February 9th, 2010

c is for cat

A New Furry Overlord

Hello to an astonishing amount of new people! I have no idea where I got linked, but my inbox was flooded with new adds this morning, so--hi there! Leave a comment, introduce yourself!

I assume that most of the traffic is due to the recent gender posts. Well! I don't always post about such weighty issues.

Sometimes I post pictures of BRAND NEW KITTENS.

See, if you were to go back to that post I made about the things I wanted in life, you would find:

12. Own a Maine Coon

And what's this? I BELIEVE IT IS WIN CONDITION.



Yesterday, a rather large furry bundle arrived from the kitten-stork (who goes by the name stealthcello ). Her name is October Saint Hedgehog Valente-Zagidulin, she is four months old and almost as big as our 9 year old cat, and we will call her October, and Toby, and Toblerone, and Octacular Octacular, and Doc Ock, and Ber-Ber, just to name the ones that came tumbling out of my mouth on the ride home last night. She is literally the most awesome and beautiful kitten ever. In one night she:

Let me rub her belly for two hours
Played with my fingers and hair without ever once getting out her claws, keeping her paws perfectly soft
Licked my hands thoroughly
Discovered yarn
Pounced on everything
Put her paws on my face and fixed me with a Deep Cat Stare
Solved the problem of getting up onto the very high bed (nightstand, desk, then bed)
Came to her new name
Learned the Russian "come here, kitty" sound we use
Emerged immediately whenever I entered the room
Used the mousepad to make the exciting shiny computer wake up and entertain her (two very firm taps of the paw)
Curled up on my stomach in the middle of the night to sleep
Evinced fascination with typing
Evinced adoration for my black boots and leopard slippers

And then I woke up with a kitten under my chin. You must understand I find this miraculous. Our other cat doesn't like anyone really, and would rather be stabbed than spend time with me most days. A kitten who cries to be held? I am doomed. And can use the computer? Oh my god, she is going to take over the world. And possibly the love affair with my computer is because she wants to be on it.

Mama...is that...the internet? Is it Caturday?

Yes, my child. Yes, it is.

So to celebrate October's coming home, and to bow to her desire for internet fame, I'm going to hold a macro contest for her! Be the first to immortalize my cat's interior monologue! For she IS Princess Fluffy Pants, and she steals hearts. Beneath the cut are many adorable pictures--have at ye! I'll post the winners and good times will be had.

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c is for cat

Hearts

Re-posting this because people were asking me if I had one and I did but posted it a few days back.

Valentine's Day rules. Anything Chaucer invented rules. Would that make Valentine's Day like...a windmillpunk holiday?


My Valentinr - cmvalente
Get your own valentinr
illumination

Jacob is My Master Now

If I had my way, Jacob from Television Without Pity would win the Pulitzer for his recaps and I'm not even kidding. He makes it into an art form I can't begin to classify.

He nails a Thing in one of his Gossip Girl recaps--which is the only reason I started watching the show, because he recaps it, and my life always needs Jacob in it to tell me what it's Really About and I wish he could just do all the shows, because other recaps are small and sad and unambitious in comparison to his giant barrel of awesome. (When I fangirl, I don't fuck around, y'all. I really think my answer to who would you have lunch with out of anyone in the world would be this guy.)

And I'm not even going to get into a whole "what is a real writer" thing, because like I know anything, but it's like Chuck later, where he can't manage to say aloud that he loves Blair: the only people who do that are guilty of asshead disease and terminal drama. Writing is opening up a crack just wide enough to let some light into you, and some you onto the page, so that the next person feels less alone. And if this is the thing that frightens you -- like Chuck and like Blair, under her garments -- then you have chosen precisely the wrong job, because that's the entire requirement: being honest, for a living, for the rest of your life.


And you know, given the story I'm working on right now, I needed to read that today.
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