A President, a Prime Minister, and The King walk into a bar...

President Bush and Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi were in my neck of the woods today. Graceland, civil rights, barbecue. Yep... that's the quintessential Memphis experience. Oh, and they served fried peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches on Air Force One. So classy. :)

I wish I hadn't been tied down to the office and had been able to be part of the media feeding frenzy. Koizumi seems like a fairly rock star-esque kind of guy, and it would've been cool to see him in person. However, as The Flyer points out, only four media reps were allowed with the official touring party, and nobody — including little ol' me — received a full itinerary until Thursday morning.

So I rushed to jump through a few governmental hoops to get open press credentials for one of my reporters, and he came back with some great shots — err, photos. I make the distinction because said reporter forwarded an e-mail from one of his former editors which read, "And for God's sake, don't tell people you're going to shoot the president. Always say 'photograph.' Just trying to help out."

What's everybody looking at?

Paul -- Here are your "girls" together /and/ playing nicely! You'd be
proud of me -- I've only gagged and puked one during litterbox cleaning
duty! Boy, I sure miss your help! Texas sucks anyway, so hurry up and
come home.

Past two days have been so busy, as in
"get-your-butt-out-of-the-house-and-quit-blogging" busy. Tonight, Mom
and Dad took pity on me being home alone (well, they said they just saw
it as an opportunity to spend time with me), so we went out for fish and
chips, followed by Theatre Memphis' performance of "Cats." The cast
certainly did it justice. Thoroughly enjoyable. I always cry when
Grizzabella ascends to the Heavy Side Layer. Every. Single. Time.

Now I'm laying in bed with the SideKick. I'd love to type more, but not
on this miniscule keyboard. And I'm tired, anyway. Not going to get any
rest, however, as long as I'm hearing random crashes and rustles from
the living room. Kittens never sleep, do they?
--katesink

If you're happy and you know it...

Found this ad when I was reading the newspaper this morning.
What are these people so happy about? Click the picture to find out.
(Or you can click this text link instead.)

Lazy Sunday

Paul left for Houston today and won't be back until Friday (bummer). I'd go shopping, but I'm scrimping to save for the SK3 that comes out July 10. I've been watching the "I've Got a Secret" marathon on GSN because I'm really honkin' bored. I should do something constructive (clean? dust? cook?), but I don't feel very productive. Somebody please save me from my misery by forcing me out for coffee or something.

P.S. You can watch some "I've Got a Secret" clips here. My favorite is "Golden Shoe" on page 5. Woman gets stuck on an elevator for so long that she has to borrow some guy's hightop sneaker so she can go to the bathroom (and she goes in front of everyone on the elevator). Oh(!), and they're stuck on the elevator for a couple of hours after that.

When the cameras are rolling, will Memphis be left on the cutting room floor?

Something rather on-topic (gasp!) and lengthy today. Non-Memphians, read at your own risk ...

Got an e-mail from a coworker today, the latest buzz between news junkies about a film and/or music company mulling over whether to move a regional office to Memphis. But it's been a couple of weeks now since the news first leaked, and key players are still tight-lipped about the whole deal. No hard facts. No name-dropping. Just a lot of nebulous talk in one corner and a lot of cynicism in the other.

As a native Memphian, I'm thrilled by the idea that we'd be home to a production megacorp. Being the 17th largest U.S. city, Memphis dukes it out with other mid-sized locales to draw and keep big-name companies and attractions. Nabbing this deal could be a real boon for the metro area. We're already fortunate that companies like FedEx and AutoZone and St. Jude Children's Research Hospital — to name a few — were founded here and are loyal corporate citizens. But I think there are times when the city tries too hard to seal a deal, trips over its own feet, and is left with nothing to show for its efforts.

One of the best examples: The Pyramid Arena. In 1991, the city built The Pyramid — a.k.a. "The Tomb of Doom" — a structure taller than the Statue of Liberty destined to be a big attraction and an even bigger money-maker. There's a great backstory to the construction of the Pyramid nicely laid out in this commentary. I was 10 years old, so I don't remember much about the early days of the Pyramid other than it involved a slick talker named Sidney Schlenker (whose name should've tipped us off).

The Pyramid never got its promised theme park. Or its halls of fame. Or even its observation deck. That's right ... it's taller than the Statue of Liberty, but you can't even look out the top.

After the Pyramid fiasco, city leaders still kept their heads high — until a decade later when they bent over backwards to attract the then-Vancouver Grizzlies. As part of that deal, a second arena, FedExForum, was built for the NBA team. And, with that shiny new arena only two miles away, the Pyramid was largely vacated (except for its occasional use as a movie soundstage or to hold graduation ceremonies).

Now the Pyramid is in limbo. Reportedly, it will become a mega-sized Bass Pro Shops, a rehab job similar to the one Bass Pro announced for Buffalo, N.Y.'s Memorial Auditorium. And though the Forum has lived up to and even exceeded expectations, it was recently announced that (oops!) a floor was left out of the Forum's parking garage, meaning the city loses out on $6.3 million in state funding.

So I'm wary of the incentives the city may be putting on the table to attract a film company. And — holding on to the adage "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst" — I fear the city is in for more disappointment. Do other cities understand what we're going through? Certainly we're not the first place to boast a failed effort to recall the mayor, a slew of political corruption, and, unfortunately, a lot of continued racial polarization. Over and over, we jump at the glimmer of a chance to rise above all that, yet we keep picking at old scabs. One step forward, six steps back?

I want to see Memphis succeed. I want to see it grow and thrive. I want to, for once, tell a long-distance friend I live here and have them recognize the city for something other than the place with Elvis and Martin Luther King Jr. died. I know that's what a lot of Memphians want, but the city needs to stop for a second and think. We must be wary of those who speak a good game but have nothing to show for it. We need to realize that spending money now is not always a guarantee of making money later. And, most of all, we must be conscious of maintaining and promoting the things we already have, lest we lose them.

New meaning to "flying off the shelves"...

Fred and Joe are more or less getting along, and despite a few initial growls, things are calming down around here.

I've determined this is what they are thinking:
-- Fred: Stupid spazzball won't leave me alone. Can't you see I just want to lay here and gorge myself on somebody's else's Kitten Chow?
-- Joe: Ooooh! A new friend! And she's got a built-in play toy wagging back and forth on her back end! Play play play play play! Hey, what'd I do? Why are you growling at me?

First stop after picking up Joe on Sunday was an emergency run to Petco for a tiiiiny litter box (she only weighs 1 lb., 6 oz.), a collar, and a bag of Kitten Chow. We were keeping Joe in quarantine until Paul could take her to the vet Monday for tests and vaccinations, but we all crowded in the bathroom Sunday afternoon for initial introductions between Fred and Joe. A moth fluttered by, but Paul and I didn't think anything of it.

Monday after work, we saw another moth. "I think they're coming from the Kitten Chow bag," Paul said. So we decided we'd just stop by Petco to exchange the bag before we went to dinner.

"I think there are moths in our Kitten Chow," Paul told the clerk. She raised an eyebrow and told him to grab another bag so they could open it to check for more moths.

Paul brought a bag back to the counter, and she opened it. The inside was literally a web of moths. It was a hair-standing-on-end kind of moment, seeing moths where you don't expect moths to be. Paul says the experience scarred him.

The clerk sent Paul back for another bag. There were a couple left on the shelf, but something was wrong with them -- the webs were starting to show on the outside of the bag, and the bags were warm.

Eh, forget it, I told Paul. Let's just get a refund and pick up cat food at the grocery store. As the clerk was processing the refund, she told us they had a moth infestation last year, too.

"It started in the wild bird food, then in the big bags of dog food and the cat food. Some of the bags were actually warm to the touch, you know, because of all the activity going on inside them. We lost thousands of dollars of inventory, but we thought we got rid of the moths."

And then she told us about the mice -- not the ones in the cages, but the ones that run around the floors at night.

Joe

Everybody, meet Joe. We think Joe is a girl. More later.
--katesink

x2

Fred needs a friend to keep her company when we're not home.

A coworker has three 2-month-old kittens on his porch.

Tomorrow, Casa S. becomes a two-cat household.

Tweet tweet

I just caught two birds mating on the window ledge of my car. I tried to
get the phone out to take a picture, but by that time, Mr. Speedy had
done the deed and flown away, leaving his girly sitting there all alone.
Jerk.
--katesink

Whoppers

Funny, the things people will tell you in the interest of clearing their guilty consciences.

I knew a guy several years ago who was rambling on and on about this playoff game he'd seen in another city. I asked how he'd managed to get to a major playoff game half way across the country without asking the manager for time off. "Do you remember when I had that surgery last year?" he asked. "Yeah, I wasn't really in the hospital at all."

Wait. You faked surgery in the pursuit of sports and beer? And you got away with it? Wow.

Which begs the question: What's the biggest confession you've ever heard? Names and details may be changed to protect the utterly guilty.

The Mount St. Helens of Chocolate

Last night, I baked a cake ... sorta.

The photos and recipes looked yummy (though I did have some mild reservations the recipe is so unhealthy that I might as well be cooking a big pile of whale blubber). But I bought all the ingredients anyway, greased one of those nifty silicone bundt pans, and got to work.

Paul and I finished mixing the batter, poured it into the bundt pan and put it into a 350-degree oven for a frickin' hour. Do you know how long an hour seems when your entire house smells like chocolate?

Got the cake out, let it cool for a few minutes, then went to flip it into a Tupperware cake holder. And it exploded. I'm not kidding. Molten chocolate magma covered the counter and the stove and the cake holder and everything else in a two-mile radius. It was horrible.

Paul only had a half-hour before he had to go to the lab, which we spent scraping, wiping, and washing. Oh, and laughing at ourselves. How serious can you be when you're covered in melted chocolate?

This post is 24% better than most because it has a trivia question at the end

Got to work yesterday and the temp's car was in the parking lot. Took me about two seconds to realize it was my data day -- a whole day of SQL, charting, identifying trends, more SQL. My crappy Monday morning suddenly didn't seem so bad anymore. And the day ended up being pretty darn good.

Other highlights: My Parasite Pals order came in last night, including my Tickles the Tapeworm lunchbox (so cute!); I fared better than usual at trivia with my online buddies; and I got a chance to spend a couple of hours with Paul before he had to go back to the lab. I guess the moral is that starting a day on the wrong foot doesn't necessarily mean the entire day is ruined. And while grad school is still annoying, it's more or less bearable.

Well, as much as I'd like today's post to have a little more content, I've got to put on some makeup and go to work. That's the downside of posting in the morning, but an a.m. blog gives me something to do when the house is empty.

So I'll leave you with a question from last night's trivia game: "Iguanas, koalas, and Komodo dragons all have two _____."

----unrelated----
FF: Yes, let's get together before you leave. As for your kids, D. is at Bridge Builders this week and W. starts in July.

Good(?) Monday morning

I'm sure Paul thinks I have a screw loose after I called him this morning. It's just ... the lab, the schedule, everything that goes with it. I don't know if I'm strong enough to last another 18 months. I've been struggling more than I let on here. But that's a post for another time.

Anyway, I knew Paul was supposed to be home around 6 a.m. to shower and drop off a couple of prescriptions from the pharmacy. (These 24 hour-plus days are killer.) I dragged my butt out of bed at 6:15 a.m. and walked into the living room. Well, hells yeah! Paul was home! The lights were on and there were two Walgreens bags on the couch -- PopTarts, shampoo, the prescriptions.

So where was Paul? I wandered the house for a couple of minutes. He wasn't in the guest bathroom or the shower. Maybe he'd gone upstairs to the office to check his e-mail ... or not. Maybe he was getting something out of the car ...

I peeked out the kitchen window into the garage and his car wasn't there. He'd come home, dropped off the stuff, and left again? No way. I called his cell phone and he answered, "What's up?" That meant other people were around. And, in spite of that, I lost it. I cried so much I don't think I was making sense.

It was just such a lonely way to start my morning. I'd been dreaming about driving to Jacksonville, so when I woke up and I wasn't there and Paul wasn't here, I felt so so so alone. I keep telling him -- and myself -- that I'm strong and we're strong and if anyone can get through grad school stress, we can. But moments like this morning make me feel so fragile!

I've got to get my head together. It's not even 7 a.m., and already today is shaping up to be a stellar Monday (wince, sigh).

Philosophy 101

All my life, I've been taught to work hard and try my best. But yesterday, I was reading an interview with a guy who said his advice to young people is to not set high goals and to let opportunity come to them. So which is it?

Work hazard?

Look! Water's dripping out of that pipe in the ceiling, and it's kind of close to all those cords on the wall. Ooh, umm, and spiders are coming down the pipe, too. Where's the Kleenex? Gotta kill 'em. No, I didn't want to wait for you to determine if it's a brown recluse, but yes, I'm glad you believe its legs were too long.

Oh, hey, water is coming down the wall now. And into the hallway. Bet it's condensation from the new air conditioner installed above my office a couple of days ago. And more spiders? Guess the workers stirred up a couple of nests upstairs, too.

I, err, I think I'll just leave my office for a while. Thanks for mopping.

Wait ... what did you say? The water's not from the air conditioner? The upstairs toilet is overflowing? Through the bathroom floor and the roof into my office? Well, I'm glad you say it's clean water. And I agree that calling a plumber might be in order. And the exterminator.

Oh, look, there are paper towels in the hallway soaking up the last few drips of water.

And the "clean" water is brown.

And there's another spider.

What's up, doc? No really -- what's up?

For the past few years, my family and Paul's family have used the same internist as our primary care doctor. Last week, mom-in-law called me: "Did you know he's leaving? In June? He's moving to Florida."

No, I hadn't heard, but I wasn't crying rivers. I haven't seen him since he referred me to my psychiatrist. And, anyway, I've been toying with the idea of going back to the doctor I had in high school. His new practice is 20 miles out of the way now, but he's worth it.

Still, I knew Mom and Dad would want to know the news. "Did you know he's leaving? In June? He's moving to Florida." Surprise, surprise. They hadn't heard either.

And today, I got the official letter...

Dear Patient,

We are sending this letter to inform you that Dr. (his name) is no longer practicing medicine with our medical group. It is our understanding that Dr. (his name) does not intend to maintain an office in Tennessee. We do not have a telephone number or mailing address for his new office location.

Sounds pretty shady, doesn't it? I have a ton of resources at my disposal, and so far, I haven't seen anything unusual. No complaints with the medical board, no unresolved lawsuits. Crazy.

By the way, the domain names have been renewed. The cost is $9.20, but don't stress over it. Pay me in tea or beads. And sorry for no post yesterday -- Blogger was borked. Bummer, too, because Paul's been working 24/7 (literally) since Sunday. He's sleeping in the office on his new $60 travel pillow.

But back to the task at hand ... should I worry about what happened to my doctor? The office has been tight-lipped (Mom called), which makes me even more suspicious. Whoever comments with the most creative conspiracy theory wins a unspecified object of absolutely no resale value.

Renewals?

Grr, Monstee, Ferox: Your websites are up for renewal ... like, now. You guys want those domain names for another year?

Rare FSM appearance

Look! Flying spaghetti monster made an appearance at Memphis Italian
Fest 2006! (Who here knows what I'm talking about?)
--katesink

Better know a geek

I'm so cool...


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