Monday, March 7, 2011

99 bottles of beer

My next post will be my 100th on this blog!
I feel like making this one a write-off so that I can get to 100, but I'll try not to.
Consequently, it probably will end up being a write-off, but not intentionally.
This is not my cat. This cat is too smart to be my cat. This cat could take on Dr. Mallei*. {via}

Have you ever seen a completely blissed-out kitten? (Or cat?). I mean, a kitten (or cat) that is in so much luxury that it doesn't know what to do with itself?
I think it's hilarious.
Since the nights recently started getting a little chilly, now that it's officially autumn here, it was cool enough to pull out a blanket Dad gave me when I was much younger. We called it a "mink blanket", because it feels like faux-mink fur, I guess. Super soft on one side, a bit longer but less velvety on the other side. It's blue, and has dolphins on it. It's crazy warm and great for couch cuddles. Anyway, we pulled this out the other night, and I put Reya on it.
I think her brain exploded a little.
Instantly, her eyes glazed over, half-closing in ecstasy as she starts working her little feet in that kitteny-kneading motion. Pad pad pad. The same one that she does to my throat every single morning at 5.30am (not kidding.) The purr starts - nobody's patting her, this is self induced pleasure. Sometimes it gets too much for her and she wants her whole self to be enveloped by this soft luxury and so tries to find a fold in the blanket, into which she rams her head. She can't make herself comfortable lying on it though, because she wants every part of her to be one with the blankety goodness, and so kind of lounges back and forth, unsettled, still kneading away with her paws, face being mushed into the blanket, eyes closing. Sometimes she springs onto it accidentially, on the way to somewhere else, and it stops her dead in her tracks, like:
"HOLY CRAP, THE SOFTNESS!!!" And her brain explodes a little again, and she starts the purr, and can't bring herself to continue on to where ever she was going before she was trapped by the blanket.

I realize I'm about to make this post all about the two furkids, but there's one other funny thing.

Mr. Sensitive-Sooky-Trouble-Face is so... well, sensitive. He'll be lying, sleeping, next to me on the couch. Reya will be doing something naughty, I dunno, chewing a plant, or playing with the computer cords, or finding another one of my hair-ties somewhere ("Didn't I put this away 5 minutes ago!? In a closed cupbpard!?!"), and I'll give her a bit of a hiss, to get her to stop. Or go: "Oi!"
And Mallei, thinking he's, for some reason, in trouble for sleeping, gets up all of a sudden and runs off. Ok, so he can't differentiate between when I'm telling her off, or him off, though I never hissed at him, he still seems affected by it, but still, seriously? You're sleeping here, I'm not that bad at yelling at you.
But then we get to kiss (figuratively), and make up. And have happy couch cuddle times.

And now the two of them are having mutual lick sessions, whereby the kitten grooms Mallei's face, cos it has short fur, and he just licks her everywhere until she's slobbery. It's very cute, and kind of funny.

Not quite as dramatic as this. {via}

Also, in other news, I had a maths class this morning.
Maths, you guys.
Not that we did any actual maths.
Then I cycled home.
It took me 10 minutes more to get home via bike than it does to drive in and park (have I said this already? If so, sorry). I think if I don't take the dirt trail through the nice park but instead stick to a small sort of side road, it'll be quicker still since my bike + roads = awesome, bike + dirt bikepaths = not so hot. (See, maths.)
And, FYI, in Australia, maths is plural (mathematics anyone?), so I will be writing maths, not 'math', cos that's what makes sense to me.

Possibly not the right attitude to bring into the classroom. Mantra this semester: Maths is good. Maths is good. Maths is good. {via}

And now I'm going to sit around in my underwear for 3 hours (did you need to know this? Possibly not), and then I'm going to cycle the 9km back to Uni for my 3pm class. Joy! It'll be super good for me though. I figure, people say interval training is the best cardio way of losing fat. What's cycling, but extended, random intervals? You cycle up-hill, get puffed, cruise down the other side while you have a rest, maybe go on flat, resting, go fast to beat traffic, get puffed, rest... etc. It is, I suppose, a much more 'natural' form of interval training than sprinting for 30 seconds, jogging for 2 mins, sprinting for 30 secs, jogging for 2 mins.  Plus it'll be less evil on my knees. Bonus.
And that's all.

What should I do for my 100th post!? I feel like it should be something interesting or special or awesome or different, or all 3. Ideas?

*Which, yes, he was meant to write on Saturday (thanks Nic), and I/he will get to soon.

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