I just spat it out and threw it away and I'll go rinse my mouth in a second. If I were more civic-minded I'd take it back down to the caf because the lunch rush is just starting and they really shouldn't have the EW FUCKING GROSS out there poisoning staff and students and patients' families, but I just feel disgruntled and disinclined to scoop it back up out of the trash, trundle back down four flights of stairs, argue with the cashiers over $1.50 worth of pasta, and then stand there for another 20 minutes while various staff and supervisors are called and they try to figure out whose responsibility it is to get it out of there (um, yes, I have alerted them to skeevy foods before, so unfortunately I know the procedure).
I really need to never eat there again.
So how the fucking fucking FUCK do you cat owners get a cat into a cat-carrying box? HOW?
Tail-end in first with the up-ended crate is easier.
Yes, this. This is what we used to do with Beastie. It prevents the kitty from bracing his back legs efficiently. Just make sure you get the door close the moment is head has dropped inside the carrier.
Captain Appropriate is just not driving the tugboat.
Tugboat. BWAH!
Okay, actually, I don't care one bit about the timing of presents. I just like getting them.
That's for sure.
I wouldn't.
Even without the eating for two thing.
I would pursue it, though. Because I need to Win One right now and making cafeteria staff cry? Might look like "Close enough."
So, lucky for them, they grossed you out and not me.
The cafeteria used to rock -- run by the Dept. of Nutrition at the nursing school, with tasty and healthy menus designed by Dean Ornish, who used to have a faculty appointment here. Then, during the incredibly disastrous attempted merger with Stanford back in '98 or thereabouts, it was decided that it'd be more efficient to outsource all the caf work to Marriott. Ever since then, TEH SUCK. Also, the nutrition students have lost a work-study opportunity. But, hey, at least they're saving money, and it's not like student education and staff satisfaction mean shit compared to saving money!
And on a completely different topic, nodnodnod to everyone who says load the cat into the carrier tail-first. Headfirst, the forelegs splay in this totally load-thwarting brace-and-resist motion that you can't overcome without breaking the cat, but hinderparts first, kitty just pops right in and the splaying and bracing doesn't do a speck of good.
It was small and white and looked like a tooth, and I almost ate it.
BWAH!!!
I really need to never eat there again.
No, no you don't. That's just, ugh. No.
So how the fucking fucking FUCK do you cat owners get a cat into a cat-carrying box? HOW?
I have a top-loading carrier and that helps immensely. Once I have my cat (which is a trick in itself), I hold him in one arm with his feet hanging down. With the opposite hand, I grab all four legs otherwise, he'll splay them and I can't get him in. Then, in one swift motion, I shove him down in the box and close the lid very quickly.
Cats can be tricksy, but I have thumbs. I win.
It was small and white and looked like a tooth, and I almost ate it.
The key word is "almost". Plus, it was
in your food,
not on the toilet seat. So you're good.
(Man, if I EVER meet that poor boy, I'm
so
going to be giving him small square of chewing gum.)
...Thank you all the people who have given Good Cat Box Advice. Bless you all. You rock. I feel like I stand a chance in hell of doing this tomorrow, now.
So, why is it that I have made no approach to get to know a bloke who has worked
in my building
for the whole of the past year, and of whom I have thought 'huh, you're quite cute' whenever I've seen him?
I mean, he is very likely hooked up with somebody by this point, and/or a total twit once one gets to know him, but WHAT IS WITH ME that I think 'Hmm. Cute.'
and then run away automatically, before he has a chance to not fancy me?
JEsus!!!! It's just beyond insane. I'm far too old for this shit.
Anyway, am just reflecting upon this because I've emailed him for info about Thailand, as he lived there for 4 years, apparently, and I asked him about it in the bank the other day, and he kindly gave me his email address & said he could email me some stuff. And I'm just marvelling at the fact that I only feel brave enough to chat to him
when I know I'm not going to have any chance of remotely seeing him in person.
Honest to God. I just have no patience with my own stupid fucking hangups. GET OVER IT ALREADY, FAY.
It's like I'm just
determined
to die old and alone and be eaten by the fifteen cats I'm living with at that point. Determined.
bangs head on table.
WHAT IS WITH ME that I think 'Hmm. Cute.' and then run away automatically, before he has a chance to not fancy me?
Once you figure it out, could you clue me in? I do the same damn thing.
I don't even have anyone to do that with anymore.
