Ceiling critter(s) poison traps: round 2

I'm probably going to wind up regretting this.

The pest control guy was just here to address my ceiling critter(s) issue, which he has identified as rats and squirrels, so apparently there wasn't just one ceiling critter, there has been a full-on rodent house party going on in my attic all this time. He put poison up there again. I had poison in the attic once before, and (as those who have been reading along for a while know), the critter died in the attic, the pest control company wouldn't come get it, and my house smelled like dead critter for a week. I told the guy I was not anxious to have that happen again, and he said it was pretty much the only option: snap traps are dangerous, plus the critter still dies in the ceiling, and sticky traps don't work, so unless I want to put Tyler up in the attic and let him have at it, poison is really the only option.

He swears that my prior experience was an annomally, and usually the animals really do go outside to die. We shall see. I'm thinking the real answer might be to get one of these:



It's an Ashera - a blend of a house cat, some African wildcat, and some Asian wildcat, and it's the size of a dog. Don't get me wrong, Tyler has brought home his share of dead rats and squirrels, but I think the attic infestation might call for something a little bigger and meaner. Actually, with a little genetic engineering, this could maybe be Tyler's alter-ego. You wouldn't like him when he's angry . . .

Anyway, so now I wait. Wait to see if the poison does its job and I no longer hear scratching and scurrying at night, and wait to see if I come home one day to the smell of "damn, something in here is dead." Wish me luck.

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You can hit the snooze button, but you're just postponing the inevitable

How hard should it be to purchase an alarm clock?

Ponder that, because it's deeper than it sounds. Take into account all the things that take up time and space in your life: work, family, friends, whatever, and ask yourself how much of that time and space should be devoted to buying a piece of plastic that wakes you up.

I wanted an alarm clock that would wake me to my ipod. I went to Amazon and searched "ipod alarm clock". I got 161 results, which seems a bit excessive. But I didn't have to go through all 161 - I had a price range in mind, so I sorted by price and set about weeding through the options.

About three hours later, I had not decided on a clock, and panic was beginning to set in. I compared features, prices, design, size, and - here's where I really went off the rails - I read the customer reviews. And, if the reviews are to be believed, there are a lot of alarm clocks that are just utter pieces of crap.

I finally bought one - it's a total piece of crap. I'm returning it, and I never return anything. The alarm has one volume: wall-shaking deafening. Truly, I'm sure my neighbors sat bolt upright and said "what the hell was that?" Have you ever seen a cat get really startled? They go from perfectly still to about 4 feet off the ground in less than half a second. That was me at 6:45 a.m. In addition to this, the numbers on the display are bright enough to read by - how on earth can anyone sleep next to something that bright? I can't. I won't.

I ordered a different clock today, so we'll hope for the best on that one, but my point here is two-fold: (1) we are nothing but consumers, and most of what we consume is cheap, poorly made crap that just winds up annoying us, and (2) we are surrounded by such a sea of this crap that it's swallowing us. The consumers have become the consumed.

There shouldn't be 161 ipod clock radios - the crap with obvious, glaring design flaws shouldn't make it to market. The ones that do make it out there shouldn't be so damn expensive (I'm sorry, but it should not cost $100+ to wake up at a certain time each day). And the people who buy these things shouldn't be taking time out of their lives to write long, ranting product reviews and giving the product one or two stars on Amazon.

So now I've spent way too much of my life researching and comparing alarm clocks, buying one, figuring out how to use it, packing it back up to be returned, buying a different one, writing a scathing review of the first one, and writing a rambling blog about the entire experience. Someone save me from myself and the stuff-filled world I've allowed myself to be sucked into. Someone save us all.

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I fought the law (again). This time the law towed my car.

So I'm fighting the man again, over a parking ticket again. A couple years ago, I went to DC for a concert and wound up with a bs $100 parking ticket for parking in an "emergency zone". I wrote a pissy letter, backed up with photographic proof of my innocence, and actually got the thing dismissed. I still have the dismissal letter from the DC DMV posted on my fridge, I'm so damn proud of it.

Well, here I go again: Wednesday night I went to the Norva, parked on Granby a block up from Baxters (where it's all torn up with construction), went to the show, came back and had a total "Dude, where's my car?" moment. I saw the handicapped sign earlier, but it was attached to the sign that says that 2 hour parking is from 9am - 6pm, so I thought that time frame applied to the handicapped zone too. It does not. So whatever minion Satan put in charge of Norfolk parking decided to not only ticket me, but also have me immediately towed (seriously, the times on the ticket and the towing sheet are like 20 minutes apart). Cuz, you know, it's 10pm and some crippled person must have been desperately trying to get to the federal court house.
Fast forward to the impound lot near Janaf - now that place is a treat. First off, I drive a newer model Toyota convertible. The guard who escorted me to my car took me all the way through the lot and up to this, like 1970s Oldsmobile hoopdie. Apparently oblivious to the look of incredulity on my face, he asked me "is this it?" Um, no.

So we eventually found it. Bonus fun: my registration was expired, so technically I didn't have a current registration to prove I own the damn thing. Fortunately, the lady at the counter accepted my expired registration, probably because she didn't feel like dealing with this shit at midnight on a Wednesday any more than I did.

So I have my car back, but it cost me $135 to get it out of impound, PLUS I have a $250 - yes, you read that right, $250 - parking ticket that the city of Norfolk apparently thinks I'm actually going to pay. Ha! Even if I had $250, I wouldn't be sending it to the city of Norfolk. So I've written another pissy letter, with photographic evidence, detailing why not only am I not sending them $250, but I would also like them to give back the $135 I've already paid. Oh yeah, I'm going for all of it.

Because here's the kicker: the guard at the impound lot mentioned, as we were searching for my car, that people get towed from that spot all the time because no one realizes it's a handicapped zone. This is a total sham! The city knows the sign is confusing and they don't care; it's just a money making racket. When I mentioned I worked for The Pilot, he asked if we were going to do a story on it. I was going to make this just a personal vendetta, but perhaps I will suggest it as a story. Because apparently it's my purpose in life to overhaul the parking system in the DC and Norfolk area. Wish me luck.

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The deep sadness of the swastika octopus

I have an art dilemma and I need input. Back in October, I went to the Look Alive project at Granby Theater - awesome time had by all, btw. One of the artists with work on display there had all these pictures that featured swastikas really, really heavily. Now, I took a world religions class; I know that in several eastern religions (most notably Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism), the swastika is a symbol of everything from good luck to eternity to the balance of opposites, but it's always a good thing. Obviously, that's not what most people on this side of the globe think of when they see one.
So I said to the artist, "Those are symbol-of-life swastikas, not Nazi swastikas, right?" He was totally thrilled - "You're like the first person who's actually gotten that!" he said. So long story short, he wound up giving me a little 5x7 painting:



That part on the bottom is what's painted around the edges of the canvas. So, you know, it's not exactly subtle.
So here's my dilemma: should I hang this in my house? Since October, I've had it sitting around, but haven't actually hung it. See, I know it's not a hate symbol in this context, but I'm worried that other people (all 3 or 4 people who come into my house in a year's time) will think I'm some kind of Neo-Nazi, plus it has become a symbol of so much pain and sorrow for so many people. Then again, I feel like I should display it because (1) it was a gift from the artist and he seemed genuinely happy that someone understood what he was going for, (2) apart from the swastika, I think the painting is cute, and (3) I don't think a group of hateful, murderous bigots should be able to own a millennia-old symbol of good. Which makes me wonder: can we take back the swastika? Or is it too marred by decades of evil from the third reich to the Aryan brotherhood? Oh art, you're so controversial.
By the way - if anyone knows the name of the artist, would you please post it in the comments? I can't remember, and the piece isn't signed, but I'd like to give the guy credit for his work.
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Who drinks a beer and thinks, "hmm, needs clam"?

WTF moment last night at the Harris Teeter:



It's beer with Clamato in it. Why? What marketing genius at Budweiser said "hey, our product already pretty much tastes like piss; let's make it taste like clam-y, tomato-y piss"?
Or am I missing out on something? Is this some sort of beverage trend that's sweeping the nation? Has anyone tried this? Would anyone be willing to try it and let us know how it is?
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Snack time for NASCAR

According to the bag, Cheddar Pretzel Combos are "The cheese filled snack of NASCAR". I'm a little confused - I would've expected them to be the official cheese filled snack. Is it not official? Why don't they make it official? Or maybe it is, but there wasn't room for the word "official" and they figured anyone who took the time to read that note would just assume it was official.

Not to knock Combos or anything, but what exactly is the competition for the title of "cheese filled snack of NASCAR" anyway? I can't immediately think of another snack food that is cheese-filled, so is the title sort of a de facto thing? That's like declaring fish sticks to be your "official stick-shaped fried fish product" - there's really not much else that fits that description.

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Ceiling Critter is watching me

I have a Ceiling Critter. I can hear it scratch and scurry around overhead. A lot of times, the scratching catches me off guard and makes me think there’s someone in the house. Then I realize it’s just Ceiling Critter. I don’t know what specific kind of critter it is, since I cannot differentiate the scratching of a mouse from a rat or squirrel or marmoset, and I’m sure as hell not checking in the ceiling to see.

I had a ceiling critter once before, and I called the exterminator to come deal with it, which turned out to be a huge mistake, so I’m not going that route again. Basically, he set a poison trap in the ceiling. A few days later (mid-sweltering-summer), I came home to the unmistakable “something died” smell. Ugh. I called the exterminators to tell them the critter was dead and they could come get it now, and they said “Well, we don’t come get it once it’s dead.” Huh? Turns out, the poison is supposed to make the critter thirsty, and when it leaves the house to look for water, it dies outside the house and becomes the problem of whoever’s yard it dies in. There is no backup plan for critters that fail to leave the house looking for water.

I had decided to live in peace with the current Ceiling Critter, since he stayed in the ceiling and I stayed out of it, but last night I came to a horrifying realization: there is a hole in the ceiling of the closet in my bedroom! There has been nothing stopping Ceiling Critter from coming down into my room while I sleep! Who knows if he already has! Ick! I have that closet locked up for now, which means I can’t get to half my shoes or my laundry hamper, but I have got to get that hole boarded up. Ceiling Critter must not be allowed to become "Omigod, There's A Critter In My Room!" Critter.

Of course, if anyone has Ceiling Critter removal suggestions, I’m open.

Ceiling Critter and Ceiling Cat are probably not one and the same.

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