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We wound up buying a little kitten. So, we now have five ferrets, two anoles, one hamster, and one cat. We first named him Sulfur, but we changed his name to Sid (or Cid, not quite sure which spelling we prefer just yet) because his antics remind me of the sloth from Ice Age. We've been taking our time introducing him to the ferrets. The boys (Cain and Tyreal) are the only ones that we've allowed to actually be on the floor with him, but we are still very cautious with them and will not allow the ferrets and the cat to go anywhere we cannot separate them.
Cain's Nighttime Escapade
Well, we put the ferrets back into their cage after letting them run around in their play room for a while, and then we went to bed. Around five in the morning, I got up to use the bathroom only to find it in complete shambles. The trashcan was knocked over, Sid's water bowl was knocked over, most of his food was gone, his bed was pulled out away from the wall, and his litter box was also pulled out. I blamed the cat and made a mental note to clean it up later.
I then ventured out into the living room. The light was off, which was odd because we have it set on a timer so that it'll stay on until seven in the morning. I thought maybe the bulb had blown and ignored it. There were numerous other things out of place which I'd also blamed on the cat. So, I moved on to the kitchen in search of the Tylenol. Shortly after I got to the counter, a long, fat, furry thing skittered out onto the floor, stopped, and looked at me. It took me a second to realize it was Cain, and not Sid. Then my heart stopped. I realized I hadn't heard the cat meow at all since I woke up. Normally he seeks me out and starts meowing like crazy.
I scooped Cain up, put him back in his cage, then proceeded to freak out. Where was the cat? I called for him a few times, then when he didn't come out, and I didn't hear him, I ran back to the bedroom and woke Ian up. I was starting to, irrationally, believe that Cain had killed him and was on the verge of becoming hysterical. Then finally he started to mew, and walked out from underneath the couch. x_x After much hugging of the kitty and scolding of the ferret, we started to fully inspect the damage.
Cain had to have been out of the cage for quite some time. The water he spilled had dried up. He'd pulled he light right out of the socket. He also pulled the lining right off one of the cabinets in the kitchen. The most hilarious (to us, at least) thing he'd done during his little escapade was plant two turds in the cat's litter box. x_x;;
I probably wrote more about that than I should have, but . . . eh. I have written anything in a long, long time. I want to start role playing and meeting people online again, but I'm having difficulty finding a place that suits me. I can't really role play on AOL anymore because I can't change my screen name, character I want to use is not Dierdre. I can't find a single MUD that keeps my interest. I suppose my only other options would be to find a message board or something. My problem is that I've never role played on a forum before. I suppose I'll figure something out.
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As I have told Ian, we need to start documenting this shit. Someone hit one of our windows with an egg some time between 8:00 and 9:00 pm on 5/27/05. We suspect it to be one of the kids on our street, leaving two possibilities. Either, as Ian suggested, the kids were egging houses due to graduation, or they did it because Ian told them to keep it down while they were playing football in our yard. The easiest way to determine whether it was directed entirely at us is to find out if they did it to any other houses. We took pictures of the window and all of the egg shells in the bushes around it.
We'll be keeping tabs of the date and time of everything they do from now on. I hate to have to do this, but it's starting to get to the point where it's imperative that we have proof in case this goes any further.
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I suppose I should start updating my journal again. Of course, every time I say that, I never do. Hah.
Let's see. I'm poor. Work sucks. I'm in a lot of pain, and I feel like I'm going to vomit. Yay me. My computer's busted. Ian's computer's busted. We're currently using my mom's old computer that Ian fixed. Of course, it's old and the sound's fucked up. We're still waiting for someone to have the good will to send us a copy of an XP disk so that Ian can fix our computers. (My computer stopped booting after I tried to do the whole "restore it to last back up date" thing. Ian took the hard drive out of the computer, and Compaq erased the BIOS when he did that. I don't know if he figured out what went wrong with his computer. He can't run anything but some games that he already had installed on there, i-tunes, and treepad.)
So . . . Until my computer's back up, I can't work on my comics or my new site. That painstakingly done picture of Cait is on that hard drive, so I'm hoping it's fixed soon.
Oh. We're going to see The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy on Sunday. ^_^
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Oh, and I've also found the perfect way to make sure Ian showers every night. XD
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*-* Ian has learned how to package pure ecstacy in spaghetti sauce.
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Thursday, March 3rd, 2005
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I don't know what's wrong with me. I should be happy, shouldn't I? Ian's trying to go to school so that he can get a high paying computer job. Supposedly, the worst job he could get would be paying him over 30,000 a year. So why am I so upset? Well, look at me. I'm a fucking assistant manager in a retail store. I work in a dead end job making just enough for us to scrape by on.
How can I ever be more than this? I can't pay for college. I don't even know what the hell I want out of life. I'm too soft to even quit my job, however much I want to. I feel like I've let my little window of opportunity slip by me when I moved out, and now I'm watching Ian leap off into his. I feel trapped.
Everyone's just passing me by, and again I feel like I'm being left behind . . . After he starts making 30,000 a year, will he look back at me and still care about me at all?
"I'm no man. I'm a magician with no magic, and that's no one at all." - Schmendrick, The Last Unicorn
God, I know I'm a horribly selfish bitch.
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Saturday, February 26th, 2005
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Hm. Ian's went to that free ComputerTraining.com class today, which leaves me with an hour and a half of free time. I was going to run by Acme to pick up some more NyQuil and something for Ian, but I think I'd be better off just staying home and writing a little. I might as well get as much rest as I possibly can before I have to head in to work, no?
Let's see. What has happened recently that I haven't posted? Well, we finally decided on a wedding date. The only problem is raising the money for it. Ian said that if he received any money for his birthday, he'll put it towards that, but I don't really feel comfortable with him doing it. I think he should buy something nice for himself. My parents are an option, but . . . we don't want them to plan it for us. We want to be married at the Renaissance Faire in Pennsylvania in an entirely secular 'ceremony'. More than likely, my parents and his mother would try to get us a Christian priest. (We're both atheists, and I will not have someone going on about a god we have no belief in on a day that is meant for us.) I suppose one step towards raising money would be to sell those watches on E-Bay.
We finally have our second ferret cage, so now our ferrets hang out in the living room most of the day instead sitting in that room. They seem much happier, and perhaps now that they're side by side, the two groups will get used to eachother and be able to play together. We've had one problem with the new cage. It's about the same size as the other one, but it sits a little higher and has three balconies instead of two. We originally put Diablo, Wraith, and Kali in there. Unfortunately, Diablo is some sort of strange freak super ferret and found out how to get out of the cage. We have yet to find out how the hell he did it. At first, we thought maybe we left the door open or something, and he slipped out unnoticed before we closed it. I hadn't opened the cage, though, and Ian didn't remember doing it, either. So, we set him back in the cage, gave him some food, and examined it for any large openings he could slip through. There were none. The bars are only slightly larger than the other cage, but still too small for even a ferret to slip through.
We left him in there, and went back into the room to watch a movie. Then, he managed to escape again. We finally had to switch the ferrets out. Neither Tyreal nor Cain have escaped. (Then again, Cain's morbidly obese and Tyreal has a little pot belly. Diablo's skinny again.)
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Sunday, January 30th, 2005
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o_O ::Watches Ian sandwich chocolate pudding between two large chocolate chunk cookies:: . . . Er . . .
>_> ::Waits for him to keel over::
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o_o;; . . . ::Watches Ian fall down and worship his first kielbasa sandwich:: . . . Oooookaaaay.
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Thursday, January 20th, 2005
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^_^ Ah. Snow. Ian and I went outside late last night to throw snowballs at eachother. Then I made him breakfast this morning for the first time in probably three months.
I've learned that warm breakfast for Ian = hot sex for Kat. :D
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Friday, December 10th, 2004
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Well, this week certainly hasn't been our best. My last pay check bounced, thus wreaking havoc in both my checking and savings account. I didn't realize it had bounced until we had paid for our rent and numerous other things. We went to check on our money on the 5th, and found out that we had - $201 in checking and only $38 in savings. (We had $330 in savings.) My mom had to loan us $350 so that I could get my checking out of the negative and pay for gas. My boss had to call up the company and get them to send me another check (which, hopefully, will not bounce again), and I have to take a copy of my bank statement into work today so that they can pay my overdraft charges. It's just a big mess, and I think it's going to take more than a week or two to get it completely straightened out. (Especially since the fuckers are still taking money out of my account for reasons I don't know.)
I'd explain further but I've ran out of time.
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Sunday, November 14th, 2004
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Ugh. Fuck it all. Ian didn't make spaghetti because he thought he'd accidentally put the meat in the freezer. He actually didn't. It was in the fridge, but it was still too frozen to cook. That was no biggie. We can order Papa John's, says I! Mistake. We ordered it online and used my card to do so. That was at around 10:15ish. It's now 12:15 and they're closed. Our order? It went through. We never got it. Me? I'm very hungry and I have to get up at 8 tomorrow.
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Thursday, November 11th, 2004
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Everyone we've run into today has been unbelievably nice. Why is this suprising? Most people we run into are assholes. We first went to PetKare. Well . . . to be honest there wasn't anything really noticeable about that except the jumbo rats fighting. (Ian is now intent on getting one of them due to the fact that they were all picking fights with eachother.) We just picked up some ferret food and some crickets for our anoles. We then went over to Fox Run believing we'd just go to Acme. I, however, was extremely dehydrated and have had a craving for ice cream since this morning. I saw TCBY was open. I resisted. Ian, being the loveable bastard that he is, forced me to get money out of the bank and ran over there to get me ice cream.
The open sign actually went out just as we got across the street (nearly killing ourselves in the process) and onto the sidewalk. The man who was working there let us in anyway. ^_^; Nice person number one. We got our shivers and two drinks, and I left him a $3 tip. (I was considering leaving more, but I'm probably going to need that $5 tomorrow.)
Nice person number two was the cashier in Acme. We (by we I mean mostly Ian and the cashier) had a small conversation about dogs and cats because Ian, yet again being the loveable bastard that he is, made me get a huggable lab plushie.
Nice person number three is who I'm guessing was the manager at Blockbuster for the night. He and Ian probably spent half an hour talking about Halo alone. We finally got an account there simply because I wanted to watch "What Dreams May Come" . . . and . . . Ian suddenly wanted to play Halo 2. While we were there, they got a call from a sucky customer. Heh. It was someone complaining about the popcorn and saying that they wanted a refund on it. (They replace it, but they won't give a refund.) Basically, they microwaved it wrong and, out of sheer stupidity, wanted Blockbuster to replace it instead of realizing they did something wrong. They showed up just as we were leaving. We went back in out of curiousity just to see how it would happen, but I had to go to the bathroom, and thus we couldn't stay. x_x We did find out that there was nothing wrong with the popcorn. (The other customers claimed it tasted strange. The manager-ish guy told us it tasted fine.)
Whelp. That's it for tonight.
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More on the lives of Kat and Ian :
Kat : ::Tickles Ian::
Ian : ::Convincingly pretends she hurt him::
Kat : Hey, are you all right? What's wrong?
Ian : Nothing. I'm not really hurt.
Kat : >_
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Thursday, October 28th, 2004
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Ian : "You know what's sad? When you remember to take out and defrost the chicken, but forget to defrost the eggs."
x_x The story of our life. ::Cry::
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Wednesday, October 27th, 2004
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Life is pretty eventful right now, I suppose. For one, our heater really sucks. It just broke for the third time, and we've already spent close to $500 on it. Pah. My boss's brother does AC and heating and he told us that he would be able to look at it for us for a lot cheaper than Hillside (who we believe to be ripping us off). We think we know what the problem is, but we're not sure what to do about it. (Apparently there's sludge in the bottom of the oil tank. Unfortunately for us, the oil tank is underground. We'd have to dig it up. They're also expensive.)
The friggin' hospital just sent us a bill for $59. When Ian was working at Radio Shack, he hit his head over at the Eckerds next door while trying to get a Mountain Dew from a bin set up against an end cap. He felt really dizzy, and when it didn't go away after a few hours, he asked some cops (who were outside dealing with a robbery at the Subway) to call an ambulance for him. So, he went to the hospital. I got a call from his co-worker and completely freaked out because I thought something was seriously wrong with him. I went to the hospital, and we basically just sat around in the hallway for a while as he filled me in on what happened. Eckerds said they would pay for it, so everything seemed to be okay. Then, a lady came up to get his information and handed him a form. Since he has no health insurance, he had to sign the form stating that he would be liable for the bill. Ian refused to sign this because he really didn't have any proof that Eckerds would pay the bill. (We later found out that they really wouldn't have. They would only pay for it if Ian was really injured, and we had medical papers to prove this. If there wasn't anything wrong, they wouldn't pay for it.) We left. He didn't see anyone. No one looked at him. We just sat in the hallway for a little while . . . and they want us to pay $59 for that. Bull. Shit. We'll probably drop by tomorrow to straighten this out.
We had a pretty bad experience at Acme yesterday. (For those of you who do not live in Pennsylvania or Delaware, Acme is a chain grocery store here.) It really had nothing to do with the cashiers. It had everything to do with the guy behind us in line. Ian starts putting our stuff onto the belt . . . The guy behind us does the same. What's wrong with this? We had a lot of stuff, and Ian wasn't anywhere near finished unloading our cart. The belts also move forward. Ian quickly put one of those little bar things between that guy's stuff and ours, and made a comment to the guy that we'd need some more space because we weren't done yet. (He said this nicely.) The belt moves forward, giving us even less space and the guy behind us is still throwing stuff on it. Luckily for us, the cashier saw what was going on and turned the belt off. Yay. So, Ian gets everything out of the cart, the cashier rings everything up, and he goes to help bag everything. I move forward in line with the cart to get my wallet from Ian. The guy behind us fucking follows me, nearly pushing me entirely out of the line. Had I not stopped, I wouldn't have even been able to reach the debit machine. Jerk.
<_< Ian bought me flowers and kit kat pieces, so I'm not too upset about it.
Pizza Hut sucks. Bleh. Both times we've eaten it, it made us both sick. On top of that, the service received the last time really, really sucked. I understand they were busy, but damn. x_x They didn't show us to our table . . . They just kinda' pointed and said, "Hey, your table is back there." They didn't give us any plates. They also forgot to bring us sauce after they said they would. I didn't quite agree that we shouldn't have given the waitress a tip, but Ian insisted that they should get tips on the kind of service we receive. Well . . . It's Pat's for us, now.
We're going to a Hallowe'en party on Saturday. My boss invited us. I want to go simply because I've never been to a party outside the ones my aunts and uncles throw. (Those normally suck.) I also want to do something with Ian. I think he's mostly skeptical of it because he and my boss didn't get along very well when he worked for him, but my boss said that we're both welcome to come.
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Saturday, October 23rd, 2004
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The philosophy of life from girl scouts: Feel good about yourself and sell cookies.
Ian : "I'd rather feel good about the one thing I can do, then feel bad about the many things I could do. Besides, I like cookies."
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Saturday, October 16th, 2004
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Well, it seems that for some strange reason Ian's AOL account is still up. We finally got our phone turned on. Unfortunately, we don't have long distance on it so . . . anyone who wants to talk to us over the phone has to call us. Living with Ian feels pretty natural, now. It seems like we've been living here for well over three months, though it's been just that. Sometimes I feel like I'll wake up one morning, and he won't be there. I'll be in my old room, he'll be back in Alabama waiting for me on the computer.
We're actually doing pretty well for ourselves, now. I was recently promoted to a salary paid assistant manager. (You know . . . instead of one paid by the hour.) I love not having to clock in or out. Because of this, I can leave early if I really need to and it won't affect my pay at all. (So long as my manager is there. Heh.) The store, as usual, is the very pit of drama. I was not kidding when I told Ian that the real way the store could make money is if it became a reality show. We just nailed an employee for theft not too long ago. The employee is a vagabond, meaning he has no real home and has to keep moving from one family to another. This could possibly make you feel sorry for him, and it might make you understand why he would steal. I don't. He and his friends blew all of their money away on expensive hotels and alcohol. They never tried to save any of that money. Now, his friends worked with us, too. They both quit. The first one quit because she was caught under-ringing a pair of jeans (and lied saying that she didn't know the people she sold them to). The second one quit because he didn't have his badge, and the manager told him he had to make sure he had it. (Please note that the manager was in no way being rude to him. I know because I was standing right there when this happened.) Back to the thief. The manager tried to help him out by giving him a promotion. Aaron (my manager) gave him a position as a receiving person, then later as a supervisor. Shortly after giving him keys to our registers, money started to turn up missing. $20 went missing out of the petty cash drawer, and there were shortages up at the front register. Aaron asked him if he made change in the petty cash drawer that day. He said no. Aaron then asked why he saw him with both the petty cash drawer and the front register open. He then admitted that he did make change for a twenty. (Bastard. I could have gotten in trouble for that. I doubt Aaron would have accused me of stealing, but we're responsible for that drawer.) Aaron took his keys away and we went back to our little $.10 to $1.00 shortages here and there.
That wasn't the end of it. We couldn't do anything about the drawer because we had no proof that he had actually stolen that money. Then, we started to notice that he was wearing our merchandise around the store. Aaron noticed him wearing some of our pants. Some of our cashiers and I noticed him wearing our women's thermals. We found tags and empty packages in the breakroom trash. We noticed him wearing our women's camo belts and earrings. We just now had to get direct proof of this. Aaron went into the breakroom the day after our meeting (to discuss whether we should fire this guy) and found that the guy's locker was unlocked. He has full right to do a locker search, and that's exactly what he did. He found any number of our pairs of Star Blue jeans (all dirty) and a large pile of our price tags in there. I think he also found some iron-on patches, a bag of Cruch Toons (with no ticket on them), and some other things. I would've loved to see the look on his face when he got caught. Unfortunately for us, the cops wouldn't arrest him. We somehow didn't have enough "proof." That I don't quite understand. He knew that he had to get either Aaron or myself to ring him up for this stuff. We never sold a single thing to him. No other cashier in our store remembered ringing him up for anything either. That is, except for one. We weren't able to ask her because she never came back. (We suspect she was involved in this. She was friends with him, and it just seems a little fishy that she would decide to call out that day, then never come back again.)
Ian started working at Radioshack. We're actually trying to find him a new job, now. I personally don't like Radioshack anymore. They just really bug me. I don't like that they have to kiss people's asses . . . I don't like the little policy that would prevent Ian from defending himself from an attacker in the store or risk losing his job. I don't like that he got yelled at for refusing to sell CDs to someone who said he was going to burn a program onto them and sell it for $100 when he knows that he can get fired if he sells something to someone and it's used illegally. I don't like that they failed to inform him that they get rid of the people who make the least sales after Christmas when they first hired him. I don't like that his schedule keeps changing so that I rarely get to see him.
I know it's not just about what I like and don't like, though. He told me he doesn't like it, either, though. I just hope he's telling me the truth. Eh. Now, I have to go to work. Yay?
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Well, we got the place. These will probably be my last two weeks online. We can't really afford to have an internet connection. If any of our old online friends feel like keeping in touch, we'll give you the address.
The problem that we had with the guy who previously owned it blew over. He wasn't ignoring us. His cell phone broke, and he didn't get in contact with Reybold until last week. (So he claims . . . ) We only have a few more things to get around. One, the shed has to be torn down, and it's his responsibility to do that. Two, the lease has to be signed and the title has to be changed. Three, the taxes have to be paid. My mom is thinking about paying them herself because it's only around $90. We'll be signing the lease on Thursday. Ian should be here on Wednesday.
Erm. Dad got us a $749 matress with a $40 teflon cover.
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Ian and I were playing a multiplayer online RPG called Tibia. It's . . . interesting, but it's starting to piss me off. Last night we didn't have too much trouble getting around, killing things, and so on. (That is, except for someone locking the door in academy and forcing me to spend time in a little room with some guy who was accusing me of making everyone else miserable. I . . . didn't quite understand that.) This morning I started playing and everyone kept stealing my fucking kills. Everytime I found a rat, there would be a horde of people hanging around waiting for the rat to start to flee from me, then they'd cut me off so I couldn't kill it. Some people will just hang around and wait for me to kill the rat, then loot it before I get the chance. Have these people no sense of common courtesy?
It also has a few flaws. For one, the monsters don't regenerate quickly enough. That might be one of the reasons why these people feel the need to steal kills from me.
When people are talking, it appears on the screen. When there are a number of people in one place, you can't see what you're doing because the screen is cluttered with words. You can't turn this off.
Only one person can talk to a shopkeeper at a time. This causes a long line to form and a number of people saying "hello" constantly.
Combat sucks, and the rats fleeing is a pain in the ass.
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