Yeah, go make a visit, askye. I know it's easier said than done, but I think you will be happier and less anxious for having seen the state, let alone the places, and you can talk to landlords and whatnot, and then maybe do the rest of the paperwork from back home while you get sorted. Plus, you'd get to see Will.

ATL also has Daleks!

I threw our trash away and closed the lild and a light started flashing on top and it made lots of noise!

I think people saw me spin back around startled and then back away slowly. And I am sure they laughed. But I'm just looking for the Doctor because clearly DALEKS OMG SAVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You're not crazy at all, Seska. It was a logical reaction to a crazy situation.

There's revisionist history going on at work, and it's made me very angry. Like, so angry last night I took half a valium so I could sleep. I think I'm going to have to call the one coworker I think I can trust and talk to her about it.

I have three very fun invitations tonight: a party called "Achocolypse Now," where there will be lots of chocolate, unsurprisingly; an 80's dance party with my bellydance peeps, at which we are encouraged to dress up as our favorite 80's icon (I was thinking Pat Benatar, since I've got the look, somewhat); or a gallery reception/masquerade party. And yet, I don't know that I'm going to go to any of them. The two dress-up parties feel like too much effort (which is weird for me) and at the other one I'm worried I'll be the only singleton and I can't deal with that shit right now.

I need a partner in crime, dammit.

And I think it's time to admit that I'm bitter about Valentine's Day this year, unusually for me.

Waves at Cass

Hi, Ginger! You have a monsterous airport. I waved from the air to you. In all the directions. Actually I had a map thingie in my seat for the flight from San Diego and I waved at lots of 'fistas when I flewover or near them. I make my own fun. Excepts for the Dalek trash cans. Those just startled the hell out of me.

I think you just encountered a "Big Belly" trash compactor can. We looked at putting those on campus.

That could be hysterical with altered students running around.

And it just made me think about how dogs know to temper that instinct when they're play fighting. It's oddly cheering to have that bit of trust between species. "I'm going to stick my hand in your mouth and I know you're not going to bite me."

This happens to be a huge issue for me. Ryla knows how to play and have a soft mouth because she was not taken away from her litter too soon. I think I need to start a campaign to get breeders to be much smarter about this.

I just warned a client to wait until at least 10 weeks, preferably 12, before bringing their new puppy home. They nodded in ascent, recognizing that having a small child in the house would make an almost impossible task even harder if they had to teach bite inhibition themselves.

Sure enough, they brought her home at 6 weeks. The first two people to get bitten? The daughter and me.

Sheesh.

So, long way around to, Yay Ryla!

Yeah, it is nice when animals know the difference between play and serious. (My cat Tanuki has claws but plays with you completely safely.)

Who recommends taking animals home at 6 weeks? That's ridiculous. 10-12 is pretty unusual but most people at least wait 'til 8 weeks.

Thanks, smonster. And ouch, re the revisionist history. I hope it lets up and lets you sleep soon.

Giggling at the thought of my students encountering Dalek-style trashcans on campus. (No, I'm not sure why that's funny.)