To Every Season
Blog, Blog, Bog
Mel has just begun a new job, one at a jewelry kiosk in Conestoga Mall. This should make things interesting at least in terms of scheduling; the odds are I'll be adjusting my schedule to fit hers whenever possible so we can travel on the bus together. (Because let's face it; winter driving in the horrid snowstorms is not fun...and neither is the sadly understandable mall policy that all employees have to park in the furthest corners so as to let the customers get the prime spots closer to the doors.)
Interestingly enough, one of her co-workers is an otaku. A newbie, yes, but an otaku never the less. This should make Anime North 2010 a unique situation, since they'll both be asking for the weekend off. Ideally the kiosk will be able to accomodate them and just hand over the hours to other part-timers clamouring for some extra change.
Admittedly this is why I much prefer being the only otaku at my store. Not only do I have the power as manager (Oooh, power trip! Shiney!) to make sure I've got that weekend off, but as the sole otaku I know no one else is going to be vying for it off for the same reasons, thus making me feel guilty for denying a fellow otaku the same once-a-year blitz I get to savour...unless they won't shut up about how Goku can kick the ass of every other anime character in existence.
In that case, they'd be working the whole damn Con weekend. I'm gloriously petty that way.
In other news, I was vastly surprised today when I took Shady out for her morning pee break and discovered a honey bee flitting about. I had honestly thought that with the recent cold snap, any wild bee hives would be preparing for hibernation. (At least, after reading Neil Gaiman's blog entries, I'm under the impression that bees hibernate in the winter. He has two bee hives. I wish I was cool enough to have bees. Not to wear like a beard, of course, but just to say to visitors, "Over there's the garage, and about fifteen meters behind it is the bee farm. We use it to scare away teenagers from trying to open the local Hellmouth.")
Come to think of it, seeing a honey bee unto itself is actually a unique experience for me. Where we live, one typically sees either bumblebees (yays!) or wasps (the opposite of yays!). This is the first time in a long while that I've seen your standard honey bee. It's good to know they're more or less still around--and taking advantage of the strange warm snap too.
This reminds me: our ladybug herd arrived earlier this past week. This is a definitive sign of the impending winter.
For those of you who don't know (or, like me, have forgotten it like so many inconsequential things, like wearing pants), every Fall our apartment complex inexplicably becomes home to a decent-sized herd or ladybugs. The orange Japanese kind, not our usual red ones; sadly, I haven't seen a red ladybug around here in at least 2 years. Those who survive the season will be here all winter, eventually leaving around March. Anyhoo, one morning I took Shady out and noticed a very large, orange-with-spots patch in the top corner of our floor's hallway.
Yep, they'd arrived.
Ever since, wherever you go in the complex, you can see ladybugs skittering about on the walls, the ceiling, the pipes and sometimes even in your own apartment. We've seen three in our place so far. I'm pretty sure Chance has eaten all but one. That's the disadvantage of being a bug in our apartment: we have a cat who will watch you with rapt fascination before hunting and devouring you. On the downside, it means we don't see ladybugs in our apartment; on the plus side, annoying flies have a very short life expectancy when they make it inside. And, years ago when we were in our one-bedroom, and our particularly filthy neighbours had a cockroach infestation that leaked into our home, Chance was the sole reason the cockroaches all but vanished from sight.
Hooray for predatory instincts!
Labels: Gil Grissom would know the answers to these insect questions
posted by Phillip at 6:23 AM
