Call Me Master of the Obvious

My life is pretty much dominated by three pounds of cat fur right now. I wake up when the fur says I should...else I'm bitten. I put the food in the dish when the fur tells me I should...else I'm bitten. I throw the ball when the fur says I should...else I'm bitten. I sneak around and do household tasks that don't pertain to the fur when it's asleep. It doesn't really matter, because I'm bitten no matter what.

Fortunately, the fur is very cute. And I'm relieved to know that there are other people who are also playing indentured servant to their cats. In fact, the vast majority of cat people are well-trained by their pets.

And for all those people who told me that there's porn on the internet and I didn't believe them...here's a little something-something. Yes, there may be porn out there somewhere, but most of us come here looking for kittens.

Get on the Clue Bus

Yesterday, I had a bad day. I mean it was stinking bad. The server was down at work -- when the Internets are broken, it's hard to work on the Internet...and everything was my fault. Three phone calls to the hair salon -- and I still couldn't get an appointment. My own personal plumbing has gone on the fritz again. I spent the night huddled into a ball of pain on the bed. But the kitten was very comfortable nestled in against my body heat. She never has a bad day...and when she does, she doesn't let it get to her the way I do. And while my train hit an old man on the way home from work -- it didn't hurt him -- it just knocked the shopping cart out of his hands. So that's a good thing.

Today is Friday. I have high hopes for making it through the day...but am very doubtful that my dignity will be intact. You can't ask for miracles. I am hoping that my train home doesn't hit anyone or anything. I will declare the day a success.

Ed. Note: The video story about Caspar the commuter cat has been removed from the Internets. It looks like all of the Internets. So here's the story...in text. I can't guarantee that it won't disappear...so read it now...or else!

Born To Fly

Mad Men and Bad Women

The countdown has begun until the start of the third season of Mad Men. I can hardly wait. The first summer I was the only person I knew who was watching this crazy show on AMC. It was on two late for me to watch it at its original broadcast time of 11:00pm. So I used to watch it the next day when I got home from work. I didn't have air conditioning at the time. So I remember sitting there in the heat, watching this hot show, but not having anyone to talk to about it. Everyone started watching the second season. Then the amazing little show that could won the Emmy, and now everyone is anxiously anticipating the third season. Me too! My other two favs -- Project Runway and Top Chef also both return in August. Project Runway is going to be based in Los Angeles this season, and Top Chef in Las Vegas -- which makes me even more excited.

When I named the kitten Roxy, I thought I was giving her a name that matched her sassy little personality. Now that I know her better, I realize that I should've named her Sugar, because she is just a little sweetie. Every time we go to the grocery store, I come home with another little toy for her. She treats all her toys like treasures. Last night at the grocery store we had all our stuff up on the conveyer belt when they told us we would have to move to another check-out aisle. With the assistance of a bagger who couldn't have cared less if our stuff was breakable or not, we had to refill the cart and then transfer it all back onto the conveyer belt at the new check-out stand. I noticed that the top of one of the yogurt containers had been opened in all of the loading and reloading -- so I went to the back of the store to find another one. When I got back, the checkout guy, the bagger and the HMA were waiting on me. All my stuff had been haphazardly tossed into plastic sacks. (Isn't that just the kind of casual disregard that got the yogurt lid busted in the first place? I mean, really? But I digress...) It was like nine hundred-eleventy-thousand degrees in the parking lot, and we were in a big fat hurry to get everything loaded before we burned up. While putting the bags in the trunk of the car, I found the cat toy in the cart outside of one of the bags. I never looked at the receipt, but I'm not completely sure I paid for that toy. I do know that Roxy considers it her most favorite treasure of all -- and I wonder if it's because it's like pirate's booty. Perhaps, I should've considered a pirate name...

Susan Boyle has recorded one of my favorite songs...and here's a wonderful summer movie you shouldn't miss.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Suddenly I'm finding myself with an obsession for grey tabby cats. I can't imagine why.

The Kitten Formerly Known As NNY...

I haven't written in awhile. It's because I've adopted a kitten and found out that's a full-time job. She was a little stray who wandered into a farmyard outside of Paso Robles. A friend of mine contacted me to say that a friend of hers was looking to place a boy kitten in a good home. It took me a couple of days, and a trip to the animal shelter (which is not for the faint-of-heart), for me to make the decision. I was going to adopt the little boy kitten and name him Oliver.

Oliver made the two and a half hour car ride the next day on the lap of his Paso Robles family. They adored him and would have kept him if they had more of a stay-at-home lifestyle. His first mother left him with a homemade cat toy that he still loves. Two days later, we took him to the vet and found out that he was a she. That's when I realized we couldn't call her Oliver any more. The vet's assistant changed the label on her chart from Oliver to NNY (No Name Yet) and sent me home with a kit for collecting a stool sample.

At first I was very disappointed that I was the mom of another girl cat. I was broken hearted when Goldie was put to sleep. I didn't want the new cat to be anything like her. And after missing an entire night's sleep due to her little kitten antics, I worried that I wouldn't ever get attached to her.

I shouldn't have worried.

Each day is a holiday with this adorable kitten in the house. She gets up out of bed every day like it's Christmas morning and races out to the living room to play with her toys. Every new thing she discovers brings her joy. She is curious and fearless. She races to greet everyone who walks through her door as if she was greeting the Queen of England. She purrs more than not. She is a beautiful little tabby kitten who is going to grow up into a beautiful tabby cat.

This morning, the vet called with the results of her tests. She has a little parasite that will require treatment for the next 20 days. She was too excited over seeing her toys again this morning to eat her breakfast, and I worried that she was going downhill. Panic set in, and I realized that I had gotten very attached to her and couldn't let anything happen to her. What would I do? The Handsomest Man Alive to the rescue -- he visited her at lunch and found that she had finished her breakfast and was ready to play. She not only took her first dose of medication like a lady -- she licked the applicator afterward.

I still miss Goldie more than I ever thought possible, but I think I'm going to learn a lot from this little face. She turns medicine into joy. I wish I could do that more often in my own life.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to formally introduce you to...Roxy Elizabeth...Foxy Roxy who's got a lot of moxie.

I'm Walking On Sunshine

Don't know what it's like in your part of the world this weekend, but here in Southern California we're laying in supplies for an extreme heat advisory. I'm not sure what exactly knowing that it's going to be incredibly hot in advance of the heat actually does to help the situation. I can't remember changing any plans because it's so damn hot. I do know that I tend to get a lot less done when it's really hot. And I complain a lot more.

Perhaps, that's where the excessive heat advisory comes in. I can justify my complaints because we've already been advised that it's excessive heat. Ah well, the one thing I don't like to do when it's hot is turn on the oven. The whole place heats up and the A/C has to be turned up accordingly.

So here's a great idea to do something constructive during the hot, hot heat. Not only will I have a load of baked goods when I'm done, my car will have the smell of freshly baked cookies rather than the smell of faux lemon stank from my Michelle Obama air freshener. I think someone should write an entire book of recipes to be cooked in a hot car. They'd make a fortune in Southern California. And how cool would it be to get into your car at the end of a long stressful day, knowing that dinner is already cooked? All you have to do is avoid spilling the pot roast on your commute from Hell to home and you're golden. Honestly, I'd just eat it right there in the parking lot.

The New York Times invited Bo Obama to write an Op-Ed piece...and so he did. There are economists from coast-to-coast who are kicking themselves that the White House dog got something in the Times before they did.

Speaking of the Obamas -- I thought this was an interesting article about what kind of long cool beverages are being served in the White House.

Weekend List of Things To Do:

• Watch the British Open on the HD television in an air-conditioned room.
  
• Go see "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" in a refrigerated environment.