Pimp my cat

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this is Icanhascheezburger material. I just need the right caption. Ideas?

Another purchase, another blog entry

My blog's been going through a slow time, but nothing inspires me to write like a major purchase. One of my goals for this year is to decorate my apartment, and I took a step in that direction this week when I bought this mid-century bed I found on craigslist. How awesome is this? I think it goes particularly well with my 40s building, and maybe even the TV that's almost as old as I am. My stuff isn't just old anymore--it's vintage.

When I finally wrestled the box spring and mattress onto the new frame, the top of the bed turned out to be an inch shy of three feet off the floor. It's a reminder of where the phrase "climb into bed" comes from.

Unfortunately Rocky is not as enamored with the bed as I am. She hid in the closet for over two hours starting when we brought the headboard and footboard in. When I finally managed to coax her out, she stared fearfully at the new bed and then went back into the closet. I've disturbed her sacred hiding place.

To Drive Or Not To Drive

Today I got an auto insurance quote for D.C., and it wasn't pretty. Then I got some more quotes, and they weren't much better. So the question I'm thinking of just selling my car rather than spending oodles of money to keep it parked on the street all the time except for the 1-2 times a week when it seems more convenient to drive through D.C.'s notorious traffic and find parking than to just walk or take public transit. I can always rent a car for weekend excursions, right? To be honest, convenience comes in third in my reasons not to sell my car, the first two being:

1.) I really like Grommit, he's a very distinctive accessory, and I literally just paid him off (should be getting the title in the mail any day)
2.) It will be a pain in the ass to sell my car

Neither of which should really tip the balance toward the spending of oodles of money (not to mention time at the DMV!) to let a car languish by the curb.

Still, I'd feel better if I knew someone who'd give Grommit a good home. Anyone want to adopt a car? He won't be free to good home, but I might knock some off the blue book value for the right person...

Or maybe better insurance news will come in the morning.



Speaking of adoptions, Rocky is doing better. She's still hiding when I come home and not eating as much as she probably should, but she's acting much more like a sweet, affectionate, non-terrified cat. [TOWWAS: I remember telling you a long time ago that if I started a blog it would have to be about my cat. Case in point. Although to be fair, I would have included a picture of my car too if it weren't nine floors and a long, long hallway away. I didn't even have to get up to take a picture of Rocky.]

Rocky

I really think a yellow Beetle has the power to incite goodwill in the hearts of man. Two cases in point, both drawn from this evening:

1.) I'd parked my car on the street on Sunday, and when I came to get it this evening I saw it was in an "emergency no parking area." Had been for two days. It was in front of a building that seemed to be in the process of being demolished, in fact, and there was a dumpster just behind my car. Yet Grommit had not been towed or ticketed.

2.) Upon reaching my destination I couldn't find legal parking, so decided to squat in front of a "diplomatic cars only: romanian embassy" sign. It didn't have hours posted, but I thought no one would need to park at the Romanian embassy at 8:30 p.m. However, as I got out of my car a guy came out and told me I couldn't park there.
"Not even for ten minutes?" I asked.
"For ten minutes, ok. But no longer," he answered in his (presumably) Romanian accent.

And you know what? I'm pretty sure I was there for 15. No ticket, no tow.

The occasion for which I broke out the car was to go meet a cat named Rocky. Until this evening Rocky lived with a guy who works on my floor and his family, but they got a new dog a while back that makes Rocky very nervous, and had decided the cat would be happier in another home, one with no dogs. I was forwarded an email to that effect yesterday afternoon, when I'd settled in just enough to start thinking seriously about acquiring a four-legged roommate.

Unfortunately Rocky, like most cats, does not like being transported. She (yes, Rocky is a she) meowed all the way home, and although I miraculously avoided getting lost on the trip, I seemed to hit every red light. She meowed as I walked a block to my building and down the long hallway to the elevator and into my apartment. When I put the cat carrier down in the walk-in closet and opened the door, she still stayed there meowing for half a minute or so. She was traumatized.

I closed the door of the closet, thinking it might be easier for her to get used to one room at first before exploring the apartment, and also not wanting her to escape when I opened the door. I went back down to the car to get the kitty litter donated by her former owner, and when I came back I found Rocky wedged into the corner of the closet as far as she could go. She meowed piteously, but I really didn't know what I could do for her; it was one of the saddest things I'd ever seen. So I took this picture. Then I decided to put a box in front of her to see if that helped her agoraphobia, and in fact she did stop meowing, though she's still got her nose in the corner. Poor thing.