I stroke this kitten with my salad fingers

Well it is summertime, which means yet another year of tense peace treaties between the spider families and myself. Last year at this time we reached an agreement on the bathroom territories, but summer 2010 has started with an aggressive campaign by the spider families to retake their control of the bedroom territories. They seem particularly interested in a coveted piece of land-- the "My Bed" state-- but I've sent the finest diplomat in my cabinet (Mr. Broom) to eliminate their illegally built homes until a treaty can be negotiated.

Week 6-8 are a very important time in a baby cat's life. While he is no longer dependent on his negligent mother for food, Baby Cat spends his 6th-8th week learning social skills from his socially awkward mother (who, in turn, has learned many of her social skills from me). That means the following things:
1) Boomer has weird baby cat B.O. He's a very pungent baby cat.
2) Patches tries to teach him how to wrestle but she seems uncaring of the fact that he is 1/8 her size. Could this be a result of how I sometimes used to tackle Patches when she was sleeping?
3) When they wrestle, Boomer sounds like a goose being squeezed.
4) Patches has taught Boomer that if you stand on the armchair behind me and squeal I will eventually get so annoyed that I will pick you up and give you your daily cuddles.
5) Boomer chases my toes and the only reason I don't mind this is because he's a ball of fluff and is really cute when he runs because his butt bounces really high.

In other news, I ate 1/2 kilo of cherries yesterday.

Also, this: someone recently brought the weird and creepy video series Salad Fingers to my attention and I watched all 9 episodes and caught myself musing over how similar my living situation is to Salad Fingers'. Constant isolation, projecting friendship onto inanimate/cat objects, the only living beings around you make absolutely no sense. I find it very disturbing that my reaction to this horror series was "yeah that dude is legit. I get it."

Wild Friday Nights

While many people my age are getting wasted, dancing at the disco, finding an unexpected love, socializing---- I am feeding a tiny cat meat paste off my finger.

Someone today back in the USA asked me "what [I] do out there for fun." Evenings like this are EXACTLY WHY I NEVER ANSWER THAT QUESTION HONESTLY. Seriously. Here's how I expect my life back in America to go:

Hottie: Oh wow, Peace Corps! That's amazing! So like, what did you do?
Me: Oh... you know... I did some things. With you know, like, organizations I guess. Or whatever.
Hottie: That sounds really fulfilling and rewarding.
Me: Ok Cool.
Hottie: So like, when you weren't digging wells and lifting up children from the squalors of poverty, like, what did you do?
Me: *pregnant pause* Ahhhhh.... well. You know. I really liked.... sunsets. Or I hung out with my friends.
Hottie: Oh cool! What were your friends' names??
Me: Patches. And Boomer. I mean, like, they were cats. Or whatever.
Hottie: You hung out with your cats?
Me: Well, not because I wanted to. But those losers kept coming over because they couldn't make friends of their own and they would make me watch movies and stuff. God, and there was this one time I was out getting a coffee but then I had to-- oh God. Wow! Is that Beyonce on television? She is so fierce, right??
Hottie: Wait, what were you saying? One time you were out getting a coffee.....? And then you had to leave to go build a school?
Me: Oh! Well... no. I mean, kind of. It was more like I had to feed a baby cat meat paste off my finger. It's not as lame as it sounds, really. You see, he was just having difficulty weaning and Patches's nipples were getting overworked, so I had to lay down on the floor with my fingers slathered in highly processed chicken paste so he would learn to lick it off. So yeah, I mean it was a school. Of sorts.
Hottie: I have to go. Forever.

All for the glory of America.


?

Mistakes

I cut my hair the other day and I'm really upset about it. Good thing there is no one here I'm trying to impress.

These cats are driving me insane. Lots of mewing, lots of exploring, lots more mewing, etc. The baby is currently sleeping in my jacket against my stomach which keeps him quiet.

So once the baby gets to be a full blown playful kitten, I want to use him to make motivational posters for other volunteers..... any suggestions as to motivational phrases?

Making Biscuits With Boomer

"Making Biscuits" is what online says it's called when cats knead their claws into something. When cats are babies, they do this to get the milk a-flowin. But I have never figured out WHY it's called "making biscuits." Why biscuits? Why not any other bread product? Having made biscuits, I don't remember any step of the process that resembles squeezing milk out of a cat teat. Mysteries.

I for real miss this baby when he finds a forever home.

Boomer Corral

Once again, we just wanted an excuse to watch the baby bumble around. I'm already getting major separation anxiety for when he has to leave us :(

If anyone has any insight about his eye let me know. It crusts over while he sleeps... I know goop and crust is normal for kittens, but I don't know if I should be wiping it away or not.

Back to the grind.

Sara Remembers What Real Life is Like

Over the past several days, I have been holed up at a 5 star resort on the Dalmatian coast. WWWIIIINNNN. Anyway, it has really helped me remember what life was like before my life was dictated by the whims of a sassy tri-colored feline and her hamster-look-alike offspring.

It's been really nice to not wake up and immediately wonder what manner of dead kitten awaits me and to be able to eat without being stared at from the floor. Instead, my days have mostly been concerned with finding delicious ice cream, eating delicious ice cream and then having conversations about the delicious ice cream i just ate. Though I do have a disturbing habit of greeting every cat I see and inquiring about how it is enjoying the shade/sunbeam it currently sleeps in.

But not to forget about the real stars of this blog. Patches and baby Patches are-- to my knowledge-- doing fine. I emailed Uncle Matt asking if my cats were okay and he replied "...what cats." But he's a JOKESTER and has been diligently wiping away baby's conjunctivitis and squirting him in the eye with anti biotics when necessary.

Last night, I had a horrible dream that Patches had another litter (the logic in my dream was that Patches was "with man" once and then several weeks later was "with man" again, each resulting in separate conceptions and thus delaying the second batch's birth. Also there were two small puppies.) Anyway, me and Patches wandered the country side with a basketful of babies lamenting about what the heck we were going to do with 7 kittens (and two puppies). God that would be horrible.

....Okay back to sunbathing.

Lesson Learned

Do you know what cats don't enjoy? Taxi rides.

Yesterday I packed up the Patches family to come to Uncle Matt's and, needless to say, Patches had limited excitement about being crammed into her carrier. But when the taxi started driving was when the real fun began! Patches basically hyperventilated the entire way there... breathing really fast with her eyes wide and her mouth open. She looked like a snake and I was afraid she had gone feral. She climbed out of her carrier and made me hold her the whole car ride. DITCH YOUR BABY, PATCHES. NICE.

Anyway, we survived.

I have my pastel shorts and moccassins packed, my denars changed into euros and a belly rumbling for Pizza Hut! Can't wait! I actually am really hungry, too.... I was so mad at the lady at Sandwich Snoopys yesterday because I told her not to put condiments on my sandwich but she DID and then they leaked everywhere all over my new sweater and it was so stressful I had to throw away half of it. But you didn't see me hyperventilating like a WUSS!

Okay... I should probably do something that borders on productive. I will be sure to post from Croatia, mostly to give you a rare glimpse into the moments in my life where the most exciting thing is not my cat's typical feline behavior.