Cat Love: Mommy vs Daddy

How to Twist Words

I like to play Word-Twist with Boyfriend. No, not the Boggle rip-off. I refer to the game where your opponent thinks you're having a perfectly normal conversation, and then you sneak in a response that is near-hysterical, bitterly acrimonious, or just plain loopy. As an example:

Him: I like it when you talk.

Me: Oh, you think I talk too much?

See what I did there? I seized the verb, twisted the context of the sentence, and spat out something eye-bulgingly wrong. Here's another gem:

Him: Let me help you with that.

Me: Why? You think I can't do it?

Unwarranted defensiveness adds spice to every tête-à-tête! Mais oui!

But as much as I am genetically and environmentally advantaged when it comes to being crazy, there are others who are so good at Word-Twist that they can plant a lie seed, water it with further untruths, fertilize it with embellishments, and prune it into shape with the sharpened bones of fallen enemies when it becomes a full-grown lie bush.

...Wait, WTF? Dammit, I really thought I had something good going when I started that metaphor. Oh, well.

Anyway, I refer to he who in my previous comic is depicted as a smog monster. He responded to this article, which detailed the reasons for his dismissal from a major organization (hint: if they tell you not to work on a personal project during office hours, don't send 5,900+ emails about the project using your work account during office hours), with a website announcement about how awesome he and his project is and how they were sooooo wrong back at his old office. To give credit where credit is due, the response is only 30% boilerplate fundraising language. But what percentage is poop from a bull? The newspaper attempts to address that question with this article.

Oh, the drama! The words, they fly like glinting ninja stars through the heated air of the night!

(Note to self: STOP WITH THE PURPLE PROSE FOR PITY'S SAKE.)

Dear readers, I encourage you to think about Word-Twist as you go about your pure, innocent lives. Ponder the motivation behind a half-truth or a bald-faced lie. Consider the consequences of corrupting the intention behind a phrase. Imagine the radioactive power of sweet promises turned into decayed hope. And then practice on a loved one! MWAHAHAHAHAAAAA

Just kidding. Be nice, kids.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

The Vicious Cycle

Today's comic is inspired by this article.

BLOG CHANGE: Whilst noodling around to find a template that would allow me to post the above image in its full, glorious 900 px size, I accidentally changed the whole blog layout. In the immortal words of Rick Perry: "Whoops."

Anyway, there are little whatsis on the right that you just hover your mouse over and it'll have the About section, the Archive, and some RSS thingiebob. This is Dynamic View, so you can use the upper left pull-down menu to change the layout of the entire blog if you want. I recommend the Sidebar view. If you're insulted that I'm explaining something so basic, that's because this entire paragraph is for my mom.

More comics soon!

Update, 05/25/2012: Changed my blog back to the Simple template. Boyfriend was relieved.

Movie Review: Hunger Games (2012)

I have seen the Hunger Games and I loved it.

As a refresher, I wrote about the book last year, having been alerted to its awesomeness by Crispy of Cambridge. I liked it like cake, so I went ahead and finished the rest of the trilogy. Book two, Catching Fire, was also great; whereas reading the last book, Mockingjay, was like biting into a delicious fried chicken and finding out that it was still bleeding. You feel slightly ill but finish it anyway, dismissing possible damage to your body because you and this chicken have faced so much together and only one of you can complete the journey to your stomach and it's gonna be the damned raw chicken.

What was I saying? Oh, yes, the Hunger Games trilogy -- well, two out of three ain't bad. (Said the person who has never written a novel.)

The movie is an excellent adaptation of the first book. Set design: District 12 is appropriately gloomy, the Capitol perfectly garish, and the arena suitably death trap-y. Casting: JLaw, as Katniss, is brilliant, so all is forgiven for not casting Saoirse Ronan as the poster girl of many an aspiring archer. Oh, let's face it, I would watch this movie for Stanley Tucci's blue hair and Wes Bentley's evil facial hair alone. Oh, and Elizabeth Banks as Effie and Woody Harrelson as Haymitch? Lo-o-o-o-vely!!! But the main reason I would volunteer for the Hunger Games, of course, is to be caught helpessly between Peeta and Gale. By the way, a middle-aged woman was wearing a "Team Peeta" shirt at the 10 am showing today. How dare she, and where do I get that shirt.

Only a few details are altered or left out -- the source of the mockingjay pin, the captured rebels, Katniss' cutthroat 'tude under her rich internal monologue of angst -- but crucial scenes between President Snow and Seneca Crane are created that makes sense for the movie.

I won't spoil it further, except to urge y'all to watch it. I secretly wept a couple of times, despite Boyfriend stage-whispering, "TRAP!" every thirty seconds when the Games started. If you read the book, you know exactly which scenes I'm talking about. Wah.

Also: vision is now 20/20. 

YAY LASIK!

Before I Go Blind

Dear readers, today is Lasik day. In the unlikely event that I make it but my eyeballs don't, you may look forward to two more comics -- one about, what else, our cats; and another one about the infamous Boat to Happyland, inspired by a recent news article. Both works of dazzling art are safely stored in C:\Documents and Setting\users\Queen of the Universe\awesome\super awesome\ultra mega super awesome\i like cake\2012\march\do not open\why did you open. 

Haha, just kidding, I use a Mac so they're in... Finder. Somewhere. And here is how you make Finder show you the full directory path.

So, in conclusion:  YAY LASIK!

Starts with "Cat"

Butterfoot

Butterfoot, noun, (1) a person who falls down clumsily at every opportunity; (2) the equivalent of butterfingers, but for the feet; (3) me.

I've hurt my ankle a bunch of times: after hurtling into a cartwheel, playing barefoot soccer, etc. The latest was while hiking -- I managed to get a hairline fracture from rolling my ankle while... get this... walking on level ground! Hence the nickname "Butterfoot," handed down by my exasperated mother.

I wonder how I'll live up to the nickname this summer...

Hole in My Eye

Lasers violated my eye yesterday. The retina specialist put what looked like an oversized suction cup into my right eyeball to prop my eye open and then the eye-rape began. It was horrible and unpleasant and I now totally understand why light torture is so effective. After mere seconds of laser bombardment, I would have given in.

But let me start from the beginning. I had gone to a free Lasik consultation last month to see if I'm a likely candidate for the procedure that would make me 1.75% prettier. They told me I could do the generic laser treatment, after the usual reading-out of tiny letters on the wall and sticking my face in the box that takes pictures of my enchanting eyeballs. But, the doctor warned, there were two minor issues: one, my retina was a little bit thinner than most, and two, there was a hole in it.

THERE'S A HOLE IN MY EYE!

The Laser Consultants (TLC) assured me it wasn't a problem, and proceeded to efficiently schedule the Lasik appointment and all the other associated procedures: dilation, wave scans, what have you. So I go to my usual optometrist to get my eyes dilated so she can see waaay back in there, and she said the same thing: "There's a hole in your right retina."

Well, golly gee. She promised to send the information to TLC, and said they would get back to me if they found something yucky.

February ended and March began. It was now a week before my scheduled Lasik. In one week, I would become a beautiful, slightly blind--but only temporarily!--butterfly. And then on Tuesday, TLC calls me to say that they wanted a retina specialist to check out Mr. Eyehole, who quickly moved to the top of my carefully nurtured Bane of My Existence list. Because TLC, also, shares my dream of me becoming 1.75% prettier, they scheduled my retina appointment for the very next day.

So off I went with my handsome chaperon, and Dr. T showed me a real-time MS Paint diagram of the issue. I kid you not, this is what it looked like:

I honor his illustrative technique by also using MS Paint to modify the image above. So as you can see, the retina is the area in red, far away from the cornea, where all the Lasik action is going to take place. But, 20/20 vision isn't going to be much help when Mr. Eyehole leads to a detached retina somewhere down the line, so Dr. T told me we were going to "weld it shut" with a laser. He would do it that very day.

OH GOD THE PAIN. All I saw were flashes of short vertical green lights, around the area where the hole was. Whenever the lights disappeared, I saw afterimages of the veins in my eyeball. ARGH!!! It took only about twenty seconds, but I came out of the room feeling like a wrung-out dishrag. My very solicitous chaperon then took me home, where I immediately napped, as instructed, and felt much better afterwards.

As of this writing, my wave scans were moved to Monday, I get to see Dr. T on Tuesday to tell him proudly that I did not touch my right eye for 24 hours even though all sorts of crust congealed on my lids and lashes, how gross, AND my Lasik appointment is still on for Thursday. Booyah!

And the moral of the story is: naps solve everything.

The Black Sheep

Things that are Wrong

#1: Yesterday's Wind

In hindsight, I should probably not have worn a swirly skirt and my "Best Kisser" underoos, because holy Lord that wind was out to get me. I stepped out with my co-workers for lunch and flashed the entire world as I crossed the bridge. I kid you not, the wind was a howler. Hats were flying through the air, babies were being ripped from their parents' arms, and I swear a cow blew past me.

Hilariously, the City of Boston claims, "Because of its moderate coastal weather systems, Boston is not known to suffer from particularly windy weather." Tell that to the countless umbrellas who have fallen in the fight against the Boston wind. May those brave warriors rest in peace.

#2: The Republican Primaries

JUST PICK ONE ALREADY GEEZ. Here, let me help you decide:

Candidate	(+)	(-)
Mitt Romney	Knows a thing or two about the economy	Openly a robot
Rick Santorum	Sincerely conservative	Looks like a potato
Newt Gingrich	Unassailable self-confidence	Looks like a fat potato
Ron Paul	Consistent	May have to be stapled to his chair

There. Now choose!

#3: The inspiration behind this comic

Happy Friday!

This is How My Brain Works

 

Game Review: I FINISHED SKYWARD SWORD.

And I'm glad I was alone when I fought the insanely fast and powerful final boss, because I almost cried like a little girl when he beat me the first time. I blame the Wii controls for being too slow to respond to my lightning-quick movements!

Anyway, I saved the world, da dee da, and on the above screen shot is the "servant of the goddess" who is talking about nuclear power, I mean, the triforce. (In the Legend of Zelda series, the triforce is a three-part object that, when combined, grants the wish of the user. It's like the Dragon Balls, but with only three Balls.)

Because, in the right hands, nuclear power the triforce is beneficent, providing (relatively) clean energy plentifully and efficiently peace. In the wrong hands, nuclear power the triforce can eff things up for everyone. So the best thing to do, really, is to develop new and even more efficient, clean, and sustainable energy sources that won't create Godzilla every time an 8.9 earthquake hits, I mean, seal up the triforce so it doesn't get misused, at least until another villain digs it up and tries to conquer the world, how tedious.

So today's lesson is: seek and ye shall find meaningful allegories!

Fun fact: Princess Zelda is named after Zelda Fitzgerald née Sayre, wife of alcoholic novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald. The name is the only thing they share, since Princess Zelda is typically a sweet person/holy maiden who will suddenly bust out a bow and arrows in your time of need, and Mrs. Fitzgerald, um, was diagnosed with schizophrenia and died in a hospital fire.

So, yeah.

The point is, I finished Skyward Sword. Next: Twilight Princess!

How to Tell the Seasons in Boston

Here's a handy guide:

TEAM	REGULAR SEASON	BEST ENJOYED...
Celtics (NBA)	November - April	During rainy and windy spring!
Red Sox (MLB)	April - October	During summers with a beer! Or ten!
Patriots (NFL)	September - February	During pretty fall!
Bruins (NHL)	October - April	During the frozen winter!

Feel free to correct me if I got it wrong up there!

News flash: Bostonians love them their sports.

Happy Friday!!!