Fluff kitteh

a red velvet cake I made for a friend's bday

I don't even know.

Someone feels left out

See, I kept my promise.

More kittehs!

Living in my obdulla oblongata is better than reality.

I decided today that my closet needed a ferocious cleaning and organising. I know that the roaches have been co-habitating there, and since their favorite kitchen spots were no more, my closet provided the ultimate in nesting.

Upon entering, I was greeted by a delightful momma roach. She welcomed me in to the squalor, hung my hat and offered me a cup of joe. I delined. Should probably have been a tad nicer, but I had items to tend to. She prattled on and on about how many times she has moved in the past few hours because no where is safe anymore. I took a step in and noticed the sack of puppies on her back. Her children needed to be able to play and be kids with out worrying. I told her all would be taken care of. Her pinpoint eyes and antennae twitched with curiousity and delight. So many questions she had for me. Ignoring her rampant inquisitions, my hands made good of the distraction and grabbed what could be the solution for mama roaches everywhere.

Drawing each breath lightly, I delivered on my promise. Her tiny antennaes curled as her legs buckled underneath her flightless body. Her wing softened the fall as her last words were heard.

"Lemons were always my favorite."

After we go to Intelligentsia, let's rob a bank.

Went to Intelligentsia the other day, and ordered what I thought to be a a normal, delicious espresso. It came with a glass of sparking water, which was an excellent addition.

Beautiful crema, perfect taste. Just what I expected.

What I didn't expect, a couple hours later was the intense surge of anxiety, nausea, and adrenalin that appeared at my doorstep. A friend of mine and I were perusing some shops that were in the area, and I just couldn't handle it. And not because I was in Silver lake. We went to Flore, a vegan place that served a marvelous BLT constructed of tempeh, avocado, and the rest of the fixings. I was hoping it would ale me of the horrible over-caffination, but I still felt a little off.

I was expected at a house warming, and I could not muster any control over my bowels. I came close to releasing a present to my panties if there wasn't a restroom near by. Luckily, by the sheer will of my sphincter, it held on til it wasn't required to any further. Poor bastards in line behind me though.

I think I flushed it enough times to evacuate the stench. Let's hope anyways.

eek.

AAhhhhhhhhhHHHHH!!!!!!

The roaches are throwing a coup d'etat!!!

I just killed 8, one inch beasts!!

One even had a sack of puppies on her back!!

EEEEeeeek!!!

Me.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?""Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.""Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit."Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.""Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?""It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." - Margery Williams, THE VELVETEEN RABBIT

Daily affirmations...selected quotes by Pema Chodron

We habitually erect a barrier called blame that keeps us from communicating genuinely with others, and we fortify it with our concepts of who's right and who's wrong. We do that with the people who are closest to us and we do it with political systems, with all kinds of things that we don't like about our associates or our society. It is a very common, ancient, well-perfected device for trying to feel better. Blame others. Blaming is a way to protect your heart, trying to protect what is soft and open and tender in yourself. Rather than own that pain, we scramble to find some comfortable ground

A further sign of health is that we don't become undone by fear and trembling, but we take it as a message that it's time to stop struggling and look directly at what's threatening us

If you follow your heart, you're going to find that it is often extremely inconvenient.

When we start out on a spiritual path we often have ideals we think we’re supposed to live up to. We feel we’re supposed to be better than we are in some way. But with this practice you take yourself completely as you are. Then ironically, taking in pain – breathing it in for yourself and all others in the same boat as you are – heightens your awareness of exactly where you’re stuck.

If we learn to open our hearts, anyone, including the people who drive us crazy, can be our teacher

Work follies

San Diego

Rad Jose is sleepy

this may induce vomit

I have a roach problem. Ever since I moved in to 12745, I have had these lovely insects all over my house. Luckily, I came up with a plan that is working...slowly, but working.

Maurice is at it again.

...comes in and thinks he owns the place.

Mom feeding the orphans

Day in the life of Chevy

Minnie needs her space

My once and always obsession

Diane Arbus.




I adore her work, so I thought I would do a short post in tribute.

My friend Emilie and I adore her, we caught her exhibit at the Walker back in 2006, I believe.

finicky felines make for good side dishes

My sweet, dear mother runs a foster care for kittens and mama cats that are about to give birth. She does it for a no-kill organization in Minnesota called "Last Hope", and she has basically re-organized her life to care for the orphan kittehs.

When I go home, I sort of (read: REALLY, REALLY, EXCITED!!!!) get pumped to sleep over at mom's house because I wake up swathed in felines. It's really the best ever.

Anyways, I am thinking of posting all of the kitty pics my mom sends me via picture messages. They border on arcane, but I really appreciate being sent pictures of little Felis domesticuses.

And, whatever they find in their live trap. (skunks, raccoons, stray troubled cats)