Stuff kitties like to do

Tabby cat wanting to go outside - Chloe
Originally uploaded by Suburban Paparazzi

Or at least "Stuff my roommate's 1-year-old kitten, Nalla, likes to do." (The picture is not Nalla.)

1. Watch pigeons from the windowsill and mutter.

2. Push things around with her paws, especially from heights of 3 feet, and look at them in amazement when they fall.

3.. Climb up my leg when I'm preparing food.

4. Hide under the bed and attack people's passing feet.

5. Hide near the bed and attack people's faces.

6. Lick popsicles. My roommate does not know that cats can get diabetes. :(

7. Chase shoelaces and bottle caps across the floor.

Things she does not like to do but does anyway:

8. Wear dresses.

9. Wear hoodies.

10. Be cuddled by me.

Solipsism

serenity
Originally uploaded by randi bee

I try to live my life in terms of the themes I think about. They are usually discrete in one way or another, and thus quantifiable. Spring semester, when I was taking courses more or less about society and all its minor injustices, I thought about that. It was a theme. That and spirituality/sense of self really permeated my thoughts this spring.

It felt good to have strong thoughts, but as usual I was stuck in the academic bubble. I've never been active in any school or purpose-led community, because I am selfish and antisocial - I'll admit that because it's true. And one thing A taught me while I lived with her this past year is that it's stupid to hide the truth from yourself, more so from anyone else who needs to know it.

Now it's summer, and I'm isolated from the people and the community that made me think. My jobs are essentially free of critical thought, because a) in one of them, my position is so low that I'm not considered responsible enough to take on truly thoughtful work beyond being critical of others; and b) in the other, the higher-ups value every possible idea that the interns can dream up but aren't organized enough to make good use of them.

I'm living with people who aren't like me. I'm discovering just how hard it is for me to open up to people, whether it's out of stubbornness or pure personality. I'm unwilling to make the effort to befriend new people these days, because I am afraid we will just drift apart that much faster, when my time in New York is up. This is incredibly pessimistic, but I am too stubborn and in too deep denial to change.

The one benefit of being so introspective and introverted means I have time to realize these things about myself. I've grown up a very selfish person, a result of strange emotional cocktails downed over twenty-one years of strange maturation. I notice my self-absorption even in my journals - personal or otherwise. It's interesting to have glimpses of other people's personal journals; they extend so far out in ways very unlike mine. The thoughts they have trickled onto paper or digital media are more like wandering spindles, touching various aspects of life and the thinker's relation to the world.

Mine are more like inward-turning spirals.

God only knows why we (or why I) decide on the ideas we do to share with people like this. But we choose, and I choose, because somehow it seems the most satisfying place to discover things. This self-indulgence, combined with my other hyphenated self-nouns (self-absorption, -centeredness etc.) has made me realize that I am a very lazy person. I dislike honest work, except when I masochistically enjoy it under circumstances of very high stress. It has to be the perfect pinnacle of stress, otherwise I just scuttle away and avoid the effort.

Don't get the wrong idea: I'm hardly worried about this strange condition. I'm just curious to see how it grows and mutates as I get older. Let's call this the diagnosis stage.

Three and a half girls (one's a cat)

Che le Fragole son Buone
Originally uploaded by FotoRita [Allstar maniac]

This picture looks so delicious. When I was younger, my mom used to cut up millions of strawberries for me and mix in a spoonful of sugar. I was a spoiled little fatty, but at least I had good taste. Then again, I also had so much McDonald's as a child that when I had a McNugget meal for the first time in years the other day, it smelled like my childhood.

I have probably said this before, but I don't think living alone is the best choice for me. (Haha I didn't intend for this to be my segue from talk of fast food indulgence.) Don't get confused, I'm not living alone now. But every time my roommate(s) are out, and I have the place to myself, it turns into a couple hours of gleeful me-time followed by abrupt boredom and feelings of uselessness.

At the same time, however, I decided I don't particularly enjoy sharing a room with someone, at least until I get to know them. Close quarters in New York have caused this to be my living situation for the past three years during school, and now summer, and I've discovered some things about it. My main discovery is that I become overwhelmed with embarrassment when I hear the key in the lock while I am talking in silly voices to my roommate's cat.

Seriously, though, I am stuck in this weird limbo of roommatehood that I don't understand. Surely I'm not the only one...

As fast as you can

Originally uploaded by Rahee Nerurkar

I saw Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince last night at 12:40 (we weren't die-hard enough to get the 12:01 tickets), and I have a lot of thoughts about it! However, I'll keep them to myself because I am content with appreciating this movie on my own and don't need the internet to be the reason I have an opinion.

Anyway, I just decided that I want to go running tomorrow morning. I am incredibly tired, so now (10:32 p.m.) is the perfect time to go to sleep, and therefore I could get up around 6 if I want to (right?) and go run. I found this site called runyourcity.com that has a really cool list of places to run in various cities. New York is especially good, since it's so big and there are a) so many great places to run and b) so many crazy New Yorkers who are hard core into being fit.

We'll see how it goes, I love sleeping so it may be a struggle with myself.

And write you are

Moth Orchid
Originally uploaded by teenytinyturkey

I've been thinking about writing a lot, where "writing" is a lot of different things.

It's the profession: I'm interning at two publishing companies (yeah bad choice, interning is already kind of terrible without having to do it twice concurrently). One is an agency, and another is a small independent publishing house.

It's the art: Some of the slush I have to read through at the agency is unspeakably bad. The agent I'm working with is known for representing Young Adult writers, which unfortunately means that people submit stuff to them that seems like it is actually written by (untalented) young adults. Don't get me wrong, I fully believe that young adults are capable of writing well, but the people who submit to us aren't young adults and don't write well, most of the time. I find myself using Harry Potter as my standard for good quality writing, but I re-realized while re-reading a bit of the sixth book last week that Harry Potter is amazing and JK Rowling is a wonderful writer. Maybe it is too high of a standard?

It is the act: In general, I want to write, and find the time to write, very badly. But I watched this documentary (about JK Rowling) and she says, in one of many inspirational epigrams, that she needs to write. I don't think I'm there yet. I don't have enough of any kind of story in me to need to write it. However, I do still try to write the few meager stories I have. They come out poorly and generally unfinished, because I haven't yet allowed myself to write for the story rather than for myself or the reader.

Thinking about writing might just be my sense of purpose trying to break out into the world and see where it might tentatively begin to dip its toes. Writing might not be it, but now's a good time to be thinking about it.