I read somewhere (can’t recall where, or I would credit them) that the word “sexy” is being used as a catch-all term for “good, positive, happy, nifty, etc.” While I wouldn’t call a glass of iced tea “sexy,” I would call a few other things “sexy” – as well as not, like so…

Sexy: A girl who drives a stick shift
Not So Sexy: A girl who drives a stick shift station wagon

Sexy: Conserving water by showering with a friend
Not So Sexy: Conserving water by not showering

Sexy: Doing something creative on a date
Not So Sexy: Doing someone uncreatively on a date

Sexy: Singing along to the car radio while stuck in traffic
Not So Sexy: Singing along to your iPod while stuck at your desk at work

Sexy: Letterboxing
Not So Sexy: Geocaching

Sexy: Ballroom dancing with a dust mop in your kitchen
Not So Sexy: Dirty dancing with an upright vacuum in your living room

Sexy: Taking your kid to register to vote on his 18th birthday
Not So Sexy: Hiring your kid an “escort” for his 18th birthday

Sexy: Dating someone you met online
Not So Sexy: Getting knocked up by someone you met online

Sexy: Washing your lover’s hair
Not So Sexy: Washing vomit out of your lover’s hair

Sexy: Naming your kid after a beloved childhood friend
Not So Sexy: Nick-naming your lover after a beloved childhood pet (such as your dog named Tramp)

Sexy: Gmail
Not So Sexy: G-men

Sexy: Leaving surprise “I love you” notes for someone in the book they’re reading
Not So Sexy: Writing “helpful suggestions” in the margins of the sex manual you bought them

Sexy: Long walks on the beach, barefoot
Not So Sexy: Long walks on the beach, in stiletto heels

Sexy: Throwing your parents a “golden wedding anniversary” party
Not So Sexy: Throwing your parents a “it’s about time you got divorced” party

Sexy: Ice skating
Not So Sexy: Ice fishing

Sexy: A tiny dab of perfume on your pulse points
Not So Sexy: A not-so-tiny cascade of cologne anywhere on your body

Sexy: Wearing a T-Shirt Hell shirt on the weekend
Not So Sexy: Wearing a T-Shirt Hell shirt to court

Sexy: Sending flirty text messages to that special someone
Not So Sexy: Sending flirty text messages to your dad or your boss because you accidentally hit the wrong button

Sexy: Throwing a boomerang at the local park for fun exercise
Not So Sexy: Shrieking & running in panic when the boomerang actually comes back at you

Sexy: Retail therapy
Not So Sexy: Voodoo doll therapy

Sexy: Jokingly calling a former boyfriend/girlfriend “the ex who will not die”
Not So Sexy: Seriously calling a former boyfriend/girlfriend “the psycho who ruined my life”

Sexy: Beach-party theme night at the local pub
Not So Sexy: Pirate karaoke night at the local pub

Sexy: Having a famous writer fictionally kill off your ex-girlfriend
Not So Sexy: Having an infamous hit man actually kill off your ex-girlfriend

The Portland Public School District has some really interesting (and theoretically effective) programs, such as the Happy Hippie School (not its real name) that my youngest attends, and the Upper Crust Hippie School (also not its real name) that one of Angst’s friends attends. (A school that celebrates Winter Solstice, and where the teachers are addressed by their first names? So Hippie It Hurts.)

Angst has, unfortunately, been to 4 schools in 4 years, and – I learned when I received a packet from the district in the mail a couple days ago – is scheduled to be enrolled in a fifth for the upcoming school year. Only one of those transitions was my fault (we moved from inner SE to outer SE, during her 7th grade year, so she went to 2 different middle schools).

Her first year in high school, she went to a “regular” school, and her report cards were dreadful. (This is the kid who’s been reading at a college level since she was 11, and jumped 3 grade levels in proficiency in math after a few months at Sylvan Learning Center, so she’s far from stupid and she can be very motivated.) Then that particular school failed the “No Kid Left Behind” standards so spectacularly that the Gates Foundation (yup, those Gateses) pitched in a bunch o’ money to “restructure” the school into 4 “magnet” schools on one campus, with each “magnet” school having a different curriculum. Angst wanted to go to the Arts school but was arbitrarily stuck into the International school, and her sophomore report cards were every bit as miserable as her freshman year.

So, faced with another year at that campus/school, she did the smart thing and requested a transfer to another school, which is closer to our home (and which coincidentally was used for many scenes in Mr. Holland’s Opus, which caused me no end of confused deja vu when I walked into the school’s auditorium for the first time, several years after seeing the movie but before I knew the movie had filmed there!). She got approved for the transfer – but then she was told that the school/campus she was attending was being restructured yet again, and she could go to the Arts school! So she withdrew her transfer request, and all summer we’ve believed she was going into the Arts school at the campus she’s attended for the past 2 school years.

Nope. We were notified that she’s on the enrollment list for the Science/Tech school (yet another arbitrary assignment with zero input from her or her parents!). My fiction-writing, photography-crazy, RHPS-cabaret-member, unabashedly-creative kid, going to a school that focuses on math, science, & technical courses? Hmm, can I get a great big “NO”?! I’m pretty darned certain that her attending that school is a recipe for masochistic misery, and yet more phenomenally-crappy report cards. But what alternative do we have?

I’ll find out, if the principal for the Science/Tech school deigns to call me back and discuss the options. PPS has a few dozen “alternative” programs, although it’s likely that Angst wouldn’t be eligible for more than one or two, and despite some serious digging, I have very little information on the enrollment possibilities for the immediate school year. But the fact is that Angst will not graduate high school on time (summer of ‘07), regardless of what program or campus she attends, and it’s quite likely that she won’t have the minimum credits to graduate at all, regardless of what programs are available. (An extra year, called “super senior” by the local kids, isn’t an option since she will be almost 19 when her regular senior year ends.) So I’m still going to find out what “alternative” program might be available, but at this point it looks like Angst has one of two options: A) drop out, get a GED, and attend community college courses; or B) be homeschooled.

Once I found out how ridiculously easy it is to homeschool your kid in Oregon, I have been leaning toward that option. But it’s Angst’s choice, because she’s the one who has to live with the consequences. That’s what it comes down to, in any case, and this particular decision could impact her future for quite some time to come. So if she chooses it, she’s going to have to be quite responsible & self-directed, and I think that’s actually a realistic expectation. Beanpole was homeschooled for a while, and he’s already made several good suggestions in just the brief discussion we’ve had about it. So we’ll see…

During my lunch break at work today, I was scanning the newspaper that someone had so kindly left behind. I read this article and this article (hopefully the links still work after a day or two) about a lynx that allegedly attacked a 6-yr-old, and I take exception to a few things.

First, let me say that I do not support nor condone the keeping of wild mammals or birds, or poisonous reptiles, as pets. (Fish and non-poisonous reptiles? Sure, no problem, as long as you care for them properly.) I really don’t think it’s appropriate – or safe! – to keep wild cats, which seem to be the most commonly kept “exotic pet.” They are wild animals, and should not be thought of as “pets” under any circumstances.

Now on to my opinions on the article. First, I find it really hard to believe that a declawed lynx that is accustomed to human beings “pounced on the head” of a 6-yr-old with no provocation whatsoever. It might have jumped up at the child, and bumped her, but it almost certainly did not “pounce on” her head. One of the articles state that the child said the lynx “tried to bite” her head, but the article also states the child was unscathed & suffered no visible injuries. If a lynx wanted to bite a kid, it would. That kid certainly would not have gotten away without a mark on her. So is the kid “exaggerating” (lying), or did the cat just frighten her so much that she doesn’t really know what happened? I don’t think that’s a tough call.

Second, one of the articles states:

Before killing the lynx, deputies tried to snare the animal or shoot it with a Taser, but they were unable to get close enough. “When they tried to approach it, it took a defensive stance.”

Hello?! This cat just had a woman beat on it with a brick! Do you think maybe the cat was thereafter confused and terrified? Absolutely, no question. Any animal that is afraid is going to posture defensively if it can’t get away. There’s this thing called a “fight or flight” reflex, guys. It’s not rocket science that this poor animal was utterly terrified (and justifiably, since it was shot & killed).

Third, the article states that the mother of the child “was distressed that someone could keep a lynx as a pet.” I will bet you a hundred dollars that woman never once thought of wild cats being kept as pets as a problem before in her entire life. I don’t believe for one second that she gives a damn about wild animals being kept as pets for any reason other than the impact it could have on her personally.

And lastly, the segment of the article that prompted me to speak up about this in the first place, the article states that the lynx’s owner “also owns a serval, an African wildcat similar to a cheetah.” No, it’s not. A cheetah is classified as a large wildcat, weighing from 90 to 140 lbs (40 to 65 kg). Its total body length is from 45 in to 55 in (112 to 135 cm), and it is 30+ inches (75+ cm) at the shoulder. This is a very large cat, powerfully-muscled and capable of reaching speeds of up to 70 mph in a short sprint. A cheetah is not cross-fertile with domestic cats. You cannot have a cheetah in your house for any length of time unless you are clearly insane.

A serval, on the other hand, is a small-to-medium wildcat, weighing up to 40 lbs (18 kg) but on average 20 to 30 pounds (9 to 14 kg), with a body length averaging 34 inches (85 cm) plus a 16 inch (40 cm) tail. They are about 22 inches (55 cm) tall at the shoulder. They are cross-fertile with domestic cats. While I don’t recommend it, you could theoretically keep a serval in a home, if it had additional exercise outdoors. Does that sound at all “similar to a cheetah”?!

For the Oregonian to be describing a serval as “similar to a cheetah” is flat-out alarmist, prejudicial, and totally inaccurate.

It’s been a relatively quiet weekend. Lyse has been visiting since she’s been on leave, and that’s been nice, but she had to go home before her cat threw any wild parties.

I had a nasty migraine yesterday, and it came back today, which is bad. But it was the first in two weeks, which is good. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

All things considered, it was a very unproductive but fairly relaxing weekend. I can’t complain too much.

I had this lovely, long-ish post about Daria’s Local Entertainment Guide, which got wiped because I tried to preview it before I saved it, and that sucks a LOT and so I’m rawther cranky about it. I’m not going to spend another 20 minutes re-creating my clever recommendation regarding this clever radio spot, because I am currently too pissy to have anything resembling that sort of patience. Suffice it to say:

“Queen Ho of Slut Island” is the funniest fuq’ing thing I’ve heard all week, and I adore Daria for coming up with that phrase.

(If Daria does not actually write the Local Entertainment Guide, do not tell me or I will be horribly disillusioned and quite possibly have to bother you with endless recitations of my childbirth stories and/or snarky critiques of my former lovers’ sexual techniques. With more TMI than you can shake a stick at.)

Daria O’Neil is the only voice I ever want to hear on the radio.

(Now I very carefully hit the “update” button…)

I can’t decide which of my demonspawn is worse – the one who is so addicted to silly online quizzes that she paid her sister 50,000 neopoints for 2 links to quizzes, or the one who was so shrewd and evil as to practically swindle her sister out of the neopoints for a couple of URLs.

My brain hurts now.

So Karel linked to the evil little desktop toy manager called Konfabulator, which runs gadgets called widgets, and now I have oodles of fun stuff cluttering up my desktop:

Widgets that came with it: Picture Frame (displays pics from your compy), The Weather (shows weather & forecast for your zip code), & the Werewolf Monitor (displays the moon’s phase)
Have A Day – Gives you a happy face with various messages, cute & evil
Kitty Clock – A clock with whiskers, mine is (of course) purple
Glass Binary Clock – A binary clock, mine is (once again) purple
Mini Calendar – Just what it says…and guess what color?
TremorSkimmer – Tells you all about recent earthquakes all over the world. Why? Because I’m morbid, I guess.
Runecaster – Displays a supposedly-random rune with name (you have to find the meaning yourself)

So my desktop looks like this:

Now I wonder what will happen when I have so many nifty toys on my desktop that the screen is too crowded to find anything?!

* Do you select your friends based on how well your cats like them?
* Does your desire to collect cats intensify during times of stress?
* Do you buy more than 50 pounds of cat litter a month?
* Do you scoop out the litter box after each use? Do you wait at the box with the scoop in your hand?
* Do you think it’s cute when your cat swings on the drapes or licks the butter?
* Do you admit to non-cat owners how many cats you really have?
* Do you sleep in the same position all night because it annoys your cats when you move?
* Do you kiss your cat on the lips?
* Do you feed your cat tidbits from the table with your fork?
* Does your cat sit at the table (or ON the table) when you eat?
* Does your cat sleep on your head? Do you like it?
* Do you have more than four opened but rejected cans of cat food in the refrigerator?
* Do you watch bad TV because the cat is sleeping on the remote?
* Did you buy a video tape of fish swimming in an aquarium to entertain your cat?
* Will you stand at the open door indefinitely in the freezing rain while your cat sniffs the door, deciding whether to go out or come in?
* Would you rather spend a night at home with your cat than go out on a bad date?
* Do you give your cat presents and a stocking at Christmas? Do you spend more for your cat than you do for your spouse?
*Do the Christmas cards you send out feature your cat sitting on Santa’s lap? Does your cat sign the card?
* Do you put off making the bed until the cat gets up?
* Does your cat eat out of cut crystal stemware because you both watched the same commercial on television?
* Do you microwave your cat’s food? Prepare it from scratch?
* Do you climb out of bed over the headboard or footboard, so you won’t disturb the sleeping cat?
* At the store, do you pick up the cat food and kitty litter before you pick out anything for yourself?
* Do you cook a special turkey for your cat on holidays?
* Does your cat “insist” on a fancy Sunday breakfast consisting of an omelet made from eggs, milk, and salmon, halibut, or trout?
* Do you have pictures of your cat in your wallet? Do you bring them out when your friends share pictures of their children? (Pollsters claim that 40 percent of cat owners carry their pet’s pictures in their wallets, by the way.)
* When people call to talk to you on the phone, do you insist that they say a few words to your cat as well?
* Do you accept dates only with those who have a cat? If so, do you eventually double-date with the cats to see how they get along?
* When someone new comes to your house, do you introduce your cat, by name, to them?

One thing that continually intruigues me about cats is how they live so compatibly with humans, are so similar to us in many ways, but always have a mysterious charm and attractive alienness. They’re “domesticated” yet remain almost wild – nothing your sweet little housecat does is very far removed from what a tiger or jaguar does. They’re very nearly magical.

Tasha was smart and coordinated enough to drink out of glasses – sometimes sticking her entire head inside one – without ever tipping it over or spilling. (By comparison, my current kitty Hasani has knocked over approximately 247 beverage containers, because he knows there’s liquid in there and he wants to get it out…but he hasn’t yet connected the spill that results with his tipping over the glasses!) Tigger’s big trick was holding very still for seemingly forever, being a living cat statue. Ah, the “joys” of a Keanu cat – all looks & no brains!

Picture, that is. My cousin Lyse is at least as cat-crazy as I am. She raised her cat Wolverine from a tiny kitten too young to eat catfood, to become the big lug he is now. I don’t have any pic of her cat, but I do have a pic of her with onr of my cats, so here it is:

This was taken when Lyse came all the way from Pennsylvania to visit me (on her way to her new duty station). Lyse totally rocks!

(Only half an hour to go…and I am so incredibly ready for bed!!!)