I had a grumpy story from this morning but am opting for a funnier one.

Clara Brounstein just yelled out a "thanks!" to the bus driver as she got off the bus. The girl behind her called it out at the exact same time as she followed off the bus. Then she followed into the store and asked if I was from BC. I said yes, did I know her? She said "no, but only people from BC say thanks to bus drivers." HA totall...y true. I never hear anyone but me and Ken thank the drivers.

Romeo and Juliet

How did I forgot to tell the Internet about my boy cat becoming a girl cat? It's not the kind of thing you're supposed to forget.

While we were in Cape Cod this summer, I got a call from our cat sitter who thought Romeo was acting a little out of character. She came over one day and all of a sudden he wasn't eating, and was curling up next to the litter. She kept an eye on him for a couple hours and then decided to take him to the vet.

Back in May, he had a urinary blockage that prevented him from peeing. He was in a lot of pain and we got him to the hospital before any permanent damage was done. The bill was high but we had pet insurance, and were hopeful it wouldn't happen again. The vet said that if he was blocked again in future, the process would be the same and he'd likely keep getting blocked for the rest of his life. Lots of pain, lots of expense. In that 'unlikely' event, they'd consider surgical options. Well Romeo had been motoring along just fine (once I stopped torturing him by holding him down to force pills into him) but the stress of us leaving again for another vacation was the straw that broke his furry little back. He was blocked again in August but this time they couldn't unblock him, and the previously unlikely surgery was now necessary.

So while away in the Cape, we made arrangements over the phone for him to go straight into surgery. That surgery was very expensive but was very effective and worth it. He's now the happiest cat in the world, back to his old self, and peeing up a storm. He's so happy to be home, and we're happy he's back.

The surgery itself is something that no one hears about, but can't be that uncommon for male cats. Since he was never going to be able to lead a normal urinating life like his brother, they had to remove his boy parts and give him a girl part. That's right, Romeo is now Juliet.

Wackadoodle

I didn't realize, until someone pointed it out recently, that I hadn't posted in two months. I'm not sure where the time went or why I didn't feel like posting anything. Things are great at home and at work. Those courses I was dreading teaching? It kills me to admit this but I got a lot out of them, and perform my daily duties that much better because of things I learned from my own course material. We teach another session in Toronto at the end of November, I'm looking forward to the trip.

Apart from that, Ken and I are keeping busy like usual. Ken more so than me. For the first time in a while, I had a season where I just couldn't find the right activities to join. I'm looking into solutions but I've felt like a bit of a bum only having one scheduled activity a week this fall.

The reason I've come running back to post is because I once again need to pour my sense of outrage onto the Internet. Reading the news does that to me. Apparently if Ken were to start dating someone else, I could just kidnap her and try to kill her because the punishment? The punishment is two days in jail. TWO DAYS. What the hell is that, Internet? I'm asking you.

I didn't bother reading the full article. It's the crazy astronaut love triangle story that I followed when it happened, and it's popping up in the news today because I guess the nutjob got sentenced. One assumes that if she got two days, there must be a story behind that. But I don't even want to read it. I don't want to know why a judge would turn her back out on the street immediately and give her a year's probation. Probation is nothing. This woman has three children but pre-meditated a crazy scheme to kidnap and kill someone.

It really gets me that we all have to control our impulses every day but other people can just let their crazy out and get away with it.

I've been undecided about whether to post about Natasha. Natasha and I worked together for a while at my last job. She was such a wonderful person. The few times we got to hang out away from the office, we had a great time. She was such a pleasure to be around. And not just smart and fun, but beautiful and a cat person too. When do you see that kind of combination?! Ha. But what happened is that she moved back to Montreal and was kidnapped and killed in early October. She was missing for days before her body was found. The newspaper hasn't said what happened during those days, but there thankfully was a DNA match found at the scene that matched a convicted criminal. Someone she didn't know, and had never met. Someone who got to her as she was going to her car after a long day at work.

This man has been arrested and jailed for a few short years for trying to kidnap a young girl. But now? Now he has been out a couple years and then he kidnaps and kills Natasha. No wonder these horrible, disturbed people do what they do. They know there's no consequence. Not a consequence that is enough of a deterrent to prevent them from these horrors.

Concussed

Last week I was at the pool with a friend. We had an easy aquafit class and then sat in the hottub after a couple fun lanes of front crawl. Long story short, the combination was rough and she fainted. I caught her as she came down in the shower but it was at the last second, I didn't realize what was happening at first. I was frightened, it was just a gut reaction to step towards her, but unfortunately because of the angle at which she came down, she swung towards the wall in my arms and her forehead hit the tile. It was much less force and impact than if I hadn't caught her but I just couldn't get under her in time.

It turned out to be a mild concussion and she's doing well. I'm so glad she's okay. And I feel terrible, I should have been listening better to how she was feeling. It also made me realize how ill equipped I am to help someone medically in need except to call for a lifeguard.

Conversation heard in our house this morning:

Ken: "Do you mind if I have the rest of the tuna?"

Clara: "Do you mean the tuna that's in the tupperware in the fridge?"

...silence as I look at him, waiting for it to dawn on him....

Ken: "...that's the tuna that you caught Junior eating straight from the can on the counter, isn't it."

Clara: "yup."

Ken: "Damn it. I made a sandwich with that last night."

This Had Better Not Be a Bad Omen for Our Trip To Cape Cod

Bank Teller: "So that will be $305 US that you are withdrawing from your account today, Ms. Brounstein?"

Me: "Yes. That's correct, thanks."

Bank Teller: [counts it out to me]

Me: "...would you like to see my i.d.?"

Bank Teller: "Oh, yes, I'd better check that."

Hot and Sticky with continued Hot and Sticky

Gaaah it is so humid in Ottawa. My hair hasn't been straight once this summer. I never complained once on all those days when it was 20 and nice and cool. It was perfect. Even the rain was a bit of an inconvenience for, oh, all of July. But I never complained, I don't think. Now it's 30+ degrees of humidity and I'm dying here, people. Dying.

Our condo is designed in such a way where the rooms are all in a long row. It's not a bad arrangement, it works well. But the place is big enough that we have a fairly long hallway and all the windows are on one side of the condo. This, of course, means that there is no cross current of air. Not to mention that the only windows that open are tiny ones in each room, just one in each. I try to be good and not turn on the air conditioning except when we're expecting guests. It's one of those buildings that's designed for older people who are very comfortable and rich and who don't care about turning up the AC. So the halls happen to have the AC blasting.

You can imagine that when our front door opens into the hall, there is a WOOSH! of AC that is so delicious I stood there for 5 minutes soaking it up after our dinner tonight. I went so far as to leave the door ajar but have the chain lock on. It left about 2 inches of super-blasting cold air. The cats eventually tired of trying to push their little heads through there and Ken and I just sat enjoying the coolness in the front hall. I think I got the apartment down to a respectable 100 degrees.