Gang of Two Category

Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010

Kitty!

I got a kitten.

Okay, so the Gang of Two is now a Gang of One. Mingo has run off. I still hope he returns, but it’s been three bleak months of Mingolessness. Fanty is lonely. I’m lonely. Arthur has moved in with his dad, and a single woman with just one cat, who happens to be an annoying and no-fun cat, is just not working for me.

So on Saturday Fanty had her annual checkup, and there was a big crate o’ kittens. Six in total, four of whom were solid black. Solid black=very appealing to Witches, but I finally got smart and chose based on personality rather than looks. My little one-eye is funny looking but the only calm, sweet, social one in the bunch, the only one who wanted to cuddle. As Roberta said, “In a crate of kittens, the one-eyed kitten is king.”


Continue reading Kitty!

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Thursday, July 2nd, 2009

Why, even though I am utterly single, my bedroom is complicated

The short answer: Cats.

The long answer:

The first time Fanty peed on my bed, she was angry because I’d tried to give her a pill. But then there was a second incident, that seemed to be no more than her thinking it was a good idea. And you know what? Getting into bed late at night, after a bad day, and discovering the bed is wet makes me cry like a baby. So Fanty was banned from the bedroom.

This is complicated, because I didn’t particularly want to ban Mingo from the bedroom. He is a cuddly cat, I love sleeping with him, and he goes through phases where he Must! be in the Lap! But he also can’t stand a closed door. So he cries to come in, I let him in, close the door behind him, he cries to get out. Hours of my life were spent opening and closing that motherfucking door.

Now remember, he just does this crying at the door thing, all the damn time. So sometimes I don’t get up. Especially if I’m asleep. If I’m asleep, I yell at him. Which isn’t restful but hey.

So early one morning, he was in the bedroom, and he was trying to get me up, as usual, and crying, as usual, and I ignore him, as usual, and he has a little accident in the corner.

Mingo is not Fanty. He has the decency to be ashamed about his misbehavior. Nonetheless, tinkle in the corner and Deborah ain’t happy. Also, these creatures from hell, they habituate to a spot, so now I’m worried that he’ll pee in that corner even when it’s not an emergency. So now both cats are banned from the bedroom and the door is always shut.

Which was fine for a few weeks. Despite the interruptions, I really missed sleeping with Mingo; he snuggles right underneath my arm, headbutting/nuzzling until he finds a cozy spot. It’s lovely. Hey, I’m a single girl, I need someone to hug.

Anyway, a couple of nights ago, Mingo suddenly started begging to be let in again, so, soft of heart, I let him in. And it is, truly, lovely to sleep with a furry cat purring next to you. But this morning OH. MY. GODS. Headbutting me at 6:30 am, I cannot, truly, risk another piddle incident, so I get out of bed and throw him out the door. Back in bed, I suddenly hear, not crying to get in, not scratching to get in, but apparently a construction crew. Seriously. It sounded like there was a bear about to eat him on the other side of the door. “Help me Obi Wan Deborah, you’re my only hope!”

I did not succumb.

Tuesday, April 28th, 2009

Tuesday Trivia

1. Misfit and bird man underwater.
Solved by George (comment #5).

2. Pregnant woman goes to the movies, meets dummy.
Solved by George (comment #1).

3. Little big reporter and clown editor.
TIE: Solved by Melville (comment #6) and Ken (comment #7).

4. Southern gentleman robbed by expatriate saloon keeper.
Solved by Ken (comment #8).

5. Dog trainer and nun go on road trip.
Solved by George (comment #2).

6. Boxing great kidnaps professor.
Solved by George (comment #4).

7. Silent film star puts on a show in the barn of a Kansas farm girl.
Solved by Melville (comment #9).

Monday, January 5th, 2009

Monday Movie Review: Out of the Past

Out of the Past (1947) 10/10
Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) owns a small-town gas station and woos a small-town girl, until a man from his past pulls him back into a life of deception and danger. Directed by Jacques Tourneur.

Five years ago, I broke my knee and spent four or five days in the hospital, during which, not surprisingly, I watched quite a lot of television, including a showing of Out of the Past. i didn’t much care for the movie, I found it disjointed and corny. Turns out I took an awful lot of Demerol and Percoset during those four or five days, and that may have affected my perception.

Out of the Past is a perfect film noir, hitting all the classic themes in exactly the right way. The femme fatale (Jane Greer) is beautiful and dangerous, the hero is witty and insouciant, yet cannot escape the hand of fate, and the shadows of night and the city are sharply contrasted with the sunshine of small town decency.

The first thing I noticed was the construction and pacing. Every beat hits at exactly the right moment. A dark stranger arrives in a small town. We hear about the hero before we see him, and then move away from darkness into light; Jeff and Ann (Virginia Huston) fishing at a secluded lake, and then embracing, and then discussing marriage, and only then does Jeff’s deaf employee (Dickie Moore) intrude with news of the stranger’s arrival.

Kathie Moffat, the femme fatale, is also introduced in conversation. Before we ever meet her, we know she’s shot Whit (Kirk Douglas), her powerful lover. Whatever we know of her afterwards, we are not to forget that she is capable of attempted murder, perhaps to steal forty thousand dollars, perhaps just to get away.

Whit wants Kathie back, and hires Jeff, at that time a private detective, to find her. Jeff follows her trail to Acapulco, his fascination growing, and we still have not yet seen Kathie onscreen. Before she appears, we know what will happen when she does. It’s inevitable: Jeff falls for Kathy and deceives Whit into believing he has not found her.

The introduction of the two principles are a perfect parallel. Jeff in an innocent, natural and loving setting, but haunted; Kathie in the midst of a deception, seductive and manipulative. Kathie is a trap, and Jeff is caught in it.

The film catches us up with Jeff’s past by means of his confession to Ann, then we are in the present with Jeff seeing Whit for the first time since betraying him. Late in the movie, we return to Ann’s small town to check in with events there, and it is startling how bright the sun shines there. Yes, we’ve been to Acapulco and Lake Tahoe, but the sun is only beautiful in Bridgeport; Jeff’s past-become-present is one long shadow.

Out of the Past is very interested in showing us goodness and evil, and contrasting them, but carefully notes that they don’t produce different results. At one point Kathie tells Jeff that she’s no good, and so is he, and that’s why they belong together. It struck me pretty powerfully in that moment, that Jeff had shown no real sign of being no good, except for falling for Kathie. Even when he betrayed Whit, he refused to take Whit’s payment. His only crime (as in, felony) was in covering up a worse crime of Kathie’s. We see from the start that he is honest with Ann, and even Whit says that he’s hired Jeff because he has a reputation for being both smart and honest. Maybe it’s “smart” that dooms him.

Every performance here is perfection. Mitchum is powerful, watching the world from under his dreamy eyelids, yet still entrapped by it. Kirk Douglas is excellent as a wealthy man who pulls every string, and Jane Greer is captivating. The plot and characterization strongly resemble The Maltese Falcon, but that doesn’t detract from the film.

The whole thing works together: Acting, directing, cinematography, wit, sensuality, morality, and the dark shadow of film noir falling over it all.

Monday, December 8th, 2008

I hate Fanty

So the Gang of Two consists of Mingo and Fanty. Mingo has some annoying eccentricities, but is basically the ideal pet. Independent yet affectionate, he’s even a good mouser.

His sister, on the other hand, is here on earth to drive me mad. And she’s succeeding. She’s so nervous that if you walk near her she runs and hides, and yet so demanding that she will cry near your hand until you pet her, and cry whenever you stop, for hours. (But only your hand. She’s terrified of being picked up.)

Fanty has occasional seizures (I know, I know). Previously, they’d been every couple of months, but then she had three in four weeks, so we decided to medicate her. Problem is, she’s nervous, so I was very concerned about giving her pills. My vet gave me Pill Pockets. You put the pill inside the treat and squish it closed. The first one, she refused to eat, and I had to force it down her throat. The second one, she ran from me when she saw it, and forcing it down her throat was harder. Somehow, though, she realized they tasted good, and the next dose she ate readily when I left it on the floor by the spot where she comes to cry at my hand, and soon she was begging for them.

The problem is that I have to get Mingo out of the way because he doesn’t have seizures and shouldn’t have phenobarbital.

This morning it was complicated. Mingo was in the bedroom and Fanty was not. I couldn’t get Mingo out, and then Fanty went into the bathroom, and I thought ‘Fine, I’ll give it to her there’ and shut myself and a pill in with her, but she became upset and cried. So I opened the door, got Mingo out, and shut us into the bedroom.

But now she was already upset and just cried and cried and cried. I put the pill/treat on the floor on her spot and dangled my hand, but she was having none of it, and just kept crying. So I thought I’d ignore her so she could relax, and started fiddling with my cellphone.

At which point, she got up on my bed and let loose a long, angry stream of urine.

Peed.

On my bed.

Sort of “Welcome to Monday” writ large.

Friday, November 14th, 2008

The Return of Friday Catblogging!

<small><strong>Luggage? What luggage? You mean my cat bed?</strong></small>

Luggage? What luggage? You mean my cat bed?

After getting back from Florida, I hurt my back, and so I haven’t finished unpacking. Mingo loves this suitcase. Loves it. Snuffs it. Sticks his head in. Sticks his body in. Lays on it. Sharpens his claws on it.

So at 5am when nature called, I nearly tripped over this little scene, and somehow thought to grab the camera. Took the picture in the dark and only saw afterwards that it came out cute as pie.

Friday, September 26th, 2008

Catblogging Revisited: Mason and Sophie

My partner, Jack, just e-mailed with photos of Teh Kitties. Catblogging is saved!

This is Sophie (we only call her Sophia when she’s in trouble):

This is Mason and Sophie:

Continue reading Catblogging Revisited: Mason and Sophie

Friday, September 26th, 2008

Friday Catblogging: Verschränkung

My partner’s younger brother accidentally demolished our digital camera, so I’m afraid I don’t have any pictures of my own precious babies to share with you guys.

As an alternative, let’s take a gander at Schrödinger’s cat:

Friday, September 19th, 2008

Friday Catblogging: Strange Things Mingo Does

Mingo loves plastic bags.

Cat on Bag on Chair

Cat on Bag on Chair

This may look like a cat on a chair. It is not. It is a cat having a love affair with a plastic bag that happens to be on a chair. Soon he will begin to suck and chew it.

Frickin ew.

Continue reading Friday Catblogging: Strange Things Mingo Does

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

Friday Catblogging: reeeeeeee-lax

What? I’m just hanging out!

Relaxed and stretchy

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