Amber & Diversity and Ancestry

Kevin and I were talking today about species diversity.  You know: horse, pony, mule, donkey, zebra.  And maybe Przewalski's Horse.

And that made us think of Homonids.  And how there used to be so many more of us: Humans, Neanderthals, Homo Florensis.  And now we are all alone.

And that made me think back to when Neanderthals had pets.  You remember the part in The Inheritors where Fa and Lok are petting their pet pint-size Eodromaeus?

A little known fact about the Eodromaeus is that its full name is the Homo Bigtiggula, which is actually--and you can totally tell by looking at it--one of Tiggy Winkle's ancient ancestors.

See her there?  Walking in the footsteps of her wild, woodland ancestors?  Or, see the similarity here?

Science and history.

Amber & Breaking (and Sassy) News!

Ever-vigilant Kevin sends this breaking news from CSM about two of my favorite (and most blogged species):


Monkeys...

...and Squirrels.

The headline SLAYS me.

And, I found this conclusion fascinating.

"It is more likely that a simple misunderstanding about the squirrels' nature underpins the melee."

It reminded me of two other animals with a similar antagonism:

Tiggy...

...and Pickles.

Tiggy just misunderstands that Pickles is a baby and just wants to snuggle, or maybe attack her and chew her head, in the most loving way possible.

Amber & Medical Miracle

Look how much better my fashingles are!

I mean, my head still hurts, and it stings and throbs like it was on fire and somebody was punching me in the nose simultaneously, but it did not cross the line and is clearly getting drier (eww) and smaller.

Thank you, antiviral drugs.

Amber & Everybody's Fancy

Some kitties are curly on the outside.

But they are not so furry on the insides.

Every kitty is fancy, every kitty is fine.  Your kitty's fancy, and so is Pickles.

Amber & Auto-Tune

I had no idea what auto-tune was until Nick showed me this where science meets yoga.

And then this incredibly important story broke.



It doesn't seem like a wholly bad thing to me.  Although Pickles is now hiding under the bed.

Amber & Really, Technology?

So, some of you will remember the first time I used my oven and CRD and I nearly died from laughter when we learned that, in addition to beeping super super loudly, my smoke detector said in a incredibly calm woman's voice,  "Fire.  Fire.  Carbon Monoxide."  And, if the laughter didn't kill us, the panic of trying to stop the beeping (did I mention it was super loud?) might have.  The event gave me great concern both about what was burning off inside my oven to cause that smoke and about the extra stress of the beeping--while I was trying to gather all four cats into carriers--in case of a real fire fire.  (Carbon monoxide.)

Well, guess what I just learned, at 5:00 am on a Sunday morning, happens when the smoke detector's battery gets low?

"Beep.  Beep.  Low battery."


I'll let you puzzle out how I managed to a) get the damn thing of the ceiling (I have really high ceilings, being on the top floor), and b) figure out where the battery was.  And if that's too easy, you can puzzle out how I disconnected it since it was wired directly into the electrical system. That's right, the battery is only it's backup source of power.

This seems like a really bad over-use of technology.  Just because we can, doesn't mean we should.

Amber & Pretty Little Guy

Nick sends this video from the Boston Museum of Science and asks, "What is this little guy doing?"





Drying his wings, I'd guess.  And being a beautiful little butterfly buddy whose quintessence is daintiness.

Amber & Forks

When you think about it (which I do alot these days), ambivalence is really an expression of the complexity of the human mind.  It's not a bad thing to be able to appreciate a choice isn't either right or wrong, but that there are different consequences and results for each.  Looking on the bright silver lining side, it's actually evidence of thoughtfulness and intelligence to be able to feel two ways about one thing at the same time, or alternately.

The way I see it, with my glasses where the supposedly protective coating is flaking off the left lens or with my contacts where the right eye is an older prescription, decisions are just like math.  You need to add up all of the pros and cons and hope they don't just balance out to zero like a redox equation (to mix my math and science).  The trick, though, is assigning values to the components.  Some factors are more valuable than others.  For example, a bunch of things may all be prickly, but maybe only one of them is also a hedgie.

So, where does that leave us?  Doing alot of math in our heads.

But, while we do math, time makes decisions for us.  While I am adding up the benefits of short hair vs. my Plan, I am cruising along the path to puffs.

For example.

Amber & Doctors

My feelings about doctors are multifaceted.  When I am sick, I tend to put too much trust in them, transforming my eager desire to feel better into devotion to every diagnostic word they say.  But, sometimes they are wrong.  And sometimes, they make bad choices and cause me twelve hours of misery.  Doctors' jobs are incredibly hard, but they are just regular people and they are far from perfect.

I often think I missed my calling to be an animal doctor.  I was exceptionally good at chemistry and biology, and I love animals.  And I am super good at keeping them calm while I perform procedures.

But, maybe I would have had difficulty emotionally separating myself from the pets.  Nobody wants a vet who cries more than you when your animal buddy has to be put to sleep.

I do look super good in white, though.

Maybe it's not too late for me to become an holistic practioner for doggies?  You know, giving them herbal baths and massage and stuff?

Amber & The Morning Funnies

Ha!  Those zany physicist jokes.  Get it?

Me neither, but it has dueling cats!

Amber & The Sunday News

So, it snowed.  Those people who say things about weather said it was going to, and it really did.

The prediction was for between 4 and 18 inches-- allowing for a pretty ridiculously wide margin of error, proving that meteorology is not a real science (like dentistry and veterinary medicine and especially veterinary dentistry).  They hit the mark here at the top of Manhattan; the National Weather Service reported 6 inches just to my north in Inwood.  Sure looks about right.

In the quest for wet food for Woody, I ventured out early enough to bring back some virgin snow from the railing for kitties to play with.

I brought it in and put it on a baking sheet on the floor.  The big cats were uninterested, but the little guys sniffed and swatted and licked and had crazy head.  I even threw a snowball at Pickles!  (He fell over trying to bite it off his own head.)

I like the snow.  It's super grounding and pretty.  It makes me smile at strangers.  It also gives me a chance to amortize the value of my Wisconsin boots.

With my booted feet and purple puff coat, all I needed was the red flag to help me cross the street and it would be just like Wisconsin.  Except better.

Amber & News Flash: Sets

I've been to the near-future.  David shared one of his Google Wave invitations with me, and so he and I and Amy have been in the year 2013 learning about what online communication will be like.

In the future, people play a game involving the mathematical principle of sets called "sodoku."  The object is to complete each row and each 3 x 3 square within the grid with the unique members of the numerical set from 1 to 9.  Having been to the future, I can tell you this game is going to be very addictive.  I stayed up past my bedtime last night (but last night in the future) dealing with a grid with just not enough 3's or 8's.  I predict (and we know how I am on the cutting edge of things) that people will play these games on paper or their iPhones on the train, in doctor's offices, and online.

Better than those games where you shoot at stuff, right?  And maybe even good for your brain?

Amber & Hallucicopters & Vulnerable Vultures

I have had a terrible, terrible TMJ-triggered headache since I sat down on the D train uptown after work on Friday evening. By the time I got to 125th Street to change to the A, I was seeing floaters and experiencing phonophobia. And then, when I got off the train in the 175th Street Station and took a breath of that fresh east side exit stairwell, the nausea began. Friday night and Saturday were pretty much a blur of trying to nap, alternating cold and hot compresses, jaw clenching remedy, lion pose and chest stretches. But then, last night at 2 am, I was awoken by the sound of helicopters right outside my window and a searchlight flooding in my window.


Now, it's completely true that, over the course of the weekend, my system was treated to a cocktail of 1 part anti-spasm Cyclobenzaprine, several parts muscle-relaxant, anti-spasticity aid Zanaflex, one part anti-inflammatory Diclofenac, and a dash of just about every over-the-counter pain pill that didn't contraindicate the blend and a spritz of peppermint oil for a wholistic flavor. And, its absolutely true that Wikipedia claims that...

Tizanidine use has been associated with hallucinations. Visual hallucinations and delusions have been reported in 5 of 170 patients (3%) in two North American controlled clinical studies.

But that's totally lacking citation. And, I confirmed the reality of the helicopter, which made rounds from 2 am until about 8, with tweets from both GoGetter122 and 5starr_Chick (you really have to scroll down; 5starr_Chick in particular is a tweety little bird). And there was this unanswered question on Yahoo! Answers, providing no explanation but assuring me that I wasn't imagining a helicopter in some drastic self-punishing hallucination. After all, what is worse for a migraine than a loud helicopter and a search light?

Really, the side effects I most worry about from the fistfulls of pills I have been popping (which are just now seeming like maybe they are starting to work a little bit, maybe? knock wood very quietly? please?) are vulture extinction, rabies, disruption to Zoroastrian Parsi cultural practices, and the ruin of Wisconsin brunch. No, really I swear I'm only a little doped right now and the persistent pain is pretty grounding. Wikipedia, my frenemy, tells me...

Use of diclofenac in animals has been reported to have led to a sharp decline in the vulture population in the Indian subcontinent, 95% decline in 2004, 99.9% decline as of 2008. The mechanism is probably renal failure, a known side-effect of diclofenac. Vultures eat the carcasses of livestock that have been administered veterinary diclofenac, and are poisoned by the accumulated chemical. At a meeting of the National Wildlife Board in March 2005, the Government of India announced that it intended to phase out the veterinary use of diclofenac.... "The loss of tens of millions of vultures over the last decade has had major ecological consequences across the Indian subcontinent that pose a potential threat to human health. In many places, populations of feral dogs... have increased sharply from the disappearance of Gyps vultures as the main scavenger of wild and domestic ungulate carcasses. Associated with the rise in dog numbers is an increased risk of rabies" and casualties of almost 50,000 people.

The loss of vultures has had a social impact on the Indian Zoroastrian Parsi community, who traditionally use vultures to dispose of human corpses in Towers of Silence, but are now compelled to seek alternate methods of disposal.

Diclofenac was shown also to cause harm to freshwater fish species such as rainbow trout.

See how horrible my headache is?

I'm sorry, Mr. Vulture. I feel really bad about putting my head pain first.

Amber & Out of the Frying Pan

I have returned from the Bay Area. All of the kitties are fine: Woody's nose is 99% healed, Tiggy only puked once (and not on my bed!), Ginger is shedding like crazy from a week of not being pet, and Pickles needs to be right next to me everywhere I go. I have some cleaning to do (six days of cat shedding, plus laundry) and some work (no meetings today!).

But, it is really really really hot. Oh man is it hot. I went out to get cat food and an iced beverage and almost sweat myself into a shriveled heap.

I really would move to San Francisco... if it wasn't going to fall off into the ocean in the next 30 years.

Amber & Cat Science

Nick brought my attention to this bit of scientific analysis.

I totally could have been a vet. (You can click on it to go to the page to see it bigger.)