Archive for March, 2009

Kitties!

This is Boomer.

This is Tigra.

Tigra didn’t want to play nice for the camera. All Tigra wanted to do was play with the camera strap! But you can see she has adorable orange eyes.

Boomer is a total snuggle whore. Tigra is affectionate, but not so violently as Boomer. However, at night, Tigra wants to sleep on my head, shoulders, neck, or, in the middle of the night, ON my face, so that I wake up spluttering cat fur out and trying to breathe. With my chin being luxuriously kneaded by three pounds of purring kitten. Boomer just sits on humans, like a reasonable cat.

I love having cats around again. They’re a lot of work (the dreaded litter tray emptying awaits me, even now), but they’re wonderful little critters.

2009
03/31
CATEGORY
cat!
3 comments

Kitties!!!

We went on a visit to the SPCA yesterday. The intent was to bring an adult or two home; what we ended up with were two bundles of adorable four-month-old cute.

We asked for a pair that hopefully wouldn’t kill each other. We were introduced to a wee boy and girl – the boy was instantly ALL OVER Tobermory, purring loud enough to cause echoes in the meet’n'greet room. The little girl, however, did NOT want to know us. At All.

Pretty as she was, we asked the SPCA person to return her to her nest, and find another lass. Colitis had come in with us, so we handed him the boy – who appears to mostly be a fusswhore and willing to love on anyone that will pat him for half an hour – while we tried to make friends with the girl. She was a bit nervy, which is fairly normal, but eventually came around and started to purr.

We took them home. They’re toilet trained, which is the bit I really hate doing with little kittens, and they’re adorable.

They’re set up in our bedroom, with the ensuite as KittyFood and KittyToilet. (The litter tray is set up in the shower base. They’ve both demonstrated the ability to use it. I hate poopscooping..) They both slept on the bed with us last night. They’re both purry affectionate little things, having the occasional small “rar!” sessions at each other, but that will pass. It’s already gotten better since we got them home.

The boy is named Boomer, the girl Tegra.

Boomer is affectionate, friendly, into everything, and a total hog of the food. Tegra is a bit quieter – spent the first hour or so under the bed, until she suddenly decided that I was Human #1 and came out to absolutely maul my head with love (I was lying on the floor trying to coax her out). She hasn’t eaten much yet, I’m not sure if that’s nerves, or if she’s scared of trying to share with Boomer. We’ll get around that one somehow.

And if I could get them to sit still long enough to bring the camera into play, I would have pictures…

2009
03/30
CATEGORY
cat!
2 comments

Occurrences

While driving Pstyken home on Sunday, the car decided to develop a nasty whiiine. The whiiine developed into a hooowl, and then a graunch when trying to turn corners. I decided that this was likely an issue with the power steering, informed Tobermory of same, and we arranged to take it back to the garage from whence it came*. After all, it’s only lived with us for a month…

I drove it in Tuesday morning (which was the soonest they could book it). I deliberately pulled in tightly, so that the maximum of horrible noises** could be arranged, and did the same while parking it. By the time I got out of the car, two salesmen and two managers had come haring over to find out what on earth was going on.

I politely explained that I was the young lady with the Ford with power steering troubles, and everything was yes ma’am, no ma’am, here is a Mazda 6 as a courtesy car ma’am. I had three of them arranging things – one chap finding insurance papers, one getting keys, general running about in my service. There was also the youngest salesman, who, on driving the car down to the service department, ran back up going “Man, what the HELL did you DO TO IT?” He was awarded death glares from his manager, and told in no uncertain terms to go fetch the Mazda for me. I was highly amused.

(Warranties are a lovely thing. It turns out the power steering pump had completely failed. )

Both Tobermory and I are still losing weight. Neither of us can entirely work out why, as we’re not trying very hard – maybe we’re eating better? Exercising more, having to run up and down the stairs at home? Sleeping sounder? Tapeworm? Anyway, this culminated in my need to buy a new pair of jeans, as my existing pair are a) two years old b) getting that dangerous white tinge at the seams and thin at the butt c) falling off. Owing to the weight loss, I have no idea what size my butt currently is. So, I took four pairs of jeans into the fitting rooms, and a very helpful young saleslady followed me. Knowing this is a fairly slim-cut line, I optimistically tried on the size of pants I usually buy at old-lady stores.

Her: “How do those look?”
Me: “Weird. I think they’re too tight.”
Her: *opens door, investigates* “Actually, they’re a size too large. Here, try the…”
Me: “Uh, how do I put this. I am fat. There is no way I’ll fit those.”
Her: “You know how they say the customer is always right? Well, sometimes they’re actually wrong, and please, try these on.”
Me: *mutter grumble, shut door, change pants*
Me: *stare in mirror*
Her: *open door, grin* “See? Told you so!”

I bought the smaller size. They were $30 more than I intended to pay for a pair of jeans, but they’re a skinny bitch line that I haven’t been able to fit into since before I moved to Auckland. I’m feeling rather pleased with myself, in fact.

* Second hand car purchased from a dealership. We were hoping for good things, but this was the third trip back in a month!
** I was getting a lot of looks from passers-by on my way in. Apparently the nasty noises were worse from the outside of the car.

2009
03/27
CATEGORY
car
girl
life
1 comment

Matchings and maybe someday hatchings

It’s been a weird week. Tobermory’s parents got to the airport and then home to the UK safely, which is good. He and I have been wandering around vaguely putting the house to rights. I have about a billion loads of laundry to do, so of course it’s been pissing down with rain.

Both of the in-laws cried as they left. I’m glad they’ve enjoyed their stay, and… well, I feel guilty on occasion that I’m the reason Tobermory is over here, thousands of miles away from his family and his old friends. Seeing how upset they all were at the airport… I love Tobermory. And he’s happy here, more or less, but I know he hasn’t really had the chance to make friends that weren’t originally mine, and finding work up until he became resident was an absolute bitch. He and I are happy together, but I do sometimes wonder, with that little hateful voice from the hindbrain, if … friends, family, all the life he had there – might not be too high a price to pay for us. He’ll miss his family. Probably his father, moreso than his mother; despite, or perhaps because, they don’t always get on terribly well.

It’s not just his parents, I’m feeling a bit weird generally.

About a hundred women at work are pregnant, I swear I can’t walk through the building without seeing yet another belly walk round corners before the body carrying it. I have, in the last year or two, discovered that I have a biological clock. And it’s frankly extremely disconcerting to have your ovaries grab your brain by the stem and shake it violently going “OI, YOU. REPRODUCE, PLEASE.” While I do (eventually?) want kids with Tobermory, I am sufficiently old-fashioned enough to want to share a surname first.

When I returned to work from my “meeting the inlaws” holiday, I discovered that my female colleague had finally talked her boyfriend into proposing; they’re getting married in April, while they’re on the trip to India so he can meet her parents. And another friend has also announced her engagement. I am sufficiently childish to carry a strain of “Wah, I got engaged first!! why are you getting married first???” (Not that I’m not pleased for them, I am! But the hindbrain is stupid and childish at times, as well as hateful.)

The whole topic of weddings is such a minefield that I am highly tempted to elope* simply to escape drama. I know, as a fact, that Tobermory’s dad and my Mum in the same room would be cause for large scale drama, and … I just don’t want to go there. It’s not purely a selfish desire to escape, either, I don’t want to expose my mother to that if I can avoid it. And, well, Mum’s been dropping hints that she wouldn’t mind me eloping for as long as Tobermory and I have been living together, so I doubt she’d mind overmuch.

The answer seems to be a registrar’s office, then a party in each country**, but, well, I’m girly enough to kind of want the pretty dress and some nice photos for memorabilia purposes.

Whatever we do, the ‘typical’ shindig is right out. Amongst other things, my extended family would refuse to attend my wedding; in my own country, within travelling distance of all of them, and I’d rather not be reminded of that fact. And, frankly, I don’t have a terribly large number of friends, and it just seems stupid to put on a show for all of two dozen people. I suspect that my family would attend a celebration of some sort if we were already married, and celebrating that fact. The distinction is small, but it’s there. I miss my family. I’d like them to meet Tobes, I suspect he’d like my maternal uncle in particular.

Any time I think it over, I run up against eloping as the fairest option, not to mention the cheapest and easiest. I have yet to convince Tobermory of this. Yes, people on both sides of the family and in both countries will piss and moan, or be upset they missed out – and I genuinely like Tobermory’s mum, and don’t want to hurt her – but eloping leaves everyone modestly unhappy, Tobermory and I as happy as possible under the circumstances, and nobody actively offended.

And hey, any excuse for a party, right?

* I suspect I may have inadvertently communicated this desire to Tobermory’s mum – she is far too lovely and easy to talk to – and one of her parting instructions at the airport was that I’m allowed to be as sneaky and low-key about getting hitched as I like, but don’t DARE to get married without inviting her.
** This would also have the advantage of Tobermory’s mum being able to have an Event, which I suspect she would appreciate.

2009
03/14
CATEGORY
depression
family
home
love
2 comments

And counting down…

The inlaws* leave in a week. I’m pleased to have met them, pleased that I get along with them (especially Tobermory’s mum, she’s absolutely lovely). But also pleased, in a probably selfish fashion, that they’re going home. Eight weeks is quite a long time to have relative strangers in the home, especially when working and just trying to live normally.

The weather has also started packing up. It’s gradually heading into hurricane season, and we’re starting to get the bad storms marching through. So it’s probably good that they’re going home, before the rain really comes in.

It turns out that the house has no leaking issues, which is always good to know. The front door lets some water in when it’s raining sideways, but you do kind of expect that with a door that isn’t particularly weather or water proofed. Tobermory wants to replace it, and that doesn’t seem like a terrible idea.

The garage doors rattle in the wind. This is only really irritating if you’re one of the guests sleeping downstairs, such as the inlaws, who have been stuffing newspaper in the hinges at night to deal with the incessant doing…. doing….

I’ve also discovered that my newly-adopted shortish haircut is going to prove problematic throughout the winter. It tends to be windy, and walking into work this morning I resembled Cousin It after a run-in with a lawnmower. I’m going to have to buy a hat**. My beloved laughed immoderately at me about this.

It’s been pleasant having visitors, but I will also be pleased to return to the pleasant humdrum of our own life.

Also, when Tobermory’s dad is home, i can get kitties.

*Yes, I know we’re not actually married yet, thus they’re not actually the inlaws, but what else could I call them?
** I also found a winter coat in a second-hand shop. It was actually for a costume party (which admittedly isn’t till May), it cost me $15 and it’s a glorious red knee-length coat.

2009
03/05
CATEGORY
family
girl
home
life
1 comment