Torture.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Sat, 09 Feb 2008 19:09:38 -0600

It's no secret I desperately want a cat. As you might remember, back in August the universe was sending me cats, even though I feel certain the universe is aware that my apartment does not allow them. The most memorable of these was an adorable little black-and-white kitten who I just so happened to take two pictures of on my cell phone:

Forgive my cheesy formatting, but I'm too lazy to mess with Vox and its impossibleness.

So! This past weekend I was forced to get a new phone due to my LG Chocolate's general suckage. (Just after the one year warranty was up, the touch screen starts acting funny--either not working at all or repeatedly pressing buttons that I only pressed once. This is especially annoying if the button is "send" and the phone continually redials after I've hung up.) I also got a micro SD card and adapter in order to save the 150-ish pictures/movies I had on my old phone. I found the two above pictures and wondered about my little kitten--I never saw him again.

Fast forward a week to today, when I pull into my apartment's parking lot and notice near the House of 1,000 Cats that's across the street a small but adult black and white cat. I think, "Man, look at his white paws. And his absurdly large ears. It couldn't be...?" After some persuasion I convince him to come over to me and give him some lovins... And confirm the weird little white-lip marks on both this cat and the pictures of the kitten!

He's still pretty tiny and very playful. Except now he has the sort of nervous-crazy thing happening that the other cats that hang out at House of 1,000 Cats have--always moving and swishing his tail (thus the blurriness of some pictures). It's sooo hard not to take him in, but no! I must resist. At least this time he's not a tiny kitten crying outside my door, I suppose. I'm so glad to see he's okay!!

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Travis; Travel; Trillions of cats.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Mon, 06 Aug 2007 23:53:00 -0500

And now it's time for an excellent band: Travis.

The Man Who

I'm much too lazy to bother posting a thoughtful, well-worded description of the band and their style. I'm even too lazy to post a sample song. But I'm not too lazy to tell you I dig this band very much (I'm still trying to get my hands on their album Invisible Band; I could just order it, but again, y'know. I'm lazy), and I'm not too lazy to say that at the moment I'm all about the song "Turn." In place of actual audio uploading, please enjoy this lyrical sampling from the song:

I want to sing, to sing my song
I want to live in a world where I belong
I want to live, I will survive
And I believe that it won't be very long
If we turn, turn, turn, turn turn
We might learn.

Okay, those lyrics do the song no justice. Frankly, I think the band writes some gorgeous melodies. The music is pretty mellow (aside from what I think is their first album, Good Feeling), the band is (according to all-knowing Wikipedia) "Scottish indie-rock," and you should listen to something. The big singles that I know of were "Why Does It Always Rain on Me" and "Sing." I think this "Turn" song was featured on a recent episode of Scrubs. I COULD BE WRONG, AND I'VE WRITTEN TOO MUCH.

The reason I'm listening to music, a strange phenomenon I haven't been doing enough of lately, is that I'm packing for--what else?--a trip to California. Normally, I'm nerdtastically enthusiastic about packing; frankly, it's fun to plan outfits, make lists of things to not forget, and strategically place objects in suitcases so that they fit perfectly (a feat that's never as easy to do when you're repacking your stuff to come home). But tonight... meh. In fact, "meh" seems to mostly describe the past week or so. I'm in some sort of summer funk; I like nothing better than to sleep for 12 hours a day, take care of the requisite 3-5 hours of work four days a week, then spend the remainder of my day on the couch. No bueno, I declare. I usually have to work to keep myself from packing days in advance; tonight, it's been a struggle to bust out the suitcases, 12 hours before my flight leaves.

Hopefully, the trip out to California (and some much needed interaction with other people, including of course the boyfriend) will make this mood lift. I'm looking forward to it, even if I'm too tired/lethargic to realize it.

As for cats. It's been rather freaky, actually, but I'll try and make this story short (I'm pretty sure it interests no one but me). The Saturday before last, I had a Most Adorable Kitten show up at my door. Anyone who knows me knows that what I want more than anything is a kitty, so I found this pretty weird; here's this cute and very affectionate cat. I know I can't have a cat, though, so eventually I went inside and left him outside (where he cried). The next morning, he was still hanging around; I left to sing, and he was still there two hours later when I returned. Eventually he left for good, and I spent the week regretting my lack of balls--why didn't I just take him in?

Exactly one week later, as I walk out to my car, a black cat sees me and runs up to me. A second black cat runs up to me from the other side of the parking lot. A third runs up to me from behind me, a small gray kitten in tow. ...Double-you tee eff, I ask. They hang out for awhile; I go inside. I peek back outside a while later, and they have literally left this kitten on my doormat. I remind myself that I CANNOT HAVE A CAT, and go back inside. The next morning, I'm woken up by a kitten crying; it's the same gray kitten, this time outside my apartment's back window.

I was terribly amused when I stumbled across the following children's book at work, which repeated the lines, "Hundreds of cats; Thousands of cats; Millions and billions and trillions of cats." It felt very like my own story. (Except the cats around me didn't end up eating each other, as in the slightly disturbing book.)

Millions of Cats (Gift Edition) (Picture Puffin Books)

Hypothesis: The Universe wants me to have a kitten, and apparently will deliver me one once a week. Since I'm going out of town for three weeks, I put my mail on hold; I can only imagine that when I return, three kittens will promptly be delivered to my door.

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Wish I was an English muffin...

Torture.

Travis; Travel; Trillions of cats.