Who has time to blog? Not me, apparently. I think about potential blog posts all the time, but never at a time when I am both connected to the Internet and able to use it (two very different things, especially given my office’s policies).

On the weekends, for months now, I’ve been shirking. Well, ya basta.

I’m constantly reading news and blog posts about politics, and shaking my head with dismay at the sheer… blind arrogance exhibited by many Big Name Pundits on both sides. Truth be told, the folks on the conservative side, with a few shining exceptions, all seem to be shouting just loud enough to drown out the voices in their heads.

The folks on the left side of the Internet strike me as reasonable, but perhaps a little wistfully optimistic, quoting polls and such that indicate that things maybe aren’t as bad as everybody says they are, or that the President is not really that unpopular with most people who don’t shout at computer screens all day.

Sorry, no links… it’s kind of awkward putting them in without a mouse, and I’m on the iPad at the moment with a paired wireless keyboard. Maybe I should fire up the laptop or the desktop? Naaaah, this chair is comfy.

David and I just went to Panera to have a cuppa in relative calm; the house is completely covered in roofers – small energetic mean tearing bits off and pounding new bits back on. They had completely stripped the old roof off by about 9am, when we left to take David’s car to the dealership for maintenance, and when we came back, even more guys arrived with some more materials, and the original guys had gotten the roofing felt mostly on and were adding other layers before the final layer of shingles. I’d say there are at least 6 guys up there, plus more on the ground who seem to be in charge of getting materials up the ladders (they’re not using a portable conveyor belt).

Fortunately the weather is clearing and it’s becoming quite a pleasant spring day, if a bit damp around the edges (we did get a LOT of rain last night).

We’ve been… occupied the last couple of months dealing with Riley’s diagnosis of chronic feline leukemia. He’s still fine, but still too skinny, and it’s gotten more and more difficult to “pill” him consistently. We’ve managed the important stuff (the chemo pills he gets are only given every two weeks, after a blood test comes back) but I’ve funked the small stuff more often then not. However, we’ve gotten him past a couple of upper respiratory infections where he wasn’t eating much due to not being able to smell his food, and just now he’s nibbling away at his kibble in the kitchen.

This is a sound to make a catmom happy, believe me. I’ve been rather ludicrously desperate to get him to eat, even going so far as to hand feed him when he was all stuffed up. When he eats, David and I look at each other and smile. Riley is otherwise active, if a little subdued and a little wobbly; he still jumps up on the bed and runs up and down stairs, and string is still a favorite toy. He’s been wonderfully cuddly at night (sometimes too cuddly and needy).

And in fact he has now plopped down in my chestal area, as there’s not room for him in my lap with the keyboard and iPad, and he’s happily leaning into me with the tip of his tail twitching.

I cherish these little cuddly interludes, because who knows? He’s currently happy and interested in the world and loves us, and as long as he’s happy and eating, we’re content to continue with the struggles to pill him, and the twice-monthly vet visits for the blood tests.

I just wish he’d eat more consistently, as he continued to lose weight every time it was checked, until this last time when at least it was the same. He’s just too skinny, and doesn’t have any body fat at all. I think he’s put on a bit since the last visit, but won’t know for sure until after Monday, his next appointment.

Work continues to be work – it’s busy enough, is sometimes slow-ish, but more often it’s pretty lively. I’ve been complaining a lot about excessive scent or perfumes, though, and not sure if it’s worth continuing to complain, because nothing will really be done. I recognize that management does not really want to open up the can of worms and advise people face to face that they wear too much hair gel or cologne or highly scented hand lotion. Meanwhile, pretty much as soon as I arrive at work, my head gets stuffed up, my eyes sting, I get a “taste” in my mouth, and then I get a headache. The culprits are mostly on teams that sit on either side of our bank, but I think some of the scented hand lotion is somewhere on my team. Leaders can’t seem to bring themselves to say anything… so I bitch and whine and moan and generally bore people to death with my complaints.

Oh, and I sneeze, sniffle, and groan too. Passive agressive bitch that I am, that’s about all I can do.

I watched the first episode of Game of Thrones last night, since I got home early enough from the Good Friday service (and again, thanks be to God that we decided to keep that one short and non-choral).

Maybe it’s my background as an English major and a reader of a hell of a lot of “epic” fantasy novels, but the foreshadowing in the first half hour or so was so blatant to me that I correctly predicted which of the 5 legitimate Stark children would be the first to die; if you’re going to line all the kids up, and also note that there are 5 of them, and then the mother warns one of them not to keep doing something dangerous, um, that kid’s wearing the Red Tunic.

Also, if you’re going to have blatant creepy undertones of brother-sister incest in one clan of hyper-blondes, you likely will have secret creepy undertones of brother-sister incest in another clan of quite blonde and impossibly beautiful blondes.

However, I’ve enjoyed the show for all that, as I like Sean Bean and the others in the cast all seem to be good at what they do. As a Jason Mamoa fan (he was Ronin on Stargage: Atlantis) I wasn’t thrilled at they way he’s made up as a sort of barbaric horse lord with weird eye makeup and a goofy topknot, and so far he’s done little more than grunt and paw his “bride,” who is little more than a sexual pawn in her hyper blond brother’s plans to regain his lost throne.

As a side note, Winterfell, the place where Sean Bean’s character rules with a long and sharp sword before getting “asked” by the high king to be his “hand” or fighting regent or whatever, is also a place in Second Life. I don’t know if the Winterfell region is in the same theme as these books, as I thought it was in the Steampunk genre. Could be wrong, though, as I don’t know if I’ve ever visited there.

As a completely different side note, the opening credits of “Game of Thrones” are very helpful, with an animated clockwork map showing where the various locations are. I keep confusing some of the places and plot points with the ones from another “sword and fantasy” series I read recently, but that one had lots more sorcery and this one, so far, just has undead zombies with a knack for beheading.

It’s a pretty gory show, there’s lots of female nudity and not nearly enough male nudity, and there’s even plenty of simulated public or not-very-private sex (mostly very energetic doggy-style, probably more practical given the medievalist garb everyone wears). The gore, at least, is not done in close up and is very fast and efficiently done, although there’s the occasional galloping head being tossed around. This ain’t no kid’s show, that’s for sure, and the inevitable DVD will no doubt show even MORE gore and sex.

This is probably why HBO moved to renew for a second season immediately after the premiere episode aired – they’ve got swords AND sex, how could they not? And I can tell you that female fantasy fans do like to see a lot of headboard rattlin’ along with the swordplay and the costumes. Fortunately, the dialogue is refreshing – it’s somewhat elevated in tone, but the high and mighty use each other’s nicknames in private and the dialect they’ve chosen is a fairly rough-sounding North of England one for the “good” characters. The effete hyper blonds have elegant clothes and diction, especially the brother who lost his throne (not knowing the storyline, I’m guessing he was a child when he was exiled).

The costumes are very good – worn, dirty, very full and lots of quilted fabric and big shoulder furs for the men, and interesting dresses and easy-access chemises for the women. The outfits the poor hyper-blond princess wears were both designed to be unfastened at the shoulders and dropped to expose her fully – poor thing, women in her society pretty much are chattel unless they’re lucky enough to marry for love.

I can’t pretend to understand all the underpinnings of plot and character yet, I’m content to let it be revealed, but so far the exposition has been reasonably paced and not too, too Basil for words.

I will say that although I expected it, I was still shocked and saddened by what happened to a perfecly nice and sympathetic young member of the Stark clan. All hope of a miraculous rescue seems lost, according to dialogue shown in the preview for the next episode (which will be shown tomorrow, although I probably won’t watch until Monday). I hope that justice is soon served but suspect that there’s much more than needs to happen plot wise before punishment is meted out.