A book on sketchbooks, written by a man, contains artwork mostly by men. Not at all surprising. Call them “visual journals” and the author will much more likely be a woman, and the artists represented will be mostly women. Art is for men, but craft is for ladypeople. I’m reminded of a Joanna Newsom interview in which she said that men were harpists and women were harp players. We don’t let women play in male spaces (still!), but we also devalue the spaces where women are allowed to play.
(I may not even have noticed, except I started to wonder how many drawings of teen boy sexual fantasies there would be in the book. A lot. And all of them drawn by men, so I looked at the artist bios and did a quick tally of the genders: 31 men, 10 women, and one non-binary person.)
Did I mention that we had a lightning strike last weekend? It fried my modem, requiring a call to Comcast (I hate phones!) and a visit from a technician to install a new
modem, because our local service center no longer carries equipment.
And then I found that the Ethernet card on my computer had also been fried. I got a USB wireless adapter, for short term, but ordered a new Ethernet card from Amazon. That arrived today.
I turned on my computer, to uninstall the old Ethernet card, shut down, physically installed the new card, tried to tuen the computer back on, aaaaand bupkis. I think the motherboard is dead.
The food news is that the hard drive is probably fine, and if it isn’t, it’s pretty well backed up. I may lose some email and a couple of day’s worth of work, but that’s not the end of the world. Being temporarily computerless might be the end of the world, though!
The baby bear made a feet bouquet, while he was napping. Is there anything cuter?
We have our yearly all day in-house conference at work tomorrow. They are allegedly serving pastries and coffee in the morning, but the last time I attended, they said the same thing and there was bupkis.
They won’t tell us what the lunch menu is, but every year they serve the same revolting vinegar-drenched artichoke heart veggie wrap. It’s absolutely inedible, so I’ll be packing Pop Tarts and a PB&J sandwich. Better safe than sorry.
I’ve been looking at ways to trim some of my bills, and lo and behold, my newest Comcast bill had gone up about $40. So that’s an obvious place to start. Before dropping cable, I wanted to make sure a Roku stick would work for me. There were a few glitches, but I finally got it working.
If you’re a Doctor Who fan, I recommend checking out the BritBox app. You can stream the classic episodes with it.
(And yes, I know I can call Comcast and probably get my bill reduced. I did that last year. I’m just kind of annoyed, plus we’re moving into the summer TV black hole season. Now is as good a time as any to ditch cable.)
I have been drafted into the lefty army. Hopefully just temporarily.
Parking Operations will ticket you if a tire is touching the white line. I can only imagine the driver got out of their car, looked, and said, “Screw it, I parked inside the lines and that’s good enough!”
I’d be so mortified I’d have to re-park.
[Also note that the passenger side of the car is beat to hell. There’s probably a good reason for that!]
Thomas went to a new vet today. He was urinating every 15-30 minutes yesterday evening, so I called my vet. The earliest appointment they had available was Monday. They would take him as an emergency between 8-5 today, but that would cost an extra $80, on top of the $38 office call fee.
Um, no. I’m still a little bit angry about the receptionist offering an appointment FIVE DAYS LATER, for a suspected UTI. A UTI is not an emergency, but it’s an urgent care issue, and if an owner doesn’t understand that, the receptionist should explain it to them.
I’m also annoyed that my vet–a practice I’ve been going to for ten years, is no longer able to provide urgent, non-emergency care. That’s unacceptable to me. I’m not asking them to drop everything to examine my dog, but they shouldn’t be so booked up that they can’t fit in urgent care cases. And they should have office staff who can triage those appointments, putting the non-urgent ones farther off and leaving a few slots open for more pressing problems.
So, I called another practice, and they were able to get Thomas in as a new patient this morning. They also had a couple of new client discounts that brought the bill down to $57. It would have otherwise been $87, which would have still been very reasonable!
You know how this story ends, right? After being stressed out about Thomas and pissed off at the old vet practice yesterday, I got no sleep last night. And of course, Thomas was back to peeing normally today. His urine looked normal under the microscope and everything else looked great. They did a needle urine draw, so they had a sterile sample to culture. Results of that should be back Monday, but I expect they’ll be negative.
All that angst and drama for nothing!
Left to right: Harriet the Boxer, Frances the Boxer x Pit Bull, and Thomas the Boxer x Klingon
I got into a bizarre discussion on Facebook with a former animal shelter ACO who believes that folks who live in apartments should not own dogs. She thinks that a fenced yard should be required, and that lack of one is dog abuse. (And weirder, she feels that it’s also abusive to have children in apartments.)
Can you just imagine if the millions and millions of city dwellers in the world no longer had dogs (or children)? We would have to kill even more dogs than we already kill, and for what? The lack of a mythical “perfect” home? That’s kind of monstrous.
So here are the three dogs I’ve had while living in my current apartment. I don’t think they look miserable. Sure, in a perfect world, we’d all have acres of flowered fields and enchanted forests to play in, but that isn’t the world most people inhabit, and that’s okay. Dogs are incredibly adaptable, and lucky for everyone, they mostly just want a chance to play, to go for walks, and to hang out with their people.
Today’s visitor was a great spangled fritillary. And thank goodness, too. When I got home from work, the street in front of my complex was blocked by a car with its driver’s side door open, and a shirtless guy standing in the street, screaming hysterically at the driver.
I turned around, circled the block, and entered the complex from the other direction. And he was still screaming.
I went inside, got Thomas, and we left for a walk. Still screaming.
Thomas and I got back about a half hour later, and the shirtless guy was no longer screaming, but was still agitated.
They did finally leave at some point. I hope the guy calmed down. I did considered calling the police but decided that wasn’t going to help the situation for the guy or his girlfriend. The girlfriend could have left him and driven off at any point, if she felt threatened.
So, butterflies! They were a welcome sight.
Best snack in the world: Teeny tiny itty bitty little crispy dill pickles with sharp cheddar cheese.
I didn’t get to the shelter today, to look at dogs. One of the cats I’m sitting for was sick, so I took him to the vet, instead. I’m starting to think the universe is telling me that I’m not allowed to have another dog.