Archive for the ‘cats’ Category

Can my cat have the answer to rising gas prices?

While you/we were nursing our Halloween hangovers, the gas companies were giving it to us Pulp Fiction style while we were recuperating. I knew I woke up a little sore back there from something…

Gasoline is officially above $3 – again – on Long Island. And heating oil has hit yet another record: $3.113 a gallon. Experts say it will get worse before it gets better.


And it’s not just Long Island, of course. The highest I saw here in Dallas was over $2.81 

I recently purchased a Toyota Yaris.

Mine is black, though… 


You would think that this whole rising gas crap (AGAIN) wouldn’t affect me much. Wrong-o. With my job I am constantly on the highway — speeding along from different towns and frequent trips through tollways and maneuvering downtown. Plus bi-weekly trips to see my parents. Though I can go about a week without officially filling up, on a considerably busy week I may need to hit the pump twice. Waiting for mileage reimbursement from my company can be a real buzz kill…

So yes. Egg-owners like me are also suffering right along horrid Hummer owners in this time of gas anal spelunking. Sorry if you own a Hummer. No. I don’t hug trees.

What is happening? Really? I want the real story…

I know some of you folks have the answer, right? Anyway, pretty soon I’m going to figure out how to fuel my car with cat pee.

Day 16: Suck my kiss and tummy rubs

So it’s Day 16 and I almost didn’t hit the gym being that I had work and errands to run. By the time I got there it was nearly 11 p.m. — which assured me I would be the only one there.  I climbed up on the balcony to reach the stereo planted up high in the wall (don’t know why they feel like only short people steal) and I placed my Blood Sugar Sex Magik into the player. Then after a little stretching, I got on the machine of hell PRECOR elliptical monster and got pumping. I picked the hardest level of course because as you know from Day 15, I was overcompensating. By the time I’m at the highest hill, Anthony Kiedis is screaming “suck my kiss!” and I’m clasping my hands as if to pray  (something I rarely do anyway) because damn this is starting to hurt.

Then some guy walks in — right at the crescendo of Flea’s guitar. Because I’m a polite gym bitch, and my being nice may shock you, I tell the guy he can turn it off. He insists I was there first so it was up to me. Of course I tell him it’s OK even though the only thing keeping me on that friggin’ machine was that CD — well that and the fact that I saw my back this morning and realized I don’t need that much spine coverage. The redeeming part of this tale is the guy was at least decent looking. He decided to search out a show on the television but I don’t think I heard him ask me what I would prefer to watch. I figured since I was so damn nice, if he landed on something I hated, I would tell him. He decided on Dirty Jobs, which pleased me.

So the guy gets to stretching and I see he is taking off his cap and I realize the view is looking better. Then once on the rowing machine he takes off his shirt and gets going. Yes, my last five hills were a bit more pleasant somehow even though I was trying not to look — which I managed to accomplish because my hair kept getting in my face and you would never know the corner of my eye was gawking a tad bit. Then an older guy walks in and the two of them seem to know each other. This one is in shorts and pretty fit for whatever age I  figure he was and I became intimidated by his speed on the treadmill. By that time I was really ready to go — too much testosterone.

When I got into the apartment, I finished up on my crunches. Tiger Lily decided to find her way to my stomach to hang out. Maybe to help because she kept kneading my tummy. As if she could push my gut down. But I think even Lily knew that was a tough feat and slowly she walked away to the window instead. Yet another mixed emotion countdown day, but I feel the progress coming on. I’m going to have to really give it everything because alas, Thursday is one last day at the State Fair.

I lied.

if i were a cat…yea, this look would work.

Have a drunken, laugh out-loud, Labor Day weekend…

CHEEZBURGER! Give Lily a chance…

Maybe I’m just not clever enough. Or Ms. Tiger Lily just isn’t funny. But she never sees a day on the voting page. Sigh…

Tiger Lily

Does Casper like cats?

Tiger Lily isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. And in fact my father believes her to be crazy. But one thing my little cat can’t be called is nonobservant. 

The last few years of having Lily, I’ve noticed she has moments where while sitting on my lap in utter contentment, she will suddenly bolt her head — eyes big as saucers and then she looks either above my head or right next to me. This has been even more frequent in the past year. Sometimes she even seems to follow whatever invisible thing that is in the room as is “moves.” This seems to be a nightly ritual for her and sometimes ends with her hanging partially off my bed and staring at the nothing that has “landed” on the floor.

Cats will be cats you might say, which is true. And I am in the hottest part of hell in the South so maybe there is a nat, or skeeter, or something stalking her. But really, for this long? She may be crazy but her queer gazing and sometimes fearful reactions to her possible “non-existant” subject got me wondering. Do ghosts or spirits exist?

Goose pimples when you walk into a room that isn’t cold. That weird feeling you can get sometimes when you enter a house you’ve never been. Odd occurances you write off as “just your imagination.” Are these all signs of the supernatural?

It isn’t a news flash that we don’t use all of our brains. (Some less than others…) Do animals? I wonder if we sometimes tap into, without really thinking about it, some other part of our brain that we don’t even know how to use. And is that something the capability to sense or see what we normally would not? This may sound kind of cooky, but I will just blame it on the cat.

Besides, she may just need her eyes checked…