well then.
Jun. 22nd, 2005 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7Got another text message at work today. Had my phone out: Dave had said he was going to hear back from the people he interviewed with on Monday, who if they were smart would hire him. There's another job Dave wants more that he applied to, but they're being exceedingly slow at getting back to him, so he was pondering what he ought to do with this company that really ought to hire him should they in fact do so. Not like he'd turn it down, as he desperately needs employment.
But the text message was another haiku in which Dave informed me that the company had decided to hire someone else instead. Which boggles the mind, audibly (it makes a noise like *boggleboggleboggle* and is rather an unpleasant sensation): the other candidate who interviewed alongside Dave had no teeth, bad hair, and (this is the part that actually matters) was passionate about obsolete technologies and argued with the interviewer about the company's decisions to use certain software configurations. Which both seemed to me to be pretty good ways to not get hired. But. They chose someone else besides Dave, despite having told him he was by far the strongest candidate.
I suggested we drink, but Dave shrugged and said his stomach was too empty. Maybe later.
My day was otherwise mediocre. No good stories from bar patrons. No good money either, though everyone tipped fairly well-- there just weren't many of them.
No good gardening stories, no good food stories; just not much of a day. Except met the newest-hired bartender, who is a med school student taking a year off, is like six-five, and is hawt. I sort of blinked at him in astonishment and mumbled something. I mean, not my type, but still. Incoherence is sort of my specialty.
Perhaps a bit later I'll feel less glum and can come up with some kind of poll to name New Foosh. Also, I hope to somehow get a better picture of her. Fish are really, really, really hard to photograph.
Shirley, by the way, is doing quite well in the big tank, and is back to normal. She hasn't learned any kind of lesson about trying to escape, though. We've covered the gap of the tank's top with newspaper so she can't get out. What a doofus.
But the text message was another haiku in which Dave informed me that the company had decided to hire someone else instead. Which boggles the mind, audibly (it makes a noise like *boggleboggleboggle* and is rather an unpleasant sensation): the other candidate who interviewed alongside Dave had no teeth, bad hair, and (this is the part that actually matters) was passionate about obsolete technologies and argued with the interviewer about the company's decisions to use certain software configurations. Which both seemed to me to be pretty good ways to not get hired. But. They chose someone else besides Dave, despite having told him he was by far the strongest candidate.
I suggested we drink, but Dave shrugged and said his stomach was too empty. Maybe later.
My day was otherwise mediocre. No good stories from bar patrons. No good money either, though everyone tipped fairly well-- there just weren't many of them.
No good gardening stories, no good food stories; just not much of a day. Except met the newest-hired bartender, who is a med school student taking a year off, is like six-five, and is hawt. I sort of blinked at him in astonishment and mumbled something. I mean, not my type, but still. Incoherence is sort of my specialty.
Perhaps a bit later I'll feel less glum and can come up with some kind of poll to name New Foosh. Also, I hope to somehow get a better picture of her. Fish are really, really, really hard to photograph.
Shirley, by the way, is doing quite well in the big tank, and is back to normal. She hasn't learned any kind of lesson about trying to escape, though. We've covered the gap of the tank's top with newspaper so she can't get out. What a doofus.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-06-22 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 11:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-22 11:57 pm (UTC)Cosmopolitan cocktails are a) red b) have lime c) come in a glass that fans out.
Perfick.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 11:07 am (UTC)But this foosh's body is yellow.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 11:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 12:05 pm (UTC)Girl & boy name. Nice and verstatile for your tomboy betta.
Oh, I was wondering who does the water chemistry? I am about to get me some fooshies but I am scared of all the water chemical combos that the websites say you gotta do! You seem to just have a bowl, rocks and fish? Do you have heaters and filters hidden off camera?
no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 12:12 pm (UTC)We have our fish set up in a partitioned 15-gallon hex tank with a filter but no heater. We put Aquasafe (to neutralize chlorine) and a little aquarium salt (to keep fungus and parasites away) into the water, and do partial water changes every couple of weeks. The fish seem more active now that the ambient temperature (and thus the water temperature) is warmer, so maybe this winter we'll invest in a heater, but for the moment it's just room temperature and they do fine.
We only have bettas, and this New Foosh Girl is our first effort with having two bettas in a partition together (thus, our first attempt at having them be social). So far, it hasn't worked. Female bettas are supposedly not aggressive, but, well, New One is chasing poor Shirley all over, and they were flaring at each other before.
So.
The chemical stuff is fairly straightforward, and Al was kept in a jar for almost a year with the only chemical futzing being that the owner used filtered water and let it sit overnight to equalize temperature. Bettas aren't fussy. If they hate the world enough, they'll live forever. (If they stop caring, medicate medicate medicate.)