smelly melli

A little vignette about Melli that I put together last night...

I cleaned Mellicent's cage today.  It smelled a bit, and although I hadn't planned washing everything up for another couple of days, I thought she must have soiled the lining.  Then later as I sat on my bed reading, it started REEKING again!  And so I went over to the cage, did a sniff test, checked everything to make sure she didn't have diarrhea (or something), and it smelled completely normal: like aspen shavings.  I was mystified.  Then later, I smelled something pungent AGAIN.  And I finally figured it out.  Melli (and all rats) can fart!  And apparently dried corn makes them toot.  Guess what's in her food mix?  Lots of dried corn.  Thank goodness for the internet, or I'd think I have the dirtiest rat on the planet.  She was so cute when I took her out to examine her, too...just woken up, barely opened eyes, yawning and with the softest fur ever...

Apparently rats can't vomit/regurgitate, so the way that they get rid of indigestion is out the other end.  Now I just have to eliminate any and all foods that might have something to do with the phenomena, and I'm set.

bookworm devours public library

Today's title doesn’t actually fit the content of this post, but it sounded too good in my head this morning to discard it completely.  So, welcome to a post on books (but not on long invertebrates without appendages, whether book-loving or not).

I told a friend the other day that I’d cried in Starbucks last week.  She looked at me with concern and said, “What’s the matter?”  The funny thing is, nothing’s the matter.  I was sitting there, drinking my coffee and reading a library book.  It was the book I cried over.  I have a tendency to do this.  I can even name you several books that I’ve read multiple times, and cry buckets over with each re-read.  They tend to be my favorites (no guesses as to why: they draw on my emotions!), and I own most of them.  Last week’s particular novel, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, will be added to the collection when it comes out in paperback. 

The Hunger Games is set in the post-apocalyptic former United States, now called Panem.  Katniss, the sixteen year-old narrator, struggles to support her family by poaching and entering herself for the yearly Hunger Games (in which contestants from the ‘Districts’ of Panem fight to the death in a huge outdoor arena) in order to receive an extra food subsidy.  This is the story of her reality, her survival, and the morality and conflict inherent in humanity’s choices.  It’s on the American Library Association’s list of the ten best books for young adults, and although I wouldn’t recommend it for readers younger than 10, is suitable for all ages.  The book is full of lessons in honesty, bravery, sacrifice, anger and helplessness.  It’s a masterfully written, gripping tale of endurance, and I can’t wait until the sequel comes out in October.

But, back to the theme of crying and books.  It happens.  Laughter also happens.  I’ve been known to startle fellow patrons in a coffee shop (or anywhere, really) while reading something funny.  It used to drive my college roommate absolutely batty.  We’d both be in the room, but while she was studying quietly, I was usually reading recreationally.  And I’d burst out with my loud cackle, and scare the dickens out of her.  Just one of the idiosyncrasies that she put up with (thank you for such an amazing/understanding roommate, God!), along with my inability to study IN our room (I had to go somewhere else…preferably the student union).  I don’t know if it’s a quirk of my upbringing or just genetics, but reality is that I respond in an emotional and physical way to the stories I read.  My mother used to read aloud to my siblings and me, and would cry over the sad parts too, until we begged her to ‘just keep on reading.’  Now I see how similar we really are.

A few books that make me cry: Rilla of Ingleside by L.M. Montgomery, The Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton Porter, Phoenix and Ashes by Mercedes Lackey, Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson, Suzanne’s Diary for Nicholas by James Patterson, and Three Weeks With My Brother by Nicholas Sparks.  And those are just the ones on my shelves at the moment.  I think a lot of the classics I read back from age 10-15 were tear-jerkers, too.  It’s probably a rule of good literature that along with being enduring, a classic work must evoke emotion.  I wouldn’t know, though, because I passed on being an English major in college when my 11th grade English teacher told me that I probably wouldn’t enjoy reading anymore after four years of literature analysis.  That scared me into entering college as a Biology and Spanish major, which morphed into Spanish and Communication Studies.  And in the end to History, where we read all the time, don’t get fancy with the writing styles, and there’s sometimes such a lack of emotion that the absence of it is palpable.  The good news being that I can keep my emotional and expressive reading on the “I do this for fun” side of things.

For books that make me laugh out loud:  there are many, but a good start would include Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, and anything by Diana Wynne Jones, although I especially love The Merlin Conspiracy, Howl’s Moving Castle, The House of Many Ways and the first five of the Chrestomanci Chronicles.

Whew!  Definitely too many book recommendations and mentions.  And I haven’t even gotten to the list of recommended YA fantasy that I put together for a friend’s daughter.  THAT is four pages long (single-spaced, too).  Puts a new complexion on the term ‘bookworm,’ doesn’t it?

it's a bright, bright, bright, sunshine-y day!

The weather has been amazing in Atlanta the couple of days (could it stay sunny and warm forever?), and it inspires ‘outdoor activities.’  Unfortunately, I’m busy with end of semester projects, and can’t take advantage of it, so I made myself a list last night.

Things to do on an absolutely gorgeous day:

-       walk around the Highlands and check the progress of the flowering trees, climbing roses, pansies, tulips, azaleas, etc.

-       head over to Belly, the up-scale, rustic-chic neighborhood deli and order a sea salt bagel with avocado and sparkling apple juice

-       read one book from the growing ‘To Read’ pile (in the sun, of course)

-       sunbathe on Jo’s porch and play with her dog Kona

-       clean the pollen-covered lawn furniture and bike on the porch

-       fix sweet sun tea and bake chocolate mini-cupcakes with lemon frosting

Things I’ve done instead:

-       gone grocery shopping at Kroger and Whole Foods

-       eaten fried chicken and Doritos, washed down with beer

-       caught up on email

-       watched an episode of Cash Cab

-       updated the blog and listened to Melli run her wheel ragged

-       broke down and wore shorts (it’s 85°F, after all!)

-       had Tartufo, Chocoloate and Cheesecake gelato at Paolo’s

What I WILL get around to today or tomorrow:

-       cupcake baking and frosting

-       the latest Netflix movie

-       lots of WORK

-       listening to the Sounders FC soccer game

-       AND doing all of the random errands that accrue at the end of any given week

Finally, for your blog reading enjoyment, links to a couple of my favorites:  Neil Gaiman’s blog, The Daily Coyote, Robin McKinley’s blog, The Clothes Horse, Do You Really Want To Know?, and the Occidental Idiot.

surprise in concert

Jo, who lives around the corner and sometimes lends me baking implements, sent me a text on Wednesday afternoon.

4:31pm  Jo:  Hey! Do you like and/or know fall out boy and would be interested in going to a show tomorrow?!

4:33pm  Me:  how much are tix? i’d love to, but flat broke till may

4:34pm  Me:  crap. also have class till 7

4:48pm  Jo:  I can spot you for it no worries. I wasn’t planning on leaving until after 7 so that wouldn’t be a problem. Let me know!

4:56pm  Me: YES!

And thus I found myself at a Fall Out Boy concert last night, after six hours of seminar and not much sleep the night before.  Just for the record, I know two and a half Fall Out Boy songs.  That ‘Dance Dance’ one, the ‘Sugar We’re Going Down’ one, and half of ‘America’s Sweethearts.’  I say half, ‘cause I know the chorus.  BUT!  The wonderful thing about a pop/punk concert you didn’t plan on going to is that you don’t have any preconceived notions to hold you back from enjoying yourself.  As in, I just enjoyed the music and the show without spending the whole time wishing for a certain song, or obsessing about a particular band member, or (thank goodness!) going down into the crowd of high school kids right in front of the stage to jump around.

And I’ve never really noticed it before (this may be because I’m not a concert-going type...wait for it, I’ll explain later), but concerts are great places to people-watch.  There was this one girl in particular that caught the eye immediately.  She was wearing a deep v-neck white t-shirt, a black tie, suspenders, extremely tight jeans and knee-high boots with 4-inch heels.  Oh, and she had Lady GaGa hair (you know, the straightest, bleachiest blond possible, with bangs?).  But it wasn’t just her appearance.  She showed up right after us, started dirty dancing with her guy friends, and then tried to finagle her way backstage with a girl friend.  When she couldn’t get past Security, she continued dancing, falling over, and generally providing amusement to our entire section.  The way she worked those suspenders, dude…be classy, Atlanta. 

Speaking of keeping us amused…there were four opening acts before Fall Out Boy played: All Time Low, some band I’m not remembering the name of, Cobra Starship and Metro Station.  We only ended up hearing part of Cobra’s set, and Metro Station’s lead singer had a cold and sounded horrendous, but then after that there was a good twenty minute time out while we waited for the main act to set up and come out.  During the break they played an R&B mix, and one chubby boy (it was at a distance, so I can’t be sure, but he couldn’t have been older than 16) got his groove on.  I mean, he had the entire arena cheering him: getting low, shaking his a$$...he had more moves than I see in most music videos.  At one point he even took his shirt off and had groups of girls running up to hug him.  The Security guy in front of us was laughing and shaking his head, and the rest of us were screaming for more.  Love it.

But to go back to the topic of concert-going in general: it’s just not my deal.  My sister LOVES concerts.  And I’ve been to enough to know what I’ll enjoy, what I’ll tolerate, and what I’ll think was a waste of time.  For instance, I will pay a lot of money to go to (and I really will enjoy) an outdoor Jack Johnson concert.  I’ve been to see Switchfoot a number of times, so I know I like them in concert, too.  What I do not care for are concerts in venues with only one type of seating, bands I don’t know (there was this one time I went to a jazz concert in Pittsburgh and spent the entire time wishing I was on the way home…), having to stand so close to someone that their sweat may transfer onto me (MAJOR hang-up, right there), and events where the median age of attendees is probably 20 or 30 years older than myself (Trans-Siberian Orchestra circa 2007.  No, I did not pay for those tickets.).  I could give you a list of concerts that have been so-so, but I have friends who read this blog, and I’d like them to remain that way…

That said, the Fall Out Boy show was vastly entertaining (both on- and off-stage antics), I’m old enough now to purchase alcohol at these things, and by going to the concert I a) missed a massive thunderstorm (not a huge fan of thunderstorms.  Actually, not a fan AT ALL.) over Atlanta, b) got to hear some sweet music, c) spent my Thursday night doing something rather than going straight off to sleep, and d) got the weekend started off right.  Oh, and I got a couple of cool photos.