Her Ass is Grass

I know it's been a LOOOONG time since I've posted. For those of you who care, or somehow don't know, I moved to Nova Scotia about a year and a half back. Because everyone told me facebook was the place to be, I started using it. Something facebook lacks, however, is the unadulterated capacity to RANT LIKE A MANIAC!!!

It's something I feel the need to do right now. I have a feeling, nearly a premonition, that I will feel the need to do it more and more often.

Why? Two words. Home ownership.

Let's get this straight: I love D to pieces. I trust her implicitly and would travel to Hades and back for her (although because I'm stupid, I'd probably look behind me and she'd turn into a pillar of salt or something, so it likely wouldn't be an effective rescue).

We recently purchased a home. That's right. I now own a home with my lovely common law spouse. Lovely. I have to keep saying that to myself. Not bugnuts crazy. Not strap her to a gurney and inject her with valium insane. Lovely. Yes.

If I don't remind myself of that at least every 47 seconds, I get a bit twitchy.

So a bit of background. We had a birthday party for me back in April. Ah, April, when I was young and innocent, carefree and unencumbered by looming financial cliffs. I made a nice meal for my friends, had them all over for drinks, went and sang some karaoke, then came home to my patiently waiting hangover. That's not a metaphor for D. I really did have a hangover. The next day, around noon, we both woke up fresh as daisies soaked in turpentine.

We had no plans for the day, but we decided we wanted to do something that wouldn't cost us any money. "Let's go look at open houses!" D declared. "It's free, and we can get an idea of what's in our price range." This wasn't completely out of the blue since we had been saving for our down payment, but hadn't the funds quite yet.

A tip for those of you with spouses of the female persuasion: If your spouse suggests doing something that will not cost money, get out your wallet and take her to the movies, dinner, or buy her a box of frigging chocolate for all I care, otherwise you'll end up spending a LOT more. Like a couple hundred thousand more.

Long story short we found the house we really wanted to buy, scraped together the funds for our downpayment primarily by prevailing upon the generosity of our parents, put an offer down, applied for the mortgage, and yadda yadda yadda, we were homeowners. We moved in June 1st.

Okay, that's about 47 seconds. Lovely. She's lovely.

My parents recently came to visit and ended up spending most of their trip helping us with various projects around the house. We finished the risers on the basement stairs, mounted a live wire into a junction box in the kitchen, put up a clothesline, painted the kitchen cupboards, and I even tried my hand at carpentry assembling a table on which to mount the microwave. It turned out nicely. We bid them farewell after about a week, a week in which my mom tried to pay for everything (luckily D is sneaky and managed to field the waitresses and clerks for most of the times my mom tried to pay). However, my mom threatened to transfer me money for a lawnmower.

To be clear, I needed a lawnmower. Desperately. My lawn was -Who am I kidding? Was? My lawn IS- a foot and a half tall. I could hide hobbits in my lawn. First home, remember? I was surprised I needed to purchase a fire extinguisher, let alone a lawnmower.

So my mom followed through on her threat and we went to buy a lawnmower.

D and I have apparently quite differing interpretations of what that word means.

When I think lawnmower, I think a gigantic gas hog with blades that rotate at eleven billion miles a second, belching smoke and reducing my lawn to mulch in 13 seconds flat.

When D thinks lawnmower, she thinks an itsy bitsy eco-friendly push mower that requires the strength of ten men each of whom is at least twice my size to get it to devour even a foot of grass.

Because I'm a gentleman and a scholar, guess which one we got?

I just spent the last hour "mowing" the front lawn. It still looks like most of the haircuts my dad gave me. The only muscles I can still use are in my fingers and my eyes. I'm glad my fingers still work because it allows me to gesture in very particular ways at the lawnmower (and the lawn, as it's not entirely blameless).

My only consolation is that D said I look very sexy mowing the lawn. Yes. Thank you. I'm sure I will make just as sexy a corpse when I'm felled by my pending heart attack.

At least in my eulogy they'll be able to say I was eco-friendly. Yay.

Have I said she's lovely lately? I feel a twitch coming on.

HG Wells Hit

I have come to a decision.

I like what Stephen Spielberg did to War of the Worlds.

I realize that comment alone could get me lynched, but I plan to back it up with fact. My previous opinion, which was polar opposite, was formed having never in fact read the original novel. I simply listened to the opinion of my brother, my father, and I agreed wholeheartedly with them.

I should not have.

The primary point of contention around everyone's dislike of the adaptation is the fact that in the movie, the tripods were already deposited in the Earth, under its crust and only the aliens were delivered via some kind of energy tube.

Well, having now read that particular scene in the book, I can quite honestly say there is nothing in the book to contradict that interpretation. The cylinder that deposited the aliens in the original novel is described as having a diameter of approximately 30 yards, which calculates to 90 feet in diameter. Length is not described but if we assume that the cylinder is as long as it is wide we're looking at a total volume for the cylinder of approximately 500,000 cubic feet. That sounds like a massive number? It's about twice as big as big in terms of sheer volume as our space shuttle at 250,000 cubic feet.

I grant you that means these cylinders were very large, but were they large enough to carry enough equipment and materials to construct three TITANIC tripods, as well as the nine martian pilots, their life support equipment and supplies? These cylinders would also have to be extremely well armoured to withstand both atmospheric re-entry and impact with the earth's surface at extremely high velocities, so much of that cubic volume would be taken up purely by the shell of the cylinder itself. Remember as well that the tripods based on HG Wells description seem to have an organic component as well, which would probably require care and tending and special facilities inside the cylinder. Fuel would not have been an issue since Wells describes the cylinders as having been shot as though from a gun.

HG Wells never describes the actual construction of a tripod, never goes into distinct details about how it is assembled, what type of equipment is used to put it together, or where the parts come from. It is entirely likely that all the cylinders were for is transport of the pilots to very specific landing points, where equipment to build the tripods had been readied long in advance, and that upon arrival all that was necessary for the pilots to do was to dig out the materials and assemble them using what few tools it was necessary to carry onboard the cylinder.

So in my personal opinion Stephen Spielberg simply took this possibility and went one small step further with it, and I agree with his interpretation. I've been able to reassess the movie based on reading the book and I truly think Spielberg was as honest to the book as anyone could like while still putting in his own particular creative flare.

Disagree with me if you like, but read the book before you do.

Are We Crazy?

Well, having overcome the emotional tragedy and heartbreak of losing our first pet, Bun Bun, D and I thought and thought and finally decided that yes, we would get another pet. Our reasoning was mainly that we missed Bun Bun, and I think to honour her memory having another pet will constantly remind us of her, in a good way.

We once again decided on rabbits. Yes, the plural of rabbit. We are now the owners of two dwarf rabbits we obtained from the humane society, only 2 1/2 months old. They are brothers, and they came with very silly names, so we changed them.
The names they came with were Coal and Sweetpea. What kind of names are those? We have redubbed them Thelonious and Polonius. We call them Theo and Polo for short.

At this point we have yet to get a real feel for their personalities but as far as I've been able to deduce, Polo appears to be the more affectionate one, whereas Theo is more playful. Apparently Theo also likes to engage in a bit of incestual sodomy every once in a while, but we'll fix that maybe later this week or possibly next. Theo is a very dark black, while Polo has a brownish tinge to his fur. They enjoy grooming each other, and seem especially bent on cleaning each other's eyes. Both of them absolutely adore being pet, although Polo gets a lot flatter to enjoy it than Theo does.

We haven't really had them out of the cage for run arounds yet because we're still letting them adapt to their new environment. Since they're smaller rabbits as well we're going to have to keep a closer eye on them around places like the back of the fridge or stove to make sure they don't squeeze in and get trapped or find some wire to chew on and get zapped. Once D has finished her dining room table (HINT) I plan to use the vapour barrier she's protecting the finish with and seal up all the little hidey holes where they could inadvertently (that may be spelled incorrectly) kill themselves.

They seem to have a very strange fascination with paper towels. I was cleaning up something in their cage and couldn't finish because both rabbits were attached by very strong jaws to the paper towel I was using.

We'll have to find out if paper towels are bad for their digestion and if not, give them a supply to play with.

So far both rabbits are healthy and happy and seem to enjoy their new digs. I have yet to be thumped at, but that may be only because I've yet to bother them enough to warrant a thump. Time will tell, however.

I'm really hoping we have these two for quite a while. I quite like the burgeoning personalities I see in both rabbits and look forward to getting to know them over a period of years. But, since they are rabbits, I suppose I do have to accept the reality that they are fragile, and not very well designed from an individual survivability standpoint, so I'm trying to steel myself against potential tragedy. Still, they're brothers, and they seem to be looking out for each other so far. Perhaps they'll keep each other out of trouble.

We'll put pictures up soon.

Oh, and even though we haven't tested it yet, we're pretty sure both will fit in the crock pot simultaneously.