Archive for August, 2009

3 Days of Writing

I’m not sure what to make of the female’s mood when she spends the majority of the day in frantic cleaning mode. It always starts out slow, picking up a few dishes and throwing out some trash. Then her eyes start to narrow at every light-blocking smudge on the windows and at my tumblefurs blowing across the concrete floor. Before I can seek cover she is brooming, vacuuming and mopping every surface of the apartment.  I don’t mean to complain because the place was in need of little tidying up, but ever time I tried to ease back into a sunny sleep position on the windowsill, the vacuum was flicked on once again. I don’t mind the noise so much, but ever since she tried to vacuum me I prefer to stay out of the same room as a working vacuum. I don’t think she would make another vacuuming assault in my direction, as we both have painful memories of her last attempt (her pain being of the physical variety). At least the place is clean now and I feel like a can walk across the room without licking the remnants of human sloth off my paws.

I’m not sure what brings on these cleaning fits, but it seems to happen about once a month for her. I like to tidy up my living area before starting on a project, but I’ve yet to see any signs of a new project for her.

On a completely unrelated note, I’ve been thinking about entering the 3-day novel writing contest next weekend. Last year, I watched the male imbibe gross amounts of coffee while pecking away at his laptop for three days and I thought “That could be me.” (Curious readers can check out his story at Scribd)

There are a few reasons I’m reluctant to enter the contest. Firstly, last years winner looks like an idiot. Unfortunately no excerpt of his book is provided to get a clear view of his writing style, but the plot appears to be rather barbaric.  Do humans really need another Chuck Palahniuk churning out their vulgarities? This story may impress the panel of monkeys they have judging the contest, but it feels to me like an easy gimmick.

Secondly, the entrance fee is a rather large hindrance for an unemployed cat. I’m hoping to talk my roommates into fronting me the money. I should have no problem paying them back once my masterpiece reaches the bookshelves.

Thirdly, I require 16 hours minimum of sleep daily.

At least this would give me something to do over the long Labor Day Weekend. Labor Day is one of the more infuriating holidays humans have come up with. As it is, I detest all weekends and I’m not looking forward to another long one. Weekdays give me the structure I need. I get up for my morning saucer of tea and watch the humans get ready for work, then relax in the peace until lunch time comes around. It comforts me knowing that someone has a schedule which I can set my routine to. The 3-day novel writing contest might be a welcome distraction from the chaos of an unscheduled Labor Day weekend. 


Icky Little Spiders

The female has thrown out all of her plants. She had finally spotted the aphids, or as she called them “icky little spiders,” crawling over every centimeter of her precious plants. The mint, basil, pepper, and yes, sadly the cat grass too, had been infected. Had she conducted more research she would have found that these “icky little spiders” could be taken care of easily by releasing a few ladybugs in the apartment to eat them. I, in turn, would have taken pleasure in getting rid of the ladybugs and the whole pest problem would have been solved.

Downtown Life

Check out my guest blog for Living Downtown Des Moines

Puerile Behavior

I’ve noticed something about the humans these past few days. When the female disappeared last week, I thought the male and I would be in combat mode all day long. It turned out that we got along rather well. I’d occasionally give him a friendly bite to bring his attention to my food dish, but our strong aversions toward each other had turned into an amicable dislike.

But now with the female back, I have to suffer through his abuse of my fragile self once again! Why does the female element bring out his hostile side? Could this be some leftover evolutionary trait on the Y chromosome? The female seems to have evolved past this, being no longer impressed by his primitive ways.

What’s she hiding in there?

Well, well, well. Look who’s finally decided to show up after 5 days. The female hobbled in last night with her luggage and freshly freckled face. I tried to ask where she was, but I couldn’t get a coherent response from her. Only garbled-up lyrics of random Johnny Cash songs poured out of her mouth.

While she was greeting the male, I advanced upon her suitcase to find some answers. I was struck with a strange juxtaposition of smells. The enticing aroma of southern fudge mingling with the alarming odor of freshly-washed mini-human caused me to pause for fear of a fudge-covered mini-human leaping out in attack position.

The female went to work today, although I didn’t think she would make it when she first awoke. It seemed to me as though she might be calling in with a bad case of nihilism. However, a fresh brew of the ol’ liquid motivation seemed to boost her spirits and out the door she went. I indulged in a saucerful myself and then set to work sitting guard on top of the suitcase. As of yet, no movement from within has been detected.

Leaving on a jet plane?

The female took her suitcase down after work today and is currently throwing in a large chunk of her closet. I stood in her suitcase and tried a few interrogation tactics to get information regarding her sudden vacation plans, but she was unwilling to cooperate and became irritable when I tried to critique her packing methods. She took down her computer bag as well and now I fear that she will be bringing the laptop along on this exotic vacation. I’m not sure if I can continue to blog without her computer. I may be able to sneek on to the male’s computer. I believe it to be password protected, but I think I can guess his password if given enough time. He seems to like cheese so I’ll start with cheese-related terms and go from there.

Uprising of the Mini-humans

I had aPicture 3nother encounter with a tenacious mini-human last night. This time I was undaunted by her quadrupedal style of functioning. This must be the preferred choice of mobility among the mini-humans. I was slightly spooked when she stood in the middle of the room on only 2 legs. This appears to be a look-out function only, as she did not approach me in this position. Luckily I was able to keep my distance except for a moment where one of the human visitors (non-mini variety) used her as some sort of weapon. I was able to defend myself and no fur was pulled. She also left me offerings of old Italian-style cheetos and an odd concoction of dried yogurt  bites, which I rather enjoyed.

Meow Means Meow

The constant harrasement of my being by the male has caused me much stress, hair loss, and weight gain. I say, enough is enough! He approaches the female’s closet when I am in a deep sleep upon her clothing pile, and when I wake I am being airlifted to another part of the loft, completely unknowing of where I will land. Often times I find myself being tossed at some cushy piece of furniture or slid across the floor on my back or being set on top of the female in some precarious position. I will no longer stand for this! Even now when I’m trying to type he is constantly interfering causing me much usage of the backspace key. Enough! Meow means meow!

Stare-off at dusk

The female came home today to draw my sun bath as usual, but for some reason she’s developed a nasty habit of placing her potted plants (non-cat grass variety) in the warmest spot of light. I don’t know if she means it as a nap-time snack but it has become somewhat of a nuisance. I need to find a way to get her to stop doing this, but most of our communications are misconstrued on one side or the other.

Anyway, things have become a bit awkward since I tried, once again, to eat her chewy white cord that plugs into the computer. She has sprayed some sort of bitter layer over all her cords which has left me with a horrible taste in my mouth. When she saw the nibble marks on the cord, I happened to be sitting across from her at the table. No words were exchanged, but nothing would have suited the moment better than an Ennio Morricone number. Yes, indeed, things have grown rather tense here.

The Interview

Dinner company came last night – an additional male and female. Male #1 took male #2 over to play video games in his corner. This “gaming” appears one of the main means of interaction between males. (Note: The flamboyant interior decorator who comes over on occasion is an exception to this rule. He must have an alternative procedure for interacting with other males.)

The dinner discussion touched on interviewing for jobs. It appears that the humans have many troubles with job interviews and knowing the right things to do too. I have chosen not to join the working world for many reasons. Of course, the human economy, built from greed and ignorance, creates a non-friendly working environment. All of the employers are looking for someone who is a “people person.” I may talk about people on my blog, but I will NEVER be a “people person.”

My last interview is the main reason for my reluctantly to enter the working world. I remember it all too well.

I had made it to the interview on time and in one piece, which is a big deal for a cat in this human-oriented city. Anyway, I was waiting for this interview to start when I saw the candy bowl on the desk. The overly-sugared, sticky concoctions have never been agreeable to my digestive processes. I started to wonder if I really wanted this position. After all, it wasn’t exactly my dream job. Then I saw, near the window, a beautifully-lit fresh fish bowl with the most appetizing selections that have ever greeted my eyes. Oh, how considerate of the company to think about my tastes! I could tell this was a company that truly accepted and appreciated diversity.

I helped myself to one, not wanting to look greedy, then sat quietly for a few more minutes. I began to think it might be some sort of test. What was the proper amount of fish to take? Perhaps only taking one looked rude. It was when I was reaching in for my second helping that the interviewer finally decided to appear, looking rather distraught. The greedy, human slob must have been keeping them all for himself! The room filled with a mutual disgust and I had to make my immediate exit before the claws came out.

I learned at dinner that the human concerns with interviewing deal mainly with the questioning process, which I didn’t reach in my interview. I might want to study up on the typical interview questions asked and the correct answers to them, as I may have the urge to find a paying job soon.

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