Raging Red

I had a 10″ nonstick omelet pan on my Christmas list, and my aunt & uncle gave me this:

My sentiments exactly, Sophie. Anyone else get a terrible Christmas gift this year?

I’m moving into a new place this weekend and I haven’t put one single thing in a box yet. I hate moving. I love being in a new place, but the actual moving part really, really sucks. It does help me sort through my stuff and get rid of crap I don’t need, though, which is nice.

We finally decided on a name, though lately we’ve been calling her Cat Bastard. That started the night I was startled awake by the sound of shattering glass. Nothing valuable, but still. Good thing she’s cute.

The most adorable little tortoiseshell kitten followed me home last night. H.K. and I were taking a walk around the neighborhood after dark (because we’re vampires) and she just appeared and ran right toward me. She was super lovey and friendly. I couldn’t resist picking her up. H.K. estimated that she’s about eight weeks old — too young to be let outside by herself!

She was wearing a collar with a little bell on it, but no tags, and she looked well taken care of. She followed us all the way home, which is about three blocks from where we found her. I’ve never met a cat that was so friendly — she wasn’t skittish at all and kept running right to me.

H.K. said, “She really likes you.”

“I think it’s the cheeseburger,” I said.

We had just eaten dinner, and though I washed my hands afterwards, I’m sure I still smelled like a giant cheeseburger to the kitty. This, of course, made us think of LOLcats, which made us LOL.

I figured that if we just left her outside she would find her way back home. H.K. checked outside a little later and she was still right outside the door. He opened it and she wandered inside like she owned the place. We don’t have a litter box, so I didn’t see how we could keep her inside (and I wasn’t about to make a late night run to the only place one could probably find a litter box at that hour — Wal-Mart). So we left her outside. Before I went to bed I looked outside and she was gone.

Well, this morning as I was leaving for work, I opened the door and she was lounging right there, in all her fantastic adorableness. I had to go, but H.K. fed her some tuna after I left. He left her outside, and now I’ve returned home from work to find her parked right outside our door, where she is apparently planning to stay unless we do something about this situation. I’ve now let her inside, since it’s absolutely sweltering out, and she’s climbing all over me and trying to write her own blog post.

I want this kitty, but I don’t want to be a cat-napper. If I were her owner, I’d be really upset that she is missing. So, we’re going to hang some flyers and try to find her owner, but I’ll secretly have my fingers crossed that nobody claims her.

Here’s a little friendly head’s up for anyone out there in the Charleston area with unpaid parking tickets: You may have recently read in the paper that the police have turned over the task of booting cars to the parking enforcement people — those people in the little go-karts who have a sixth sense for detecting the exact moment that a meter starts blinking red. There are people in town with thousands of dollars of unpaid parking tickets. The city has only three boots and three employees who are trained and authorized to do the booting. These fun facts might lead you to believe that the odds of your car getting booted for having only a few unpaid tickets are very low. You’d be wrong.

I had the joyous experience of walking out to my car this morning and finding a big yellow boot attached to the front wheel. Luckily, my boyfriend’s car was available, so I was able to run downtown immediately and pay the fines. When I got back home, these dudes were removing the boot:

Thanks, guys!

So beware, they’re not just targeting the big offenders. Getting the boot removed will run you an extra fifty bucks (and a headache), so I’d recommend you pay off those tickets, even if it’s only a handful. Or else hide your car in the bushes or something.*

(FYI: They apparently sent me a notice about the unpaid tickets to my old address, which, being my old address, I never received. So, you know, watch out for that too.)

* Disclaimer: Does not constitute legal advice.

Photo by nhanusek

Finally. I’ve been itching for spring to arrive. Yesterday evening I swept the back porch, wiped the dirt off of the table and chairs, hung the cheap paper lanterns, and sat down to enjoy the first mojito of the season. Then the second, then the — *hic*.

iTunes blows goats for quarters. Last night I managed to accidentally wipe out virtually all of the music stored on my iPod. I stayed up until almost 3:00 a.m. trying to search for a way to retrieve the deleted files, to no avail. I did discover Media Monkey, which runs way faster than iTunes’ glacial pace. I might stick to using MM in the future, but of course that doesn’t help me get back all of the music that I’m going to have to spend hours putting back on my iPod. Argh. Did I mention that iTunes sucks?

I’m pro-choice because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone force me to experience nine months of pregnancy and subsequent childbirth because they think I’m a bad girl who must face the consequences of my “mistake.” It makes no difference to the people who would force me to be pregnant that:

• the condom may have broken,
• my birth control pills may have failed,
• I may have been young and careless and decided that yes, just this once, my boyfriend could use the withdrawal method,
• my abusive husband may have pressured me to have unprotected sex when we do not have the means to support another child,
• I may have been raped,
• I may have attempted to get emergency contraception but I couldn’t find a doctor and/or pharmacist to give it to me in time,
• I may have a medical condition, such as preeclampsia, that makes pregnancy and/or childbirth a risk to my health.

I’m pro-choice because a woman facing an unwanted pregnancy should be entitled to decide what is best for her based on her particular circumstances. I’m pro-choice because although I have never had to face an unwanted pregnancy, millions of women do every year, and the possibility that I might in the future is always there. I’m pro-choice because I don’t think that women who have unwanted pregnancies are bad people who deserve to be punished. I am pro-choice because I understand that some women have less privilege than others — less money, less education, less family support.

I’m pro-choice because when a man makes one of those “mistakes” that leads to an unwanted pregnancy, he doesn’t have to wear a sandwich board around for the next nine months that says: “I don’t want a child, but I knocked somebody up. Ask me how!”

I’m pro-choice because it’s the pro-choice movement, not the so-called “pro-life” movement, that genuinely strives to reduce the number of unwanted pregnancies by providing accurate sex education and access to birth control and women’s health services.

I’m pro-choice because my body and my life are mine and nobody else’s.

Yeah, I’m shameless. Now go buy me a present. Even all of you strangers who have come here looking for a certain sex tape because of my last post. I don’t have it. Also, a surprising number of people do Google searches simply for the word “boob.” Okay, maybe that’s not surprising.

Investigators are labeling it “suspicious,” saying that an accelerant may have been used. I swear it wasn’t me. My money’s on this guy: