So tonight I was biking home from the Paramount on a walk that many of you have been on and thus can probably picture the setting in your little kosslynish heads. I'd just gone to see a cool movie which I will not elaborate about here, because I don't want to be associated with saying a movie was "cool" that most people will find extremely lame. This is because you are dumb. Anyway, the point of this story is that I said toodles to the fine people who were watching it with me, and went on my little biking way.

At the first stop light, there were of course the typical "it's Friday night (well, early Saturday morning) and I'm a lonely and pitiful excuse for a human being" whistles and hollers. Whatever. I can ignore these people. At the next stop light there are more of these types of jibes, and I just keep rolling my eyes.

So I continue biking and a car pulls up next to me. It's stuffed with five or six guys my age, with three of them practically falling out of the window, and the car slows down to match my speed exactly so they can harass me for a longer period of time.

This is when the subject line comes in. If I had a screwdriver on me right then, I woulda touched it against their car with one hand and slammed on the brakes with the other. SCRRAAATCH. Unfortunately I doubted that I could get my keychain off from around my neck into a scratching-potential position quick enough, so didn't have that option.

Anyway, this is when a cop car pulls up behind them. I brake a little and slow right down. If they plan on matching my speed, it's going to be obvious to the car behind us. So they're faced with a choice. I watch their tires (groundviewing!) and notice that they're about to speed up. One last chance to make a comment or say something, but I'm at a loss for words. Damnit, the great witty remarks never come when I need them to!

So I do the next best thing.

Interlude: I'm not a gum chewer. I have enough habits between my caffeine addiction and OCness that I don't have a need for gum. However when my internet broke (*twitch twitch*) a little while ago (*twitch*) I bought a pack of gum to occupy myself while I wandered the house in absolute loss. It seemed to work for drug addicts, smoking addicts, whatever addicts, so why not for me? Anyway, once we finally got the internet back I had some gum left. So for whatever odd reason, at that moment in time, I was uncharacteristically chewing gum.

So I spat it into their car.

Alright, probably not the brightest idea in the world. But it certainly seemed like a good one at the time! Unfortunately, it didn't land on anyone's forehead. This is probably the first time in my life that I've actually spat gum, so I didn't have the aim thing very practiced, but it did land on the seat, just as they pulled away.

Mwahaha!

Okay, it's a stupid childish victory, but it felt like a victory anyway. And that's the end of my story. Go do something else now.

So people often come to me to seek my advice and counsel about a variety of topics. From how they include comments on their blog, to where a good place is to hide bodies, to who is cuter between Craig Parker and Famke Janssen. These are all good questions, but I don't know why the hell you're asking me.

But people ask me these sorts of questions all the time. Apparently I'm a wealth of useless information. Useful?, no sorry, can't help you. But if you need to know how many people are killed each year from coconuts (150; more than sharks) or how many people have visited a tortilla chip in new mexico that apparently has the face of jesus burned into it (over 11,000...and no, I'm not making this up) then I'm your person!

Anyway, one of these questions that tends to come up a lot is "Catsy, what's going to happen to me? What am I going to do with my life?" People seem to be worried about their future or something, which is odd, because obviously once I've taken over the world they're not exactly going to get a choice about what is happening in their future, so their worrying is pointless. But since enough people have been asking this recently, I figure that I might as well do my part (it's like recycling) and give a bit of this information.

I've divided all of you into three categories. Every one of you fits into one of these three categories, and it will determine your fate.

I am a random. I'm visiting this site for the first time ever right now. I may have found this page from google trolling through the words "jesus" and "coconuts" above. - Well, I have a bit of bad news, Mr Random. You're going to be used to feed the cows. I figure that I'm probably going to keep eating burgers after I take over the world, but it's not fair to kill defenseless cows. So instead I'm going to create a breed of cows who eat humans, and then send them into the wild to eat most people. That way they can provide entertainment before they provide food. If, for some reason Mr Random, you escape these killer cows, the killer chickens will still get you.

I'm one of your old friends. We've laughed about stuff together and have shared stories and stuff. I've known you since you were young and have lots of funny stories about the odd things you've done in your life. - Bad news. The killer cows again. No way in hell you get to live. You know too much.

I absolutely worship the ground you walk upon! Every time I see your name on the screen I feel excited that the world has been so kind as to let me see just your name. I have already sworn my life to being your servant and may have been promised a country in exchange. - Well, I have bad news and good news. The good news is that you're not destined for the killer cows. The bad news is that the killer cows ate everyone, and now the chickens are hungry.

Well, that's your fate! Hope that you enjoyed this exercise as much as I did.

Now you can just sit back and relax and never have to worry about your future again. Because it's already been planned out for you. Enjoy!

Well, another one bites the dust. One more to go.

Wasn't a May 1st-style catastrophe, but made a bunch of mistakes. A few little ones, one I'm hoping no one will notice, and possibly a big one I don't wanna talk about until its confirmed or denied. :P On the plus side, it's raining!

Wait, that's not a plus side....goddamnit.

Lou nearly gave me a heart attack before my exam (grr). Oh, and I like shiny things. I'm tired and need a break for a day or so. I think my brain is turning off. Words more hard. No want think. Shhhh me sleep. Eyes close. Words go. Ble.

Hello friends, faithful readers, and psychopaths!

So I spent most of today battling an evil robot who was created when lightning struck my screwdriver which was sticking out of a mug that was previously filled with cherry tea, because that's where I decided to keep my screwdriver which has replaced my hammer in terms of "things I hold onto while I study". I don't know how this happened, nor do I really feel like talking about it, or the fact that I was chewing on scissors the other day. But one thing is for sure: if this month of exam season doesn't end soon, I may cry, kill someone, or bake brownies.

Anyway, my point is that I was busy battling this evil robot when suddenly it occurred to me: when you search google for flash movies swf on google, I'm on the first page. When you search for "alvin and the chipmunks" porn I'm number one. And when you search for mat137 utoronto guess who is number one again? No freakin' wonder we're being hounded by randoms. And just as I thought this, the evil robot crushed me because I was sitting around typing things into google instead of fighting him. Fortunately, I was using a decoy and she was crushed instead. Which is okay, because I think she's a bitch and an inferior stickcat in all ways.

What's the point of this story?
I like stories!

...I'm just a horrible liar.
One of those two sentences is false iff this one is also false.

One more exam to go. So they tell me. "They" are the little voices in my head which convinced me that it'd be a better idea to sit down and read over PDP-11 notes (big :P at Lao inserted here) than to go out and buy FFOrigins and play that all day (big :P at CPwr inserted here). Studying is one of those activities where it feels like the result is barely worth the effort invested. So I'll study for the next two days but probably make the exact same errors I would have if I hadn't studied, but because I'm going to make these errors, if I make them without studying then I'll feel infinitely guilty and thus I have to study just so that when I make them I can shrug and say "well, I tried". Grr.

And it's all cloudy out today. Today would be better spent curled up in my caffeine blanket making chocolate chip cookies and sitting on my beanbag chair infront of the tv wasting my life. That's what I want to be doing. I need a break. Even weekends disappear when you're in a study schedule. No wonder I keep going through so many bottles of coke. (No wonder Mud and I are discussing buying a coffee maker.)

meh

I'm not in a good study space. Discouraged by the results of previous exams, I can't even bring myself to be stressed about this one. "So I fail. Whatever, that would just soooo figure. It would fit so perfectly."

I'm allowed to whine as much as I want. Ha ha. And you're all going to read it, or at least skim through it, in hopes that maybe I'll stop whining eventually and get on to pseudo-humourous content. Nope. Not gonna happen. Whine whine whine! I'm tired. My head hurts. There's no time to make good food. I'm bored. I don't feel like working. I know this stuff already. I don't know any of it, I'm gonna do surprisingly horrible. My desk is a mess. I have a headache. I'm sleepy. Don't wanna be doing this stuff.

whine

Red sign, blue sign.

There are some people who believe that the universe was created with an element of predestination to it: that certain things are simply meant to happen, and that if one is closely enough in tune with the universe, that foreshadowings can be observed in the form of "signs" and that through these, one's destiny can be clearly mapped out.

Of course, there are some people who like to make fun of the above mentioned people by sending them postal mail with pieces of paper containing dates on them or random numbers. But of course, we don't know anyone immature enough to do that. And besides, who really believes videotape evidence anyway: that could have been any stickcat!

Anyway, I'm fortunately not one of the people mentioned two paragraphs up, or else I'd be spending all day today trying to read the little bits who-the-hell-knows-what sitting in the bottom of my coke glass, instead of doing past exams. But if I were horribly superstitious, my fate would still be ambiguous, as I've received mixed-messages today. Let's go over them together! (Yay! Field-trip!)

Pretty bad sign	I had dreams last night that I was failing an exam because I couldn't see my reflection in a mirror. This couldn't be a good sign.
Pretty good sign	Cal's recipe for samosas yesterday turned out to be really good! Yay! (No, I don't know what this has to do with academics.
Bad sign	I woke up this morning to Mud running as fast as she could for a 9 am exam. It was 8:40. It takes about 20 mins to get to campus. This couldn't be a good sign.
Very minor bad sign	I can't find my goddamn blue pen.
Great sign	This morning when someone asked me to explain a 258 concept to them, which I thought I was shakey on, apparently I know it really well. Pha. Go figure.
Really fucking bad sign	When doing a previous year's exam, I couldn't do the first question because I was goddamn reading it wrong.
Really fucking good sign	After that little hurdle, the exam took me 58 mins, and aside from one liiittle error that I assume I'd catch if I had two more hours with which to go over everything, I seemed to get everything right! Yay!
Fairly bad sign	I only did so well and so quickly because of the very particular details of the exam. Chances are poor that I'll be that lucky on the real one.
Kinda good sign	I found a really cool mp3 while searching for studying music which'll probably be featured in my next flash video. Well, it depends what the video is of and what mood I need. I now have an angry song, a mundane song, and a happy power-trippy song just waiting to be used.
Neutral sign	I'm hungry.
Bad sign	I'm really tired.
Good sign	Being tired means I'll go to bed earlier tonight which means getting up at 7 am for an exam won't seem so painful.
Bad sign	Exams have gone overall pretty crappily this term. I have no reason to believe this pattern will be broken.

Well.......by this time tomorrow I'll be done second year. Gulp!

So where did I go? Why am I not updating my blog for the next couple of days? Did my exam go so horribly that I went on a murderous rampage?!

I'm writing this entry to clarify all of these questions. No, I'm not not updating because the exam went so horribly that I went on a murderous rampage. Though I might have done that too. I dunno. It's 7 am right now, so the exam hasn't happened yet. Anyway, I'll let Ender and Daedalus explain why I'm not around, if anyone's curious. And I'll be back on Sunday.

Anyway, since I have nothing very exciting to say today because I'm too busy thinking about my exam in a few hours, I'm going to use this "empty day" to point out the main reason why this year of undergrad was an absolute failure:

No mortal enemies.

What kind of year involves no new arch-nemeses?! (And no, to those who offered suggestions, neither the cgi people nor my lab partner nor my logic TA count - they were all far too mild to be worthy of being enemies in my book.) If my life is going to be an exciting movie, it needs growing conflicts, damnit, and without enemies it's not going to be a very exciting movie, is it? It can't even be a TV show without an enemy, except maybe one like Full House, but let's not even go there, okay?

Why didn't I find anyone worthy of my hatred this year? I know that I'm extremely picky about who has enough worth to end up on my hate list, but surely I can't be that picky. I don't even need someone who is evil. I don't mind being the evil counterpart to someone who is fighting for the forces of good. Where are all my angry opposites?

Damnit, this really pisses me off. Who the hell am I supposed to crush into tiny little angry bits? I haven't ruined anyone's life this year. This isn't like me! Where's the psychological torture going?

Yes, for this reason, I consider this year to have been a failure.

Perhaps next year I'll have to work harder at pissing people off.

Kinda, sorta, almost on topic.

I'm back! I know that everyone missed me because the logs show a lot of back-entry reading, not a lot of comments, and a lot of super bizarre search-engine searches that got randoms here. Well, I'm not really sure what the last has to do with people missing me...but you certainly couldn't expect me NOT to comment about the fact that someone got here by searching google for "vaccuum cleaner on my .... wait, you know what? I just decided that I'm going to spare the group from this person's little internet escapade.

Anyway, back from Ottawa: our nation's capital. Home to Beaver Tails and a stand in the market that sells really great maple sugar candy. And some other political stuff I think, but I can never remember what. The Ottawa trip was of course to see Ender and Daedalus get married and gush about how cute they are together.

And it was also an amazing way to start my (drum roll) summer vacation!! That's right! Exams are over. The results will be in shortly. There will be tears and hissy fits and possibly bombings, but the point is that I no longer have to store in my brain the difference between basilects and acrolects. FLLUUUSH! Bye bye information. Buhbye now!

Are you sure you want to shut down your brain?
[Ok] [Cancel]

It is now safe to turn off your brain.

I'm gonna go sleep. Why? Because I can!

So this damn Rubik's Cube is driving me goddamn insane. I can make a solid side of any colour in about 15 seconds. I can make a solid side of any colour and a eight-of-nine side simultaneously in about 60 seconds. And I can make two solid sides in about 3 minutes. But of course, this isn't how one should solve a Rubik's Cube: I'm aware that I'm doing it wrong.

(
When I was eight I removed all the stickers from my Rubik's Cube and replaced them such that it was solved. This was fun for about a day, and then stopped being fun.

And when I was eleven I took one apart with a screwdriver and then put it back together solved. This was fun for about an hour, and then stopped being fun.

And when I was fifteen I found a website explaining how to solve it. This was fun while it lasted, and then stopped being fun.

Two years ago I wrote a program to solve a Rubik's Cube for me. You gave it the current position and it explained what to do in order to complete it. But that turned out not to be fun beyond writing the program, either.

And I'm still not having fun with it.
)

Anyway, this weekend I'm redoing my online store. If you have any ideas for things you'd like to see on sweatshirts, t-shirts, boxers, mugs, caps, aprons, tote bags, messenger bags, backpacks, teddy bears, baseball jerseys, golf shirts, long sleeve t-shirts, tank tops, hooded sweatshirts, fleece pullovers, thongs, underwear, night shirts, infant t-shirts, infant creepers, bibs, toddler button-up hoodies, large mugs, steel travel mugs, frosted mugs, steins, tile coasters, tile boxes, mousepads, wall clocks, lunchboxes, flying discs, picture frames, black caps, ski caps, stickers, bumper stickers, calendars, greeting cards, postcards, posters, lincense plate frames, or briefcases.......now's your chance. All ideas are very strongly encouraged and welcome.

...So that I can then proceed to ignore them.

Hm, it's 23:42. I know what that means! Time for me to come up with something to talk about on insanecats for all you midnight updaters. Fortunately, I actually have something of some substance to talk about today, not just random yammerings. Ha ha ha. I'm just kidding, of course. Of course it's random yammerings; you are visiting insanecats.com, afterall.

So today we're going to talk about a very important topic: opening movie nights.

Waiting in line on opening night for SW:E2

As some of you are probably creepily-very aware, the second Matrix movie is opening today. I'm not sure when movies started opening on Wednesdays, I thought this was firmly established as a Friday-only kind of thing. Apparently I was wrong. (Yes, I know; it shocks me too. But it happens sometimes.)

Scary!

There's something quite "special" about movie opening nights, unlike any other event except maybe sci-fi conventions, which I've heard are quite similar. For some reason, people really really really like dressing up for opening nights. Last year we went to the second Harry Potter movie on the opening night and I actually felt out of place for not wearing a costume. And it was a late showing! I'm not talking about seven-year-olds who think that dressing up is "cool", here. I'm talking about 40-year-olds who are sitting all alone with two empty seats on either side of them, dressed up as Harry, eating a big tub of popcorn all to themselves. (Note: the last item in the list wasn't meant to be an insult. I certainly can eat a big tub of popcorn all to myself, and think lowly of anyone who can't. The rest, however, was.)

Make it stop!

I don't even try for LotR opening nights. You know why? Because they're too over-populated with elf-ear wearing weirdoes! The midnight showing of LotR is too scary, even for me. So I go the next day. And even the next day there are still crowds of people wearing capes.

I think that maybe this is just an excuse to wear a cape. Secretly, everyone wants to be able to wear a cape in public. Some of us get our kicks at hallowe'en ('cept for this year; but we can't all be as cool as me and go as Tux for hallowe'en), and others get their cape-kicks from wearing it to the movies. That was my theory. But it wasn't simply a cape thing.

Ahhh!

Early pictures show that people are already dressing up like characters from the Matrix tonight to line up, even without a cape. Same with anyone who has been to the opening night of a star trek movie I assume, and same with star wars. So is this a sci-fi'ish type thing? To dress up like the movie you're about to watch? Does it happen with any other genre? I certainly don't recall seeing people dressing up like the Monsters Inc guys while lining up for that movie. No, I think this is quite possible that this is a sci-fi/fantasy/super-hero/whatever specific event.

These people frighten me. I must admit it. Although I kinda wish I had their level of obsessiveness to some degree, what really scares me is how it's impossible to tell the people who are giggling from the fact that they're dressing up like Harry Potter and that's kinda goofie, from the people who are giggling from the fact that they're dressed up like Harry Potter and think that they are Harry Potter and think that it's funny that other people in the theatre are dressed up as them.

Ewww, get off my screen!

In conclusion, I think that opening nights are fun, because you get to laugh at all the weirdoes and be glad that you're not them: "I also would like to point out to the group that his name is pronounced 'Keleborn' not 'Celeborn' *snort*" (damn, I hate that guy from my sci-fi class last term...well, two terms ago now).

And no, for those wondering, the Matrix isn't real, there was no Lord of the Rings, there is no Hogwarts, there is no race of Vulcans, Princess Leia is not going to sleep with you, and you are not going to be bitten by a spider and become Spiderman! You will, however, become Batman.

So I went to see the Matrix at 11 pm yesterday night. Despite the temptation to comment about it, I don't want to ruin it for anyone and the fake giveaways thing has already been done. So instead I'm going to comment about the dude sitting next to me: Scary Single Guy, hereafter referred to as SSG. So SSG isn't wearing a pleather outfit, which is more than I can say for lots of people in the theatre, and isn't wearing Matrix-shades, again which is quite common in the theatre. He actually is fairly normal looking, compared to many people there, and doesn't seem unusual except for the fact that he's alone. But whatever.

Turns out that he's super creepy. He was getting just a liiiiiiittle too involved in the movie. It started with just laughing at jokes slightly longer than the rest of the theatre. Then it moved on to him punching the air during the fight scenes. Which then led to him moaning audibly during the Zion-orgy. That's when SSG became officially creepy. When Neo was trying to walk quietly, SSG was whispering "shhh" to himself. When the characters ducked, he ducked. He nodded when the characters nodded.

What's with these people?? Why are there the SSGs of the world who latch on to a movie and then become it? Why do they come to the theatre where I'm trying to enjoy a movie? And most importantly: why do they sit beside me?

Now I have to go see the movie again so that I can watch it without focusing more on SSG than the screen.
(Yeeeeah, good excuse Catsy....let's go with that......)

This is a photo of a stickcat holding a cake with candles. Sadly, there are so many that it's too bright to see anything. The recipient knows themself.

Well, the year is officially over for this stickcat. Marks have been posted, and the second year of university has had it's official little "done!" seal planted on it. Nothing remains but the summer.

So what the hell am I going to complain about?

* How I feel about my grades?

* Things so creepy that they just make me want to cry?

* The fact that I have too much time on my hands?

* Free jellybellys? (Okay, no, this doesn't quite fit in with the list of "So what the hell am I going to complain about?"s, but since I'm including a bunch of links I figure I might as well point out to everyone that you can get free jellybellys from this webpage. I've ordered them about ten times now. Really works. Oh yeah.)

* Having to wait until December to see the third LotR?

* People whose very existance frightens me?

Well, yes. I will probably complain about all of the above, and a whole lot more! And you can only get this massive supply of rantage HERE, on insanecats! So get your "shift-reload" triggers ready, because we have a whole damn summer of rants coming your way!

Here's a special sneak preview of some of the fun you can expect all summer long!

So the back of my foot has been bleeding for a week now. Why? Did one of my enemies try to slash my tendon and failed miserably? I wish. That would make a great story. Nope. It was this fucking pair of sandals. Cut deep into the back of my foot and then of course I decided it would be a great idea to walk around in shoes that rubbed against the cut for a whole week until my sock was drenched in blood today. Who the hell designs shoes that have the ability to cut deeply into your flesh like that? What the hell is wrong with these people? And what kind of messed up freakjob ignores the fact that her foot has been bleeding all week? And can I just say "OW!" Grrrr.

So sit back, relax and enjoy, as we have a whole damn summer ahead of ourselves and you people don't seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

"Why are you so angry and cynical?"
"What do you mean?"
"All I'm saying is...you put people on your 'hate' list fairly quickly."

What the hell are you talking about? My hate list contains only about a hundred million people. TOPS. And you know how many people there are in the world? More than a hundred goddamn million! The fact that it doesn't contain anything that moves is something that the world should be thankful for. It's not my fault that people keep doing things worthy of ending up on my hate list; maybe they should consider being less of a screwup. And I don't shove people there "fairly quickly", at least they end up on my "neutral" list by default. I could start everyone on the hate list and then force them to work their way up from there. Hmmm, that sounds like a potentially good idea...

Grumblemuttergrumblegrrrmuttermumblespitgrumblemutter...

The rumours are true. Catsy's hair has been cut short and dyed blonde. (Damnal may sob here.) "Why the hell would you do that?!", two people have already asked. And I've only been online since it happened for like...two hours maybe. Well...

Pre-today.	As of today.

Reasons:
- Long hair is a pain in the ass.
- It's summer. The summer is hot. This is easier.
- I can now spend all summer making it an assortment of funky colours.
- I've been meaning to do this for years.
- fLufFy did it first and it worked so well.
- To personally offend you.

So here's how this worked. I found out that my bike got stolen and that Lou was horribly ditching me for our dinner plans which meant that I had a bit of time on my hands. A perfect opportunity.

Stage 1: Cut it shortish to avoid bleach wastage
Grabbed a pair of child-safety scissors from my drawer, grabbed my entire ponytail with the other hand. SNIP! Gone.

Stage 2: Lighten
Feeling like a stupid girlyhead, out comes "Blondissima" (sheesh, could they make it sound any more girly?!) which is a hair dye simply to lighten dark hair to a shade that lighter hair dyes will stick. Using two mirrors and a bit of patience, manage to evenly get the gunk all in my hair and then sat around and watched TV for half an hour. Then rinsed it out. Got a "lightish brown" colour that was a little discouragingly dark. And each strand of hair was approximately ten times thinner than it had been half an hour prior. Wow, these chemicals really kill your hair. Cool.

Stage 3: Lighten more!
"Extra white" hair dye which promised that the results for "light brown" hair would be "light blonde". This of course means "yellow". Worth a shot. This chemical is a lot stronger and I get a nice stinging feeling for an hour while I watch TV. La la la. Rinse.

Stage 4: Look in the mirror a lot
"Golden". That's the colour-description we agreed upon. "We" being myself, CPwr and fLufFy who just arrived to help with Stage 5. The fact that I naturally had a very slight amount of red in my hair made the "yellow" be more of a "golden". Which took a bit of getting used to, but I think I'm okay with it now. My only beef with this colour is the fact that it absolutely drains all colour out of my face. I'm either going to have to dye this bright pink shortly, or get some sun. But it certainly didn't fulfill its catastrophe pontential. Yay!

Stage 5: Cut a lot
Despite the shoulder-length hair snip that was in Stage 1, there was still a lot of hair to be cut. Here's where fLufFy's skill comes in. My chorus here was "more". And so more kept coming off.

Stage 6: Style
Now I was worried about the fact that my hair has a tendency to curl when wet, so there was a high chance that once cut short (something that hasn't happened since I was born) it would turn into massive little tight curls, which I didn't want. Fortunately, it didn't. fLufFy did an award-winning styling job with turning it into a multi-layered spikey masterpiece. Yay!

Stage 7: Avoid mirrors
AHHH! That's not me! Who is that, looking at me? This is going to take some getting used to. Fortunately, it's astonishingly rapidly growing on me. And plus, the fact that it looks coolest when messiest is perrrrrrfect for my personality.

Yay. That has been your girly interlude. We apologize for this interruption.

...than biking to work. But I'd rather have the biking option than have my goddamn bike stolen. GRRR.

So with my bike stolen (again) I've decided to try out another method of transportation, as suggested by one of you: rollerblading. That's how I got to campus this morning, and then after my streetcar broke on the way home, that's how I got the rest of the way back here. There are a lot of significant differences between being a 'blader (all "bladder" jokes will be prosecuted) and a biker. And because I really like little lists, let's make one, shall we? YAY!

Pro-blade

• I already have blades. Cost:$0. I'd have to buy a bike. Again.
  
• Blades can't get stolen as easily. I take 'em with me. Bikes keep getting goddamn stolen. GRRRRR!
  
• Let's face it...bladers look cooler than bikers. I can't help it. Fact of life.
• Blading is better exercise than biking.
  
• Blading works better with my image. Biking, even extreme biking, is more lame. Because when you're swerving around cars, it doesn't look cool. It looks like you're an untalented biker.
  
• If a car tries to hit me, I have both hands free with which to scratch up their paint.

Pro-bike

• I can't stop on blades. This is especially a problem on streetcar tracks, yellow lights and when I'm about to be doored.
  
• I've become an expert at extremely biking, which is necessary in order to survive downtown transportation. I'm not sure I'll survive extreme blading.
  
• Biking to campus takes 20 mins. Blading to campus (as timed today) takes 35 mins.
  
• Blading fast freaking hurts. The front of the top half of my legs (used for biking) are nice and exercise-ready. The back of my calves (used for blading) are weak and ow-prone.
  
• I can't go faster than traffic on blades. Therefore I can't race cars. :(
  
• My bike has been loyal to me all year long...except for getting stolen...why should I ditch it now, in its time of need?

Overall I think the two strongest arguments on each side are:
Blading: image
Biking: not being able to stop on blades

Since safety is one of the big biking concerns and appearences is one of the big bladers' concerns. Yeesh. This is starting to feel like a ski versus snowboard debate. I think my conclusion is that I'm going to have to train a tiger to wear a saddle and run me to class and back. The pro would be that we could eat annoying people on the way there. The con would be......hmm.....I can't think of any.

Good! Well, that settles that debate!

Hello insanecatsers and welcome to a wonderfully silver rainy Saturday morning. Considering that I couldn't fall asleep until a little after 4 am, I should be deep in happy it's-rainy-outside sleep except I'm headed into work today and we're meeting in about an hour and a half from now and I don't have a bike to get there but I do have to and want to go both because today should be fun and because my little programming team alpha-force (self-named) all just got a $3/hr raise because we're so clever and efficient and death-defyingly cool and stuff.

I'm so tired I can barely type. So instead let me just find a link to something half of you will have already done but that will take you a good half hour to do so you'll think you got your money's worth out of the entry today. Then everyone can post their scores and then ramble about who is cooler or whatever you people do.

Do this or I'll hate you or not care

So my kitty is sick. Not Mota; Mota's fine. Kelly.

For those of you who can't keep my pets straight (why not? Haven't you been informed that I'm the most important thing in the universe?) Mota is Jason and Yuka's cat who we've adopted and who lives here with us. Kelly is the cat I've had since my childhood who lives with my parents (he needs a backyard to run around and kill birds in).

(Note for Graeme: no, this site isn't named "insanecats" because I'm obsessed about cats. It's named such for the name Catspaw)

Now I guess Kelly's pretty old for a cat. We got him when I was probably 9 or so and he was four weeks old, found outside the Humane Society on a stormy long-weekend, left in a stapled-shut paper bag. Even though he was supposed to be the family's cat, he very quickly became my cat and as a kitten wasn't anything at all like a cat is supposed to be: I taught him to jump through a little hoop I made in exchange for a treat, he would chase after foam balls down the stairs to our basement and then bring them back and drop them at my feet so we could play again, and he obeyed a series of whistles (come, get up and move, etc.) He also used to walk me a few blocks to school every morning and would wait around halfway home every afternoon to walk me back. We'd race home, such that the phrase "I'll race ya!" still makes him run home. Not cat-like at all. But also extremely cat like. An excellent hunter, even when he was fat (read: loved) enough for Ender to call him "the pillow with eyes". He also tortured my brother's dog when he got one a few years ago.

So what's wrong with him? A combination of things, which looks like it began with a stroke a few weeks ago. My family's been giving me updates on the phone over exams, and it just sounded like he wasn't responding properly, was pretty tired all the time, etc. But I hadn't seen him until this weekend.

First of all, during the stroke he lost his sense of smell. Such that when I walked in, looking different, he didn't know who I was. Even when I picked him up and tried to pet him, he bit (he's never bitten me since maybe ten years ago) and then quickly limped away. It wasn't until I did our familiar "come" whistle that he came running back and started purring and rubbing my legs affectionately. Poor thing; he can't walk more than a few meters at a time and then has to lie down to recover. He's not allowed outside, which he's hating. And he's not eating very much. "He's not in a lot of pain", the vet decided, "but he's going to be in minor, dull pain for the rest of his life."

Super sucktastic.

So this morning (after some yummy fLufFy pancakes) I'm sitting at my computer doing normal sitting-at-my-computer stuff, and Mota jumps up on my lap, as is typical, scratches me a bit, as is also typical, and then spits out a dead mouse on my keyboard.

Awwwwww! She brought me a present!!
So naturally I pet her; I want to encourage this kind of activity. Killing mice is good. Bringing me offerings is also good. Then I print out a photo of the pres of Network Solutions and point to the photo, the mouse, pet her, the photo, killing motions, happy noises. I think she may have got the idea as on my way out to work this morning she was printing a map to netsol's head office.

If this works, taking over the world may have suddenly become a whole lot simpler.

Oh yeah, and fuzzy bunnies are nice.

We interrupt this entry for this brief geek-break

So here's a pile of computers that my workplace just inherited. Look how pretty!
Drool!


Drool!!


Drool!!!

We apologize for the interruption.

So today I fought a battle with a difficult opponent and won! Oh yes, very much so won. Mwahahahahaha.

A victory for Unix over Windows.
A victory for Python over VB.
A victory for open source over Microsoft.
A victory for me over other arrogant assholes.
A victory for Canada over the States.
A victory for chocolate chip cookies.

Yes...today was a day of victory that we can all celebrate. So I will. With this can of coke. Huzzah!

(PS: I think everyone technie-inclined should oooo and aaaaah at my fancy google-keyword-spidering avoidance technique)

Re the subject: it's so damn obvious, I'm not even going to talk about it.

So today's entry is about a really important topic: me.

Most specifically, my name.

Co-worker has been bugging me recently about how much he thinks I like cats. "She really has a thing for cats", he says, while introducing me to people. Now yes, I'm a cat person...but I'm certainly not some kind of cat freak. I like 'em, they like me, that's where it stops. And my name does not come from them.

"Then why does your stickfigure have cat ears and tail?", he asks.

Good question I guess....the stickcat came loooong after the name. Almost seven years after. Just like how "hamburger" was improperly deconstructed to be "ham-burger" and thus other words were appended to the front (like "veggieburger" and "chickenburger") so too was "catspaw" improperly dissected as "cats paw" and thus a cat theme somehow came out of this. Which was fine, because I mean I like to kill things, cats like to kill things. I like to play with my victims before eating them, so do cats. etc. I like to think of myself as a catbert. (But also, ironically a dogbert.)

The point, though, is that this isn't where Catspaw came from.

So where did it come from?

Couple of places. First of all, from here:

catspaw n. 1: A dupe; a tool; one who, or that which, is used by another as an instrument to a accomplish his purposes.

I found this to be incredibly ironic, because I was planning on using the rest of the world as my catspaws and because I was in a period of time when irony particularily appealed to me, I liked the name.

It also came from a novel.

Note that the main character's name is Cat, not Catspaw, so no, I am not naming myself after him.

And that, my little "why do you spend all day at work so don't update your website on a regular enough basis anymore?" friends, is the story of how this paw got her name.

SARS anyone? Sure, I'd love some, thanks! So due to Toronto's second wave of sarsis, we're getting a whole event of trying to promote the city as being a fun place to visit. For someone who lives in Toronto....this is great!! Free street concerts, cheap famous concerts, cheap games, street events, etc. Wow, keep the promotion coming!

So we're walking along Queen street and the first thing I notice is a huge Coke sign. This is not a coincidence: I've been trained over the years to detect Coke from a distance. It's an instinct now. Anyway, we walk over to the sign where they are giving out free Coke. Woo! Yes please!

Keep walking...a block or so later we cross the street to get free Juicy Fruit gum.

Keep walking, and then we stop to listen to a cool street concert they've closed down the street for, and get handed a bag full of candy by people walking around while we watch a dude on stilts hand out pamphlets for stuff.

Wow. A city trying to promote itself is cool! I get free stuff!

Also got my thinkgeek order today. Drool! New t-shirts (here and here), new sweatshirts (here and here), and a new poster, as well as goodies other people ordered too.

Lots of people complained "Hey! Why didn't you tell me you were ordering from thinkgeek! I would have put in an order too to save on shipping!". Sheesh, look, I already told half a dozen people, I didn't expect this to be so popular. But fear not: I've already found other stuff I want so will probably be putting in a second order later in the summer, so everyone in the Toronto area who wants to try Jolt Gum or has their eye on a certain blanket (you both know who you are) can let me know and we'll put in a massive order.

Yay, today is a good day. Eat snacky smores to celebrate.