Did you know that there are seventy-two different Star Wars M&M packages to collect?  They have several in each size and flavour combination.  Of course, now that they have the Darth Chocolate dark chocolate variety, there is no reason to buy the milk chocolate varieties--not even for Star Wars!  In fact, they're stupid refusal to make custom dark chocolate M&Ms has cost them a Star Wars Collectors Tin sale. 

 

So I warned our TFLAS team that we would need to read the new book in less than a week in order to best avoid spoilers.  I know we knew that the book release was close to Phoenix Con Games and Hexacon, but I don't know if we had realized how close.  Well, most of our HLA2 team bought the book opening day and was either able to finish the book before or early into the convention.   Ironically, I alone still haven't purchased the book. 

 

We warned players to avoid spoilers with narrators and other players, which worked as far as I heard.  I saw at least one player reading the book during meal periods, so I know not everyone had finished it yet.  Then James, one of our narrators, had to spoil something for me which he claims doesn't count because its in the first three pages of the book.  He obviously doesn't understand what spoiler-free means.  Everyone else was very respectful, though.

 

Hopefully, I can get the book and read it before DAL2. 

 

Thanks to Chris for the quiz!

I'll have to respectfully disagree with Ben about steeling yourself against death.  Last year I lost both Spunky and my friend and mentor Michael.  Love is something God calls us to throughout life.  Steeling yourself is the exact opposite of love.  It's the harding of our hearts which has caused great evil in this world.  Death is a natural part of our life here.  Steeling ourselves against it is as wrong as railing against it or mouring our loss.  All are selfish reactions, when God calls us to selflessness.

 

So, I broke down and built an lj today.  I'll use it as my fan and semi-pro gaming site.  Wayne built an lj community for our HLA and DAL games, so it seemed like the time had come to break down and make the account.  Real stuff about me will still be here, so I'd appreciate no real me stuff posted there folks.  Thanks in advance. 

 

Anyway, as I had been discussing, Jen's jaded view towards gender relations left me thinking.  Has our society really gone to the point where the act of procreation outside of marriage is a norm?  Looking at my various friends and acquaintances, I guess it must be so.  And yet, I still have a number of friends and acquaintances which would argue that we are the norm instead. 

 

Another thought that conversation brought to mind was what if all of my various female friends thought the same as her?  I guess it doesn't matter, but in a way it matters that people would think that of me.  You know what I mean?  Even though it shouldn't matter what other people think of me, the possibility that people might think I'm ruled by hormones does matter to some small part of me.  I guess I'm only human. 

 

Thanks to captain_e  for this quiz:

 

 

You scored as Darth Vader. Darth Vader 75% Obi Wan Kenobi 67% Yoda 67% Mace Windu 64% General Grievous 58% Anakin Skywalker 53% R2-D2 47% Chewbacca 44% C-3PO 39% Emperor Palpatine 36% Padme Amidala 36% Clone Trooper 22% Which Revenge of the Sith Character are you? created with QuizFarm.com

I remember back in high school when our cat disappeared, and Mom said that the cat (who had been acting sick recently) must have hidden somewhere to die to prevent being a burden to us.  Mom mourned her loss a lot, and promised that it would be awhile before she would be ready for another pet, but that once she was we'd discuss what kind of pet to get.

 

Then, a few days later when I got home from school there was a note left for me, warning me about the new kittens locked in the bathroom.  So much for that promise!  We suddenly had two new pets within a week of Sugar's death.  Well, while at first annoyed, I quickly came to love the cats.  The male was sweet and friendly, even licking my pants like he'd lick his sister's fur.  The female was the runt of the litter, of a different father, and had trouble with her bladder.  He was timid despite being big, while she was bold despite being small.  We eventually named them Spunky and Christmas respectively. 

 

The loved to eat the yarn off of balls of yarn, so the balls were confiscated.  So then they started eatting phone wires, electrical plug wires, and anything else that was thin and dangled like string.  As they grew up, Christmas got better at using a litter box (instead of using wherever she was at the time, such as my mother's bed), while Spunky became randomly moody.  He'd be sweet and loveable one moment, then turn and bite and claw the next, then wondering why you stopped being loveable the following moment.  He started bullying his sister, asserting alpha dominance. 

 

Flashforward a decade to when Mom remarried.  JR never got along with Spunky, so when they finally moved out Mom left her cats with me.  We lived happily for several years until eighteen months ago when Spunky had one to many heart attacks and passed away.  Christmas adapted to life without Spunky by showing her age.  When they were both alive, they were still acting like kittens at eleven.  Without Spunky she wouldn't run around as much with me, didn't perch as high on furniture, and would at times would walk in such a way as to betray arthritis.  In the past several months she began having troubles with waiting to use the litter box, instead using the hallway. 

 

Then, a month ago she quit eatting.  I tried getting her to eat her hard food, that failed.  I tried getting her to eat her favourite treat, canned salmon.  That also failed.  She was still drinking, but after a week of not eatting she began showing signs of breathing troubles.  I began force feeding her the salmon to increase her strength.  But after a couple of days of that her breathing returned to normal, and she had teh strength to lock her jaws against my force feeding.  The she started having diareha and vomitting of foam. 

 

The doctor said that she had a lung infection.  She wasn't eatting because cats have to smell their food to eat it.   I was to buy chicken baby food, warm it, and force feed that to her.  I was also to replace the water in her waterbowl with Pedialyte.  The veterinarian feared that an IV would be too great a shock to her system, but if the baby food and Pedialyte failed it was the next step.  Either way, she needed to be stronger before receiving the lung infection medicine.  She pulled the same thing with the baby food that she did with the salmon, eatting for a day until she was strong enough to lock her jaw shut against force feeding.  She kept drinkingthe Pedialyte, and her breathing returned to normal. 

 

Then she woke me Sunday morning with her first cry of pain that I'd heard from her during the entire illness.  She could barely breathe, and was obviously not going to last the day.  I canceled my LepreCon XXXII Committee Meeting ride, then called Mom and told her to come asap.  The doctor offered to murder her, so I reminded her that Kevorkian went to jail for the same thing and hung up.  Even if she ignores her Hippocratic Oath, I cannot ignore my faith's calls to fight this Culture of Death.  Did we "put to sleep" John Paul II in his last stages of life?  No, we respected him and let him live his remaining days with dignity.  How could I do anything less with a member of my family?

 

Christmas lasted long enough for Mom to arrive and say goodbye.  Mom then took her out to be burried next to her brother.  The only way Mom got to have her cats with her again was in death, which is a shame.  Mom's taking it hard.  She started crying and couldn't remain with Christmas those last few minutes of life.  She cried several times that day, and even when she was over yesterday.  She loved those cats very much, and I know she hated not being there for Spunky's death.  You might pray for her. 

 

It was hard watching Christmas waste away that last week.  Yet, I'd not trade it for the world.  She always seemed appreciate when I'd be by her side, only fighting me when I wanted her to eat.  She loved being brushed and talked to, even when she quit giving herself baths.  She'd lay right up against me to go to sleep.  Even on her last day, she'd raise her head up when I'd speak to her and look peacefully into my eyes, until her strength was used up and her head would drop involuntarily.  Even then, if I'd get to her level on the ground, she still look at me with the eyes she'd use when she wanted to be petted. 

 

Of course, I'd have preferred she didn't have to go.  But the night of Spunky's death I knew that Christmas's death wouldn't be so simple.  Yet, his death also prepared me for the eventually of her death.  So while I didn't like the fact that she was dying, I was surprisingly not as upset as I usually am when something happens beyond my control.  Perhaps it was because I could control how much assistance I could give her.  Or perhaps I was too concerned for her wellbeing at the time.  Or perhaps I'm just maturing.  I know I wasn't getting much sleep at the time, so I was perhaps a bit more testy with friends, coworkers, and customers that week;  so I obviously still have much more growth to go. 

 

I thank God for putting Christmas and Spunk in my life--for the joy, the sorrow, and the lessons learned these last twelve years.

 

RIP Spunky 31 March 1993 - 10 January 2004

RIP Christmas 31 March 1993 - 10 July 2005