Saturday, May 06, 2006

Mr. Time Waster Himself

It never ceases to amaze me, coming up to exams, how amazingly talented most people are at NOT studying. Apparently, for many college students, sitting in the library can be equated with studying in the library. Of course, I'm really not one to talk as, in times of need, I can be extremely inventive when it comes to finding ways of not hitting the books. Trying to study at home for me is a lost cause because, for some unknown reason, it suddenly becomes so incredibly important to do something as trivial as my washing! I mean there could be nothing in the bottom of the laundry bag but a pair of socks, but I will make it my business to FIND other things, ANY other things, that could be washed. For reasons beyond my control, hygiene seems to become a much more serious issue coming up to exams. So, it appears, does dusting, polishing, vaccuming, and sorting my cd's into order both alphabetically and chronologically. Of course, it takes a few hours to realise that just might be impossible...but not to worry, because by that stage its time to start cooking dinner. And as everyone knows, you should give yourself plenty of time to cook your standard 5 course evening meal. Sure I do this every day of the year!

Today, while sitting in the library, and actually studying might I add (because I am a mature, level headed, graduate now)..I was lucky enough to come back from the bathroom to find that Mr. Time Waster himself had taken up residence in the chair next to mine. It was an interesting few hours I must say, because I do believe that I have found the one person who just might be able to beat my friend Richard at wasting time!

He started out motivated enough. Highlighter pen at the ready. Photocopied article in front of him. Bent over the desk, furiously highlighting what seemed to me to be every single word on the page. Apparently though this seemed to be requiring him to expend more energy than his bowl of weetabix had given him, and after 5 mins or so, he laid the highlighter down and stretched. The sort of stretch you'd do after a 5 mile run, or a 5 hour exam...or seemingly a 5 minute highlighting session. Whoever said highlighting isn't a sport should talk to Mr. TW!
Time for a break evidently. And after a half hour chat with a friend of his, who I presume was also "studying" for the day, Mr. TW disappeared for a good hour only to return with a bottle of Sunny D and a box of revels. After spending an unnecessarily long time opening the box of revels, and sipping from his Sunny D, Mr. TW decided a spot of textual socialising was in order...proceeding to send texts to what seemed to be every single person in his phone book. *Sigh* job well done. Crisis averted. He found out what to put on that massive spot on his nose. Now it was time for a nap. So he lay his head on the table, on top of his highlighted article, and dozed off for 15 minutes or so. Nothing too long mind you. Not at all! Just a power nap! Sure, Margaret Thatcher SURVIVED on them! Just a little kip to keep the overactive brain cells on their toes. Everyone knows that an alert and keen mind is EXACTLY what is needed when one decides to pick at ones elbow for 20 minutes. Oh yes, after his nap, Mr. TW seemed to find some sort of scab on the tip of his elbow. I don't know, as I really couldn't bring myself to look. Don't know whether he got it off or not, I was too busy vomiting into my handbag.

After a while, I packed up my things, and headed home. While walking away from the desk, I turned around, and I swear to God, Mr. TW was stretching himself across the ENTIRE length of the desk he now solely occupied, smiling to himself and seemingly relishing the fact that NOW he could have a proper nap! Because THAT was the problem with his study technique!

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Just "Fine"!

"Fine". The word has lost all meaning. Or perhaps aquired a new meaning. You see, nowadays, something is only fine if it, in actual fact, really isnt fine at all. Fine has evolved into "not-fine". Like if everytime you said yes you really meant "not-yes" (ie. no). Come to think of it though, isnt that what most women do?
I honestly prefer dealing with men, because they will always say yes when they mean yes, and no when they mean no. Although, I fear perhaps that this yardstick of sanity that the world has been clinging to throughout the ages is indeed sinking beneath the emergence, and recent creation, of the Metrosexual male. The man who is comfortably in touch with his feminine side. Who knows the winners of this years Oscars, and the location of his cuticles. Ask a man 10 years ago where his cuticles were and he'd think you were hitting on him!
I remember once, while taking part in a pageant, visiting a sheep farm. Our days were filled with visiting different places, and people, and yes, one day we were taken to a sheep farm. Needless to say, sheep farmers were present. Many of them. They were greatly removed from metrosexuality, and any type of sexuality I'd venture to guess! Anyhow, they were enjoying their day. Watching the girls in their pretty dresses sink lower and lower as their stilettos sank into the mud beneath their feet. Some girls mistakenly wore sandals. Myself and another included. And herein lies the story..for, and I swear to God, as we passed two sheep farmers on our way through the muck, one turned to the other, and with a face as serious as I've ever seen, said "Jesus Mick, but they've got fine toes too!"
Of course, here 'fine' meant 'fine'. and so I return to the point of my post. Which is that we should just stop asking people how they are. Because, all we're going to hear is "fine". Which actually means "not-fine", and really doesn't help the situation at all. Because you're not really getting a proper answer to your question. Of course, you could just not give a rats tail about how that person really is. Which I also fear, mostly is the case. So perhaps, we should go on asking people how they are when we couldnt care less, and hearing an answer that we know isnt true, but are thankful for, because when you meet someone in passing, the last thing you want to hear about is the fungus growing on their toes, or God forgive, the fact that they may be so hopeless and helpless and despairing that the only way out they can see is to end the life they've been given. No. Perhaps "fine" will do just fine. For now anyhow.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Someone You've Never Seen

Sitting here listening to Tom Waits "Closing Time".. "no one's awake except for the moon and me". obviously not quite, but sometimes it feels that way doesn't it? Sleep seems so futile sometimes. Unfortunately though, I can't cope without a good nights sleep. Although its occasionally tempting to have a good day's sleep, and to stay up through the night. So much more productive under the cover of darkness. Things can happen during the night, lives can change, there's something so much more magical about the night. About moonlight. "With nothing but moonlight to guide our paths, we shared a few nights of memorable laughs".
Also thinking about how people can just come back into your life. And it always happens when you least expect. You can do all you can to keep some people out, but others.. well others you just know will always have a foot in the door. well, for the time being anyhow. is there ever a right time to meet someone? more importantly, is there ever a wrong time? yes, i think so. i think the key is knowing yourself. if you dont know who you are, then how can you get to know other people? or maybe that's what we do. spend so much time and energy trying to get to know other people, that we forget to save some time for us. know what everyone's favourite colour is, except your own. who cares. favourite colours are like favourite hairstyles..they change. they change with time and they change with you. what happens though when you wake up one day and realise that you've never changed your hair and you have no idea whether you prefer blue, or black, or pink, or green. or whether you're just not really a colourful kind of girl. some people see the world in black and white. what about the shades of grey? colours seem different to different people. i say black, you say navy blue. the world is never seen in colour, because no one's colour is ever the same. just like no one's perception of you is ever the same. no one is ever going to know the real you, because there is no real you. You are who you become when you're with different people. you are who you want yourself to seem to be....
but, who are you when the lights are off, when everyone's gone, when the bar's stopped serving, and even the hobo's are asleep? who are you when the world as you've created it is stripped bare until the sun rises again? thats why the night is the scariest time for alot of people. because there's usually no one there with whom we can pretend to be who we want to be. the stage is dark, the curtains down, the audience is gone home...and the actress doesn't know how to make her legs move to take her off the stage, because she doesnt know how to act like herself. how can you act like someone you've never seen?

Monday, May 01, 2006

A Cone Too Far..

Currently, O'Mally has a huge plastic cone around his head. Doctor's orders, I wont go into the details. But do you think for one minute that he's sitting in a corner feeling sorry for himself? Do you think that he's given up eating, sleeping, playing, because he perhaps feels like a freak with a plastic cone on his head? Nope. Do you think he feels like less of a cat, if you will, simply because he no longer possesses that fundamental cat trait of being able to squeeze through small spaces? Nope. Is he on a diet, thinking that perhaps this turn of events is in someway related to his excessive consumption of catnip and kibbles? Nope.

In fact, it took him less than an hour to realise that there was no way the freaking thing was going anywhere anytime soon. It took him less than an hour to realise that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to be cone-free anytime soon. It took him that long to realise that you know what? Sure, its a little (read: alot) awkward. Sure its not very flattering. Sure his mom's gotta put his food into wierd shaped bowls in order that he may maintain some semblance of normality at mealtimes. Sure now instead of licking his body, he licks the plastic cone. Sure its annoying and bothersome. But you know what? I'm not going to let it ruin my life. I'm not going to let it get the better of me. Instead, I'm going to keep playing, keep living, keep going. It's only a plastic cone.

And you know what? I'm learning from this cat. Because, I'll tell you this much.. if that was me with the plastic cone around my head, I'd be curled up in the corner feeling VERY sorry for myself!

Sunday, April 30, 2006

What Allergy??

You'd wonder why I got a cat when I'm deathly allergic to cats hairs.

Yes...I wonder that as well. Same way I sometimes genuinely wonder if the lights kinda faulty up there. You know, a flickering on and off kinda thing. The days and nights when I cant breathe through my nose, cant smell the roses of spring, cant pick him up without sneezing...I wonder why I decided to subject myself to it.
Yes, we all wonder why I sometimes do the things I do.

So why? And why don't I send him on to another home?

Because I can't. Because its not something I can do. Because I've made a commitment to him, and God knows even though its not easy getting me to commit, once I do, its permanent. Because the crazy cat lady would hunt me down and neuter me herself. Because he's just so God damn gorgeous. One look from those eyes and you'd melt too.

Nope. The point is, no matter how allergic I am to him, O'Malley is here to stay. He's a permanent fixture at Chez Zena, and you know what? I wouldnt have it any other way.

Just make sure to bring a box of tissues when you come round!