More blogs, dieting, technology, OCD and rats: A day in the life

So, statistically it seems that the more posts I write, the more views I get. Weird, that. My blogging’s kinda fallen flat over the holidays, but one in a slew of resolutions I made up last week is to write more. Easy when I don’t have a job. A, so that my blog becomes somewhat interesting (the more posts, the more likely one of them will be interesting) and B, so that I can get ready for grad school (if I’m accepted, and spend the next few months till September weeping alternately in joy and despair). (Come to think of it, that’ll be the response no matter WHAT the outcome, so I may as well start stocking up on tissue now…)

Another resolution was to lose the 14 pounds I’ve gained since summer. So far, not going very well. Granted, I only resolved this last Tuesday, after eating an entire bucket of pulled pork poutine and having my stomach decide that was all I was allowed to eat for the day; but since last Tuesday I’ve lost 3 pounds and decided that Tuesdays will not only be comic days, but cheat days. This will entirely cause me to remember to update comics regularly, as I most likely stuff my face with as many carbs will fit at a time. Carbs = comics. And possibly coronaries, depending on which oil is used to fry them mercilessly.

A resolution I really should make is learning not to be afraid of technology. My beloved 7 year old phone died by beheading almost a year ago, and the phone I’ve had since (still a flip phone) has encountered more physical damage than any phone known to mankind, yet – and this is the strange part – I have not once dropped, hit, soaked, crushed, stepped on or even so much as dampened it. Yet despite my care of it, it is currently being shipped back to Nokia to have its USB charging port reinserted. Yes, that’s right – the charging port fell out. How does that even happen? Especially to a phone that still has its plastic screen protector still on it. Anyway, the point of this long paragraph is to explain that I am terrified of the loaner smartphone they’ve given me. QWERTY keyboards don’t work with just thumbs! My nails make an odd clicky sound that I hate and the screen is so big and what protects it when it doesn’t have a cover to flip down? A text from my brother derides me first for being a hipster, then when the truth is revealed, for just being too plain stupid to use this thingummybobber. My denture glue is enough technology for me.

One more final resolution that I just came up with now: stop being so damn OCD. I once read a book where a girl developed extreme OCD and then through sheer will power became OCD about losing her OCD. For example, she would dare herself NOT to touch the doorknob three times before leaving a room, and eventually, NOT touching doorknobs became her tendency. Unless she had to use them, I assume. I also forget which book this is, so I don’t remember how it ends, but if she ends up dying of bacterial infection after NOT washing her hands constantly, this resolution’s off.

(Bonus points to anyone who can spot the OCD tendency I ignored in this post… I’m off to a good start!)

P.S. Rat update… the stripey dominant son is named Buster, the spotty adventurous son is named Bowser, and the cinnamon blue hooded Papa used to be named Barney (but for some reason I kept calling him Bryan) so now his name is Babydaddy. Nice and simple and alliterative.

New additions!

My own little family has grown today… I adopted three ickle baby ratties!

Well, technically, two baby ratties and their papa.

I’ve missed the pitter-patter of tiny, sharp claws on metallic rungs and high pitched squeaks during a scrap over food. (Sounds weird but is actually true.) What I haven’t missed is the possibly infected nail scratches I’ve sustained already. I am putting a brick in there for scratching as soon as I can.

Right now they’re trying to figure out how Papa got bread, if there’s more, and how they can get some. They were sleeping peacefully in a pile of rodent until I threw some crusts in the cage (this is excellent, they eat food scraps and leftovers) and papa literally jumped off the babies and onto the food dish, then scurried away into the igloo with his prize. I can hear them shuffling around in the bedding still. Papa’s not a very good paternal figure, possibly because Mama is absent and he’s only one year old. Kids these days… having kids while still kids themselves. *shakes head disappointedly*

Anyway, I’m looking for names for Papa & co. My baby sister suggested Bowser, Fox, and Kirby (because she was playing Smash Bros at the time); my mum likes the musical theatre-inspired names Princeton, Oscar, and Leaf Coneybear; but looking at these scratchy, tiny balls of whiskers, I’m thinking of Barney, Bowser, and Buster (after HIMYM, Mario, and Arrested Development/Arthur). For now they’re just Stripey, Spotty, and Papa.

Any thoughts/suggestions for names? I did get the suggestion “Rats Domino,” so if anyone can beat that my hat is off to you and I may have to swear eternal fealty to your wit in the name of all things puntacular.