Not exactly “Alien Vs Predator”

For Christmas, The Girl gave me a lovely gift.  One that would be considered to be a very odd gift by most normal people…. “Smithsonian Sea Monsters“.  A grow-yer-own critter lab in a clear plastic bucket.  She apparently has memories of our years as Sea Monkey ranchers when she was a shrimp, and thought it would make me happy. 

She was right.     

At some point over the holidays, i discovered an Executive Sea Monkey set that had been given to me as a house warming present.  At some other point over the holidays, we decided that the only civilized thing to do was to grow both sets of critters in parallel.  And fight them.    

It’s on, muthafuckahs…       

The Sea Monsters got a couple weeks headstart on growth, due to the need to buy a fresh pack of Sea Monkey eggs*.  The Boy will handle all wagering, of course.  The Girl will assure that all “events” are conducted under humane society guidelines** for shrimps — NOT to be confused with midget wrestling.     

My money’s on the Sea Monkeys.  While they may have a slight disadvantage in size, they make up for it in “cute”.  Sea Monsters ain’t got crowns…  

Sea Monkeys

Sea Monsters

 * Who knew?  Sea Monkey eggs don’t last more than a year.        

** Still looking for the guidelines for “Crustacean Cage Match”.        

 

“Lion King” to “Steel Magnolias”

My oldest sister, S, has a long history of ridiculous self-absorption. But she’s come a long way from weeping and wailing in hospital waiting rooms*.   In fact, during one of Mom’s previous procedures, S gave me enough blog fodder for a week….

Mom stayed with me over the weekend, and was moving slow.  She had pain in her legs, and i was pretty sure there was a blockage (or two) in the iliac arteries.  Again.  The angioplasty procedure has been done several times, and at least partially due to her diet**, her arteries have a tendency to continually re-clog. 

i had suggested a call to the cardiologist on Monday, and the lovely and completely edible Dr. Monica didn’t waste time.  She scheduled another angioplasty.  Waking up at the fuzzy, lint-encrusted butt-crack of dawn, i was on duty to pick up Mom and get her to the hospital for the procedure yesterday. 

But Thursday is scuba class, so i needed to have someone else on call to retrieve her, or stay until she was comfortably encamped at the hospital for the night.  S was able to take the afternoon off work, so i was on duty in the morning.  S made arrangements to arrive mid-day, releasing me by 4:00 pm for the hour drive home… in time to make it to class.

With delays and emergency procedures bumping Mom’s fairly routine roto-rooting, we were told that the doc was at least two hours behind schedule.  That meant Mom and i would be stuck in the pre-procedural holding pen from about 11:00 to at least 1:00.  So we both slept…  S arrived around 12:45 and woke us both up…

Low key, relaxed and light conversation followed until Mom was wheeled out at 2:00.  S and i were both hungry, so we hit the hospital cafeteria for a late lunch.  We had a very rational conversation about the need for S to audit the ‘construction’ expenses as her daughter, DQ, drives renovations on Mom’s house.  We discussed the need to keep the drama to a minimum – as in, nobody fuck with sister, T, in Florida… Let the sleeping pit bull lie…

As we reviewed the status of excavations at Mom’s house, i reminded S that if Mom drops dead before the house is done?  There is to be no guilt.  We are doing the right thing, she has chosen this option, and if she dies before it’s done, so be it… S simply nodded her head and said “I don’t think there’s anything we can do to make her happy”.

After lunch, we yakked a bit in the waiting room.  She asked me “Are you happy?”  Wow.  i don’t think anyone in my family has ever said those words to me before… i said “Very.  And thanks for asking.”  The nurse came out to inform us that Mom had a double-punch procedure, two iliac lard-packs blasted away, and she’d probably need to stay overnight at the hospital.

S and i went to see her in recovery, i bid farewell, and S stayed until Mom was settled in her room for the night.  She also stepped up to the retrieval duty upon Mom’s discharge. 

Not sure how it happened, but S seems to have it together.  Maybe it’s the fact that she’s been up to her armpits in raccoon turds in Mom’s attic for the past two weeks.  In any case, my big sister has at least started to grow up…

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* i usually put in links to prior ‘trailer park adventures’ to help some of the newer visitors track the history… but this one has perhaps the best series of comments ever.  loves me some smart-assed comments!  worth a look…  and more on the “we really miss kyknoord” thread…

** After the last angioplasty, i asked the doc if they’d done a biopsy on the plugs near her heart.  Confused the doctor – until i explained that i’d wager they were comprised of sausage gravy, deep-fried chicken livers and bacon fat… which is about what Mom ordered last Sunday for lunch when i was taking her home.

Back to work, losers…

i’m headed for another ‘open stage’ event tonight.  Original plan was to meet up with some friends for ‘happy hour’ after work, then just stay for the band gig.  But life got pesky, errands had to be run, pets had to be fed and emptied… so i bagged the post-work drinking and smack talking.  E-mail festivities between me and my two partners in debauchery (ninjaneer and WDM) captured below…

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daisyfae: got too much stuff to do after work today – won’t make it to the bar after work,  but I will be there around 7:15 for the open stage bit with the band… life is getting in the way of my fun.  Dammit…

ninjaneer:  Reminds me of Smashmouth’s “All Star” song

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me
I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed
She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an “L” on her forehead

Well the years start coming and they don’t stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn’t make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do so much to see
So what’s wrong with taking the back streets
You’ll never know if you don’t go
You’ll never shine if you don’t glow

It’s OK with me if you want to be a conformist, play-by-the-rules, “I’m not allowed out” kinda girlie-girl.  Must be that TOTM if you catch my wiff – er- I mean drift.

daisyfae:  Gotcha.  As a matter of fact, it is ‘shark week’.  And you can suck my sweaty junk, mothafukah… poke me again with your Ronco Pit Bull Teasing Stick and see what happens… [sitting with my finger and my thumb in the shape of an “L” on my forehead]

ninjaneer:  I fear not your word of little power…..you’re just a girl.  Hey, WDM, in light of the fact that daisyfae is out of iPads and is afraid of early afternoon spotting, do you want to head up to the bar a little earlier than 1630?

WDM:  “Purple Headed Womb Ferret”

daisyfae:  ewww…. i don’t need to know your pet name for the ninjaneers man-thing…

ninjaneer:  If she had a sufficient number of those she wouldn’t be such a sissy.

daisyfae: i can have as many of those as i want… i keep two in a cage at the natural history museum as back up.

ninjaneer:  Yes, but there not as good as the ones caught in the wild.

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Clearly, we have way too much free time… Off for my latest round of rock-star hallucinations…