For the most part, I've tried to keep this blog free of bitchery, opting instead to focus on the more positive aspects of my day-to-day life - figs, for example, or bicycling. Or James Tate. Or BBQs. The time has come, however, where the need to bitch has become so pressing that it must necessarily override the "positive" focii of this blog. Yes, friends: I hate my sister's cat.
Shakira, as she's known, doesn't at first seem like the true menace she is. Sure, she's a little clingy, weaving between one's legs as one stumbles to the bathroom in the morning. True, she mews incessantly beginning at 4:30 am (her feeding time?), and during her first week here, she crapped all over the house, forcing Ali to mop five days in a row. But these aren't the things that bother me. What takes the cake is Shakira's habit of wedging her [admittedly rotund] self in partially-opened drawers, making herself comfortable there.
Unfortunately for me, the bottom drawer of my dresser doesn't close all the way; I've tried a few times to fix it, but to no avail. Yesterday, Shak forced her way into my drawer and sunk her claws into my new, strawberry-pink J.Crew sweater. I'm sure she wasn't choosy about which article she destroyed: that yet-unworn sweater just happened to be at the top of the pile. My sister's response to this destruct-o-thon? Laughter. Yes, she found it "cute" and "endearing" that her cat took such a liking to the garment. Ha. Ha. Ali is going to take my sweater to the tailor this weekend to see if (s)he can someone pull the snags in, but if not...new sweater time.
I guess the title of this post is deceptive: I don't hate all cats, just one. But I thought that, while I was being dramatic, why not be real dramatic? You know?
In other news: yesterday I finished reading In Defense of Food. I'm not sure I enjoyed the writing - Pollan seems to belabor certain points, perhaps in an attempt to gain length? - but I found certain examples illuminating. Case in point: "...in the late 1800s five states passed laws requiring that all butter imitations be dyed pink so no one would be fooled" (34). Who knew? I did not. Despite my pseduobalking at certain dry stretches of prose, I was intrigued enough by Pollan's dictum to avoid eating foods with more than five ingredients that I started examining what I have in the pantry. Not good, folks. Not terrible, but I decided to toss my Yoplait Light and buy personal Chobanis, instead. The absence of aspartame was notable.
3 comments:
I was laughing quite a bit about your Shakira story. Poor sweater! Also, could you post a photo of her rotundity?
I liked "Omnivore's Dilemma" much more than "In Defense of Food." The first book was much more fun, whereas the 2nd seemed like an edict from on high.
Anyway, I enjoyed your post.
Thanks, Bibnall! I will post pics of Shakira. (And the apartment: hopefully soon.)
I've heard good things about "Omnivore's" - perhaps I'll read this one next.
yeah, I recommend "omnivore's dilemma" way more than "in defense of food." i got the feeling that the latter was written hastily, it lacked a lot of sincerity I think.
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