Don’t move or make a sound or I will shoot you in the face.

Friday, September 21, 2012 -- 1:37 am

The puppy is sleeping.  More importantly, she is not barking.

This has been the first evening in almost a week that I've put her in her crate and left the room without her screaming like someone's torturing her with a knife or blunt object.

Wait!  Back this train the fuck up!  So yeah, we have a little miniature schnauzer puppy now: Ezreal (the Prodigal Explorer.)  We've had her for over a month, and she's adorable.


She's grown quite a lot since these pictures -- practically double in size, and her hair has grown somewhat long and bedraggled-looking like a hobo (we're going for our first grooming appointment tomorrow.)  I should really take some more photos of her, but it never occurs to me to keep the camera on hand until after the perfect Kodak moment has already passed.  *Staples camera to her forehead*  (My head, not the puppy's.  Pft, what kind of twisted monster do you take me for?)

But yes, we are absolutely in love with 99.9% of the puppy, the lacking 0.1% on account of the tiny matter of her barking a wee bit quite often all the fracking time.  Okay, no, that's not fair.  When she's in the same room as you she actually hardly barks at all and is quite pleasant.  It's when you take a step out of the room for even just a minute and she can't follow you that she stops everything she's doing and is all "WTF WHERE ARE YOU GOING DON'T LEAVE ME I LOVE YOU OH SWEET GOD WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?" and then proceeds to go a little apeshit.  I used to think one of the most annoying sounds on the planet was the agonizingly annoying wails of a human baby crying, but I've now developed a healthy respect for the ear-splitting and mind numbing screech of a distressed three month old puppy.

We've tried all the tricks from the dog forums: putting music on when we're not at home, saving special treats and toys specifically for when we leave the house, gradually moving further and further out of the room; they all work brilliantly the first half dozen times we try them and then she adapts to our sneaky ploys like the Borg and proceeds to shatter our eardrums with her high-pitched, shrill little puppy barks and howls for the next forty-five straight minutes.


Don't read into this blog post the wrong way.  We adore Ezreal, seriously.  I feel bad that I procrastinated so long to finally write this introductory puppy post, and now it's coming off very puppy-rant-filled instead of full of gushy puppy-owning love, but we've had her long enough now that almost everyone who reads this blog has already met her anyway and knows how sweet she is and how impossible it is to not explode with rainbows and sunshine when you see her, so give me a break when I say that despite how much I love her, there are times through out the day when I sometimes want to stuff a sock in her mouth and wrap her muzzle in duct tape.  (Because if MythBusters has taught me anything, it's that duct tape is FUCKING MAGICAL.)  But obviously I don't do this, because I love our puppy, and I fear a giant strapping Humane Society officer named Bertha knocking on our door one morning and serving me a court order.

And so in lieu of socks and duct tape we will be good puppy parents and continue to do the only thing left to us, which seems to be crossing our fingers and praying that this is just a "puppy thing" and that eventually she'll grow out of it, or maybe bark so much that her voice box will finally shrivel up and collapse from overuse.

But until then, if anyone wakes the puppy up right now and destroys this rare moment of blissful peace and quiet, don't take it the wrong way when I go and stab you in the face with something sharp.

A plague of weeds upon your house!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012 -- 7:01 pm

I kind of have this thing where sometimes my skin goes all green, I rip off my clothes, and I'm overwhelmed with a sudden irrational urge to smash my fist into something.

As sexy as that sounds (and it doesn't, unless you're a giant nerd with some particularly strange fetishes) I am actually referring to the state I find myself in when after dedicating two long, gruelling hours with Husband to digging up all of the rocks from our front flower bed, pulling out all of the weeds, drenching the entire area with extra strength weed killer, laying out and pegging down a double layer of specialized weed cloth, covering that back up with rocks, and flooding the whole thing over a second time with even more weed killer -- we walk out our front door a few weeks later to once again find freaking weeds in our mother freaking flower bed again.




Seriously.  Someone tell us what we're doing wrong here.  =_=

In which I am determined to blog at least once before the end of June.

Saturday, June 30, 2012 -- 10:58 pm

Never in the entire nine years I've had this blog have I ever gone two whole months without updating until now.  Disgusting!  Shameful!  I entirely blame my lack of blogging these last two months on my severe under-estimation of the amount of time I would have to commit to my two online summer classes.  It's like I never even took a summer break from my full-time schooling.  Only these two particular classes haven't been library-related at all and have been the MOST BORING COURSES EVER.  And these textbooks. . . THEY JUST KEEP GOING.  D:}

Thankfully I just finished up the English 211 final exam (of which involved some Epic Fail that I prefer to pretend never happened) so I just have to tough out the rest of my Organizational Behaviour class until the end of July.  DID I MENTION THE DISTRESSINGLY MIND NUMBING AND NEVER ENDING TEXTBOOK READINGS?

/end bitching and moaning

I don't have a lot of new news, since it's been so long since I last posted anything and any news that was shiny and new to begin with is now old and stale.

The exception to this, of course, is the exciting decision Husband and I made this past month of buying a puppy~  A miniature schnauzer puppy, to be precise.  We've both always been interested in the miniature schnauzer breed, and we've been contemplating doing the puppy thing for a while, so after some careful sleuthing we finally put a deposit down on a newborn female schnauzer puppy from a breeder up near Drayton Valley.  *Glee!*  She was born two weeks ago, she's white and black, and is adorable.  (Okay, admittedly she looks less like a cute puppy in this photo and more like a furry sausage.  I'll make sure to post a more endearing and puppy-looking photo at the three or four week mark.)

Needless to say, we're both very excited and any moment when I haven't been doing homework I've been reading puppy books and making notes and writing lists of all the things we have to purchase/fix/discuss/decide/prepare/learn/etc in the six remaining weeks until we can bring her home~

Also, in case you hadn't heard, this happened.  (Sure, the Calgary Expo may have been months ago and considered old news -- but the great Sir Patrick Stewart himself IS NEVER OLD NEWS.)  *Nerdgasm*

Shiny April is shiny.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012 -- 11:58 pm


The past week, and today specifically, has been extra awesome:

  • I finished my last exam today, officially marking the successful end of my first year of school!  AWESOME.
  • I received my rocking new retro Batman tee from ThinkGeek today in the mail!  AWESOME.
  • I'm going to the dentist on Thursday to have a root canal done!  AWESOME.  Not awesome.  Not awesome at all.  }:[  (But don't worry, the next two items make up for any dentist-related lack of awesomeness.)
  • I got an email from Grant MacEwan saying that I'm being awarded a $1,000 scholarship for academic excellence!  AWESOME FREE MONEY IS AWESOME.
  • I also received a call from my hometown library where I currently work as a page -- and recently applied for a higher-level temp position as a library assistant -- and I got the job!  ABSOLUTELY.  100%.  AWESOME.

I realize this post has an obnoxious over abundance of all-caps, but I am of the opinion that the caps are justified in this case (except, obviously, in the instance of the root canal.)  I am also aware that for anyone reading this, the word "awesome" has most likely lost all semblance of meaning -- for that, I apologize.  I do not, however, apologize or feel shame at all for the ridiculous and incredibly undignified happy dance I'm performing in my chair right now.

Shine on, April.  Shine on.

March: In like a lamb, out like… uh, a different lamb.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012 -- 7:54 pm

Poor March, no blog post for you.

Sorry for the long absence.  I'm not what really happened to March, it sort of just slipped in and then slipped right back out again like very sneaky, early spring ninja with nothing much of note to show for it other than my SHINY NEW iMAC OMG!  Yes, for anyone who has some how missed my fangirlish squeeing last month, I finally bit the bullet and retired my faithful old 2006 computer and its perpetual spinny beach ball of doom for the newest sleek model, complete with OS X Lion *rawr*.  It's fantastic to once again be able to run more than one program at the same time without my computer sputtering and coughing and wheezing like a 102-year-old man with asthma.

*Pats computer adoringly and spoils it with treats when no one is looking -- which really consists of force feeding Ghirardelli chocolates into its super drive while making disgusting cooing noises at it, and then a month later looking perplexed and distraught when her new computer dies on her without warning and only the curious, smoking smell of burning chocolate trailing from the CD slot.*

So April is here and with it promises a month full of exciting shinies~  Not only does it herald:

  1. the end of my first year of school (huzzuh!  Rejoice!  I get my life back!  ...Or at least I do for a couple of weeks before I start my two online spring classes... =_=;)
  2. my birthday (once again I am at a complete loss with remembering how old I'm turning unless I take the time to actually do the math, so I'm just going to refer to it as my 20-something birthday)

but it also marks...

  1. the start of the second season of Game of Thrones!  *Squee squee squee!*  I MUST FIND A TEAM TYRION SHIRT.
  2. the premiere of the new Avatar series, Legend of Korra!  *Even more fangirly squee-age!*
  3. the official (and long-awaited) Guild Wars 2 pre-order event (which just happens to fall on the same day as my birthday.  You can bet that the avid gamers in my life are far more excited for April 10th to arrive for this reason alone than they are for my birthday.)

And oh, I'm also going on a fabulous road trip this month to the Calgary Comic & Entertainment Expo!  Oh yeah, and did I mention that James Marsters and Patrick Stewart are going to be there?  And Stan Lee?  And Adam West?  And Wil Wheaton?  And hey, the rest of the entire Star Trek: Generations main cast (which conveniently is also half of the cast from Disney's Gargoyles, which I'm an even bigger fan of than Star Trek.)  This is going to be fabulously NERD-TACULAR.  :B

While we're down there we're going to visit the Calgary Zoo too, which I'm also excited about because I've heard it's awesome and I've never had the chance to go.  It seems like every time anyone I know plans a Calgary Zoo day trip, I'm always left behind.  (This makes Brenna a sad panda. A sad, adorable RED PANDA which I will see AT THE ZOO.)


Also, for anyone who's the least bit interested, I've added a new Twitter account (in addition to my personal one) that will be mostly centered around library and book/reading-related stuff that I find around the web and think is interesting.  I've set up an adjoining Tumblr account along the same theme.  FOLLOW ME AND LEARN LIBRARY-RELATED THINGS.  Or just laugh at amusing items like this.  That's cool too.

A most cuddleable psychopath.

Monday, February 13, 2012 -- 8:26 pm

Sometimes I have crazy, fucked up dreams.  Sometimes they are scary (being stalked by dinosaurs or chased cross country by creepy zombie bears,) sometimes they are awesome (dating a very charming, dancing-loving Sean Bean,) and sometimes they're just plain weird.  I try to post about any of my more particularly memorable dreams, because I have a sad tendency to immediately forget most of my dreams when I wake up and I really think some of them need to be immortalized in writing somewhere.  Other times though, even after waking my dreams remain very vivid, and I can recall with perfect clarity the crackfest that is my sleeping mind.

What follows is a dream I had a couple of weeks ago, co-starring my sister and a certain clinically insane Batman villain.

Okay, so my sister and I are highly skilled, top secret agents for some random, un-specified government organization.  I know we were highly skilled and top secret because we were both wearing snazzy black suits and sunglasses, and everyone knows that's the mark of a very highly skilled and top secret agents.  Unfortunately, I don't think we had any sort of top secret code names, so for the purposes of this blog post I will call us Agent Chelle and Agent Brenna.

So we're given the very dangerous but important assignment of infiltrating the hideout of the infamous Joker, the clown prince of crime, though for what purposes I couldn't tell you.  I remember there being a distinct air of anxiety surrounding our mission, due to not only the common sense knowledge that getting on the bad side of the Joker in any way is extremely hazardous for your health, but also the extra caution and care needed on our parts to ensure that Agent Chelle was never spotted by J or his goons or else he'd recognize her (for reasons unknown to me -- my dream self is obviously not high enough in the secret dream agent pecking order for the people in charge to tell me anything.)  In any event, we were dropped off in the middle of a suburban street, and due to our extra caution to remain hidden we spent a lot of time hiding behind giant piles of plowed snow along the side of the road.  I don't believe either of us were wearing sensible enough shoes to be doing so, either.

So anyway, in that unexplainably convenient way dreams have of moving you seamlessly from one scene to another, we magically go from snow dune diving outside to suddenly successfully having snuck into the Joker's factory-type lair -- we also seem to have superb timing, as Mr. J is just arriving back from some nefarious criminal doings.  We're hiding around the corner of a wall as he walks in, flanked with henchmen, but (here comes the plot twist!) for some reason beyond my understanding (probably because my brain is on crack... or in the throes of crack withdrawal... I'm not sure which) the Joker who walks into the room is in fact a Joker-shaped teddy bear.  He's two feet tall, brown, fluffy, and bear-shaped, only he's got the Joker's creepy grin and is wearing his trademark purple suit.  (The closest comparison I can make it to think of Lotso from Toy Story 3, but a much snappier dresser and about a hundred times more psychotic.)  But of course, being a dream, this all seems completely normal and comes to no surprise to either of us.

We watch unseen as Joker-teddy's goons lift him up to sit on this disturbingly violent looking spike-covered chair, and then they hoist the chair up like a tiny elevator to the floor above; all the while Joker-teddy is very angry and complaining that he needs to change his clothes because his suit got all wet.  I don't remember how we end up getting to the upstairs floor of the factory without being seen (though I'm confident it involved some very clever and tech gadgety-filled 007 hijinks on our part), but magically we do, and as we're sneaking around we're confronted by Joker-teddy henchmen.  GASP!  OH NOES!  CUE EPIC BRAWL MUSIC?  No, not at all, actually.  Instead of bashing our Secret Agenty faces in with lead pipes and brass knuckles, these poor goons catch us sneaking around in their hideout and their first priority is cajoling us into helping them pick out a new outfit for Joker-teddy to wear.

And so with that, we are escorted to another room where we proceed to shift through piles of tiny sets of jeans, leather pants, dress shirts, and fuzzy sweaters, trying to find something Joker-teddy would like to wear.  Selection is crucial, since presenting a crazy homicidal clown with the wrong ensemble will end with him becoming cranky and most likely shooting all of us in the face, so it goes without saying we were all feeling a little pressure at that point.

While we continue to argue amongst ourselves about which outfit would be best, I remember asking a goon if they had any nice teddy-sized dress slacks available (since we all know Joker-teddy does not typically wear jeans,) and then remarking to Agent Chelle about how badly I wished we had brought all of the Cabbage Patch Kids clothes along with us that we used to use to dress up our toys in when we were kids, because I was so sure we could have found something suitable in there.  The most amusing aspect of this thought process was me very clearly thinking to myself how, in particular, I wish we'd brought along a specific dress we used to put on one of my stuffed toys; it was red with little white flowers on it (and to be honest it was, in fact, an apron and not a dress at all, as it tied around the neck and waist but had no back to hide my doll's shame at all.)  However, despite that, I remember thinking perfectly rationally, "Yes, of course, that would be the most sensible choice."

Unfortunately, I woke up at that point and was never able to find out which outfit we ended up choosing and nervously presenting to the psychotic plush teddy bear in the next room.  Kind of disappointing, actually.  I would have liked my dream self to make an emergency call on my secret agent shoe phone (because all secret agents have shoe phones) and request HQ to chopper in the garbage bag of Cabbage Patch Clothes sitting down in my basement storage room.  I probably would have pulled rank somewhere during the conversation and started shouting at my superior on the other end of the phone and calling him a maggot, and how GOD DAMN IT, MAN, THE WORLD DEPENDS ON YOU GETTING US THAT FLOWERY APRON.

It was one of those absurd dreams where I woke up and just laid there giggling and smiling idiotically to myself.  Sometimes those are the best kind.