Cool

September 15, 2011

I've just come to the horrifying realization that I use the word “cool” when something is so impressive/interesting that I speak without thinking.

Cool?. Really?. Sounds like something from the eighties or nineties to me :P

That's not really related to anything else in this post, but I figured I should tell everybody so they'd know why it is that I chose this particular title for my blog post.

So my sleep has been being mean to me again and so I'm sleeping during the day and staying awake all night. Sometimes I wonder if I should plan my life along those lines. Then I'd probably be waking up at 7AM instead of feeling like going to sleep :P

Yesterday it occurred to me that I now have a room that's completely safe to have Chewy in. There's a door, so the cats can't come wandering in. And said door has a lock, so nobody else can come in either.

I also realized that I could care less what Chewy smells like, and vacuuming my room is half the pain it used to be. After reasoning all this, I decided to bring Chewy in.

Even though he hasn't been in the house in probably close to a year (if not more), he actually still remembers all of his 'manners', except for keeping his nose of the dish washer.

Still, he remembers to stay out of the garbage can, stay behind me when I'm walking and not wander off. Most importantly, he remembers not to 'go' inside the house.

He actually remembers so well that sits without command for me to put his leash on to leave the room and when I'm heading towards my room, he tries to go to my old room. He knows where I'm going, and he remembers where I used to live. Cool.

Yesterday went off pretty much without a hitch, except when Granny let Cody and Ricky in and they came face-to-face with Chewy.

It worked out though, he didn't try to chase them and I put him out in the yard while the cats ate, then let them out the front door.

Around seven this morning, I decided to do what I'd done yesterday. I figure this won't work out as a regular thing, but I should let him in when I can. Especially since I probably won't be able to have him in ever this time next year :\

So first I let the cats in for their morning meal. Scout, Ricky and Cody all came in.

Cody, naturally, ate first. Frequently, he'll let the others go first. But when they haven't eaten all night, he goes first, as the 'lead' cat, it's his right.

Usually he wants right back out, but for some reason this morning it was nothin' doin'.

I thought “oh no, now that I've got Chewy out in the backyard waiting to come in, Cody will up and decide to sleep on my bed or something”.

But he stayed near the door and meowed at me whenever I passed, following me to the food dish, where he'd stop and sit down, looking pointedly at Ricky or Scout (whichever was at the bowl).

It didn't make any sense to me. There was food in the dish and he'd already eaten. What was the matter with that cat?. Finally, Ricky and Scout were done.

Scout went right outside, but Ricky went upstairs. But when he heard the front door open, Ricky came right down. Cody sat in the door until Ricky was out, then went out himself.

It was then that it hit me. Cody was protecting Ricky and Scout.

He knew I'd had Chewy in yesterday, and I probably would again today.

Cody was making sure Ricky and Scout got out before I brought Chewy in. Cool.

Yesterday when I was writing and listening to music, I noticed that Chewy's behavior changed when the mood of my story changed. He seemed to sense how I was reacting to my story (my emotions are generally swept along with the story, even if the reader would never be affected) or the music I was hearing. Paying closer attention today, I found that he was, indeed, responding.

If it is an especially sad piece of music or place in the story, he will whine and come to lie right next to my chair with his ears lowered and eyes on me.

If the music or part of the story has me feeling angry or aggressive, he will get up and pace around, turning his ears back and forth. He'll lie down somewhere, then immediately get up with kind of a grunt sound, then pace some more. Then he'll lie down again.

If it's a very intense (usually action, but sometimes not) part of the story, I'll forget about everything around me until I'm finished, whereupon I'll suddenly realize I'm being stared at. He'll be standing pressed up against my chair, staring intently at my keyboard.

Very cool indeed.

This isn't something I've recently noticed, I've actually known for some time.

If I'm in the front yard or house with Chewy on leash, the cats simply aren't as worried as when he's loose. Still, they'll run when he's a yard or so away from them (if they can).

All except Cody- if I've called Cody by name and looked him in the eye (it does have to be both).

Somehow he knows that I would never intentionally jeopardize him and I can actually come within two feet with Chewy, if I've acknowledge Cody.

If I haven't he runs just like all the rest. Somehow he knows that I haven't seen him if I haven't looked at him and talked to him. And if I haven't seen him, I don't know to keep Chewy away.

I don't know how Cody actually reasons all this or how he knows the things he does, but it's pretty darn cool if you ask me.

Last on the cool list may not mean much to most of you guys, but it's pretty interesting to me.

If my stomach (underside, if I were a dog) is somehow facing Chewy (say I'm looking under the bed for something or leaning over him to reach the counter because he's in front of me), he will instantly avert his eyes. Now, I know what some of you would think. You'd think he's being polite and not staring (unlike most cats, who will intentionally- at least it seems that way -paw all over you).

But what it actually appears to be is that he's being respectful to someone dominant in the pack.

A submissive dog shows their belly to a dominant dog. And, apparently, averts his eyes from the dominant animal's belly. I've never read about this, but it makes instant sense.

The belly and throat areas are especially vulnerable, so the submissive dog in the pack is exposing himself to the dominant one's sharp teeth and strong jaws. He's firstly showing the other that he means it no harm, everybody's heard about that.

But it's important to note that the dominant dog has a certain responsibility to the submissive one.

While he can bully the submissive dog, even decide to bite and hurt it, he also has the responsibility to take care of the submissive one. It's the dominant dog's job to defend the territory, find food and take the greatest risk in bringing down the prey.

The submissive is showing his belly not just as a sign that the other is dominant over him, but that he trusts the dominant dog not to hurt him.

You see, when dogs who don't know each other meet, they determine who is dominant over whom. This is generally done simply by sniffing, but sometimes they have to “show off” a little. They stand straight when they exchange identities by sniffing. But by the time introductions are over, one has his tail and head a little lower. This is the submissive dog.

But this dog will not roll over and show his belly to the other dog. And a fight may break out if the dominant dog tries to make him.

Obviously, he accepts that he is submissive to the other dog, but does not trust it enough to show his throat. He doesn't trust the dog not to hurt him.

When interacting with people, most dogs routinely roll over to have their belly rubbed. They seem to actually like it. But they also show their belly and lay their head back to show their throat for another reason. They're letting us know that we are dominant over them and they trust us to take care of them.

It's generally accepted that a dog who will not roll over considers himself dominant.

And a dog that rolls over at the drop of a hat has been abused and thinks that's the only way not to get beaten up or driven away.

But I have personally met dogs which obviously obey their owners, but will not roll over.

These are usually recently acquired dogs, who are trained but don't yet know their new owner.

Typically, after they've been with their new owner for a few weeks or months, they roll right over.

Evidently, rolling over is a sign of not only submission, but of trust as well.

But why do dogs roll over so easily?.

Well that's simple. With the exception of young, intact males, most dogs would much rather be submissive than dominant. That's because a lot is expected of a dominant dog.

He has the job of guarding the territory, maintaining order within the pack, finding food and deciding what sort of behavior is and is not appropriate for the members of the pack- especially puppies.

Not only that, but he must constantly fight to prove himself.

The strongest wolf does not always make the leader. If he is incompetent, the others will know and will either gang up on him and kill him- or leave entirely.

Your normal dog simply does not want that kind of responsibility.

By averting his eyes rather than staring, Chewy is letting me know he wants no part of my responsibilities as leader of his pack.

Obviously, he trusts me to make the right decisions for him, not to hurt him, to protect him and do what's best for him. So much so that he has no desire to challenge my authority- even if I am unknowingly giving him the opportunity to do so.

Of course, it's not so profound in all dogs. Like I said, most simply don't want responsibility.

Most are actually bred, raised and trained to behave like puppies.

They know they are not qualified to be leader.

But Chewy is much closer to wolf than most dogs. And he has challenged my authority time and again over the years. He's a very smart dog, a very capable dog and is very dominant towards other dogs.

Among dogs, he's either top dog or there will be a fight, no matter the size or strength of the other dog.

Since most dogs are very docile by nature and have practically forgotten their aggressive instincts, they back right off. They simply don't know how to approach a fight.

But Chewy does. And has fought several dogs over the years, always coming out on top.

Still, he's older now. And when I see him asleep, he seems so small and frail to me, compared to how he was. He used to really be something impressive to see, even when sleeping.

I'm older too. I actually outweigh him, and know something about handling dogs.

Apparently, for one reason or the other, he's made the decision for himself not to fight me anymore.

Way beyond cool.

THE Batman against a Freaked-Out Palm Tree

This was actually mostly written by July 16th, but then a bunch of craziness happened and I didn't have time (or energy) to finish it. But now, here it is, in all of it's badly written (and animated) glory....

 

 

Written on: August 2, 2011

Yeah I know, I haven't done one of these in a REALLY long time and y'all thought I never would do another one did you?. Well HA!. Shows what you know.

Anyway, this one's a bit different from my previous ones for three reasons.

Reason Number 1: This is half an hour long.

Reason Number 2: I'm making this stuff up AS I'm watching it for the very first time.

Reason Number 3: I actually spread the writing over multiple days

Because I actually had to rent this (as it is apparently NEVER, EVER going to become stream-able) I'm gonna make the most of it.

Meaning, I am definitely going to finish this (unlike the TMNT/Power Rangers cross-over. I couldn't finish WATCHING that, much less writing about it XP).

If you ever care to know, this is the pilot for the 2004 animated series The Batman, which some people claim is somehow related to both Batman: The Animated Series and Batman Beyond. Not sure how.

Also, for those of you who prefer my tales of real life or my apparently controversial posts or my random thoughts, those shall return..... whenever it is that they feel like it. So there :P

Just so you know “when I write stuff like this” they're actually saying that.

When I write “like this” that's just what I think ought to be said there.

So.... Bat in The Belfry....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

M'kay... first thing I'm seein' is that the sky is green. Freakin' GREEN!!!. Oh, and the buildings are all slanted. Did these people draw while standing on their heads perhaps?. Well done there, then.

Ew... close up of animated sweaty guy. The zoom out didn't help.

There is Sir Enormous Dude, who has a.... sniper rifle?. Rocket launcher?. What IS that!? O.O

Oh yeah, there's also the other token thug. That little guy with wacky hair and crazy eyes ~8(

“He's here” Yep. This is the intro for a Batman episode alright.

The sweaty guy is wearing sandles. Thanks for that close up.

Ooh look!. A cat!. No... that's a shadow.....

Captain Crazy Eyes has a chain. Sorry, dude, but your buddy outdid ya.

Sir Enormous has... a Sniper Rocket!. Or... something to that effect.

“THERE!!” A whoosh noise!. Omigosh, I'm so surprised!.

So... yeah... safe bet these guys are.... evil?.

They also have ugly curtains. Seriously, you're that terrified and you're in a room with open windows!!.

*chink* Ooh so shinay!! 8D. Now it's back to being a shadow.

Gee.. I wonder if that could have been Bat.... SHH!!!. We don't know about him yet!.... oh, right...

Gee.. I wonder if he's afraid of that guy in the shadows with the shiny objects... hmm....

Yep. I guess so. Well, there goes Sir Enormous Dude's sniper cannon. So much for that.

Here's a question, why are they in the dark?. I mean, it's dark outside. But they're NOT outside.

Sir Enormous and Crazy Eyes leap into the shadows and presumably get the living daylights kicked out of them. I guess the violence might have frightened the children...

Oh yep, there they are. All unconscious but not like... you know... bleeding or bruised at all.

See those creepy eyes in the shadows?. Those belong to a solitary and very rare bat with enormous slanted eyes shaped like almonds.

Sweaty guy finds that pretty darn scary. Ewww.... they drew hair on his chest... ewww....

And now he's doing the dumbest thing you can do when you have a Superhero in your living room who wants to knock your lights out. He's offering money.

What does he think a dude like Batman is gonna do with that?. Make a spare mask with it?.

It should come as no great surprise to anyone that Batman is not impressed.

So sweaty guy runs through curtains and leaps onto the window sill.

Gee, it's really far down. Must be all of... six feet. He'll never escape!!.

Oh, how brave. He DOES jump. And then runs like only a tubby animated character can.

And... that is just about the creepiest expression I have ever seen.

Run camera, run for your life!. AHHHH!!!.

Oh good, Batman stopped him from hurling himself at us. Whew, that was close.

Thanks, Batman!. You saved us :D

The sky. It is still green. Like... the color of well-watered grass green O.o

Seriously, you guys did all the detailing on these kinda lousy slanted buildings, and yet... green.

AHH!. A boot!. Oh, now we see Batman clearly for the first time, carefully back-lit by the conveniently full moon- AHHH!!!!!!!!!.

He's got muscles where NOBODY should EVER have muscles. And... like... no torso.

His chest just goes right into his legs, with their fearsome kneecaps O.o

Okay.... I'm not gonna make fun of his eyes any more. I promise.

Oh yeah, in addition to no torso... this guy has no hips. His thighs seem to be attached directly to his spine, which must be incredibly strong to support all those wacky, wacky muscles XD.

I can see why this guy is scared of him.

He's probably the most terrifying thing since.... well... at least since that female mutant turtle *shudder*.

“How do you do that?”

“I'm The Batman”

I like how his cape is all blowing in the breeze, then suddenly sweeps around him.

Does he time his words with the wind?. Can you get breeze reports in Gotham?. Cool.

Oh yeah, the one and only Batman..... wait a second...

AH!. No, no closeup!. HELP!. Get it away!. Get it away from me!!.

Ah, why thank you fade out. That's much better.

Hey wait a second!. Now the sky is orange. And the moon has a spider stuck in it...

“Commissioner Gordon, I do believe something is wrong with our sky”

Oh..... this is the theme song. No wonder the sky is weird. So... I'm not gonna describe this because the music is nondescript and the stuff keeps going by REALLY.... hey, you stole that from TMNT!...

Oh good, it's over.

AUGH!. Now the background buildings are green too!.

“Ah, my fiendish plan is working perfectly. Yesterday the sky, today the background, tomorrow... the world!. Mwahahahaha!!!”

So.. here's Batman...err THE Batman.. leaping into.. KITT?. Wait no. it's blue and black, never mind.

AUGH!. No closeups there!. I don't CARE if he's being safe and putting his seat belt on!.

SHOOF!. Time to drive... not KITT into the dusty... place ahead of him. Ah, who cares where he's going, that car spits blue flame out the back.

And.... we got left behind to watch the police dudes (Shut up) collect their captive criminals.

ACK!. His gloves have claws!. Where will the madness end!?.

Now watch as he drives into a secret entrance in... a giant hotel?... With wood-covered windows...

And now he's driving down a secret passageway... pretty sure the new Knight Rider stole that...

And now, safe in the batcave... AH!.

Alfred has big google eyes O.O and his mouth has vanished into his mustache without a trace.

I think that half second of techno music as The Batman removed his cowl was laughing.

I'll laugh too. He. He. He.

YAY!. Birthday cake!. Wait... three candles??....

I guess Bruce is three years old today. Man, he got started on this whole Batman thing kinda young.

Maybe THAT'S why he's so misshapen. He just needs to grow a torso yet, then he'll be fine.

While he's at it, maybe he could grow more cheek bone. Or perhaps he's just starving...

OH. It's his anniversary. Three years ago, he married a cowl. Proposed to a cape. Wait, what does that mean?. Anyway, he became THE Batman.

Too bad. I guess that means he'll never get that torso he always wanted. So... where is he gonna put that cake?. I mean... he's all arms, legs and chest and, presumably, his chest contains the usual things people's chests have. Like lungs.

Now he's gotta make a wish. With a frown like that, thinking of one must be painful.

Oh, yep. He wishes his parents were alive.

But he's not allowed to wish for that. So he's not gonna.

So he's just gonna blow out the candles... to their memory.

Meanwhile, where the sky is green and the buildings are slanted....

Oh. Now we're in a building. Doesn't anybody in this film believe in wallpaper?.

Look!. Picture of a bunch of people with weirdo hair cuts!.

And here's Bruce. Totally not being self-centered by watching himself on the news. Or in any case, watching people TALK about him on the news.

There are no decorations in this ENTIRE room. This huge room!.

And that is the tiniest, most pathetic sofa ever. Too bad Bruce isn't sitting in it, that'd look funny XD.

So... apparently the police want to take the credit, because they're calling THE Batman an “urban legend”. In response, Alfred is offering Bruce more bran flakes.

Ew... what a way to make something sound gross, Alfred.

Bruce is very intent on his bran flakes. And he's holding his spoon like a toddler does.

That bowl is the size of his head. How is he gonna eat all those!?.

Bruce is apparently pleased to be considered a myth.

He must like to pretend to be THAT Mothman in his time off.

Now that the chatter about the stuff we already saw is over, let's turn the TV off.

EEK!. Don't give us a close up of his arm!.

It's creepy. The lower arm is enormous, but the upper is tiny and vanishes into his unflattering T-Shirt which appears to be several sizes too big in all places save his shoulders.

Now, Alfred is being cruel. He's forcing Bruce to go to a sport's event.

He claims that it's so people won't become all suspicious-like, but I think he really just wants to traumatize poor young Batman. Alfred is so cruel. So cruel :(

Now enjoy this carefully drawn and detailed metal bridge, which apparently serves no purpose other than to stand over these poorly drawn and hardly detailed police cars.

Also, enjoy that pale yellow sky and those mandarin orange background buildings.

AH!. We cut to a bald guy with evil eyebrows and lips that hide under a triangular nose!.

Now, let us have a conversation with that annoying guy.

He seems to be confused about the uniforms for police officers and those for Army men.

He MUST be a crooked cop. Because he doesn't want anyone to see THE Batman as a hero.

Dude, a little late with that one, aren't we?.

And now, the bald guy gets a partner. A lady with crazy hair and slanted eyes that seem to continue beyond her head and right into her weirdo hairstyle.

Now enjoy the carefully detailed things that DON'T move.

See that filing cabinet?. Well it's irrelevant. See that... VCR?. Well it's not important EITHER!.

Oh no!. She's got an oriental name, but uses.... “Texan” phrases. HELP!.

Now, Chief Pointy Hair is going to explain to Baldy and Lady Damsel in Dis-... err... I mean... Wonderwom.... I mean... Catwo.... err... Big Hair Lady?. Yeah... we'll go with that.

And now, for some CGI water, buildings that stand up straight, but are about half an inch from the water and a normal colored sunset.

Whew, I bet they were glad to get that over with.

Now... watch as Bruce broods in a bright room. And listen while Alfred clears his throat.

Bruce's reflection looks old and wrinkly.

And now, Bruce must go out in public *shudder*. But he can take his trusty GPS and cell phone.

I guess the GPS is so he can always know where he is.

He must get lost a lot, traveling around in the dark.

And now, enjoy this sign made of bones. Wait, no. This is Arkham Asylum, your one stop shop for every kind of crazy!. Also, enjoy our rolling black clouds and lightning!.

See all those doors with their detailing and stains?. Yeah, ignore those.

See this one over here, that has none?. Yeah, you should worr-.... yeah... just lean on that door, now that you've seen that there's a crazy person in there who doesn't belong...

I can see already that he has wild green hair, a really long-sleeved sweater and blue hands.

Not to mention crazy red and yellow eyes. What the crazy town?.

What movie did I just walk into?. Who IS this freak!?.

Oh never mind, he's laughing crazily while throwing gas grenades at the guy. Must be Scarecrow.

Hang on there!. Scarecrow didn't have green hair!.

Apparently, Gotham has this rule. The sky is either green, sunset or it's stormy out.

You're not allowed to have anything else.

I ...uh... you guys should do something about those crazy people who check themselves in, knock out your orderlies and then set your patients loose. Like... lock them up or something.

AUGH!. He's got white bare feet with super-huge toes!. HALP!.

Meanwhile, at the police station with its super-awesome bridge and terrible buildings...

Baldy is explaining that THE Batman, in essence, is untraceable.

And Big Hair is typing... hey that's your monitor stand lady, not your keyboard!.

And now Big Hair is reading stuff on her screen. You know that scene I just described?. She just described what happened too. But with less detail. And bigger eyes 8| hmm.. no. O.O … no.... there's not really a key to compare with what she's doing. That guy has NO chin. And she has a very pointy face. She could put somebody's eye out with that chin of hers!.

They realize, after some stupidity, that THE Batman will find out too.

So they flee the room, to parts unknown.

And we zoom in on.... thanks... there's no picture or text there. Just green and blue boxes. You lazy art department, you didn't even give us anything to look at, but you made us see it anyway!.

Meanwhile, at the sporting event...

The crowd is unusually sedate for watching sports. And Bruce is flirting with two weird ladies.

Bruce, you're rich dude, you can do much better than two ladies with unnaturally shiny hair and bush-baby sized eyes. Although, with your own deformities, you guys are probably made for each other.

Then, with the least amount of subtlety he can muster, Bruce looks at his phone while sitting between the girls who are still hanging all over him like determined fleas.

“Arkham?”

Gee, Bruce, way to maintain a low profile *insert eye roll here*

At home, Alfred is watching TV while sitting on the couch, which has grown enormously since we last saw it. Maybe it's a shrinkable couch, to save space... in your giant... empty... room... yeah.

The news would like to film Bruce, but can only find some very disappointed bush babies...

Alfred is now angry. I guess he doesn't like bush babies. Oh well.

Here, audience, enjoy this alley, with its beautifully stoned street and stained walls and... purple drapes.

AUGH!. Another close up of Bruce's ugly mug!.

He presses a button and his car comes screeching around the corner.

I don't think this guy understands the whole “low profile” thing.

His car is apparently stupid and vrooms on past him, nearly running him down.

But he's apparently fine with that.

Now watch, as he pulls on his clawed gloves and buckles himself-... AHHH!!. Not the close up!. Help, save me!. This guy has no torso and they're making sure I can tell!.

Now he's hiding his face behind the mask. Good job, Bruce!.

No, no!. Don't show us a view of him from the car floor!. I don't WANT to see his weirdo crazy muscles. Unless, maybe, he's actually keeping a stash of chocolate bars in his suit. That MUST be it.

And now, witness if you will: our hero, driving worse than a drunk person at speeds rivaling that of the USS Enterprise (D)

Meanwhile, at Arkham.

“Will ya look at all them kooks in the road, Joe?. They're just walkin' in front of the car. Why, they must be crazy or somethin'!”

I think they just ran over one, being as their car kinda jerked and then stopped O.o

Hey look, giant Jack-In-The-Box!.

I guess we all know who that green-haired freak in the sweat shirt is now... The Riddler!.

Now, watch as the police (in their military green uniforms) observe the box as it plays its off-key tune. And then explodes.

Above, on top of a nearby building, THE Batman watches while frowning deeply and being cleverly back-lit by the moon. Again. Ooh, the sky is purple now!.

And now, after yet another unnecessary (and unwanted XP) close-up, he breaks into the asylum. Which is really where he belongs anyway (and I hope he stays there!).

Inside, there is a useless bridge (seriously, the thing leads from a window sill into a wall. No wonder people are always getting out of Arkham, it was designed by crazy people!), and a flashing red light that is trying to make us believe a nuclear explosion is about to occur. Or did occur. Or something...

See that puddle?. Inside the building?. See that shadow?. The one that looks like a six-legged spider with ears?. Yeah. That's the shadow of THE Batman. Sploosh.

And now he's looking down into the abyss. Arkham seems to be a tall castle. With stagnant water at the bottom. What sort of nuthatch is this?.

Look!. Open doors!. And more open doors!. And, and, I don't believe it!. Open doors!.

Hey, a janitor!. This janitor is full of drugs. They make him slap-happy.

This is worthy of white and red flashes. And gasping. And crazed giggling.

I'm gonna giggle too. Hee. Ha. Ha. Hee.

“Now, Mr. Janitor, I know you're all unconscious and REALLY, REALLY thrilled by that, but stop falling over. Alright, that's it, I'm gonna just lean you against this wall, m'kay?”

AH!. A barefoot demon on the ceiling!. With palm tree hair!. Save us, THE Batman!. Save us from his giant sweater and gingivitis!.

Apparently, he thinks he's a nutcracker, as he just clacked his enormous horse teeth together.

“Aw... now that guy's making fun of me. I'm gonna have to grab him by his ugly orange and purple sweater and demand his name!”

Ooooohhhhh.... don't worry, guys. It's only Joker. No, not The Joker. Just Joker.

I think THE Batman stole all the THE this series could stand.

Next, THE Batman tries to remove his makeup, because he wants to know the REAL identity of this freak of nature. And so do we. This can't be Joker. He's like.... a hyper-active eight-year old with a Halloween mask and the sweater his Grandma knitted for him last Christmas.

So, Joker tries to make THE Batman take drugs, but THE Batman stomps on his sweater sleeves and punches him. Aw... Grandma's gonna be so made at you, Joker, you ripped your lovely new sweater. It was made with love and THE Batman just tore it all up :(

And now, time for some random punching and throwing horrible, horrible jokes around.

Meanwhile, outside, where the sky is now black and the buildings standing straight with their windows all big like they're shocked 0.0.....

Baldy and Big Hair have arrived.

Big Hair immediately decides that waiting for helicopters so they can cross the bridge is stupid and leaps into the lake to swim to Arkham Castle...err.. Asylum.

Now, back to THE Batman chasing Joker and Joker leaping around on the walls like the floor is made of lava. Either that or he stole Spiderman's powers.

But that's Marvel, not DC. And I don't think those guys do cross-overs with each other, though they cheerfully thieve each other's ideas fairly regularly.

Then, Joker suddenly decides to leave. He throws some cards and we get to watch them in slow motion as THE Batman narrowly dodges them by.... about a foot.

He stares at them for a sec, then leaps up and chases Joker around a corner.

Only to find himself face-to-face with Jack. In da box.

And then he tries to STOP the music from playing. Because we somehow KNOW that's how the explosion gets set off. Couldn't, be like, a timer, right?.

He doesn't succeed, but we get to watch him escape in slow motion... from confetti.

Meanwhile, Big Hair has exited the lake, her hair magically undisturbed.

She and Baldy immediately decide to split up. Because that's a great idea.

Baldy runs around the building and finds himself face-to-face with THE Batman.

He tries to read THE Batman his rights, but THE Batman cares not and escapes, Spiderman style.

Somehow, Big Hair has run ALL the way around the HUGE building.

They then watch as THE Batman vanishes into the moon, his rope apparently attached to the sky.

Back at the cave, THE Batman has apparently brought the janitor... even though... we didn't see anyone with him.... earlier... oh well.... MEDIC!.... er, I mean... ALFRED!.

Now, enjoy our yellow sky and blazing sun, which sits in front of our background buildings because it's more important than they are....

Bruce is staring at one of the cards left by Joker and listening to the radio say... well... nothing important. Just stuff we already know!.

You know what the word “exposition” means, right guys?. It's to EXPOSE things we didn't already know. Or EXPLAIN them. You're not moving the plot. You're just wasting film.

And maybe wishing you had more plot. Bruce does look a little sad...

Now, for more non-exposition while Bruce thinks and Alfred talks.

And then Baldy arrives!.

Time for a commercial.

And Bruce was arrested and never heard from again. Yay!. Oh wait... never mind.

They make some dumb jokes at each other and are apparently friends.

And Bruce plays basketball.... sometimes.

Now we get to watch them drink... tea?. Out of coffee-mugs.

And we find out that Baldy wants to talk to someone not involved in his current case (yeah, that one where he's supposed to catch THE Batman). And out of ALL the people he knows, he came to Bruce.

Because he's obviously not involved XD.

And Alfred drops a vase while dusting.

They make some more dumb jokes while.... not giving us exposition *sigh*.

And, naturally, Baldy actually thinks THE Batman is one of the good guys.

Only, it's still his job to catch him.

And now, a word from our sponsor. Wait, no. It's just THE Batman looking at one of Joker's cards. With his creepy... claw-hands.

And now he has found a wacky place which looks pretty much like Joker's lair.

Only in crazy-town would the cops not notice what it looks like.

So, sure enough, there's Joker. And he tries to tell another lame joke.

And Joker does the “we're so much alike” routine.

THE Batman is not impressed, so Joker throws a sack of sand at him and escapes in his weirdo clown blimp, which we somehow know is full of the wacky-gas.

“What is that?” cry the people of Gotham.

“Is that really sky?. It's the color of tomatoes!”

So Joker is heading the blimp for a conveniently placed golden statue with a spear, so he can pop it and spread crazy all over Gotham. Not that it would hurt them or anything.

Wouldn't popping the blimp cause him to fall out of the sky?.

And wouldn't that be... you know... a bad thing?.

THE Batman leaps into his batmobile and gives chase. ZOOM!.

Meanwhile, Baldy and Big Hair have realized that there is a crazy dude with a blimp over their city.

And the spear statue is very shiny for it being nighttime and all.

Although, on the other hand, it's still a full moon and the sky is a brilliant crimson.

So Joker giggles madly and moves around on his blimp like spiderfreak.

Suddenly, THE Batman leaps from above!.

Wait a tick.... he was in his batmobile last I saw.

So... let's make more lame jokes and hit each other for awhile. Whee.

Below, Baldy and Big Hair give chase in their little brown car.

They make lame jokes too.

And watch while THE Batman and Joker hit each other and try to knock each other out of the blimp.

Dramatic music time. And Joker tries to knock THE Batman off the blimp with a GIANT hammer.

Where was he keeping that thing?. In the magical “behind your back” place?.

Oh well, no matter. Time for THE Batman to throw a line out and attach himself to a huge water tank.

Remember that scene in Spiderman 2 where Spiderman was in front of the train and tried to stop it?.

Well, this is like that, only in the air and THE Batman is suspended between the blimp and the water tower by his grappling hook. Oh, and he's trying to change the blimp's direction, not stop it.

But otherwise, it's identical. For those of you who are so unprivileged that you haven't yet seen that movie, just imagine a dude trying to stop/change the direction of something five or six times his size. And “huurggh”-ing and “huhhggg”-ing a lot.

You get the picture. I'm sorry.

So... anyway... the blimp narrowly misses its target and instead floats on down a side street.

Or towards the ocean, now that we changed angles.

“East. Gotham Bay”

Thank you Big Hair for that startling revelation. It's not like we can SEE the bay out the front of the car or anything. Or maybe Baldy is blind. I'm sorry, Baldy, I had no idea.

Uh-oh. Joker is a sad clown now. And his hammer is bigger than it was in the last scene O.o

But THE Batman is ahead of him and is now behind him (hehehehe.... I know what I did there).

Time for one last bad joke, then we'll dump this blimp in the ocean, about five feet from shore oughta do it. It's not like we're gonna hurt those fish any with our crazy gas....

Not-KITT has now transformed into a speedboat, for timely getaways after sinking blimps.

But Joker gets away with the clever use of parachute. That means we'll have to see him again in future. Oh no!!!. O.O

But at least we saved the city, polluted the ocean, killed some fish, made bad jokes and did manage to send Joker to Arkham (where he started out in the first place!).

Good work has been done here.

Time to speed off into the bright red sky, “beautifully” lit by the enormous full moon, leaving behind a torn up blimp, Joker and Baldy and Big Hair, who will, hopefully, learn from this experience and retire.

Oh yeah, and we also fixed up the janitor while nobody was looking.

He's back on duty, doing the same thing he was doing before.

Dude, don't quit your day job. Whatever it is, it's better than walking around in a leaky castle and checking off crazed inmates on your clipboard.

And now, we leave you with a final lame joke from Joker and his crazed giggling.

He. He. He. He.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Pardon My Religion

Date Written: July 16, 2011

This is an actual exchange between me and Buck (that's her nickname anyway), an internet friend of mine I met several years ago on a site called “Wondir” which no longer exists:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Them: “I really hate Christians. They're always forcing their religion on other people or talking about how great God is. Or taking things and making them their own. Or seeing religion in songs which aren't religious at all!”

Me: “I know what you mean”

Buck: “Are you athiest?. I am”

Me: “No. I'm a Christian”

Buck: “I'm sorry?”

Me: “I'm not”

Buck: “No, I mean: how can you be a Christian!?. You're so... normal”

Buck: “I mean nice!”

Buck: “I mean... I don't know what I mean”

Me: “I do. And it's fine. I know the kind of people you're talking about. They annoy me too. I just don't happen to be one of them”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck and I stayed in contact and talked a lot. After awhile, she met some other Christians, both online and in real life, who she didn't find annoying.

Then one day, I saw this quote on her profile on another site we were both on:

“Give thanks because you are grateful, not because it is expected. It is the only way to be honest with yourself, those around you, and God” ~Buck

When I asked her about it, she said that she now believed in God. But she wasn't sure what to do now. She didn't fully agree with the Catholic Church or Baptist or any of the others either.

She felt that, because of this, she could not truly be a Christian.

I explained to her that I'm not Catholic or Baptist or any of those either, but I'm Christian.

I just believe what I believe. I believe in God and what the Bible says.

I believe Jesus died on the cross to pay for my sins and that God answers all prayers, though not always in the way that we expect.

Buck was startled by this revelation and wanted to know more about how I be what she calls “A Free Christian”. I wasn't sure how to answer her question.

What, exactly, did I do?. I mean, I've always been Christian. I don't know how not to be.

It's very similar to a child who has always been public schooled asking one who has always been homeschooled what it's like. There's no frame of reference.

In Star Trek: The Voyage Home Dr. McCoy asks Spock what it was like to be dead.

Spock refuses to answer on the grounds that there was no frame of reference.

McCoy would have to be dead before he could understand it.

What could I say?. Her questions made me think about what it is that I believe. And why.

Some Christians believe in evolution, some don't. Some pray every day (religiously, if you will), others hardly ever. Some go to church every Sunday and believe you can't be a proper Christian if you don't.

What was I to tell Buck?.

Finally I told her this:

“Well, I read the Bible sometimes, but not as often as I should. I pray when I feel like I need to, and think about God's work and promises when my thoughts go that way. I listen to Christian music, of which there is a wide variety, not just Hymns. I don't go to Church, mainly because I've never found one I really, truly agree with in my heart. Faith is just a part of everything I do. It's so much a part of who I am, that it's hard to explain”

Buck is now a fully fledged Christian, quite probably stronger in her faith than I. Her favorite artist is Jeremy Camp and she is currently reading a King James Bible, though she does read others, to see what the differences and similarities are in them.

She's come a long way from that person who, years ago, told me she hated Christians.

She actually regularly reminds me of my religion, and that I should look to God for answers, not myself or the people around me.

But I have something I want to say.

Christians, what we're doing is wrong.

Now before you beat me to death with your Bibles, hear me out.

The reason Buck hated Christians and God (though she claimed not to believe in Him) was because of us. As Christians, we want to share our faith, convert people and try to get them to see things the way that we do. And, as humans, we want everyone to agree with us. Sorry guys, that's how it is.

But to non-Christians, this behavior generally comes across as obnoxious and insane.

To them, we might as well be a bunch of chimps waving bananas at them and chattering.

The people who changed Buck were not those people. They were people like me.

People who believe in God and aren't afraid to say it, but don't feel the need to slap someone with scripture until they agree with us.

Faith is in every part of my life. Before doing anything potentially life-changing, I stop and pray, asking God if that's what I should do. But I do have other subjects.

I can talk to Atheists about things because I don't feel like I need to make them believe.

Surely, I would love it if they did what Buck has. But I can accept that they have their own view, and nothing I can say will change that.

I don't hide my religion from them, but I don't beat them to death with it either.

And Churches aren't really helping that much either.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with HAVING churches, going to Church or even thinking that you MUST go to Church to be a proper Christian.

What is wrong is trying to force everyone ELSE to do that too.

Nearly every time I've gone to Church, it feels almost like I'm watching an advertisement for being Christian. Like they're actually trying to talk to non-Christians.

But they sound so.... (if you'll excuse my pun) preachy. I feel repelled by it.

Each kind of Christianity has its own particular habits and beliefs on the fine points.

But shouldn't we all just be happy with the fact that others believe like we do, if not exactly the way that we do?. After all, no two people see the world exactly alike.

Take this vase for example:

My Grandmother believes that it is burgundy red, my mother is convinced that it is brown and I think it looks more purple than anything.

We can all see it, hold it, turn it and look at it in different lights. Yet we see three different colors.

This is the way that people view the world too.

We see things alike, but never exactly the same, even if it seems like we do.

Why should our beliefs be any different?.

God has not called us all to the same purpose, so perhaps those other Christians aren't “wrong” and neither are we. Since we can't truly know everything, we must make leaps of faith.

Because of this, who are we to say that another's leap of faith is wrong?.

Who are we to say “no, you can't believe that” or “you must do this”.

I'm not against trying to convince others to come to God. That would be neither Christian nor human.

But I am against trying to FORCE others to believe.

All we, as Christians, can really do is stand up as an example and offer others the opportunity to learn more about our beliefs. After that, it is between them and God. No one can MAKE another become Christian. And by trying, we drive Buck and others like her ever further from Christ.

I don't claim to know the answers. I only believe what I believe.

And I can only live by my own beliefs.

It isn't my place to tell others what to believe or do, because maybe God called them to a different purpose than mine. Maybe they see a blue vase where I see green.

And who am I to say that's wrong?.

Buck's name and story were used with her permission.

This Is What We're Here For

I haven't been writing these because I've been working on a new story. I realized I'd likely be doing that for another little while, so I dug up this old post on one of the blogs I've pretty much retired. I remember that night as if it happened yesterday and remembering it made me tear up a little *sniff*.
So anyway, here it is, completely unrelated to film or my opinions and written as though strangers might actually read it someday.
~~~~~~~~~~
Written on January 9, 2011

January 8, 2011
The new year began much as I had expected. Just terribly. After spending the holidays trying not to scramble to help my mom make sure everything was ready and my grandparent's birthdays mushed in there, I was just about spent. I'd been sick early in December and it took a lot more time than expected for me to recover.
I have winter-time allergies to boot. And January is the WORST month of them all. I coughed and hacked my way through the first week of January, wishing it were summer, when my allergies aren't so bad.
I also wished that I could be getting up earlier. I'm a night person, so getting up early is a constant struggle. I'd just been about where I needed to be when I got sick, which completely ruined my plan. I was so FRUSTRATED!. 365 days battling myself and everybody else to get up in the morning is enough to do that to anybody. WHY?!. Why was it so easy for everybody else?. Why couldn't I get up in the morning and enjoy the day with my friends and family?. What was so wrong about that?. I'd tried everything I could, including skipping a night of sleep and going to bed early the next night. It's a very lonely existence here on the other side of the 24hr period. Nobody is there and everybody wants to give you advice on how to fix your sleep schedule. Or they poke fun at it. The jokes are funny at first. But after a year of it, you just want to strangle them.
So anyway, Jan 8th, we needed to go to buy some cat food. It's about an hour to buy the special kind we get, due to some of our cats stomach issues. I wanted to go with my dad to get it, I'd been desperately missing our outings since before I got sick. But I knew I'd never get up in time.
Well, the next day, I woke up just in time to watch my dad drive off with my mom and little sister.
Why couldn't I have gotten up just five minutes earlier?. Just five MINUTES?.
Sighing to myself, I wandered off to start my daily routine, trying not to think about how bitterly disappointed I was not to be going with my family on their little outing.
I supposed I ought to just get used to it. It didn't seem like it was ever going to change.
Of course, the house wasn't entirely empty. My older brother and his girlfriend (also one of my best friends) were around. My grandparents live in the same house, so they were there too.
My grandparents are in their 90s, but nobody believes it when you tell them. My grandmother even has dark hair which isn't dyed, hardly any gray.
I went back to my room and settled in for a long, boring day. I couldn't help but think of all those hours after everybody went to bed before I would finally be able to get to sleep. It wasn't something I looked forward to.
I like time to myself, I enjoy being left alone. But there's something sad about not being ABLE to find someone to talk to for most of the time you're awake.
My mind kept going back to: if I'd just gotten up a bit earlier. If I'd just set my alarm, which I usually didn't because I tend to sleep through it.
Scout, our orange and white kitten kept coming and making a pest of himself, scaring the fish and trying to tear up the curtains. No amount of scolding of ANY kind seems to sink into that thick head of his.
My emotions were already in turmoil, not just from the typical disappointment of not being up early enough to enjoy my family or help out with the day-to-day things, but from various other issues I won't mention here.
Scout persistently kept my attention, nearly driving me CRAZY. To make matters worse, he enjoys rolling in his litter box and I'm allergic to the stuff, so everytime I pried him off the dresser, his proximity made me sneeze.
About all I could think about was how unfair life was. Allergies, not feeling like part of the family anymore, that stupid cat that refused to leave me alone, how imperfect I was in so many ways....
After I few hours of this, I eventually put Scout outside and settled in to join an online game site that looked interesting to keep my mind off of things. Not more than ten minutes had passed when Mary (my brother's girl) came in and asked me if I knew Granny had fallen down.
My mind sighed to itself "great, as if I needed another person with their trivial problems". Falling down is not an uncommon thing. My grandmother has had multiple knee surgeries and is pretty unsteady. While she's very careful to hold onto things, she sometimes grabs something that isn't sturdy or has her hands full.
Mary also sounded pretty calm, so I thought it was one of those bits of information people give you after it no longer matters.
But then she added that Granny was bleeding. That got my attention.
She told me that my brother was in there and they'd called EMS.
I went over to my Grandparents' part of the house, which was swarming with EMS guys. Actually, I later realized, there were only four. But they were big and tall and took up a good portion of the room. My grandmother WAS bleeding from her face and one of the guys was tending to her. Evan (my brother) was right there, holding her hand. I watched for a few minutes, but felt in the way. I had nothing I could say or do to help and the room was small enough as it was without me in the middle of it.
Besides, I could feel that my emotional levels had reached a peak, and it wouldn't do anybody any good for me to burst into tears on the spot. Besides, all those guys talking SOOOO calmly would probably try to make me feel better, thinking the hysterics were directly related to my grandmother's injury.
It was a tough blow to me, but it was everything all stacked up that was too much.
I stayed as long as I could without crying, watching the EMS guys caring for her, asking questions in terrifyingly calm voices. And then I looked at Evan. He looked so calm and so confident, no matter how he really felt. He just stood there, holding her hand. And I realized that she had all the help she needed.
I needed to go, before I caused a bigger scene than was already there. I certainly didn't want to cause any drama. In situations like that, I want to be more or less ignored unless I can actually help.
So I went out and sat with Mary, and we talked of things other than what was going on in the other room.
Mainly Scout and Keiko, my kittens, and how they're not really like normal kittens.
It ran through my mind that someone should call mom and dad, but then I realized someone probably already had. My thoughts briefly strayed to my earlier disappointment, and I felt ashamed that I could be thinking about me at a time like this.
A few minutes later, my parents and little sister arrived.
I went out to see how things were going. The crowd had thinned out a lot, just two people besides my family members. I heard one of the EMS people say that Evan was a good helper, though I don't recall if she was within his earshot or not.
After a time, Evan left and my dad came in. My Grandpa had gone to another room to call the family and tell them about what was happening and that joke about the world ending and needing to update your Facebook status came to mind. It came before Facebook, I can swear to it.
There still wasn't a lot I could do, but I did go to fetch Granny a warm vest and a change of pants.
The whole time, she kept going back and saying how thankful she was that Evan had been here.
We had apparently been told to go to the ER, though I had been absent at the time.
All I knew was that we were taking Granny somewhere. And I knew I wanted to be involved.
I asked Mom is if I should go and she said yes.
 The back of my mind asked myself if I just wanted to show I was as good to have around as Evan.
I quickly shushed it. I could help. I wasn't sure how, but I could.
Besides, I'd never been to the ER and it would give me some experience in how things work there.
I hurried back to put on some jeans and my shoes and grab my phone. I considered my purse briefly, but decided against it. We would have enough things to juggle without THAT helping. I paused with my hand over the small music box my Grandmother had given me years before. I could almost see my simple gold cross necklace which my mother had gotten for me when I was younger. Should I wear it?. Would it bring comfort?. Or would it just be in the way?. I chose to put my shoes on and decide while doing that. I was hurrying, I didn't want to be the one holding things up and I wanted to run back in there so I could help in any way possible. I pulled my right sock on so fast I didn't realize something was in it until it was all the way on. There was a lump in it, so I pulled it off and shook it. Whatever it was, it didn't come out. Scout appeared about this time and grabbed my sock, thinking I was playing. I pushed him back and tried the sock again, maybe whatever it was had come out. It was still there. I pulled the sock off, turned it inside out-.... and dropped it with a squeak. Sitting on the sock was a rather dizzy looking brown spider. I recognized it to not be a dangerous spider, but the bite would certainly be irritating if it had. My brain froze for an instant, asking that one, paralyzing question: just how sure was I what kind of spider this was?. How sure was I that it hadn't bit me?. What if it had been a black widow instead?.
I don't know how long I would have stayed in panic mode if Scout hadn't intervened. He grabbed the sock in his mouth and started to carry it off to parts unknown. The spider dropped off. Scout dropped the sock and grabbed the spider, then went galloping off to show his sister what he'd just found.
I hurriedly turned both socks inside out and back, put them on and checked my shoes for any more "surprises". I grabbed my necklace out of the box and nearly dropped my phone on the floor as I went.
My dad helped Granny into the car and carried the various things we needed. It was going to get cold, so coats were brought along. Purses, water, ID etc. all had to be gathered from various places.
It took several minutes for everyone to settle in the car and be ready to go.
Already wearing his coat, Grandpa couldn't lock his seatbelt, so I leaned around to the backseat to do it for him.
On the way, conversation drifted around and sometimes died out. Everyone seemed to be talking lightly, but I wasn't sure if that was because things were okay or because they didn't want to hit the panic button.
I wanted to ask what the situation was, but instead tried to stick to the topics which were brought up.
One of them was whether I'd gotten my netflix that day. I didn't WANT to talk about netflix. But I squashed that feeling and said yes. Fortunately, I escaped further questioning by the subject changing.
We got there, finally and I got out to see what help I could be. Grandpa grabbed a wheelchair and I stood by in case Granny fell. She insisted on using the car door instead of me, since she thinks of me as a rather fragile creature. I stood with my back to the door, the wheelchair just beyond. At one point, she pulled against the door and it knocked hard against my shoulder. I shuddered to think what might have happened it somebody hadn't been standing there.
She got into the wheelchair and Grandpa took her inside while Mom drove off to find a parking place.
I went in with them. The ER seemed almost completely empty on the outside. There were more security guards than hospital personnel. The guards didn't look very friendly and I was glad we didn't ask them for help, as had briefly been considered.
A nurse came out and wheeled Granny back, and I wondered whether or not I should follow.
Was I even allowed to?. I'd never been to a place like this. Was it like a normal doctor's office?.
Thankfully, Mom arrived and it became apparent that we were not only allowed back there, but it would be greatly appreciated if we WOULD go back there.
We found Granny answering a host of apparently unrelated questions. The nurse would look at her, ask a question, then tap on her keyboard intently. I could see the computer screen, but none of it meant anything to me. Then I began to realize that there was, in fact, a relation between what was asked and typed. But, just as I thought I might be able to figure it out, she announced that we were done and were going to move to a room with a bed.
Somehow, they got Granny into one of those hospital nighties and got her into the bed.
Moments after that nurse left, Granny's wound started to bleed again. We couldn't find any button to call a nurse except one, which turned out to be the emergency button. A nurse arrived and handed us the actual call button, cheerfully saying that it happened all the time (later that night she was proven right, as we heard someone else push the emergency button who didn't really have an emergency). She gave us some gauze and gave Granny some warm blankets upon request. Then she hurried off.
Not long after she left, the doctor arrived. He looked like a football player and would have been intimidating if not for his sweet voice and gentle smile. He examined her quickly, but not roughly, firing off question after question and answering a few himself. He then left, and minutes later two apparently high-energy nurses arrived. They set to work cleaning up the wound areas and "gluing" her. By this time, the high-spirits and calmness had quit grating on my nerves.
Especially as the nurses happily told us what a nice bruise she'd have and almost continually said that it was gonna hurt. Something about that told me that was the worst of it.
Before they were finished, two MORE nurses appeared. One was apparently sent to give her a tetenus shot. The other was going to take her off to get a CT scan.
The two patching up her face finished and cheerfully cleared the way for the new nurses. One took her to CT and the other told us to push the red button when Granny came back so she could give her a shot.
After that, we were left alone. Grandpa, Mom and I had very little to do except wait.
This was the first time things had stopped since they started, almost three hours earlier.
My brain hadn't even had time to worry about how bad the injury might really be or how this could have happened. I refused to let my thoughts stray there, as I might set to crying. And here I had no "other room" to go to except the nearby bathrooms. And I didn't want to do that at all.
So instead I studied the coloring of the floor, walls and ceiling. The floors were a light gray, the ceiling white. The walls were a kind of grayish green, but really a color I'd never imagined.
Then my eyes wandered over to the painting directly across the room from me.
After staring at it for what seemed like an eternity, I finally realized that the little black and gray smear in the middle was either a house or a shed. The blackish-green smear to the left was a tree... maybe. The splashes of gold-yellow were fields of... wheat?. But the gray and black striped areas I couldn't make heads or tails of.
I continued to puzzle over the painting until Granny was returned to us. The nurse with the needle came back of her own accord, before we called for her.
She wandered around while setting up the shot, until my half-crazed brain began to wonder who was really getting the shot here. If it suddenly became me, I knew I was going to punch her, no matter how nice she seemed.
At last, she meandered back over to Granny. She took her time getting ready, I guess to make sure everybody was calm. I closed my eyes for that. Not because I'm squimish, but because I hate needles practically more than anything on this earth. Even the sight of them is enought to make me squirm.
When she was done, she repeatedly said that it would probably be sore for a day or so and not to worry if it was. After a time, she left, needle and all.
Then the waiting began. And continued. One of the nurses eventually got off work and came to say goodbye.
Another wandered in to make sure we were okay, and Grandpa decided it high time that she knew that not only was Granny ninety, that was her natural hair color.
From time to time after that, I could hear the nurses outside the room exchange this bit of information.
We were right near what appeared to be the break room, so it was easy to hear bits and pieces of conversation without even trying. It was funny how many time that bit of information was passed around.
At long last, Grandpa called for a nurse because Granny needed to take a pill and her mouth was dry. It also needed to be taken with food. He went off with the nurse and returned with a cup of water, some Graham Crackers and some Saltines.
I spent the better part of forty-five minutes after that project holding a cup of water.
My mind said it must look pretty strange. Granny lying there, kind of half turned and eating Graham Crackers, Grandpa standing over her and peacefully munching away on his own crackers. Me sitting back in my chair with a cup of water held in my hand and resting on my knee. My mom in the wheelchair (there were only two chairs other than that, so she took that one), doing sudoku and sighing now and then because that's not really what she wanted to be doing.
I eventually began to feel hungry. As if reading my mind, Grandpa offered me some Saltines, which I gladly accepted. I'd eaten not too long before this, but it was headed for five or six hours ago and it had only been a bowl of soup. Still, it surprised me that I wasn't too tense to eat. Doctors and their offices put me on edge. I'd already been at the edge. And the situation seemed upsetting, though everyone was calm.
About midnight, a nurse came in and told us WHY it was taking so long. We were waiting on the CT results, which were sent off somewhere on the weekends and it was apparently training week. So basically the trainee and the doctor both look at it several times and talk about it. Yippee.
Mom decided that Grandpa probably needed to go home, since it was late. She decided to take him home and suggested taking me too. I said that I would either stay here or come back with her.
Granny wanted me to go home, until I made her realize that I would be up until 7 or 8 AM regardless.
She finally agreed to let Grandpa go. He didn't want to.
He wanted to stay with her, and that was a thing I could understand.
My mom didn't rush them, allowing them time to consider and say goodbye, even for just the few hours it was likely to be. I suppose it might be hard to understand that kind of devotion in a situation that doesn't seem to dramatic. But when you've known each other since you were fifteen and seventeen and you're now ninety and ninety-two and you've been married almost all of those years... beside both of them always being together for the seven years they've been with us, as neither of them works anymore. Being apart is hard. Especially since Granny didn't feel well and was in a strange place. I know I wouldn't let people leave ME alone there.
About the time they were ready to part ways, the doctor returned with good news. Everything was fine.
Nothing broken, fractured or even strained. Grandpa immediately asked where he played football.
He laughed and said he hadn't. Well, not since high school anyway. So much for the dumb jocks.
He then left and sent a nurse to help us change Granny back into her proper clothes and get her moved to the wheelchair. The nurse stuck by us all the way out to the car and helped her in.
The temperature had dropped by a lot and it was now raining lightly.
We drove home in the light rain in silence, stopping only for a burger for me and Grandpa.
The moment I smelled it in the bag I realized I wasn't just a "little" hungry. I was starving.
I finished it by the time we reached home and stood by Granny on the way inside.
She mostly used the patio chairs to balance, but there was a few feet between the last chair and the door where she held on to me. Once she was inside, I knew she was okay. There were plenty of things to hold onto and Grandpa was right there. Besides, there wasn't enough space, I'd just be in the way.
I went back out in the rain to retrieve the various things that needed to be carried in. The cold pack she'd had, the blanket, the various purses and extra coat.
I stood by for a few minutes, but realized my work was done. I was just in the way there.
I went back to my room and practically pounced on Mom when she came back to her room.
It was then I found out pretty much for sure how Granny had fallen. I also discovered that Grandpa HAD called Mom, so she knew in advance.
As I headed back to my room, I felt lighter than I had in months.
My mind went over all the ways it could have been.

~If I'd gone with Mom and Dad, I wouldn't have been in such a hurry to put my sock on. The spider would have had a chance to bite me. I would have been wandering through stores. My feet would have been hurting and I would have been tired. And I would have had nowhere to go if I'd started to cry. And I probably would have.
~If I had stopped when Scout first tapped my sock and put him out, he wouldn't have been there to grab the spider. Or, if as I'd thought about earlier, I had put him in the crate instead of outside, he would have stayed there for the whole time. The spider would have been there. Keiko wouldn't have had a litter box. Scout would have been so hungry and thirsty...

And then it hit me: This is what we're here for. This is why Granny and Grandpa live with us.
So many people think it's in our interest and not theirs. But how can anyone think it's in our interest to take trips to the ER in the middle of the night, to stand in the cold rain when we'd rather be home in bed?. What sort of person thinks that way.
No, we're here to take care of them when they need it. Both when the dramatic things happen like this, and for the day-to-day things, such as making sure they eat enough and take their medications.
And I just think, who can say we're being selfish by taking care of them?.
But that isn't the point.
The point is: this is what we're here for.
We all live together and take care of each other. Even when things seem so dark, when it seems like things can't be going more wrong. We're here for each other. We make each other strong.
And I thought "just this afternoon, I got up and felt frustrated that I wasn't getting up early enough. If I was, I would have been tired and not very helpful. My antihistamine would have been wearing off.
Just this afternoon, I was scolding Scout for being in the way.
And just tonight, I saw the most beautiful thing. That true display of the "til death do us part" promise they made so long ago.
And, in my heart, I knew nothing could be greater. Nothing could be more important than what happened tonight. Nothing in this world.