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Monthly Archives: September 2010

Caturday: A good investment

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Even before we adopted Sydney, we had made all sorts of pet-related decisions. Some of these stuck and proved to be pretty useful; for example, the unisex name we chose in honor of our honeymoon destination, the Spray Bottle of Justice (which I only need to look at meaningfully in order to get him to stop whatever terrible thing he’s doing), and the Greenies that were crucial in keeping him happy on the way home from the shelter (the slowest GP has ever driven, and likely will ever drive until we’re bringing a baby home for the first time). Others, well, not so much. The scratching post that I believed would be crucial to keeping him from clawing all of our belongings? He could not care any less about it. The super-soft kitty bed? Well…that was pretty unpopular until recently. However, in the mornings when we’re not rushing off to work, he’s been gravitating to it. And this afternoon, as we’re camped out in the living room, shouting at college football?

He’s curled up in his bed, in a quiet corner of the study. I’m pretty sure this is his “leave me the eff alone with the camera, lady” face. Oh well– at least I know that that bed is finally worth it!


In which I let the internet dress me (again)

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So, here’s the deal, y’all: I’ve been in search of a new fall-to-winter coat for this year, with our upcoming trip to London (less than six weeks to go…) in mind. I had originally had a classic trench coat in mind, but I can’t find anything that looks like I don’t want to be called “gumshoe” (hey, remember Carmen San Diego?). It’s not going to be freezing when we’re there, but I trust that it will be chilly enough for me to want to enfold myself in something cozy, and it never gets that cold out here, so I don’t need anything too heavy-duty. Enter Forever 21, home of cheapie coats! The problem was, there were two equally adorable choices…and I came home with both of them, torn over which would be the one to make the transatlantic and fall-to-winter journey with me. As it turns out that I am sometimes incapable of making wardrobe choices for myself, I am turning to the kind strangers (and friends!) on the internets, who are more than willing to tell me what to do!

What’ll it be, folks?

Charcoal with snaps and a zipper closure, hits mid-thigh


Red double-breasted peacoat, hits at the hip

Be still, my heart

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(Yeah, clearly I have A Type: dark and handsome. Those hairless, overmuscled dudes look too much like that weird cat that Rachel on Friends had for two-thirds of an episode.)

(Mad Men 4-eva!!!)

Caturday: On the road

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We’re at Disneyland for the weekend, and it seems that we couldn’t get through the packing process without someone ensuring that our clothes would be just as coated in cat hair on vacation as they are at home.

Oh, hey, I see you're going on a trip. Can I come?

But I fit so perfectly in the bag! See?

Whatever, I'll just stow away. You'll never even notice me and my Crazy Eyes!

The Meet-iversary

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Four years ago today, I met this dude in a restaurant for a first date that would end up lasting eight hours. And I didn’t even kiss him! Good thing he still decided to marry me.

Look what came in the mail today!

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With plenty of time before we head down to Disneyland this weekend, my early-birthday gift showed up on our porch. Because I am a nerd, I decided to do a full OOBE, complete with photographs (and dude, isn’t photographing the unpacking of a camerapurse pretty meta?). You’re welcome!

Caturday: Sydney ventures outdoors

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Our house is on a street (it’s called a “court,” but as it is not a cul de sac, that is an issue of constant mystery to me) that dead-ends into a wall that blocks much of the sound of a major freeway. Given this, and the fact that I am generally paranoid about the safety of our pet, Sydney is not allowed outside. But, oh! How he does dream of the outdoors. He’s not sure what exactly is out there, but he seems pretty convinced that it’s much better than what we’re offering him inside the house. When we’re hanging around the backyard, he can be counted on to be continuously yowling at a window, or at least generally looking wistful in some window or other. See?

Eventually, all the meowing was just too sad for us to deal with; we had to find a non-terrifying (for me) way to let the cat enjoy the outdoors, if only for our collective sanity. The solution, which I’m sure makes us look like crazy people, was a little kitty harness– now he knows that, if he wants to go outside, he has to have some supervision, as well as the harness, with which he has forged a tentative peace. (The first time I put it on him to get him used to it, he alternated between crouching and sprinting at top speed around the house. It was pretty hilarious for us, but probably not as much for him.) In order not to look like The Most Insane Pet Owners Ever, we only ever hang out with our harnessed kitty in the backyard, and he seems grateful for it.

This alert look is basically his permanent expression when he's outside-- there are things to catch out here!

He has managed to wriggle free from the bonds of the harness a couple times, much to my terror, but in general this seems the best way not to keep him completely incarcerated– you know, in a house in which he has free reign and no shortage of toys and other miscellany to play with/destroy. (Turns out cats are crazy. Who knew?)