitment to getting the comic done. It can't have anything to do with the 13-hour holiday get-together shopping/more shopping/dishes/cleaning/entertaining/table breakdown/dishes again/cleaning again marathon yesterday, could it?
3. On second thought, maybe I should go play some more Mario Kart.
4. Took dog for bike run in the sleet, which changed to flurries as we returned home. An hour later the light outside changed and I went to look out a window, and sure enough--snow! My brakes were not happy with the wet. Time to get them adjusted again.
5. Blew my sleep schedule again. I blame the 5 hour nap after I chowed down on turkey leftovers in a bid to help clear the fridge. Tryptophan, take me away!
6. Scribbling with Chapstick on the backs of my dry cracked hands, rubbing it in, then wiping it all off with a towel has completely stopped the itching, and the gaping wounds have begun to scab over. Plus, waterproof hands.
2. I played too fucking much Mario Kart today. I see blue shells when I close my eyes. Why, why did I wake up so utterly spazzy? I fucked off and played video games all day despite my total commitment to getting the comic done. It can't have anything to do with the 13-hour holiday get-together shopping/more shopping/dishes/cleaning/entertaining/table breakdown/dishes again/cleaning again marathon yesterday, could it?
3. On second thought, maybe I should go play some more Mario Kart.
4. Took dog for bike run in the sleet, which changed to flurries as we returned home. An hour later the light outside changed and I went to look out a window, and sure enough--snow! My brakes were not happy with the wet. Time to get them adjusted again.
5. Blew my sleep schedule again. I blame the 5 hour nap after I chowed down on turkey leftovers in a bid to help clear the fridge. Tryptophan, take me away!
6. Scribbling with Chapstick on the backs of my dry cracked hands, rubbing it in, then wiping it all off with a towel has completely stopped the itching, and the gaping wounds have begun to scab over. Plus, waterproof hands.
October 5, 2007
Adventures In Not Doing All That Much
The showers here are incredible. Gone is the piss-trickle of yesterfaucet--our new place has serious water pressure so I don't end up standing under the tap for eight hours just trying to wash the shampoo out of my hair. It's like standing under a waterfall. Also, the water gets hotter. I don't think I've had this much fun showering since the last time I--ah, but that would be telling.
The only problem is that my room is a perfect square with two unblockable doors on two opposite walls and a radiator and window on the third. This leaves one wall mostly free for bed installation, but my art and computer desks block part of that wall. If it comes to a choice, I'd rather move the art desk and have a proper bed. I've been sleeping on a pokey mattress on a rickety bunk bed for like two years and I'm ready to move on to something that won't stab me in the ass or squeak loudly when I turn over.
I've been pondering the idea of getting a bean bag that converts to a bed. Or a day-bed. Or a Japanese style futon. Hmm.
Today the Captain met a bunch of new dogs at the park. A very large, very dominant black lab pushed him around until he started showing teeth and growling, but they eventually got distracted by somebody who was throwing tennis balls and it became a sort of free-for-all dog race. The Captain wallowed in a mudpit for a little while, and as the other owners tried to discourage their own animals from imitating him, I realized that I'm the pet-owner equivalent of the paren of THAT kid. You know, the one who comes into kindergarten every morning smelling like he has ferrets stuffed in his pants.
We found a gate that opened on the river for dogs who like to play in water, so I was able to encourage the little bastard to go rinse off all the mud eventually. It took him hours to dry off, but he was mellow and happy. Come to think of it, he hasn't shredded anything since I first took him there... hmm.
Knee feeling lots better. I can manage the walk to the park and back without it exploding, and going up the stairs only twinged a bit. As soon as the pain is gone, I'm going to go back to the gym. I'm feeling kinda wooden and my energy level's gone down a bit.
Major goals for the rest of the fall: get some invisible fencing so I can leave Stupid outside to play more often instead of putting him on a tether, get a new curtain that is not pink, find a bed, and install shelves in the closet outside my room so I can put my clothes away.
...Wow, this post was dull. I promise I'm doing awesome and exciting things with my days, I just haven't felt like blogging about them. I did a pic last night, though, just messing with art styles:
Aight. Back to inking.
The only problem is that my room is a perfect square with two unblockable doors on two opposite walls and a radiator and window on the third. This leaves one wall mostly free for bed installation, but my art and computer desks block part of that wall. If it comes to a choice, I'd rather move the art desk and have a proper bed. I've been sleeping on a pokey mattress on a rickety bunk bed for like two years and I'm ready to move on to something that won't stab me in the ass or squeak loudly when I turn over.
I've been pondering the idea of getting a bean bag that converts to a bed. Or a day-bed. Or a Japanese style futon. Hmm.
Today the Captain met a bunch of new dogs at the park. A very large, very dominant black lab pushed him around until he started showing teeth and growling, but they eventually got distracted by somebody who was throwing tennis balls and it became a sort of free-for-all dog race. The Captain wallowed in a mudpit for a little while, and as the other owners tried to discourage their own animals from imitating him, I realized that I'm the pet-owner equivalent of the paren of THAT kid. You know, the one who comes into kindergarten every morning smelling like he has ferrets stuffed in his pants.
We found a gate that opened on the river for dogs who like to play in water, so I was able to encourage the little bastard to go rinse off all the mud eventually. It took him hours to dry off, but he was mellow and happy. Come to think of it, he hasn't shredded anything since I first took him there... hmm.
Knee feeling lots better. I can manage the walk to the park and back without it exploding, and going up the stairs only twinged a bit. As soon as the pain is gone, I'm going to go back to the gym. I'm feeling kinda wooden and my energy level's gone down a bit.
Major goals for the rest of the fall: get some invisible fencing so I can leave Stupid outside to play more often instead of putting him on a tether, get a new curtain that is not pink, find a bed, and install shelves in the closet outside my room so I can put my clothes away.
...Wow, this post was dull. I promise I'm doing awesome and exciting things with my days, I just haven't felt like blogging about them. I did a pic last night, though, just messing with art styles:
Aight. Back to inking.
September 18, 2007
This Is A Boring Post
I just ate the most awesome sandwiches ever. Oh, it was heaven! I was bored and hungry and didn't see anything that looked good in the fridge, so I drove to Cub and splurged on lettuce, avocado, a big fat tomato, turkey, provolone, ham and a loaf of crusty deli bread.
The bread was kind of an experiment--normally I just get the sliced keeps-for-weeks kind, but I think I might be done with that now. I'm not sure if you can call bread 'juicy' but this went beyond fresh-baked tenderness and into the land of heaven and goodness.
All in all, the shopping came to like $27 bucks. Two sandwiches later, I've barely made a dent in the material supplies.
Yesterday I went to Michael's and bought new pens. I'm not that that into the idea of packing right now due to coughing my lungs out and being generally unwell, so I might as well work on the comic. I also got this weird dildo-shaped pen case to keep me from stabbing myself in the leg every time I sit down with pencils in my pocket. Duhurr.
Right now I'm reading people's war stories on the SA forums (which I finally joined) and thinking about how good life is. And it is good.
The bread was kind of an experiment--normally I just get the sliced keeps-for-weeks kind, but I think I might be done with that now. I'm not sure if you can call bread 'juicy' but this went beyond fresh-baked tenderness and into the land of heaven and goodness.
All in all, the shopping came to like $27 bucks. Two sandwiches later, I've barely made a dent in the material supplies.
Yesterday I went to Michael's and bought new pens. I'm not that that into the idea of packing right now due to coughing my lungs out and being generally unwell, so I might as well work on the comic. I also got this weird dildo-shaped pen case to keep me from stabbing myself in the leg every time I sit down with pencils in my pocket. Duhurr.
Right now I'm reading people's war stories on the SA forums (which I finally joined) and thinking about how good life is. And it is good.
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