Exploits of a City Dweller

Finally! After patiently waiting for him to go through his usual shenanigans, I managed to take a picture of Chimney as he was about to fall asleep.

He may seem like he’s dying in the photo. He’s not. This is the rare lull before the full-fledged hurricane that usually ensues after the Energizer batteries are recharged by a short nap.

Because of this, I am seriously rethinking ever having any kids of my own. I don’t think my nerves were built to withstand the ruckus.

How’s this for a personal ad: Single, half-white, somewhat morose-looking female in her mid-twenties. Lives alone (most of the time anyway) in a two bedroom apartment…with a cat. Enticing eh?

Yes, you read it right. I, through no fault of my own, am the reluctant new ”human” of a three month old Siamese kitten who seems to have been force-fed a bagfull of 9 volt Energizer batteries by his previous owners. The fuzzball just won’t stop running all over the place. And if he’s not busy chasing imaginary bugs around the living room, he bites my big toe.

Thanks to him, the entire dynamic of my daily routine has been twisted into who-knows-what. For one, going in and out of the front door has turned into a covert operation that requires both cunning and speed. My kitchen reeks of kitty litter stench. Plus I have to keep an eye out lest he bites into the electrical wiring and fries himself into a crisp.

And what be the little fuzzball’s name you ask? The truth is, we don’t know. When I first got the text message informing me of this great life changing event, I thought I’d name him Midnight. Then I saw him and realized he was too riotous to be given such an earnest sounding name. Then we thought we’d name him Bangs after the kitten I had growing up. But then again Bangs “the First” got run over by a truck. Too portentous. For a few days we called him Scraps. That is until the Post-it Queen vetoed it. Apparently there exists an unspoken rule that pets should have names ending in “Y” as it makes it easier to prolong the last syllable when you’re losing your patience. Makes sense.

So for now his name is Chimney. Because his extremities are considerably darker than the rest of his body, he looks like he just finished cleaning one. Or the bottom of a pot, depending on what part of the world you’re in. 

I have a feeling it might change still. I’m not too worried. It’s not like he responds to any of these appellations anyhow. Still we need something decent to label him with or we shall have to resort to calling him some inane epithet like “Mimeow”. I’m open to suggestions.

In the meantime, I’m off to scoop up the poop. Fun.

How strange. I was watching CNN Wednesday morning fully expecting the count to stretch on for at least a couple of days. I turned my back for a few seconds and suddenly they have a President Elect.

Man, that was fast!

Then again, that’s what full automation can do. Looks like the Yanks have gone quite a few steps from “Macapagal-Arroyo! Kahon!”. Also, McCain doesn’t seem to be as devious as Bush was when he fleeced Al Gore back in 2000  (I’m sorry. I know it’s ancient history but I don’t think I ever recovered from when the Florida recount was stopped). So there’s really no reason to prolong the agony, at least for the GOP that is.

So no…looks like we will NOT be encountering anything ghoulish and disconcerting. Hopefully not for the next four years.

**Insert sigh of relief here**