Fake Ribs

I’m kinda shocked I’ve forgotten to post this here.  I was totally digging around looking for the specifics of this, since I need to start making it in a few.  GG Marianne.

I’m copy/pasting this from my old, defunct LJ account, so this might not be news to some of you *eyes Lori* but I have it on excellent authority this recipe is a star, so I figure it bears repeating, just in case.    This is our usual July 4th meal, though it’s pretty hands off (and easy) the rest of the year as well.

1 rack ribs (pork)
1/2 cup Jack Daniels BBQ sauce
1/2 cup Hoisin Sauce

Wrap ribs tightly in foil, cook at 250 for 3 hours.
Let stand approx 30 min (or until cool enough to unwrap and remove from foil without risking major burns and trips to the emergency room) There WILL be a large amount of rendered fat in the foil, and the ribs will have begun to shun the bones. Be careful.
Turn up oven to 325. Liberally baste ribs with sauce.
Cook basted ribs for 1 hour at 325. Apply more sauce, turn off oven, and let sit for another 30 minutes.

And the notes and disclaimers:

1) Fake because we don’t have a grill and didn’t make our own sauce.
2) On Monday, we’re at the grocery store. “Do we need more BBQ sauce for the ribs?” “No, we’re good.” Then the “oh crap” moment when you’ve got a partially cooked thing of ribs and realize you’ve only about 1/4 bottle left, and no spares. Hoisin was added pretty much at random and, I gotta say, it tasted amazing.
3) Note on cooking time/temp. I remembered my grandfather always makes super nummy ribs, leaving them in the oven on very low heat while they’re at church (since ribs are a Sunday thing) before basting and grilling. We decided to give it a try as a low-effort way to do it, to go with our generally lazy day. They were done after 1h at 325, but we were in WoW in the middle of an instance, so after taking 5 min to run downstairs and re-baste, we just turned off the oven and let them set. >.>

Going, going…

I can’t shake the feeling that Sarahbeth is on the downswing.  She’s been losing weight, so Judy took her in to the vet late last week.  Her wbc count is elevated, so there’s SOMETHING going on infection-wise, she’s drinking up a storm, but not really able to use the litter box terribly well, so there’s something up with her kidneys, and she’s entirely stopped eating.

I’ve had cats all my life, and I’ve lost a dog to kidney failure.  I’m looking at her, as I’m trying to force feed her baby food (smear on teeth, wait for her to lick, hope she doesn’t just spit it out.  repeat, repeat, repeat) and it’s just…  really familiar seeming.

I mean, I hope I’m wrong.  I’m hoping the vet will figure out what’s wrong with her and it’ll be fixed like that.  But, she’s 15 years old, and has given up on eating entirely.  That just seems to me like the beginning of the end :\

Corn Chowder

I know I’ve reached maximum density with blogs when I reach the point where I forget to update them.  Well, I’ve remembered this one now, and in honor of that (and of the change in seasons and the cooold day outside, I’m going to share the recipe we’re having for dinner tonight.

It’s rich, it’s thick, it’s totally NSFD (not safe for diet) but it’s totally what the doctor orders on cold, damp evenings.

2 slices bacon, chopped
1 small onion, diced
2 russet potatoes (the Mr Potato Head kinds), peeled and cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1/2 red bell pepper, diced
2 cups cream
1 can creamed corn
1 cup frozen corn
1 ham steak, chopped
1 tsp dried thyme
salt, pepper, cayenne, garlic powder, red pepper flakes, all to taste

Directions

Cook bacon in heavy-bottomed pot (a dutch oven or pasta pot works well for this) until fat is rendered

Add onion and cook until tender (approx 8 minutes) stirring occasionally

Add potato and bell pepper, sautee 1 minute

Add cream and heat just to boiling.  Reduce heat and simmer until veggies are tender, and soup thickens slightly (approx 15 min) stirring occasionally

Add ham, creamed corn, corn, thyme, water (to desired consistency) and simmer until heated through (about 10 minutes)

Add any other spices to taste.

Notes

As stated above, this recipe, while easy to prepare, is not for the faint of heart.  The first thing most people say is “Bacon AND Ham??” (the answer is yes) and the second is “CANNED corn?” (the answer is also yes) and the third is “You really need TWO CUPS of heavy cream?!”  (again, yes.)

Combined together, this combination is rich, thick, filled with sweet corn taste, with just a bit of a bite of heat from the pepper flakes to stop it from being overwhelming.  Serve with thick slices of bread (sourdough preferred) and watch it disappear.  This recipe is the reason the phrase “food coma” was invented, in all the best ways.

Sometimes I hate hoping…

Like mah buddy and partner in crime, I’m also working toward getting into school this upcoming (spring) semester.  Like her, the first digit in my age is a 3.  Like her, I’m aiming toward the local community college.  Like her, the biggest thing standing in my way in the past is the fact that even with a 3 in my age, I have no idea what I really want to do when I grow up.

More specifically, I’m afraid anything I DO in school will be aiming me toward something I don’t like after all.  At which point I’ll be stuck with something I dislike as well as saddled with the pile of debt it took getting there.

She has a direction she’s moving, something she’s going for, something…  I honestly think she’s going to do really well with.

I have the eternal indecision, where I’m telling myself to go the safe route, or go the easy route, or not take chances, risks or anything else and just give up.

Currently I’m researching starting the nursing track.  PVCC has a good (though intense) program which you can use to either leave after 2 years with your RN or use their handshake agreement with UVA to slide into the nursing program there.  I wouldn’t likely meet the requirements to start that program in the Spring, I’d need at least a semester to get myself caught up with the requirements before entering the program.  (Also, I still don’t know if I could start in the spring, or if the program requires a fall start date.)  Either way, it works out.  It’s also the safe choice.  Nursing is a field I can pretty much guarantee I’ll be able to find employment in.  It’s hard, but it’s not too hard.  I’ve worked as a hospital volunteer in the past (candy striping all through high school) and I enjoyed working in a hospital environment, particularly the oncology floor.  Wanting to be an oncology nurse would also likely make me more hireable.  People want to deal with babies, not with the fact that you’re around people who die.

It’s the safe choice, and… it’s not a bad one.

It’s just not a choice which excites me…  Should I even be worrying about being excited about a future career at this point?  Or should I just be doing it because… enough with the slacking already.

Then there’s the hard choice… the scary choice.  I love history and languages.  I love doing research.  I love going off on power rants about Mesopotamian religion (I’m currently playing Planescape…  Ishtar is listed as being NG and living on Elysium.  I call bullshit), or waxing poetic about my love of the Epic of Gilgamesh (I love it.  I can’t help it.)  The history of the Middle East, specifically Fertile Crescent-era, is a series of awesome building on awesome.  (Seriously, did you know that the first record of someone writing in the first person was En-hedu-ana, a priestess of Inanna/Ishtar.  Girl pride!)  I want to learn more.  I want to read Babylonian.  I want to learn to speak Farsi.  And…  while I can do that here (UVA being a major university and all) it’s… risky.  Future employment will likely be solely in the academic world (unless I want to get a job with the gubmint doing translations or something) which is…  scary competitive.  Additionally, I would likely be in school at least 8 years before becoming employable with it.  And…  I’m afraid I’m just not smart enough.

This is likely not aided by the fact my sister in law is a super-genius Harvard PhD student in a quasi-related field.

Hi, my name is Marianne, and I have an inferiority complex.  I also sometimes hate David for encouraging me to take risks, to try, to potentially fall flat on my face.

Ugh, I just don’t know.  I’m so good at talking myself out of things, out of risks specifically, and just curling up in a ball of DO NOT WANT and..

You know what, I’m just talking myself in circles and not resolving anything on my end.  I’m just going to end this now.

Zen and the Art of Baking Bread

I’m uncertain if my current leanings are more toward domesticity or cheap’ery.

I’ve been trying to walk a fine line of balance with my spinning between “I spin enough I’m actually making progress” and “omg, I don’t want to run out of roving to spin!” which leaves me with alternatingly large and small amounts of time on my hands.

This past week (and a half-ish), it’s been bread.  Specifically, 4 loaves worth, though one was barely touched before finding a home in the garbage bin (not trying THAT one again…  bread isn’t supposed to taste/have the texture of rice cakes, is it?)

But I should backtrack.

I frequently follow Apple’s Quick Time movie trailers site for upcoming releases.  (Shh, this relates, I sware!)  While there are many things about Charlottesville I love, it’s movie theaters isn’t one of them…  Mainly I keep an eye out for big releases which will hit the big screen here, and more interesting things which likely won’t.   Well, a few years ago, I saw a trailer for a movie called How to Cook Your Life.  (Link to the trailer here, btw.)  It looked interesting and amusing, and so David and I made mental notes to keep an eye out for it.

Fast forward a couple years, we see it on the ‘to buy’ shelf at Barnes and Noble, so… we take a leap of faith and buy it.  It’s not quite what you expect from the trailer, but it’s still an interesting documentary.  But, like many documentaries, you see it once and it lives on your shelf for a while.

We also have issues with bread in this house.  Namely, we’re pretty blah on the store stuff, and so David’s the only one who has sandwiches reglularly…  We end up wasting a lot of bread.  So I get the great idea I’m gonna make some.

David sends me a link he wants me to try.  It’s to NYT (Almost) No-Knead Bread.  Essentially, you replace kneading with time to process the gluten, and let it sit overnight before cooking.  And it was… okay.  It wasn’t a great loaf, it had a weird gummy-ish texture once it was stored, but it was okay.  Second attempt at the recipe yielded the aforementioned rice cakes.

But there’d been something naggling in my head for a while…  since watching that Documentary, in fact… The Tassajara Bread Book.  And since we were in the area snagging icecream after dinner, and I had the failed remainder of a loaf of bread weighing heavily on my mind, I snagged it.  On Monday, to celebrate the three-day weekend, I made the mother recipe, a whole wheat, yeasty loaf which is dense, but not heavy, and fills you up faster than you realize.  If a pint of Guiness is a loaf of bread in a glass, then a slice of this bread is a glass of Guiness.  (I even substituted in 2 cups white flour because I know normal whole wheat is a bit too much like eating 2×4s for me).

It’s pretty damned awesome curling up on a wet and dark morning, with a slice of bread, lightly toasted and smothered in apple butter.  If for nothing else, that makes it totally worth it.

On Borders

So, I co-write a WoW-blog.  We average ~3000 hits per week.   That doesn’t take RSS Reader numbers, and likely includes several “multi-visits” on post days from our more frequent commenters.  However, we do have some (small) level of fame and a following.

We also make no secret our character names, home server, faction, and guild.  Hell, we include links when we make posts begging for raiders.  We also include links to guildie’s blogs, and they often link to their armory.

We’re easily traceable.  And our guild has a Friend & Family rank.  We’ve had readers roll on our server to say hi, to level alts, and even join our guild.

Now, our guild is a chatty, social bunch.  You could say we put the “fun” in “dysfunctional” and that wouldn’t be far from the truth.  Our guild locks most of our fora, but anyone who is guilded can access most of it, including stuff like the thread which has a repository of facebook links.

Yesterday, I got an email alert from Facebook:

Hi Marianne,

<name> added you as a friend on Facebook.  We need to confirm that you know <name> in order for you to be friends on Facebook.

<name> says, “<charactername> – social guildie, devoted fan of snarkcraft!”.

Thanks,
The Facebook Team

And I had to sit there and stare.  My first reaction:  Who the hell is <name>?  My second reaction: Who the hell is <charactername>?

I consider myself pretty open and honest about my identity online, however I do have pretty firm boundaries between what I consider to be Jov-the-blogger and Marianne-the-person.  Yes, it’s probably very easy to use Google to determine my frequently-used non-Jov webhandle.  It’s uncommon enough that a search on THAT will likely net you another handful of things I do separate from Snarkcraft.  But just because you can FIND it doesn’t give you access to it.

I mean, yes, you could probably guesstimate and find this blog, but I keep this pretty bland.  You can’t access (for example) the flocked posts on LJ, or my wedding pictures on Facebook.

Which brings us back to the original topic.  That is a border for me.  If I don’t know who you are, and don’t know who your character is, even though you’re a Friend/Family member of the guild I’m in, I’m not comfortable adding you to my Facebook.  The information is there for guildies, the ones I actually talk to, or at least know something about.  I know their jobs, or lack thereof.   I know, regionally at least, the part of the country they’re in.  I might have cellphone numbers, email addresses, IM handles…  There’s a mutuality born of being around them, talking to them, existing closely with them for over a year.

If you’re a non-commenting reader of Snarkcraft who joins the guild as a F/F member, but has zero presence in the guild itself (no posting, no commenting, never coming online or saying anything in gchat) you’re not someone I’m comfortable with letting in past that border.  You’re just coming across as kinda creepy and stalker-ish.

Brief (crafty) updates

My first batch of roving arrives sometime this week, or whenever USPS Priority Mail arrives.  I’m both terrified and excited.  And have (somewhat) jokingly requested Kaylan come spend some time with me next week to help me get going.  (So yes, the comment was a joke.  But if you want to come, we’ll totally put you up, feed you, entertain you, and talk fiber to you.  rowr.)

Also, EEEEEEE!  Spinning.  Finally using the wheel.  Even if I’m total failsauce at it (which I will likely be while I’m learning) it’s so awesome.

Also, I was totally doing a photo-doc of my baking of Judy’s birthday cake on Friday.  But it died due to the camera-battery gods.  (For the curious, I used these recipes for Yellow Cake and Chocolate Buttercream)  They were really simple, easy-to-make recipes.  I wasn’t 100% thrilled with the cake results.  It ended up pretty dense, possibly because I didn’t have cakeflour and used all-purpose instead.  But the flavor was good, even if the feel wasn’t quite right.  And the frosting… mmm chocolate buttercream.  I could devote an entire post to my love of chocolate buttercream.  Best thing about baking a cake is “cleaning up” the frosting when you’re done.

omnomnom.

Well, here’s a linky to the pictures I did get.  Camera died after the actual assembly of ingredients for the cake, but before (well, during, but I’m out of batteries) the frosting was compiled.  So no finished product.  (Which is just as well… I’m much more good at tasty than I am at pretty, and it was a really messy icing job.)

Life after WoW

So, I’ve “canceled” my WoW account.  Which sounds a lot more doomy and gloomy than it really is…  What I really mean is I’ve canceled my recurring subscription.  Partially because I’m paid through September.  Partially because I’m on a 6-month recurring and holy cow that’s a lot of money for us at a time right now.  Partially because I have a gamecard which will see me essentially to the end of the year.  Partially because I don’t know when the card runs out what our finances will be like and what kind of block of time to afford.  And partially because I’m burning out.

Angst and whining after the break.  Read at your own risk.

Thinking is dangerous, m’kay?

So, my Snarkcraft partner-in-crime poked me with an idea a couple weeks ago that’s been rolling around in my head ever since.  And because I totally suck at decision making, I’m gonna open up the floor to discussion via the loverly comment button below.

Apparently, I have an interesting perspective on books, specifically YA books, as witnessed by the comments to this post.

While I’ll never be another SBTB, she feels I would make an interesting reviewer.

This, though I’m too poor to have a good, steady supply of books, and my reading tends to go in bursts.  Sometimes YA, sometimes Romance, sometimes Fantasy, and sometimes online manga scans.

And also, any who’s checked my activity on Goodreads knows I don’t usually ever get around to doing the review part that the site wants, anyway.

Also, this will make Blog #3 that I write or co-write, and this from someone who never considered herself much of a writer (or wanted to do that much writing) to begin with.  wth

So, thoughts from the masses?  Good idea or doomed to failure?  Would you even be interested in going through my current shelves to hear me snark/rave on the YA genre?

New project

So, while in California visiting my family in June, I espied a box sitting in the corner of my room.  Inside, an unfinished spinning wheel kit.

My memory is crap; mom says we ordered it (my idea/request) shortly before I moved.  I…  have to take her word for it, I don’t remember anything about it, but I’ve always wanted to learn to spin.

Well, either way, it was mailed back to Virginia and arrived shortly before my birthday.

kit

Kinda overwhelming in pieces like that.  We picked up the stain and finishing, and have been slowly working on it over the past month.  This weekend, we finally took the final steps and assembled it (because we were tired of it taking up the back-half of our dining table, where it’s been hanging out for the various “cure” stages.)

But!  I thinks it looks awesome!

ta-dah!

Whee!  It’s awesome.  Well-made, too, if the difficulty of fitting some of the pieces together is any indication.  It still needs some oiling in parts.  Project of the moment: learning to treadle.

It’s actually a lot harder than you would think to tap your foot like that.  I’m both excited and terrified at the prospect of needing to add stuff in my hands to it, too.

The Story I’d Like to Read

Warning:  Rambles

Okay, so the library is sometimes my friend.  Most of the time, however, it’s just reading filler, as the stuff available tends to be old and…  not exactly to my taste.

Which sucks, cause we’s po’.

Well, currently I’m reading a book, and I can’t say I really like it.  The writing isn’t bad, but several things just don’t sit quite right to me.

It’s nominally a romance/fantasy hybrid (released by Luna, for those who that means something.  Essentially, it’s the “fantasy” arm of Harlequin Romance.) but the sex is fade-to-black, and the romance is…  non-existent.  I’m sorry, but “I think you’re hawt.”  “I think you’re hawt, too, wanna fuck?”  *implied sex, but it’s entirely fade-to-black’d*  That’s not romance to me.  Granted, the romance is probably ACTUALLY gonna come from some other guy brooding in the background, but currently the main character is just coming across as a ho.

It’s a fantasy about white horses who are actually god/angelic beings and their riders.  I’m sorry, for all the issues I have with Mercedes Lackey’s writing, she just does that better.  She does.

All the riders are men.  They have to be because that’s how it’s always been.  Even though these god-like horse beings choose their riders with a psychic “calling” from all over the world.  Then the riders get to the school, and have to do a lot of tests to make certain that these gods picked the right people and dragged them out there for a month-long hike are right for them.  The graduating class is picked by men.  So the horses are gods, but they totally don’t know who their riders should be, so they leave that to a bunch of guys.  This is my cognitive dissonance face.  I’m totally not taking you seriously here.

So the main character is a chick.  Who gets a calling.  Which is stressed repeatedly and at great length never happens.  Ever.  But it’s okay, she can cut her hair and totally pretend to be a boy, and fight with the boys on their terms because she’s totally a tomboy and doesn’t like being a girl anyway.  RAWR CHICK PRIDE.

*headdesk*

WHY is this classified as a romance if the only sign of “romance” is the tell-not-show of “Oh I’m totally in love with Mr Dark and Brooding and that sucks!  I’ll hop into bed with hawt barbarian prince instead.”

WHY does she pick the White Horses are Superior Psychic Godlike Beings if she can’t pull it off at least as well as Misty Lacky.  Or hell, just say to herself “hey, this is something that’s already been done.  There’s like a million Valdemar books already” and not try and take advantage of the large, fanatic fanbase.

WHY do these superior beings need random-ass old guys to pick their riders for them if they’re actually gods in control of fate and destiny?

WHY does a heroine only get to be strong and go on adventures if she pretends to be a boy, and IS PRACTICALLY A BOY ANYWAY?

I think it’s the last point that gets to me more, primarily because it’s less an issue with the story specifically, and more something that is endemic to the genre.  But wouldn’t the story have been more interesting if, leaving everything else the same, it was the story of a girl going to the school and fighting her way in without sacrificing being a girl to do it?

This doesn’t have anything to do with girl pride rawr, or the like.  But the minute you embrace the stereotype “girl fights her way into mens club by pretending to be a man, cause she’s boyish enough to pull it off anyway” the plot circles around the lie.  Lies get caught, so the questions become “when will she be unmasked” dun dun DUN.  It also reduces the impact of the character because..  she’s living a lie.  There’s dishonesty there, and the lie cheapens your aims.

If you achieve your dream, but have to lie to do it, does it still count?

But “pretending to be a boy” makes for fluff because it avoids addressing the harder questions.  It’s the easy route.  It’s been done before (it’s also been done by Mercedes Lackey in her Free Bards series…  I’m sensing a trend).  It’s BORING.

I’m not putting the blame here on Harlequin/Luna.  Sure, they published/released it.  But the author wrote it.  She wrote it using tropes established 20 years ago by another author.  She wrote it using stereotypes and avoiding anything which would make it an actual interesting read.  She wrote it because it would make money.

Bleh.

Sweet Cream Scones

Yes, two scone recipes.  This one’s flavor is pretty different from the other, however.  I occasionally use it for breakfasts (though I don’t usually do any of the fruit/chocolate additions I do to the buttermilk, as that makes it super-sweet) but primarily, it’s Shortcake.  I used this for my strawberry shortcakes for the 4th and they were all devoured in an instant.

Classic Sweet Cream Scones

2 c all purpose flour

1/4 c granulated sugar

3 tsp baking powder

1/8 tsp salt

1/3 c unsalted butter, chilled

1/2 c heavy (whipping) cream

1 large egg

1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract (as always, the real stuff)

Preheat oven to 425, and line a baking sheet with parchment or a silicon lining.

In a large bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, powder, and salt.  Cut the butter into small cubes and squish through the mixture until it has the texture of breadcrumbs or cornmeal.

In a small bowl, combine the cream, egg, and vanilla.  Add the wet ingredients to the dry and mix until just combined.

Seperate the batter into icecream-scoop sized balls and ball in your hand, then place on the baking sheet and flatten slightly.  You’re aiming for something roughly as round as your palm, and approx 1-1 1/2 inch thick.  Place them, spaced, on the pan as they will spread slightly in baking.

Bake 13-15 minutes, or until just golden.  Let cool at least 5 minutes before serving.  Let cool to room temperature if you plan on using them as shortcakes.

Thoughts on privacy

One of the things I have the most difficulty with when posting here is determining the level of privacy I want to maintain.  I mean, if you’re really wanting to poke around, you can find my full name, my husband’s name, my current residence (at least as far as city goes) etc.  Generally speaking, I’m not terribly hard to stalk.  I count on the fact that I really don’t provide any meaningfully interesting reasons to want to do so.

Well, I can bake.  But otherwise, I’m a pretty prickly individual most days.

But otherwise, I’m pretty open about “who I am” on the internet (well, except for stuff like including a facebook link in my wow blog).  For whatever reason, that doesn’t really trigger my privacy bells.

The important stuff, personal stuff about me, what I do and the like doesn’t really get covered, however.  I’m not certain why…  I said (to myself, at least) from the beginning that this wasn’t just going to be an outlet for my whining, or angsting about personal stuff.

I… don’t know why, however.  I mean, I kinda know why.  I have certain things compartmentalized in little boxes with labels like “that’s boring” or “that’s no one’s business”

It may be boring, but so are my character write-ups.  It doesn’t stop me from posting them.

It may not be anyone’s business, but neither is my recipe for porkchops, but that doesn’t stop me from sharing.

I think everyone reading this, however, is pretty active online in their own ways, so I’ll turn theses questions to you:

How do you determine your preferred level of privacy in your blog (or other online outlet)?  What are your yes and no columns?  What is kosher to discuss, and what is never handled?

What are you interested in from me?  Do you want peeks into my boring box?  My day-to-day?  My stuff I would probably whine about if I didn’t actually have an audience?

In which I hate my own race

I’ve ranted about this in several places, now, but damnit, I’m gonna do it again.

This is Thomas (I don’t care what the site says, he’s totally a Thomas).  Thomas has been in our neighborhood at least as long as we have (so 2 years).  He’s always been sweet, friendly, ready to greet you when you’re trying to bring in the groceries…  Tall, lithe, (apparently) healthy.  Talkative and always ready to get some cuddles.

Thomas was at our front door begging when Judy and David came home with groceries yesterday.  This was somewhat in the realm of normal, he’s a huge slut-cat.  They stopped him from following them inside (which was not normal) and continued about their business.

30 minutes later, we investigate the drama in the living room.  Thomas is at our front window, and Boo is going apeshit and punching the window with all her might.  Again, not normal, but expected enough, we shoo him off, continue about our business.

Sweeping about an hour or two later, this noise I’ve been hearing really gets to me and I look outside the front door.

Thomas is still there, still begging.  NOT normal.  I take a closer look; he’s emaciated.  You can see his skull, his spine, and his ribs clearly through his fur.

I flip the fuck out (it was kinda a flip the fuck out day for me anyway, but this time I feel at least justified).  I yell for David.  I yell for Judy.  They all take a closer look at him, they all agree that, while he’s always been a pretty skinny cat, this was waaaaaaaaaay beyond normal.

We discuss our options.  I don’t want to feed him, we have 4 cats and I don’t want him getting used to always hitting us up for food (it causes our cats to spaz, mainly) but I can’t ignore the fact that he’s fucking starving to death right in front of me.  I end up giving him a small handful of kibble (he’s starving, I don’t want to give him too much which will cause him to lose it all anyway) and he just sits there purring, trying to get pets and suck down the food as quickly as he can all at the same time.  I’m crying my eyes out because he’s so sweet, and I’m so FUCKING PISSED OFF at whoever caused him to be in this position.

We couldn’t just ignore it, we decided to call the SPCA to see if we could take him in.  All the while, the three of us are loving on him.  So David calls, explains that we’d totally be all over adopting him, but have FOUR already, but he’s starving.

He walks into the box.  He’s so fucking happy to have someone, he fucking walks into the cat carrier.  And we take him to the SPCA.

We don’t know who his owner is/was.  He’s always just been around, and always generous enough with his affection that you couldn’t point a finger and say “that’s his favorite.”  We only know there’ve been about 4 moves out of our neighborhood in the past month.  He’s social and people-oriented enough that we know he’s not a stray-stray.  We think either whoever owned him moved in this past month, and he’s been trying to fend for himself, or he was abandoned much longer ago, and whoever was feeding him (which, hello, responsibility) moved and he was left on his own.

WHY THE HELL DO PEOPLE FEEL CATS WILL BE OKAY IF THEY’RE ABANDONED TO FEND FOR THEMSELVES?!

“Oh, cats can hunt…”  No they can’t, at least not really.  Your cat brings in a bird, you can be pretty certain it’s a fledgeling which fell out of the nest as a natural course of learning to fly, or a bird which got dazed after smashing into a window.  And because of their environment, most of the time they think anything small and covered with fur or feathers is a TOY, not something you actually eat.  Yeah, they’ll kill it (eventually), but they won’t know what to do with it afterwards.

Animals aren’t statues, or stuffed animals, or people.  They’re living, breathing, feeling creatures.  When you take responsibility for one (feeding/owning), you have a RESPONSIBILITY to ensure it’s continued well-being.  If circumstances occur which make you unable to continue meeting that responsibility, it’s FUCKING SELFISH AND STUPID for you to assume you don’t need to do anything to help them.  It doesn’t make you a bad person to admit things have changed and you can’t deal with them, as long as you handle it like a fucking adult.

Take your pet to the SPCA/Animal Shelter.  Give it a fucking CHANCE.  Don’t fucking assume everything will be sunshine and roses and you can just abandon your responsibilities to another fucking living being.

And to whoever abandoned Thomas: a huge fuck you.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200.  FUCK YOU.

And, randomly, if anyone in the Charlottesville area comes across this through the tag search, as of 7/3/09, the C-ville SPCA has an awesome, sweet, loving black cat who will be up for adoption 7/14.

Rar

And continuing the overdose of family-time… I’m gonna be flying to California in the buttfuck AM Tuesday, so I’ll be only potentially online until next Tuesday… sometime.