Ivan has a foot/shoe fetish. He loves to lie near my feet and rub them when I'm on the computer (once he's determined that he's not getting any more petting while my fingers are dancing on the keys). He also likes to go in the closet, smell the shoes, and chew on the rawhide bows on my good Lands' End slippers.
I'm still doing battle with the Great Respiratory Infection of 2006, though the second course of antibiotics has given me the upper hand.
If Kamikaze Girls isn't your thing, you might want to hit a local movie theater (discounted matinee of course) as Ken and I did and see A Prairie Home Companion. It's a fun, offbeat, and a truly enjoyable movie even if you have never heard the radio program. Even if you don't like the radio program. Guy Noir figures heavily in the plot, Shoe Band and Dusty & Lefty (as singers, not just cowboys) make an appearance, and yes, they do commercials. Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin are excellent actors and vocalists as mature gospel-singing sisters who have been making the county-fair rounds since childhood. And yes, the music is as good as on the show (though I didn't need quite so many verses of the "Bad Jokes" song.)
Our manager is on leave, so of course the roof leaked with all this rain and we've had an incursion of ants. Plus our lightbulbs were delivered broken for the second time in a row. And yours truly is in charge of course. Fortunately, our first Summer Reading Club event went well--a very nice young man did a fun and engaging "mad science" chemistry and physics show!
Did I mention Ivan's full name? Ivan Vorcatril the Wonderful, Czar of all the Russias and Pasadena, Hider in Vanities. (That last part of his title is courtesy of Tom Z.) We may have to add something about the foot fetish, though.
The bok choy I planted a couple of months ago with much trepidation is growing like crazy. We've eaten a lot of it. And will eat more. The cucumbers are going great guns and so are the johnny-jump-ups. They're jumping out of the pot and growing across the front of the building where we live!
Plus we've been seeing box turtles!! Ken rescued one from the road last week. So nature is doing well in our little corner of the world, sometimes with our help.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Friday, June 16, 2006
Baby, the stars shine bright!
Okay, everyone, while I was at home slowly recovering (still recovering, btw) from my respiratory infection, one of the few things I had enough brain cells to do was to watch the Kamikaze Girls DVD our 18-year-old page lent me. This is a kick-butt excellent movie about two Japanese teenage girls who are radically different types of extreme nonconformists (extreme by Japanese standards, which is really saying a lot!!)
If you are interested in subcultures, Japan, nonconformists, the bizarre things to which some teenage girls devote their daily lives, the rococo period, or what the Japanese call a 'Yanki' (yes, that's a reference to us here in the States) you should see this movie. You should see it anyway.
The book it's based on is pretty cool too, but the movie is better.
If you access the link, you may figure out the title of this posting...
If you are interested in subcultures, Japan, nonconformists, the bizarre things to which some teenage girls devote their daily lives, the rococo period, or what the Japanese call a 'Yanki' (yes, that's a reference to us here in the States) you should see this movie. You should see it anyway.
The book it's based on is pretty cool too, but the movie is better.
If you access the link, you may figure out the title of this posting...
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Adventures in Health Care
Well, Monday night I came home from work with a sore throat. Tuesday morning I called in sick with a full-blown upper respiratory infection (sore throat, congestion, headache, low brain function). Coincidentally, Ken's car wouldn't start, so he took mine (this ties in, I promise). I slept (OK, and read on the computer and played with the cat) all morning and rested & read in the afternoon. And drank slippery-elm-bark tea (very good for sore throats). That night I got off the couch and promptly tripped over Ivan's scratching post, hurting the toes on my left foot. So there I sat in bed at 10:30 pm, ice packs on my foot.
Wednesday morning I still didn't feel great. Ken was staying home so he could take care of the car. Good thing because my foot still hurt and one toe in particular was swollen and painful so I thought it might be broken.
I called my doctor's office and they said I should go to the emergency room for an X-ray. Yuck. So I called my insurance company's preauthorization number. After misdialing the number twice (my brain being fuzzed from the respiratory infection) and then going through the maze of messages, a human told me I needed to call the main number. So I did. They couldn't find the name of our local hospital for a while, and then after finding it, said I needed a referral. So, back to my doctor's office, this time to talk to the referral person. Did I mention I was put on hold at least twice? You probably guessed that. Well, they said they’d mail the referral to me and no, they couldn’t fax it to the hospital and didn’t have their fax number (Come on, people, there’s only three emergency rooms in the county and you operate a huge medical office, you don’t have all their numbers?)
I finally hung up the phone, lay down on the bed and declared to Ken in the next room, “We’re moving to Canada.” “Fine,” he replied. “I’ll get a job at the Museum of Civilization in Hull.” “Great! I exclaimed. We’ll be near Ottawa and can go hear Charles deLint (one of my favorite fantasy authors) and his Celtic band play.” (We regularly mock-threaten to move to Canada, for political reasons more often than because of the healthcare disaster—excuse me, system-here in the US). I got so mad at the current administration once that I went to the Canada Immigration site and found Ken and I have a lot of “points” toward being desirable immigrants.
We went to the emergency room, got there near the beginning of a “rush,” and spent about 3 hours—not bad for a non-life-threatening emergency. Needless to say, since Ken and I are both emergency-room veterans, we brought books. I spent more time waiting for treatment for my concussion when my friend/classmate Athena and I were hit by a car crossing College Ave. at Rutgers in 1998 and I had one heck of a concussion at that time.
The emergency room visit was the usual rigamarole, wait in line, give them my info and the Holy, Most Vital Health Insurance Card, wait some more, talk to the triage nurse (very friendly and informative—I’ve loved every triage nurse I’ve had, though this one forgot to ask if I was on any medications. I let her know, since I am on two), wait a bit more, get into a room, wait, talk to the doctor, have him check out my respiratory infection as well (getting better and nothing to worry about), enter into a long sequence regarding getting my foot x-rayed (we finally decided against it, long story). The orthopedic whatever (a nice guy) taped my toe to the next one, gave me instructions and one of those lovely rigid-sole foot boot/sandals, and then out again to wait for the discharge nurse and to deal with final insurance stuff. I really got excellent health care, it just took a long time, so I am grateful to the medical staff (also grateful I have health insurance, unlike so many people here in the US!)
By then it was lunchtime so we went to Szechuan Café for chicken with string beans (me) and Ken’s ever-favorite General Tso’s Chicken. The rest of the day was comparatively uneventful: we both took a nap and got Ken’s car (which needed a new battery). Then I got a haircut, ate leftover Chinese food for dinner, watched some anime, and scared the cat by flipping the bedsheet over him.
Tomorrow I go back to work and have a break—no, I better not use that word—have an ordinary day, I hope.
PS from Thursday-- Work was not exactly ordinary--one of our Summer Reading posters still hasn't arrived; the computers were off and on (more off than on) till about 3:30 pm, and there was a meeting-room issue, which my coworker Shelley graciously solved by moving her volunteers into the break room. And it's still only 8pm!
Wednesday morning I still didn't feel great. Ken was staying home so he could take care of the car. Good thing because my foot still hurt and one toe in particular was swollen and painful so I thought it might be broken.
I called my doctor's office and they said I should go to the emergency room for an X-ray. Yuck. So I called my insurance company's preauthorization number. After misdialing the number twice (my brain being fuzzed from the respiratory infection) and then going through the maze of messages, a human told me I needed to call the main number. So I did. They couldn't find the name of our local hospital for a while, and then after finding it, said I needed a referral. So, back to my doctor's office, this time to talk to the referral person. Did I mention I was put on hold at least twice? You probably guessed that. Well, they said they’d mail the referral to me and no, they couldn’t fax it to the hospital and didn’t have their fax number (Come on, people, there’s only three emergency rooms in the county and you operate a huge medical office, you don’t have all their numbers?)
I finally hung up the phone, lay down on the bed and declared to Ken in the next room, “We’re moving to Canada.” “Fine,” he replied. “I’ll get a job at the Museum of Civilization in Hull.” “Great! I exclaimed. We’ll be near Ottawa and can go hear Charles deLint (one of my favorite fantasy authors) and his Celtic band play.” (We regularly mock-threaten to move to Canada, for political reasons more often than because of the healthcare disaster—excuse me, system-here in the US). I got so mad at the current administration once that I went to the Canada Immigration site and found Ken and I have a lot of “points” toward being desirable immigrants.
We went to the emergency room, got there near the beginning of a “rush,” and spent about 3 hours—not bad for a non-life-threatening emergency. Needless to say, since Ken and I are both emergency-room veterans, we brought books. I spent more time waiting for treatment for my concussion when my friend/classmate Athena and I were hit by a car crossing College Ave. at Rutgers in 1998 and I had one heck of a concussion at that time.
The emergency room visit was the usual rigamarole, wait in line, give them my info and the Holy, Most Vital Health Insurance Card, wait some more, talk to the triage nurse (very friendly and informative—I’ve loved every triage nurse I’ve had, though this one forgot to ask if I was on any medications. I let her know, since I am on two), wait a bit more, get into a room, wait, talk to the doctor, have him check out my respiratory infection as well (getting better and nothing to worry about), enter into a long sequence regarding getting my foot x-rayed (we finally decided against it, long story). The orthopedic whatever (a nice guy) taped my toe to the next one, gave me instructions and one of those lovely rigid-sole foot boot/sandals, and then out again to wait for the discharge nurse and to deal with final insurance stuff. I really got excellent health care, it just took a long time, so I am grateful to the medical staff (also grateful I have health insurance, unlike so many people here in the US!)
By then it was lunchtime so we went to Szechuan Café for chicken with string beans (me) and Ken’s ever-favorite General Tso’s Chicken. The rest of the day was comparatively uneventful: we both took a nap and got Ken’s car (which needed a new battery). Then I got a haircut, ate leftover Chinese food for dinner, watched some anime, and scared the cat by flipping the bedsheet over him.
Tomorrow I go back to work and have a break—no, I better not use that word—have an ordinary day, I hope.
PS from Thursday-- Work was not exactly ordinary--one of our Summer Reading posters still hasn't arrived; the computers were off and on (more off than on) till about 3:30 pm, and there was a meeting-room issue, which my coworker Shelley graciously solved by moving her volunteers into the break room. And it's still only 8pm!
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I've been quoted in the Sun!
A reporter from the Baltimore Sun (the major paper in our state) came to our anime and manga club Thursday to interview me and some of the members. We got 3/4 of the front page of the Education part of the Anne Arundel section of the Sunday paper (so it won't be available online for me to link you to it, a pity). Not bad!
I was described as "Librarian Beth Chandler, a fan of the Japanese art form herself."
The reporter and photographer did a great job, and so did "my kids." There's a photo of Jessica, our president, who is quoted as saying "anime brings more depth to the stories." Stephanie, one of our artists and writers, was photographed showing her art sketchbook to three other members. The members talked about how much fun the club was, and I was quoted as saying "it's a bit new and different and a bit countercultural, and it draws them in." The last quote is from a member who said "I like manga, and I like the library." Joan, our Programming and Outreach coordinator at headquarters, was thrilled with that last quote!
Very satisfying! Next for the club: we're making T-shirts, probably with the club's new name: Anime Freaks.
I was described as "Librarian Beth Chandler, a fan of the Japanese art form herself."
The reporter and photographer did a great job, and so did "my kids." There's a photo of Jessica, our president, who is quoted as saying "anime brings more depth to the stories." Stephanie, one of our artists and writers, was photographed showing her art sketchbook to three other members. The members talked about how much fun the club was, and I was quoted as saying "it's a bit new and different and a bit countercultural, and it draws them in." The last quote is from a member who said "I like manga, and I like the library." Joan, our Programming and Outreach coordinator at headquarters, was thrilled with that last quote!
Very satisfying! Next for the club: we're making T-shirts, probably with the club's new name: Anime Freaks.
More Ivan!
As I'm typing this, Ivan is energetically batting "Rosie" (his toy mouse) around the living room. He's been totally manic (in "Miles" mode, for those of you who know where his name comes from) this morning. He was begging to be played with and petted, so I finally started hunting down his Feline Flyer (the ultimate cat toy--twisty feathers on a small fishing pole--sounds simple but they make it just right so the movements drive cats wild!). I couldn't find it and Ivan was driving me crazy (I can only play with and pet him so much before my sinuses really act up). The final straw was when I was typing on the computer in the living room and heard a couple of loud thumps in the kitchen. I went in and it took me a while to see where Ivan had gotten to--the top of the cabinets, only about a foot from the ceiling! I called him back down (three hops from cabinet to top of fridge to counter to floor) so I called Ken at work and quickly begged for the location. Got the flyer, and had a great time with Ivan!
Ken was calling him "Ivan the Wonderful, Czar of all the Russias" last night. He is Ivan the Wonderful, never Ivan the terrible or Ivan-you-idiot (he's waaay too smart for that--and for our peace of mind sometimes!)
Here are more pictures...
(a wedding gift from my dad's cousin Carol and her husband).
Ken scritching Ivan's belly. Ivan loves this. He also loves nuzzling on the afghan you see nearby.
Here's Ivan on his cat tree, looking out the sliding-glass doors.
The other night he found a bug over by the sofa (not a cockroach, thank goodness! and the inchworms are long gone, not that they ever really got inside.) Watching him hunt the bug was such fun!
Ken was calling him "Ivan the Wonderful, Czar of all the Russias" last night. He is Ivan the Wonderful, never Ivan the terrible or Ivan-you-idiot (he's waaay too smart for that--and for our peace of mind sometimes!)
Here are more pictures...
(a wedding gift from my dad's cousin Carol and her husband).
Ken scritching Ivan's belly. Ivan loves this. He also loves nuzzling on the afghan you see nearby.
Here's Ivan on his cat tree, looking out the sliding-glass doors.
The other night he found a bug over by the sofa (not a cockroach, thank goodness! and the inchworms are long gone, not that they ever really got inside.) Watching him hunt the bug was such fun!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)