Musical Chairs, Rodent Style

I'm making Jason watch Cowboy Bebop. We watched the first two episodes tonight. He's also reading The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman. Yay for conversion! I win.

Spring needs to arrive soon. I received a catalog in the mail with pictures of gorgeous plants and flowers of all sorts. I came so close to dropping fifty bucks on bulbs and seeds. I should just wait another month. They don't ship until the spring anyway.

I finally decided to split the two hamsters up. Their fighting hasn't been as bad since I moved them to the larger cage, but every now and then they get into squabbles. Neither one has been very active, and they seem to spend their days worrying about the other. The smaller one (who happens to be the more aggressive one) seems to enjoy smaller, confined spaces. So, I moved her over to a small Habitrail sort of cage. The larger one was moved into the ten-gallon aquarium I was housing the two gerbils in. And the gerbils were moved into the twenty-gallon aquarium both of the hamsters had been in. Musical chairs with rodents. Everyone seems happy. The gerbils are thrilled with their new space, and both hamsters are acting normal and happy. So, mission accomplished, I suppose. I wish someone at the pet store had warned me about the dangers of housing two of those little hamsters together. I had no idea they prefer to be alone and would turn into fighting demons when they hit hamster adolescence.

This news article makes me sick. The area where this poor woman was mugged is just a couple miles from my place. A co-worker of mine used to live on the corner there. It's a nice neighborhood, even slightly better than where I live. I suppose I'm relatively safe when I walk Ferguson because I never bring my purse, but still... It's disconcerting to the max. It makes me want to buy that Walther PPK that I've been lusting over. Despite being a subcompact, my Glock is just too big to carry in an ankle holster or IWB holster. Maybe it is just me being paranoid, but I think it would look super obvious that I was packing.

A Love Story and Guns

I finished Doris Lessing's The Marriages Between Zones Three, Four, and Five today. I don't think I've ever read a stranger love story. Oddly enough, I don't think I've read a better love story. If you have an open mind, then I highly recommend it. It made me laugh on one page, then angry and frustrated on another. And, of course, the true test of any love story: did it make me cry? I'm not going to deny getting teary-eyed at my work while I was covertly reading it instead of dealing with the small stack of paperwork on my desk.

The shooting range was super busy this evening when we went after dinner. I kicked Jason's ass. He took the Rutger 9mm with him since it hasn't been shot in forever. He sucks with the Rutger because he's so used to the .40 Glock. At least I wasn't the worst shot in the room. A girl had come in there with her husband or boyfriend right before we got there. It was pretty obvious she had never shot before because her target had bullet holes all over it in no particular pattern. Usually, I'm stuck up in a room with a bunch of guys who do competition shooting. I don't even know if I could hit anywhere on the target if it was twenty-five yards back.