Sunday, May 10, 2009


This is Clio. She's one of our three cats - one of the two that are mine. She'll be eight in June. She's fluffier than any short haired cat has any right to be. She's kind of tall and lanky, and loves to run around. She also has some difficulty keeping her tongue reeled into her mouth. That's very cute, unless you're close enough to smell her breath.

Also? Most annoying cat in the history of the universe. She has recently started playing this game (well, I think it's a game. Let's call it a game so I don't actually kill her) in the middle of the night. It goes like this: Clio gets behind the bedroom door and pushes it, two or three times until it swings closed (not latched). Then she scratches at it. This is the part where Player 2 (someone with opposable thumbs) is supposed to get up and open the door again. If you don't? She'll keep scratching. And scratching. She wore me out at 18 minutes last night, but I've known her to go for nearly an hour before I give up.

When the door opens, she runs out, mrrping. She goes and plays in the living room for a bit, and then comes back and does it again. If I prop the door open, she'll work away at the prop until she can get her game started. It's possible that she thinks this is a fun way to get attention when we're being boring.

Anyone want a cat?

Monday, May 4, 2009


I like to consider myself a good friend. It's definitely on my list of priorities for things to work on, and I think it's one of the most important things to be good at. I think that may be why it's pretty upsetting that I've found myself in a situation where being a good friend, or really a friend at all, is a bad idea.

I had this friend, see. Two friends, really. Perfectly nice people, well meaning, did fun things with me. But they were very very bad for me. Not bad for me in the peer pressure sense or anything, but when I was with them, I got caught up in subjects and ways of thinking that are very negative for me. It didn't seem to matter how hard I tried, or how many times we agreed that we would all try to be slightly more positive. I would spend time with these friends, and end up having to squeeze black guck back out of my brain for the next three days. Even chatting with them over email changes me a bit. I have, reluctantly, come to the conclusion that I need to cut the connection.

This is probably something that happens to everyone, and perhaps the more clueful out there figure it out in middle school. In fact, it may have happened to me before too, and I just didn't notice. I lose track of people from time to time, either through subconscious avoidance or because I'm super lazy about keeping in touch with people.

It's particularly hard on one of the two friends (ex-friends, I guess), who will be having a tough couple of months. I'd really like to stick with her, at least until this hard part is over. If nothing else, ditching her makes me feel like a rotten friend. I can argue self preservation (and in fact I'm arguing it right here), but the fact remains that if I were better at ... well, something, I would be working on being an active part of her life. Someone work out what it is that I need to be better at, so that I can at least beat myself up about something specific.

See? Even blogging about them brings it on. Self defense, I swear it!

Saturday, May 2, 2009


When we were looking for condos to buy last year, I kept checking to see whether there was any place I could grow tomatoes. I'm not saying that I would have rejected a perfect place to live because it lacked a sunny deck or back porch, but I will say that anyone near me got tired of hearing about my non-existent vegetables. That effect was probably squared for anyone who is familiar with my thumbs, which if not black are at least charcoal gray.

The place we ended up with has a sunny back deck, and furthermore the previous owners left behind several big planters, just perfect for tomatoes. (Well, I also thought they'd be perfect for bulbs, and that does not appear to have been true, so what do I know?)

Then today, on my way home from an unrelated errand, I walked past a plant sale in the local park. Plant Sale! Spontaneously, right out of nowhere. And the proceeds went to maintaining the park. Clearly I had a moral obligation to buy something.

May I present my two heirloom tomato plants on the outsides, with lemon basil and cherry tomatoes in the middle? Get a good look, because I planted them when I got home, and I fear their days are numbered.