Sunday, 22 September 2013

Holy Hannah... busy much?


Okay... so I haven't written much. Will this be rectified? I don't know. :p

So, life as I know it has been pretty sweet so far. Me, my husband, and our adorable baby girl (who may or may not someday grace this... kinda cobwebby blog with her chubby little chipmunk-cheek presence) moved into this apartment in this amazing little apartment complex at the end of August. I really hated it at first, I felt kind of insecure with our location and had a nightmare the first night we spent here but as time went on, I saw how kid-friendly and awesome this place actually is. We're renting, and the place has downsides, for sure but they're not huge and we don't mind them too much. We've come a long way...

When my husband and I got married in 2012 we had next to nothing. We had a desk, two computers, assorted knicknacks and collectibles... I had an okay job at a supermarket and he was in the country on a Visitor's Visa and trying to get his Permanent Residence. He'd left all of his belongings in storage in the US to come here, we had a small room in my brother's apartment, a single mattress on the floor and a pile of big cushions that we threw a sheet over to give us a double bed. Our very first purchase was a bed, because the floor sucked. :p Once baby was born, we shared a townhouse with friends. Now, we both have decent jobs and a nice, quiet, and fully furnished apartment to come home to at the end of the day. It's nice.

I spend a lot of time in Dollarama now, because we live close to one and I frigging love knickknacks and kitchen gadgets of all sorts. I have to control myself when I go in or else I'll come home with a bunch of stuff I might never use... recently I decided to take up scrapbooking, I wanted to scrapbook my daughter's first year, so yeah. I now have a bunch of paper letters, cute little cutouts, a scrapbook and stuff and NO IDEA how to put it all together. :p I'm sure I'll figure it out.


One of the more interesting things I've found at the Dollarama is a scarf knitting kit, which gives you 3 yarn balls, knitting needles and tells you to "Let your DIY spirit free" for the low, low price of 2.50. I (someone who has been wanting to learn how to knit for forever now) bit.

I bit, only to discover that it includes everything but proper instructions for a beginner. This is what we have written on the back of the paper insert:

Aaaand that's it.

That's it, that's all. Well, except for the same in French, because this is Canada... but yes. What the fudge.

... I have no idea what this means.

... I think it's saying "Loop the thread 20 times around your needle in a manner that facilitates knitting, knit until you can't knit anymore and then tie it all off." Even then, those are some pretty crappy instructions. They might as well have just printed the words "Google it". People who know how to knit aren't going to need a kit, they'll have their own supplies. Noobs like me, we will buy the kits. And then... then we will take to our blogs and whine about the lack of instructions!

At the very least, this will force me to get off of my duff and do some reading up/video watching on how to knit. So thank you, Dollarama. Thank you for half-assing it, so that I may complete assing.

Sunday, 2 September 2012

My Cat: Larger Than Life

UPDATE: My cat, the great Slayer of Beasts, was taken down by Kitty Cancer in March of 2013. She was a mighty 15 years old. Lights went out all over the city that night (I'm pretty sure), and a hundred mice screamed and keeled over suddenly. At some point in history.

RIP sweetie, you were like a sister to me. A weird, hairy, four-legged sister who licked her own butt and pooped in a box.

That's right. I appropriated the title of a Backstreet Boys song. For my cat.

The boss.

This was something that started out as a "pet of the week" submission on facebook for the furry one we call "Kitty" (even though her name is Kato... we call her Kitty). But once I started, I just kept going... the language I was using to describe her got more and more grandiose, and eventually, she became.... EPIC.

Kitty is the Chuck Norris of cats.

Kato is 14 years old, and if she were writing this, she would make certain to inform you that she is nothing short of a legend in her own time.

As a kitten, she was an irresistible bundle of fur, and I daresay she knew it. I adopted her from the shelter when she was 8 weeks old, and I've been regretting it ever since. A popular running joke of my mother's when I was a teenager was "That cat is just like you- she doesn't listen, either!"

Through the years, she has amused, upset, exasperated and entertained everyone in my family, and we wouldn't have had it any other way. As a kitten, she was a holy terror sometimes; it was her way or the highway! And who could resist, when she was so adorable? She ruled the roost. She would often jump up onto the back of my leg and climb me like a cat tree, all the way to my shoulder. She enjoyed talking incessantly and loved her tinfoil balls, pieces of string, pens and paper tubes, but showed a decided disregard for any toys that we might have actually paid for.

In the years beyond kittenhood, she developed a unique set of manners. She became timid and afraid of loud noises (possibly due to being raised with us rambunctious human children), but was still very spoiled and attended to. She was like a small, furry sibling to us; we loved her and learned to communicate with her. We developed the habit of talking to her like she was a person. She learned to respond with miaows, hisses, eye squeezes, tail flicks and cocked ears. We learned to interpret these signs as talking.

She was two years old when her legend began; she met her nemesis, in the form of a two-month-old German Shepherd cross. She often watched (and plotted) from a kitchen chair as the (then) similar-sized Furry Hoover Vacuum of Doom checked and rechecked the kitchen floor for dropped tidbits. It was during this time that she showed her great cunning and became a great "slayer" of dogs... she could get away with teasing the dog (truthfully, she was in and out like a ninja. I thought she was made of lightning, we couldn't stop her), but we would often stop the dog from chasing her. In time, she completely dominated a full grown adult German Shepherd cross, and duped us into helping her do it. Her favorite move was to run up, swipe at the offending canine with a paw (or jump off of a piece of furniture onto the dog's back) and then take off running down the hallway at full speed, tail held high. Despite her obvious cheekiness, the dog loved her and was always gentle with her during their supervised play times.

She carried her legend to the more mundane tasks of life as well. When it came to human training, she was second to none. Always strict but loving, whenever her bowl was empty she stood in front of it and yowled at me, coming to rub herself against my legs in polite request. But if this failed to get the desired results in good time, she would hiss- very short, very polite without a hint of aggression, but a hiss nonetheless. I interpreted it as a polite reprimand as well as a demand that this unacceptable situation be rectified immediately. She was also often kind enough to inform me when I was a bit late in cleaning her litter box by doing her business right in front of it.

The summers of her youth were nothing short of idyllic. I remember her, sitting idly in front of (or yes, sometimes hanging from) the screen door at my parent's house watching birds, enjoying an evening sunbeam, or catching the odd fly. When we had a moth or two in the house, she wouldn't rest until she had my attention so I could lift her up to the hallway light and help her catch the fluttery invaders.

Kato is old now, and she is no longer made of lightning. She sleeps more than she used to, she no longer begs to be lifted to the hallway light to catch any moths that might wander in, her evening sprints up and down the hallway (that used to last for so long that they drove my mom nuts) have changed to an occasional short dash and she hasn't run up my back since she became too heavy to do so. She enjoys simple pleasures, most of which are a part of her evening routine: playing with her catnip duck, getting pets, sitting in boxes, laying down in sunbeams, hiding under the blankets in my bed, watching the world go by from the balcony window (minus the hanging off of), and being brushed (ESPECIALLY being brushed!). But the heart of a lion still lurks within… she still bravely defends the household from the Invading Red Dot of Light whenever the opportunity presents itself. 

And thusly, a legend was born.

You ever think...

"Hey, that might be interesting. I'd write a blog post about that. I can just tag it 'personal' or 'not bento' instead of 'bento' !"

I have this thought often. And I did start writing a post with that intention... my "New Supplies and a Bento" post on my Bento blog started out as such, but for some reason I changed my mind. It morphed into an on-topic post, and the personal bit just seemed a bit superfluous to me.

Eventually the thought to start a personal blog came about and I wondered to myself, "Am I going to have enough material to justify starting a blog just for my inane ramblings?" You see, generally, I'm a person of few words. Unless you get to know me (which takes awhile) or get me drunk, then you can't shut me up. But in general, I'm not the overly talkative type. Especially about myself. But as the days went by, and I kept having these "Hey, I should blog that" thoughts, it became apparent to me that my inner blogger was crying out for a personal blog. Or something. So, yeah! here it be, all shiny and new.

As the title states, my posts will probably be really, really geeky. or they could be about music, or an awesome place my husband and I visited, or... anything, really.

I think the title is more of a warning than anything. "CAUTION: may contain geek". Am I a geek? Am I a nerd? I'm not sure. I have geeky interests, but I'm not obsessed with them. I don't know every Transformer, I've read only some of the Transformer comics, I've read some of The Walking Dead comics but not all of them, and I can't watch the TV show if it's dark outside or just before bed, because I'm a big wiener. I'm not an expert in anything, but I've dabbled in a lot of things.

I'm 5'8, chubby, married, Native (or "American Indian" to my American friends... and everybody else?), works at a grocery store. Nothing overly unusual. I don't stand out, really. The Transformers messenger bag might be kind of interesting, I don't know. I'm sure I fool a lot of people into thinking I'm not really strange... until they get to know me.

"Oh hey, nice to meet you. You seem norrrm... Bye!"


And that's the scary part... are they going to accept that I have 2 storage bins full of Transformer toys just waiting for shelf space? Will my love of games other than party games set me apart? Can they understand my love for the beady-eyed browness that is Domo Kun? Is my bento lunch, watching of Gundam and aforementioned lurve for teh Domo going to label me as someone who "wants to be Japanese" (I don't) or an "otaku" (I'm not)? Or am I going to be branded as childish, or weird? Because, honestly, I could probably agree with both of those. But not if it's meant as derogatory.

Do I care? In a way, yes. It's nice to meet people who have the same interests as you, but sometimes, the people you tend to meet aren't just interested, they're borderline obsessed with their object of interest to some degree. Not that that's bad, I just can't really relate anymore. Or you don't like them for some reason, or they have a main area of interest in something you don't, or (typically in my case) just aren't interested in getting to know you. For in addition to not really standing out, I'm also fairly socially awkward. I don't make friends easily. It's partially my upbringing, and partially just me being unusual or curmudgeonly at the worst times.

Don't get me wrong; This isn't a "oh, poor me" post. I don't feel sorry for myself to any degree and I don't want anyone else to. It's just something I puzzle over sometimes.

Where mah peeps at? Probably... also wondering where their peeps are at. Ha!

Thank goodness for my husband, f'real. We're two peas in a weird little pod. The Gundam thing is completely his fault.

Thank you, my love, for making me even weirder. <3 :p

... Other'n that, I got nothing. Peace out till next time, Multicoloured marshmallowy goodnesses in a shape suggestive of baby chickens!