[	mood	|	okay	]
[	music	|	Ishtar - Comme Toi	]

Yay, my first post in a while.
I came the closest I've ever come to having a wreck on my way home today. I was turning the sharpest corner on our road while going 70 miles per hour, as usual, when all of a sudden another car came around the corner -- on the wrong side of the road!! This happens a lot, since there's no center stripe on the road to my house, but usually people have the sense to move over to the right lane before going over a blind hill or around a corner like that. Well, normally I would have coped with this without any problems, but I was really really tired and about to fall asleep at the wheel, so this startled me more than it normally would have. Long story short, I jerked the wheel over a little too fast, ran my right tires into the mud on the side of the road, and fishtailed a couple of times before I regained control. You'd think I'd learn, but no. I continued home at my normal speed of 70.
What can I say; the couch was calling my name, and far be it for me to make it wait.

Speaking of fishtails, one of my fish, the bichir, has a horrible wound on his face. I'm not sure if he just spazzed out one night and ran into a rock or if the oscar tried to eat him (probably the former,) but he has an infected cut on his face and his eye has a white film over it... I really hope he doesn't lose his eye. He's an awesome fish and I'd be really sad to lose him, so I hope the medicine I'm giving him helps. And infection that close to his brain could be really dangerous.
Also, I got my midas hybrid back from the pet shop, along with a divider for my 29 gallon so I can keep her in there with the oscar until I get a bigger tank. YAY!! I think the oscar is glad to have another cichlid in his tank, even if he can only see her through the divider... he was more colourful today than I think I've ever seen him.

The pet shop is moving and will most likely be in its new location by Friday. I'm going to ask if they'll be hiring anytime soon. Wish me luck!

[	mood	|	tired	]
[	music	|	Jet - Look What You've Done	]

Today my dad's golden retriever, Molly, was scratching on the door to be let in. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of hearing what that sounds like, imagine a freight train barreling past your front door; and also, it's scratching its fingernails on a blackboard. Yes, trains have fingernails.
She does this for two reasons; either she simply wants in, or she hears thunder/gunshots, which she is deathly afraid of.

I didn't feel like letting the big stinky meat sack in, so at first I did my usual trick of just throwing a glass of cold water on her, which worked well for about thirty minutes... then she started scratching again. This time, though, the door apparently wasn't shut all the way and Molly managed to force it open and come inside uninvited. This, my friends, made me angry. At first I was just going to let her stay inside because making her go out is often more trouble than it's worth, but then I realised that, in doing so, I was letting her win. The decision was made that I was going to force her out that door no matter what it took. I wouldn't have particularly minded letting her stay in, but it's the principle of the thing.

With most dogs I could have just given the command for them to go outside, and then give them a small whack on the nose if they didn't obey and that would have been enough, but since Molly is belligerent enough to just sit there and let you beat her mercilessly with any blunt object of your liking without ever obeying (mom has tested this many times,) I decided to go with a different approach. At first I had moderate success with giving her commands in an assertive voice and using my body to push her towards the door when she didn't obey (walking into her, basically,) but the closer we got to the door, the more resistant she became. Once we cleared the doorway to the little room right before the back door, Molly realised I was serious about this whole going outside business and decided to give me the slip while she still could, dashing back into the kitchen and planting her numerous mounds of flesh firmly on the floor.

Still determined, I started pushing her towards the door with my feet (yes pushing, not kicking,) all the while giving her the command to go outside. She fought me the entire way; digging her claws into the tile as best she could and basically doing a wonderful impression of an extremely heavy, fleshy piece of furniture with some kind of anti-sliding material on the bottom; a material known as lard. Getting her into that small room before the back door was relatively easy, and once inside there, I shut the door to the kitchen to make sure she couldn't pull that run-around-Samantha-and-escape trick again. This is where the hard part began. With the portal to the outside world looming so very near, Molly was putting up more of a fight than ever. It was easier for me to push her when her back end was facing me, so of course, she stood up only long enough to turn around so that her plentiful rump was facing the doorway. Now within only a couple of feet of the door, I couldn't move that dog no matter how hard I tried. I was already getting tired from all the effort, and Molly isn't exactly a lightweight girl. The only way I was going to be able to get her outside was to make her stand up -- but how?? That's when I spied a nearby broom. I shoved the handle under Molly's enormous bulk and used it as a lever to force her off the ground, at which point I took my chance to shove her nearer to the door with my legs. After about three rounds of this, I was finally able to make her go outside... and I made sure to shut the door well this time.

She hasn't scratched on the door again, either. Hopefully she'll remember this experience next time and just go out when I tell her to.

[	mood	|	okay	]
[	music	|	Death Cab for Cutie - I was a Kaleidoscope	]

So today I was surfing thefacebook.com and I passed over the profile of someone who was very artistic, in a band, yadda yadda. Normally this is the kind of person I can relate to and like, but this time, I was put off by something about them. Since I tend to overthink things, I paused for a moment trying to pinpoint what it was that I didn't like... then it came to me. They didn't seem genuine. Maybe they really were artistic and whatnot, but they were also playing that role; presenting that side of themselves and using it to attract attention. It's cool to be artistic, in a band, tormented, and all-around emo these days, you know.
This brings me to my point: I like genuine people. This is the single factor that almost guarantees whether or not I'm going to like someone. I like people don't try to pass themselves off as someone or something they're not. This is not to say that I hate people who wear a proverbial mask, because God knows I like to play dress-up and do that sometimes, but I don't like it when people try to pass that mask off as who they are. I may dress like someone else sometimes, but I'm honest about who I am. I'm not trying to be anyone but myself... in fact, I'm not even trying to do that; I'm just letting it happen. I think that if you ever find yourself trying to be someone, you're doing something wrong.

I rented Katamari Damashi yesterday. This has to be the weirdest fucking game I've ever played in my life. I came to this conclusion when I found myself scurrying around trying to roll up as many crabs as possible into my giant wad of stuff.

I should be writing a psychology paper or doing an evolution worksheet right now, but all I can think about is Spring break. I don't really have any plans, except that I'm going to a betta show in Houston on Sunday with Tristan. Yes, I'm dragging one of my unfortunate friends with me to a place that will probably be uber boring to any sane person. I'm actually going to the auction... the show is on Saturday, but you can't buy fish at the show itself. Someone from the Fish Forum will be there showing her fish, so with any luck I'll get to meet her.

Speaking of the Fish Forum, some people there are completely fucking insane. There was a thread the other day where someone claimed that worms can feel pain and "suffer horribly." No they can't. I'm sorry. Their nervous systems just aren't complex enough for that. They have reflex reactions and flight instinct, but that's about it. Scientifically speaking, it's even debatable whether or not fish can feel pain, so I'm sure worms can't. It's typical for people to assume all animals feel things the way we do and to humanize them, but I think that in doing so, we run the risk of losing the ability to appreciate a species for what it really is. It's like those people who treat their dogs like little furry humans... do you honestly think your dog enjoys wearing clothes? Let is be a dog, for Christ's sake.