Clawtermined (catfinition) – when a cat decides to employ their claws to take a prize.
In use: See this example of a cat clawtermined to get a bagel posted on Mock Paper Scissors.
I never knew cats were fans of bagels.
“You gonna finish that?”
The TV Dream
Last night’s vivid dream placed me as a minor actor on a science-fiction television series. The show runner came in and made big announcements that we needed to create a special, kick-ass show. He was running around with hyperbolic enthusiasm that spread like kudzu.
I decided I would be part of that. Seeing him crossing a broad, carpeted room, I intercepted him and regaled him about my desire to be a part of creating this special show. He said with broad puzzlement, “Who are you?” I explained I was a minor character actor on the show but that I had ideas for it and wanted to write. Then I told him some of my ideas.
It was enough that he didn’t shrug me off or chase me out. Nor did he endorse me. But I accepted that I was now part of the writing and production team. They were having an off-site. Finding out where it was, I crashed the site.
The place was chaos. Groups were entrenched around tables. Food was being served on a buffet table. The head writer and creator was walking around talking to people, but he wasn’t talking about the show. None of them were, as far as I could tell. I circled around the tables, looking for an opening to join. A few people knew me and chatted with me. A couple even introduced me to others.
Sometimes the groups would get up and move around. Each time this happened, I thought, here we go, now maybe we’ll start. But, no. They just resettled and continued chatting. Then, weirdly to me, it looked like they were breaking for lunch. They hadn’t done anything, in my opinion. By then I felt like an outcast and was dejected by their lack of direction and energy. I decided to leave.
Some who knew me saw me leaving and started talking to me, trying to convince me not to go, but I’d made up my mind. This was clearly not my scene. I’d go elsewhere.
Leaving required me to walk up a steep hill to a pedestrian bridge. The pedestrian bridge spanned eight lanes of traffic. Businesses like restaurants, stores, and gas station bordered both sides of the road. I could see a long way from here.
Some of the people from the show caught up. Several tried to engage me. I didn’t put them off, but I wasn’t interested in their entreaties. From the top of the hill by the pedestrian bridge, I looked for where I needed to go. It seemed like miles way. I would need to walk. The sun was hot, and the traffic rushing below increased the heat. Finding my destination, I resigned myself to a long way, and began making my way.
Floofspices
Floofspices (catfinition) – a cat’s kindly patronage and guidance
In use: “All the home’s activities are done under the floofspices of four cats, except vacuuming in any form.”
Sunday’s Theme Music
We attended a show called “Million Dollar Quartet” at the Oregon Cabaret Theater last night. Great show, very lively. I was familiar with the music played but it was all from before my time. Still, it put me in a rock and roll frame of mind while I was walking to my writing today. Lots of songs streamed in, but the one that grabbed me was David Bowie’s “Suffragette City”.
I enjoy how the song cranks up with raucous overtones right from the start. It seems like both a conversation between the singer and others about a woman he’d met but also an internal conversation about a person reflecting on who he is, his sexuality, and where he’s going and doing. There’s a sense of a decision being made at a fork in the road. Most of all, though, it’s a rocking song and easy to sing. Love that hook, “Ahhh, wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”
Screwed
I finally did it!
I finally fixed my Roomba.
The Roomba robotic vacuum cleaner had become quieter. Its softer noise made us suspicious, so we conducted a paper test. The Roomba failed. Then I removed the collector, got down on the floor, and confirmed that the brushes weren’t turning. Bummer.
That was months ago. I began looking into repairing it, but then, I thought, maybe I should buy a new one. They were on special at Costco and seemed pretty damn attractive. The display models lacked the scratches and wear and tear plaguing my current beloved Roomba. The new ones had that great new Roomba smell, too.
I read reviews and comparisons, checked prices, and thought, and thought. Eventually, I decided the old one probably only has a couple thousand miles on it and deserved to be fixed. Besides, it now felt like part of the family. I reminisced about the time that poor sick Lady had decided she’d piss on the Roomba, and how you just need to pick it up to send Quinn through the pet door with a sonic boom. I wrestled with what I do with it if I got rid of it. Taking it to the Goodwill seemed wrong. I refused to even think of the landfill.
The parts, a new enhanced cleaning head (I don’t know how it was enhanced), purchased for $49 with free shipping, arrived yesterday. Three minutes later, the Roomba was repaired and making its rounds again. The weird thing was that iRobot had sent new screws with the replacement part. I used them, which meant I had four perfectly good screws left over.
Perfectly good.
I’m like a compulsive scavenger. Whenever I have left over screws, nuts, bolts, or hardware, I add them to my collection. It’s a fine collection, begun when I first moved out when I was eighteen. At first, I integrated left over screws with others in my various drawers and containers. Then I began keeping them separate, with little notes. The notes had their original planned use and the date. That way, see —
I don’t know what was planned there. It was just an idea. What I’d realized was that most of the screws, bolts, nuts, and fasteners were too unique to be used elsewhere. Most of the time when a fastener was required, I’d go through the collection, testing their viability, conclude that what I have doesn’t work, and go buy new ones.
Having recognized this, I threw the four Roomba screws away. It required a lot of grit, opening the trash can, putting my hand with the screws over it, letting the screws go, and closing the lid. It took a lot of grit, and just five minutes, but I did it. I kept my eyes closed, though. I couldn’t bear to watch.
So that’s it. My days of being screwed are over.
Now, what do I do with the old, un-enhanced Roomba cleaning head? I could just trash it, I suppose, but I think I can make some room on a shelf. Because you never know when it might come in handy, right?
Kitty-go-round
Kitty-go-round (catfinition) – a pick-up game cats play that involves running in and out of doors in patterns developed as the game proceeds. Scoring involves quantum mechanics that only cats understand. One begun, the game is played until any humans present lose become impatient or lose their temper over the game.
In us: “The clowder began playing kitty-go-round just as Michael began watching Lost In Space. Rushing in the pet door in the bedroom, they dashed through the living room, and hurried to another door. When one was let out, another came in. The game ended after just four minutes, when Michael said, “Enough.” All the cats then sat down and gave Michael sullen looks that accused him of spoiling their fun.”
Saturday’s Theme Music
It’s a Stevie Ray Vaughn Saturday. He’s one of those performers that I can say, I’ve never heard something that he performed that I didn’t like. His heart and soul were heard in his sound, no matter the venue or song. No matter what he performed, it seemed so electric and amazing, it seemed like he channeled a higher power.
Here’s SRV and Double Trouble with “Cold Shot”, live, 1985.
