I only have two photos in my hands. . .

. . . and one of these photos represents the girl who will go on in the competition to become. America's. Next. Top. Model. *blink blink blink*

I think I have begun to figure Juan Carlos out a bit more today. Clearly, after many cycles of whipping ladies and psychos alike into model shape, Tyra has listened to my pleas for a men's round of America's Next Top Model. And Juan Carlos intends to try out.

"Stephanie," you say. "Be reasonable. He is, after all, well under the 5' 7" height requirement for the show." (Though it will be featuring shorties this fall because Tyra wants America to understand the stigma of, you know, not being her. But I digress.)

I have, of course, arrived armed with physical evidence. No scientist/fishy mama should have any less. May I present Juan Carlos, practicing his fierceness in the mirror:

Clearly, in his last critique, Juan Carlos was told to relax his mouth. The beauty of this advice is that it means precious little, so Tyra can share it with any contestant annoying her in a given week.

"You tried, but you lost your neck. You need to be pretty-ugly, not ugly-ugly." Tyra can be so, so cruel.

Ah, but then things start looking up.

Juan Carlos has the chance to do a very high-fashion shoot designed by Mr. Jay and some famous photographer who has even shot photos of Tyra. (Cue angelic harp music.) They are going to be portraying lapse-motion photography of cars on the interstate.

But alas, he is shooting with another model - Howard. Damn him and his inherent fierceness. He almost overwhelms Juan Carlos in this photo.

But then, Juan Carlos hit his stride, and got a good shot.

That is what we call giving some serious face. You'll notice that Juan Carlos has intensity in his pose, and is smiling with his eyes, looking through the camera. Into your soul.

Fierceness -- accomplished.

crisis. . . averted! hurrah!

I got home today from work and found that the water swap I did last night worked wonders - the tank is back to being clear. Juan Carlos is back to strutting around, impressed with his own awesomeness. Howard is back to rolling his eyes at Juan Carlos. Einstein is back to getting confused and trapped under the coral archway. (Seriously, dude. You swim straight through. Work with me here.) All is well, for now at least.

I'll try to post some more photos later -- I have work to do tonight for my summer job, and unfortunately I will not focus if I leave the blog up!

crisis! maybe. I think.

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear. When I came home today, the Triplets had cloudied their tank, which I know is not good. (Hence Howard's astonishing fecal dessert earlier.) I have done some research, and I fear they may be in crisis! Why? BECAUSE. The interwebs SAID SO. And we all know the internet does not lie. Just look!

It's like one of those trailers for the movie 2012. Only sadder, because these are my babies!

In the meantime, pray for Einstein. He totally got himself wedged behind a plant just now.

That's right. I'm lookin' at you, bud.

I have already changed some of their water, and first thing tomorrow I will be procuring some water treatment drops. Here's hopin'.

oh dear

Howard just ate his own poo. I am rethinking my choice in making him the royal advisor. More later.

the first feeding

Since I have no idea when the triplets have been fed last, I decided it was a good idea to feed them a little something tonight before I head off to bed. If nothing else, I wanted to be sure that the fish flakes I bought them were satisfactory and wouldn't make them sneer, which would surely strain their gaping little mouths. I peeled open the jar of food, which smelled. Like, a lot. Like, a LOT a lot.

I'm going to mark this as Unanticipated Fishy Fact #1: Fish Food Smells Muchly. But I digress.

Anyhow, once I got the container opened, I took a pinch and dropped it in the tank. Then, I proceeded to some academic study of my new charges and their respective feeding styles.

First, a control photo to use as a foundation for my research.

Note that while Juan Carlos and Howard continue their paces around the tank, discussing foreign policy and cricket scores, Einstein is still in his corner. Eating rocks.

But lo! Mommy is going to give you food! *booming voice* Are you not entertained?! ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!? IS THIS NOT WHY YOU ARE HERE?!*

Einstein, it appears, is in fact entertained. He ate so fast that I have developed a hypothesis.

Einstein. I call it, Portrait in Doofus.

See, Einstein has rather aggressive eyes. It is my theory, based on his rapid response to the presence of food, that he actually started out quite normal, and ended up this way because he ate too fast. I myself suffer something similar when in the presence of Twizzlers or gnocchi.

Evidence? Witness:

Note here that Einstein has already started eating. Juan Carlos is nowhere to be found, and Howard, though he is moseying up to grab a bite, is pausing long enough to look at the camera and say, "You see what I put up with?"

But in Einstein's defense, Howard has been listening to Juan Carlos go on and on all day about his own gorgeousness.

Despite his rough day, Howard soon joined in.


Finally, Juan Carlos, who had been swimming around talking to thin ai -- erm, water -- realized Howard had left his side, and came to investigate.


And this is when I made a most interesting discovery. Fish can burp. All pay heed! I'm marking this as Unanticipated Fishy Fact #2: Belchers, They Are.

You doubt me? Behold! A fishy burp:


So disgusting. So unrefined. So. . . utterly without cooth! But now I do know that Einstein won't be the only one in classes. Juan Carlos is going to have a date with Emily Post. Indeed, he is.

That's it for tonight. More discoveries tomorrow, when I will see how ze fishies handle getting up early for my internship.

*Gladiator quote courtesy many moons of being friends with one Megan Grimes.

Homecoming! Hurrah!

Today after work I traipsed out into the city to adopt my fish. It was kind of dreary and rainy, and after filling my super-cute shoes with puddle water this morning, I decided I needed a pick-me-up. So after packing up my bag and hooking my bright yellow umbrella onto my wrist, I set off into the wilds.

My destination was this fantastic little aquarium shop in the Chinese section of South Philly, down the street from a corner store filled with live ducks, geese, and chickens for purchase. The shop has a wee little doorway, but once you get inside they have actually built a large-ish koi pond into the floor, so you go by the cash register and over a bridge to get to the fish tanks.

After speaking with the man in the shop, he helped me fetch Juan Carlos and Howard from the tank. They were meant to be together – he got them in a single swipe of the net! I think Howard was counseling Juan Carlos through this stressful time. In they went to their little baggie.

Then – glorious news! For the size tank I have, I could easily fit another fish. Or so I have chosen to believe based on our mutual pointing and gesticulation. Perhaps he meant that they should never be left alone, and tomorrow I will find that Juan Carlos was the victim of a horrendous, scaly coup. But for now, hurrah! Triplets! I immediately chose my third fish and named him Einstein, because he has a mad scientist look to him. The fish man scooped him out, and I was on my way out to the bus stop.

When I arrived home, the trio, rattled but generally unharmed from their journey on Philadelphia public transit (oh, they are so human! Except . . .not. . .), got acclimated to their new digs.

And so, dear world, now that they are home, may I present. . .

Juan Carlos Alfonso Victor Maria de Borbon y Borbon-Dos Sicilias (AKA Juan Carlos I)!

Howard!

and special guest,

Einstein!

When I let them into their tank, they immediately began to investigate.

Howard, overseeing the royal treasury.

Juan Carlos, viewing his riches.

Howard and Juan Carlos, immediately getting down to the business of ruling their new kingdom.

And Einstein, immediately demonstrating that I went in completely the wrong direction naming him.

Einstein, eating rocks.

Einstein, head-butting his own reflection.

Sigh. I will have to do some kind of rehab with Einstein to bring him up to grade level. But all in all, the boys seem to like their new home, and I am delighted to have them here at last!

Stick around – coming up! The babies’ first feeding, and Steph recounts some of the amazing resources available online for fish lovers and normal people alike.

nesting - photos of ze tank!

Ze tank!

The royal treasury! (OMG shiny things.)

Lou. He's cool.

and so it begins

Well, I've done it! After months (yes -- literally -- months) of research, I finally have a fish tank set up and ready for my goldfish! I am quite pleased with the tank -- it is bright and spunky and, I am assured, completely idiot-proof. (Fingers crossed.) I have been so excited about the prospect of getting fish that my friend Sara pointed out I really ought to document the whole experience. And, by the way, this documentation really ought to be available for her constant ridicule in the blogosphere.

So here be I.

For the record, I have qualifications to be a stupendous goldfish owner. Caretaker. Life coach. Oh yes. For starters, I have kept a plant alive all year, despite being in grad school and taking a three-week leave of absence from my apartment during winter break. I have also branched out into maintaining a wee pot of fresh basil that clings to my windowsill and makes one very specific corner of my apartment smell delicious.

But I am destined for bigger things, folks. Breathing things. Fishy things.

The plan is this: I am going to adopt two goldfish. One, to be named Juan Carlos I, after the reigning king of Spain, who, let's face it, was totally a goldfish in a former life. The other, to be named Howard, because it is a down-to-earth moniker and Juan Carlos needs to connect with el pueblo. They will reside in a peaceful world with a few plants, a coral alcove, a snail named Lou, and a royal treasury provided by their Auntie Lala. I intend to document our journey through photos, video, and the occassional haiku:

fishy Mama S
is what they shall call me soon
I also write prose.

So here we go - onto the interwebs and out to the pet store. Hurrah! for new things and the blogs that follow them.