Yeah, it's me. That girl called "Dawn Felagund" (who also answers to "Felak"--pretty effed up, since that's one of her male
characters--"the 'gund" or just plain "Dawn") who usually updates daily or so and has apparently fallen off of the face of the earth. Well, except for fannish things, but when I'm eighty, I doubt I'll look back at my journal and much care that "Oh yay, I posted Chapter Five of 'The Tapestries'!" Except to hopefully marvel at how crappy my writing was back when I was a mere babe at age twenty-five.
- I should have mentioned this about a month ago, but I don't like to talk about dead things. It took about five years after Uncle Wodie died to inform people who called him that he was deceased rather than simply saying, "Erm...he's not here right now?" which wasn't a lie, certainly. But made them call back and hopefully get my dad, who would inform them that Walter wasn't interested in an Amex gold card because he was in an urn on the shelf next to the dogs.
Mack the Knife, my ghost knifefish, died about a month ago. The day that Sharon and Kirsty arrived, I was showing them the cichlids, and Sharon asked, "Where is Mack the Knife?" and I realized that I had never posted about it. It might sound silly, but I was really sad over it. Over a fish.
I was lying in bed taking a nap one day when I noticed that Mack was behaving oddly, sort of swimming on his side. He had a white spot on his side, I noticed upon a closer look. I told Bobby, and he suspected that it was ick, so we started treating the tank. Mack was eating normally, but still swimming and behaving oddly. He hung in there for a few days, and we kept treating the water. Finally, one day, I came home and he was floating at the top of the tank. His fins had been eaten away and the spot on his side was an open sore, and I thought that he was dead. I asked Bobby, could he remove the body? I didn't want to do it. So Bobby went in to scoop him out and came back to tell me that he wasn't quite dead yet, which resulted in me getting pretty upset since he was in pretty bad shape and had obviously been nibbled on while still alive. We created a fish hospice for him--a big Tupperware bowl--and treated the water, knowing that he wasn't going to live but not wanting him eaten further while still alive. He didn't live. By the morning, he was gone.
I've since checked the stores for ghost knifefish, but no one has them anymore. I don't even know if I'd want another one because Mack was a special little guy, but I'd just like to see one. Silly, huh? Maybe we'll get one at the Aquarium.
- I swore that I wasn't making Christmas candy this year. So where am I going tomorrow? Over my parents' house. To make Christmas candy with my mom. *shakes head at self*
- Sharon and Kirsty flew home to England on Tuesday. :( We had such a great time; I was sad to see them go.
- On Sunday, they went with me to one of Bobby's hockey games for the Baltimore Bulldogs. He got hit in the face with a puck! It popped up and hit his lip and nose. Luckily, he was wearing a mouthguard, so no missing teeth, but his nose bled pretty badly and is still quite sore. Of course, he was back on the ice a few minutes after it happened, and he has a game tonight.
- Speaking of hockey, we went to the Caps game last night against the Ducks. It sucked. They lost 6 to 1. However, we were seated next to a section full of drunken, singing DC United fans, which proved to be quite entertaining. Alex (Ovechkin) got an assist but no goals. He also got a penalty for slashing. *plucks mind out of the gutter* This led Bobby and me to make up penalties for our Alex:
"Alexander Maitimo, two minutes for peeing on the carpet."
"Alexander Maitimo, two minutes for biting Daddy's feet."
"Alexander Maitimo, two minutes for messing with the Christmas tree."
In reality, Alex does get put in the penalty box sometimes. He has moments where he gets wild and out of control, where he seems to act before thinking, doing things that he knows are wrong. He gets a three-minute time-out then to settle himself down and get back under control. It's worked every time and means that we don't reinforce his behavior with attention.
The game was pretty wild in that there were three all-out fights. At one point, there were four guys sitting in the Ducks' penalty box and three guys in the Caps' penalty box. The NHL doesn't tend to allow fighting anymore (*will not comment on that*), so it's rare to see one fight much less three. The DC United fans after one of the Ducks got his ass kicked by Donald Brashear started singing, "You got your ass kicked! *clap clap clap* You got your ass kicked! *clap clap clap*" If only we'd won....
- A few months ago, one of Johnny's friends needed some help with statistics homework, so he hired me to help him and paid me quite well for it. He called me again the other day for help with more "math stuff."
This is a pretty broad request, so I asked, "What sort of maths stuff?" and was reassured that it was "just more stats, correlations and stuff." Since correlation is one of the major research methods used in behavioral science, I was confident enough to take on the assignment, so I told him to send along his problems, and I'd make sense of them.
The problem came when I realized that it was business stats and not behavioral stats that he needed. And, yes, they are different. But I chugged through the first set, though it took me forever, and I had to read the whole chapter before they even began to make sense to me. Then I moved onto the second set, and it got even worse. It wasn't even stats anymore. Now it was financial maths, and I'd never had a business or economics course in my life. I tried my best to find formulae for what I needed to do between the textbook and Wikipedia, but when one doesn't understand the core concepts and terms, it is difficult to make sense of things, and it became quickly clear that some of the formulae had been covered chapters back, and I'd have to read the whole book to understand them. That wasn't happening.
So I had to email him this afternoon, send him the one problem that I'd managed to do in the second set, and apologize but decline to do the rest. I feel a little duped because I'd agreed to do statistics work, not masters-level finance. And I've spent hours on the project with little result, so I feel like I shouldn't charge him for it, but I gave up my writing time to do it. So maybe I should. Nrgh. I guess it's only karma biting me in the butt for being unethical and agreeing to do someone's homework for money.
- I realized today that one can tell how long she's been in a relationship in part by how Christmas shopping is accomplished. I remember when Bobby and I were younger and just dating, Christmas was such a huge occasion, and we'd do our best to surprise each other with gifts. This year....
Dawn: So how much are you spending on me this year so I know that we're on the same page?
Bobby (later): Turn around, Dawn, and pretend that you didn't see me buying this book for you.
We've decided to take this year a little easier in terms of gifts. It was getting ridiculous...and meaningless. I don't really understand the idea of buying things just to buy things. Never mind that the person will never use them and doesn't want them. Honestly, I'd sooner someone treat me to dinner or buy maybe one really thoughtful thing that they know that I really want or would really love. So that is this year's gift-giving philosophy.
- Well, Bobby and I are officially students at Towson University. We sent in our admissions contracts yesterday. I have no idea what we'll be doing in the spring semester. Bobby's Chem 102 professor got arrested halfway through the semester, and the college couldn't find a replacement, so they cancelled the class and refunded everyone's money. Of course, now we're behind in chemistry. *sigh* We could take that; I really should take it again, even if I just audit the class, because it's been six years since I had a chemistry course. Six years! When did I get so old? Suffering through Dr. Smith's Chem 102 class and a four-hour lab block and the effing Carnot heat engine (which doesn't even exist yet was covered in four questions on a fifteen-question exam) at UMBC feels like just yesterday.
- Alex just locked himself in the bathroom. *sigh* Now he's crying to be let out. I guess that I should go do that. (Though maybe a little stay in the dark bathroom would teach him to stop closing himself in the bathroom to play with the doorstopper? Or maybe he'd just discover and chew my bathroom rugs.)
Yeah, I'm going to go let him out.