January 31, 2009
So you can see here that I have applied my awesome multitasking skills to painter’s tape. Why you ask? Why would you feel the need to cover up the indicator lights on your laptop you perfectly normal and in no way psy-fucking-chotic person you?
The answer my friends lies deep in the genetic code of human beings themselves.
See, when I was young; my mother (whom I love dearly and have the utmost amount of respect for) began to reveal her technological shortcomings. In those days, we had a VCR that conveniently displayed the time.
Of course, if you didn’t set the time properly; it would flash 12:00 over and over and over and over. This drove both my mother and father nuts. Little did I know that it was driving me nuts as well. I was too young and innocent to fully grasp the depth of my inherent psychoses.
This problem was solved not by setting the time (because it would invariable get unplugged and have to be reset anyway), but by covering the flashing numbers with a little piece of cardboard or tape. Despite the rather advanced technical skills of both my father and myself, the cardboard or tape remained for years.
During this time my mother became affectionately known as a “12:00 flasher” or “she who is not one with technology”.
With that background knowledge; it should be easy for you to understand why, when my laptop battery shit the bed and the indicator light began to flash, it needed to go away.
Had I not been able to cover up the flashing light I would have driven to my office to get my spare battery. This is how much the flashing light bothers me.
Because I have very sensitive hearing, I have the same level of fuckedupedness when it comes to certain noises including fans (or any other source of that oh so awesome white noise). I cannot stand the sound of metal on metal; rattling anything, squeaking chairs/doors/floors, ticking, electronic whines, rustling fabric, or extremely loud sounds. I do not however; have any aversion to run on sentences.
Look at pictures of my cat!
Odin enjoys the new bathroom a great deal because this is another place in the house where he can get to almost eye level and scream incessantly while I am trying to do the things that one does in the bathroom. He is also much closer to the spot he has deemed as his (my right shoulder) because god forbid the cat the can jump 6 feet in the air from a standstill actually exert any effort to achieve his goal.
For the record, these pictures were taken while fully clothed and not performing any of the things that one typically does in a bathroom. I had come back into the bathroom to tell that towel ring there not to fuck with me. (I will explain in a minute)
Odin’s coloring compliments the bathroom very well don’t you think?
Finally in his preferred resting spot, Odin did take a moment to mug for the camera. Eli, not to be outdone, hopped up on the sink as well. He does not do this in order to facilitate physical contact because that is akin to torture in his odd little kitteh brain.
No, Eli deliberately goes where ever it is that he wants to go. It is not for attention or to convey his need for food. He does it to scrutinize every square inch of every single surface that he encounters, regardless of how many times he has been in the EXACT SAME FREAKING PLACE. (I learned from Dane Cook that yelling makes things funny.)
Later, we all had a nice cuddle on the couch. This is Eli’s version of cuddling.
I think that both Odin and Eli miss Hercules a great deal. Odin had been exceptionally cuddly for a few weeks prior to Herc’s passing and continues to be so. He’s always been an affectionate cat, but has increased his need for comfort tenfold.
Not that I mind one single iota mind you. It is a great comfort to me as well.
I love that he meows plaintively as he walks toward me when he wants to cuddle. If I am not in a position for him to lie down on me, he will simply pop up on the nearest counter and meow. Much like a baby’s cries, his meows are quite distinctive and it is fairly easy to tell if he wants turkey or cuddles.
He is such a vocal cat, which at times is a humongous pain in the ass, but most of the time I am in awe of his ability to communicate his thoughts/needs through vocalizations.
Perhaps it was Luke’s cries and the process by which I learned what each one meant that enables me to understand what Odin is saying by the differences in tone, pitch and other attributes of his meows.
Eli is very vocal as well and over the past year or so has developed an impressive array of tonalities. He tends to be very loud, regardless of what he is communicating. His meows tend to be very low, almost a yowl but not as urgent or heated. The depth of his tone is so incredibly low most times that I swear I can feel the floor rumbling beneath him.
I do love these kitties. I love them with the same ferocity that I love my son and there is very little that I would not do for them. Our lives have been jolted by the loss of Hercules but we cannot honor his memory by sitting in misery. For him we press on, remembering he good times.
I suppose that I should turn in now. It is almost 3:30 in the morning and I am sleepy. I think that I will give Doug a call and see how the other kittehs in my life are doing tonight 
Aren’t they swell
Mutegi (Mo, Mo Knows, MoMo)
Gamba (Gam, Gummy Bear, Gamba Goons)
In my review of my post after publishing (I always do this because I am never 100% satisfied with it once it’s published) I realized that I forgot to explain the whole “telling the towel ring to fuck off” thing.
The people who lived in this house before me chose (I believe because they were fucking morons) not to use the proper wall anchors for drywall so that every item on the bathroom wall not screwed into a stud flopped around like Hugh Hefner’s penis before his daily Viagra.
For some reason (likely related to the reasoning stated for the previous owners), this was the one things that I did not replace the wall anchors for when I re-hung the accessories. Today was the day that I could no longer stand the wobbly towel ring when I dried my hands on the towel.
I replaced the wall anchors and screwed that towel holder in nice and snug and then arrogantly told the towel holder not to fuck with me.
Shut up, I am already on medication.