3.10.2006
3.09.2006
Of spring and stray cats
Spring weather has an early arrival - this afternoon felt like a cool summer day, it smelled delicious and I could only think of swimsuits and picnics. Flu season, on the other hand, came late - half the people around me are wheezing and hacking, absolutely miserable. Of course, not long ago I was one of them and there's no saying I won't join them again, but for now I'm glad to be up and about with a clear head. (Never underestimate the simple pleasure of being able to taste your dinner...)
Yesterday, after spending many hours and a small fortune at the laundromat, E and I were about to lug our six loads of laundry up to the apartment when I heard a wee little mewing in a distance. It came from down the street, and under the amber streetlights, I saw a little shadow scuttling down the sidewalk towards us, mewing urgently the whole way. E set down his load and walked up to pet the creature, heck with rabies and all. It had just been raining so it was kinda nippy; poor little kitty was cold and confused. Little baby must've been no older than 5 months, it had a short white coat with patches of brown and black. Desperate-looking eyes. It didn't have a collar; it was too well-groomed to be a stray, but kinda scrawny for a domestic cat. We decided we should at least carry our stuff inside first, and kitty kept following us, all the way up the stairs. Our own princess kitty was waiting for us at the foot of the steps, and she knows there's another kitty outside - good thing for the two doors between them. Pepper was restless and at attention, her tail was bushy and pointed straight up like a radar. E stayed a while to soothe her, but he kept thinking about the other cat. (Sigh, men.) So I held Pepper while E stepped outside to 'work on the lost kitty', who had been mewing at the door the whole time.
Through the glass, I could see E perched over, looking genuinely concerned, trying to figure out what to do with the cat that couldn't stop mewing at him. He came up with an idea to feed the lost kitty with the fancy cat food and sippy milk we got for Pepper. Zipping in and out with bowls of chicken livers and warm milk, E was like a busy OR tech. Pepper watched on. It was quite something to watch; E, my super alpha male, all mushy and soft for a cold, lost kitten, crouched over like a little boy.
Bringing the other cat in was a bad idea, so with a heavy heart, E left it on the porch (with food and milk) while he came back inside. I wondered if Pepper had any concept of cheating and feline polygamy, but she seemed to have forgotten by the end of the night.
Hope the kitty is okay! Wonder if we'll see it again...
Yesterday, after spending many hours and a small fortune at the laundromat, E and I were about to lug our six loads of laundry up to the apartment when I heard a wee little mewing in a distance. It came from down the street, and under the amber streetlights, I saw a little shadow scuttling down the sidewalk towards us, mewing urgently the whole way. E set down his load and walked up to pet the creature, heck with rabies and all. It had just been raining so it was kinda nippy; poor little kitty was cold and confused. Little baby must've been no older than 5 months, it had a short white coat with patches of brown and black. Desperate-looking eyes. It didn't have a collar; it was too well-groomed to be a stray, but kinda scrawny for a domestic cat. We decided we should at least carry our stuff inside first, and kitty kept following us, all the way up the stairs. Our own princess kitty was waiting for us at the foot of the steps, and she knows there's another kitty outside - good thing for the two doors between them. Pepper was restless and at attention, her tail was bushy and pointed straight up like a radar. E stayed a while to soothe her, but he kept thinking about the other cat. (Sigh, men.) So I held Pepper while E stepped outside to 'work on the lost kitty', who had been mewing at the door the whole time.
Through the glass, I could see E perched over, looking genuinely concerned, trying to figure out what to do with the cat that couldn't stop mewing at him. He came up with an idea to feed the lost kitty with the fancy cat food and sippy milk we got for Pepper. Zipping in and out with bowls of chicken livers and warm milk, E was like a busy OR tech. Pepper watched on. It was quite something to watch; E, my super alpha male, all mushy and soft for a cold, lost kitten, crouched over like a little boy.
Bringing the other cat in was a bad idea, so with a heavy heart, E left it on the porch (with food and milk) while he came back inside. I wondered if Pepper had any concept of cheating and feline polygamy, but she seemed to have forgotten by the end of the night.
Hope the kitty is okay! Wonder if we'll see it again...
3.04.2006
Cake theft (edit)
This may be the strangest blog post I've ever written.
If you see a picture floating on the web of a yummy chocolate cake, with a single candle and "Happy Birthday Sweetie" written on it, that's somebody else pretending they have a chocolate cake. Yeah. That's MY cake. It was E's birthday cake that I bought from Four Leaves Bakery at Paragon in Singapore. (It's Chocolate Classico under the Cakes link.)
Apparently, it's one of the top hits on a certain search engine. (Who knew that cake would have a life of its own after we uploaded it?) E discovered its unusual popularity while going through his web log. It's highly amusing, yet somewhat annoying. People must've found it and figured, hey I'll post it on my blog, myspace shoutout, whatever... and pretend it's mine. Too lazy to get their own. One dude posted it on his blog in a birthday post and had people cooing about how sweet that was. I could be petty and leave a snarky comment about stealing cake pictures...
How weird, huh.
EDIT: Now a Danish photographer wants to use one of our pictures in a collage that will be printed into postcards. A Frenchman has been spamming the gallery with odd comments. A Singaporean asks which restaurant a food pic is from. Capital One viking says: What's in your photo gallery?
If you see a picture floating on the web of a yummy chocolate cake, with a single candle and "Happy Birthday Sweetie" written on it, that's somebody else pretending they have a chocolate cake. Yeah. That's MY cake. It was E's birthday cake that I bought from Four Leaves Bakery at Paragon in Singapore. (It's Chocolate Classico under the Cakes link.)
Apparently, it's one of the top hits on a certain search engine. (Who knew that cake would have a life of its own after we uploaded it?) E discovered its unusual popularity while going through his web log. It's highly amusing, yet somewhat annoying. People must've found it and figured, hey I'll post it on my blog, myspace shoutout, whatever... and pretend it's mine. Too lazy to get their own. One dude posted it on his blog in a birthday post and had people cooing about how sweet that was. I could be petty and leave a snarky comment about stealing cake pictures...
How weird, huh.
EDIT: Now a Danish photographer wants to use one of our pictures in a collage that will be printed into postcards. A Frenchman has been spamming the gallery with odd comments. A Singaporean asks which restaurant a food pic is from. Capital One viking says: What's in your photo gallery?
3.03.2006
Sick as a dog, but...
The nice thing about a bad throat is an excuse to eat all the ice-cream I want. :)
3.01.2006
March
My travel agent just fell off the face of the earth. This is particularly annoying when you realize February only has 28 days and all of a sudden, it's one month closer to the Big Trip. Holy cow.
I am cold. I was warm. It was in the mid-40s today, after 3 or so inches of snow yesterday. I had desperately hoped for a snow day, so I could sleep in and snuggle up with the boy (whom I hate to leave every morning). Alas, the weather was just miserable enough that I got my dress pants wet in the snow and spent 10 minutes scraping ice off the car. At least it gave me a chance to do something I've grown to love doing but don't do very often - shovel!
Now why I would despise cleaning snow off the car but look forward so to shoveling... beats me. I have to stand out in the cold either way and freeze like a popsicle, which is never fun. But the sweeping motion of a shovel, how cathartic it is see the driveway clean and flat again... ahhh. Scraping ice is an activity above the waist; snow gets everywhere, especially on black wool coats, then melts when you're in the car, leaving nasty wet surprises when you tug on your coat to keep warm. Shoveling! It's mucking around at your feet, as methodical as sweeping (dividing the area into grids and sections), perfect for the OCD-afflicted. None of the reaching and stretching around the contour of your car - just wide, flat surfaces, like spreading butter over bread. I'm still an amateur, of course, and I'm sure if either of the two men in the building watched me through the window, they would smack their foreheads. But I do it my way, and no matter how long it takes, the job gets done.
After the debauchery of Mardi Gras and Carnival, Lent begins today with Ash Wednesday. My sisters are officially Alpha Chi Omega. The sun no longer sets at 6pm. Spring collections are out in stores.
I miss a warm, humid thunderstorm.
I am cold. I was warm. It was in the mid-40s today, after 3 or so inches of snow yesterday. I had desperately hoped for a snow day, so I could sleep in and snuggle up with the boy (whom I hate to leave every morning). Alas, the weather was just miserable enough that I got my dress pants wet in the snow and spent 10 minutes scraping ice off the car. At least it gave me a chance to do something I've grown to love doing but don't do very often - shovel!
Now why I would despise cleaning snow off the car but look forward so to shoveling... beats me. I have to stand out in the cold either way and freeze like a popsicle, which is never fun. But the sweeping motion of a shovel, how cathartic it is see the driveway clean and flat again... ahhh. Scraping ice is an activity above the waist; snow gets everywhere, especially on black wool coats, then melts when you're in the car, leaving nasty wet surprises when you tug on your coat to keep warm. Shoveling! It's mucking around at your feet, as methodical as sweeping (dividing the area into grids and sections), perfect for the OCD-afflicted. None of the reaching and stretching around the contour of your car - just wide, flat surfaces, like spreading butter over bread. I'm still an amateur, of course, and I'm sure if either of the two men in the building watched me through the window, they would smack their foreheads. But I do it my way, and no matter how long it takes, the job gets done.
After the debauchery of Mardi Gras and Carnival, Lent begins today with Ash Wednesday. My sisters are officially Alpha Chi Omega. The sun no longer sets at 6pm. Spring collections are out in stores.
I miss a warm, humid thunderstorm.
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