Santa clause multiplied by i

Other then my awesome new washer and dryer, there isn't a whole lot of news out here. But I did want to share something with you all: Bo Burnham. Not only does he have the coolest first name ever (even if he spells it wrong), he is damn funny. So take 4 minutes, watch this video. You will be glad you did. Be warned, it is musical comedy.

Aging

I am only 27 years old. But I don't feel so young today. 

Last weekend our dryer died. It was clearly old. Older than Sam or I in fact. So last week we spent a couple of evening shopping for replacement. We were confronted by a fairly common and obvious problem. With the dryer dead, could the washer be far behind? It was clearly of the same vintage as the dryer. Wouldn't it make sense to replace them both now? So we shopped not just for a dryer, but for a good deal on a washer/dryer set. In the end we choose to spend extra money and purchase high-efficiency front loading units. They arrived today. And they made me feel old. Not in their newness, or moderness. Not even for the fact that I spent a large sum of money on appliances. But for the way I looked forward to their arrival for the last couple of days. And the excitement I felt in starting the first load. I don't know exactly when it happened, but I have become... domesticated. The urge to go out drinking and get a tatoo is so strong... but it is almost time to move the clothes to the dryer.

Authors Note: I know I was never the most exciting person, but I didn't think I would be this old at 27...

Poor Sierpinski

The last few days have been a bit of a roller-coaster. On Friday morning one of our two cats failed to show up for her usual snuggle time with Sam. This is uncommon, but not unheard of. Around 9:00 am Sam started looking for Sierpinski (the black and white one) only to find her hiding under my dresser. Over the course of the morning it became clear that something was wrong. Eventually she came out from under the dresser and Sam was able to see that she had a hard time moving her hind legs. By some confluence of luck Sam went outside and found the cat's collar in the street smashed; it had clearly been run over by a car. This led to the conclusion that the cat had also been hit.

As I am sure you can imagine, Sam and I were expecting dire news from the veterinarian once it was clear what had happened. Luckily most vets (and ours is no exception) are good at making time in situations like this. The initial report was shockingly good. It seemed as though Sierpi had dislocated her hip, but there didn't seem to be any broken bones or internal damage. Fantastic news!

With that good news in hand and a sore kitty at home Sam and I went out to see Watchmen and relax. Then Saturday we headed down to Rockaway to help my folks with a little project on their beach house (soon to just be their house...). When we got back there was very unpleasant news in the form of blood spots on the bedroom carpet. Not being able to tell where they came from we quickly isolated Sierpi in the bathroom. Paying attention to her, it seemed that the blood was coming from a small wound near her butt. We decided to leave her in the bathroom so she couldn't run or jump and let the wound heal.

Come the next morning it looked like the plan had worked well. There were fewer blood spots on the bath mat then there had been on the bedroom rug the night before. So I scratched her on the head and got into the shower. When I got out there appeared to be a gout of blood on the floor. I was understandably concerned. Upon closer inspection it wasn't entirely blood. It had the unmistakable odor of cat urine. I was still (understandably) concerned. But it was Sunday morning and the veterinarian was closed. There was little we could do but watch and wait.

I left for Rockaway again and left Sam behind to monitor Sierpi. But I was not hopeful. Around 3:30 that afternoon she again urinated and it was quite bloody. Yet, she didn't seem much worse for the wear. She was walking around, she wanted out of the bathroom. She ate a little and drank plenty of water. I was confused.

Come Monday morning there was no new blood on the rug. We decided to wait until she evacuated her bladder to see if she still needed to go to the vet. Despite drinking water she didn't seem to want to go. Finally after lunch, when her stomach appeared full and tender we decided she need to go in to the veterinarian again. I was expecting the worst. I had even prepared Sam for the worst.

This time we saw the cat specialist. After a brief examination she was ready with the verdict, but it wasn't as dire as I expected. Sierpinski's tail had been severed internally from the rest of her body. It was, for all intents and purposes dead. When the car hit her and (for lack of a better term) broke her tail, it also caused a problem with the nerves that control urine function. It won't be clear for 7-14 days whether normal bladder function will resume.

To conclude, for at least a week either Sam or I (mostly Sam) has to juice one of our kitties. She also has a bald butt and no tail. I know, deep down inside, that this isn't funny. But given that I was prepared for the worst, it is not not funny either. Observe:

 

Coming Attractions

So I know it has been a little while since I have dropped a post. Honestly there really hasn't been a whole lot going on to talk about. I haven't taken up a new sport/turned Canadian, or climbed a mountain, or even returned from two years abroad like many of my friends. Sam and I are just continuing our quiet but quite enjoyable time out here on the coast.

That said, I am working on (or at least thinking about) a couple of posts that I hope to have finished soon. One is (predictably) sports related, the other is (probably just as predictably) related to a recent ruling from the US Supreme Court on free speech/governmental speech issues.

I am also working on my over-use of parentheticals, but that is another topic for another day. I hope you all are well out there.