Adopt Don’t Shop

Do any of you remember back in your high school health class days?

(what does this have to do with “Adopt Don’t Shop” the animal rescue and adoption slogan?…. I’m getting there)

Well, back in my high school health days, 1. I absolutely hated the class (sorry Mrs. Bowen)  2. At one point during the course we had to “adopt” egg babies to learn responsibility and what it’s like having a child (although an egg is nothing like a kid I would imagine and we were still gonna spell with people… so again, sorry!).

ANYWAY.  I hate kids.  (there’s a lot of hate in this section sorry [not sorry]) So the last thing I wanted to do was have an egg kid and pretend to take care of it for the grade.  Like I was absolutely against it.  I realized young that it went against my personal morals and beliefs.  I didn’t want  kids and I wasn’t going to have someone tell me I had to.  I know it’s an egg but the principal of the thing!

I had to do the assignment…  so I HAD to come up with an acceptable alternative to an egg baby.

THINKING

THINKING

I would adopt a egg kitten.  I very young kitten that was alone and needed to be fed every 4 hours by a syringe, that needed to be watched all the time cause it could eat something, and would hopefully sleep….  MY sort of perfect come back to a child.

The project was approved and so began my 1. school career of manipulating projects to be what I wanted and 2. vision for an adult like where I had NO CHILDREN (sorry friends with kids, I don’t understand your life choices) but I did have a beautiful little white kitten.


Fast forward about 15 years…. and KITTEN!

I could basically stop right here, swamp you with kitten photos, and make my point.

But that wouldn’t be fun to read (I’ll still bombard you with pictures though).

I’ve always wanted a cat of my own.  For the past several years I’ve wanted a little white girl kitten to name Tiffany (yes, like the jewelry company and deck her out in teal and blue) Carpathian (if you Google “Carpathian Kitten Loss” you will understand).  I’ve waited for the right time, with the right people, the right apartment, and the right financial situation… and it’s finally come true.

I started following a local New York kitten/cat rescue and foster Instagram accounts a while back, thinking maybe I’d volunteer or come across a kitten I loved (check them out on IG @littlewanderersnyc).  The latter happened.  I’d just gotten back from Bali and found out one of my roommates was moving out.  So of course to was scrolling on Instagram to take my mind off the stress that would be coming my way (lol) and I came across a post about these 2 little white kitten sisters who were up for adoption.  It was 10:30 at night and I literally emailed the adoption inquire link right then and there.  They got back to me in minutes with the form I needed to fill out to start the adoption process.

OK, form filled out and emailed back in…. waiting, waiting, waiting.  A whole week and nothing.  I was concerned, was I not FIT to adopt?  Was the kitten already going home to someone else? So I emailed again… and they were just behind due to the holidays!  Alright I can work with that.   I keep waiting and after the new year the gears start to turn.  I was actively following all the action on Instagram and talking with several different people at the adoption group.  One woman had the kitten, so we talked about what she was eating and how to trim claws and choose litter.  Another woman was the accountant and we coordinated to get the adoption fee, so stamp needed as she lived 3 blocks away(!) talk about local.  And someone else about the organization and the history of the kitten and particulars of adopting.  This kitten and her sister had been through a lot in just 4 little months.  They were rescued from the stairwell a crack house where they were being sold for drug money (so the tail goes) and there were malnourished and infected and not looking good.  You would never know if you saw them now!

Finally it was all said and done.  Kitten was healthy, fixed, and microchipped.  She was active and playful and ready for a furever home.  Meanwhile I had gone and ordered 5 different toys and scratchers and collars and food and litter and a bed and a box and a carrier and a blanket and basically anything else I could think of that this kitten would need or want.  With of course, as much as possible being in teal or sky blue.

On a Thursday after work in the middle of one of the most frustrating weeks of my year, my fabulous roommate picked me up and we adventured into Yonkers to retrieve the kitten.  We arrive, we play with the cat, we take a “Going Home Furever” picture and just like that we are back in the car, kitten and all.

Now I spend my nights and days off playing with mice and feathers on a string or being forced to take a nap cause I’m pinned down by a little white fur ball.  Tiffany is friendly, playful and totally curious.  She’s not a cat that will run and hide from people in the apartment and once I got a nail trimmer I started looking like a happy cat parent.

So between Bali tales and running experiences… I’ll be sharing the adventures of Tiffany Carpathia or “Ms. Tiff”!

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Have you adopted a pet?  Cat person or dog person?  Just think she’s adorable?  Keep checking in!

=^*^=

Always,

C

A Hard Boiled Egg

Just musing around here, cause it’s a Tuesday night and “what am I having for dinner?” has been the question on my mind.  A salad.  No great story ever started with eating a salad… well, maybe this one will.

Digging through the fridge…  thinking ok I have spinach, carrots, mushrooms.  I’d like something else… we have eggs… a hard boiled egg would be a perfect addition…


I have always thought it was practically rocket science to hard boil an egg.  Laugh all you want, but ti’s true.  I grew up with eggs WAY to boiled or still all runny inside, that eventually I just quit asking for them and later started buying them pre-done at Trader Joes.

This past weekend I was going to the theater with a friend and we did dinner before.  First on the menu- a salad- with hard boiled egg.  And yes, I had to ask for step by step instructions on how to hard boil the darn eggs!

Like really?  It takes 10 minutes:

  1. put the eggs in a pot
  2. fill the pot with water, covering the eggs
  3. boil the water and once boiling leave for 5-7 minutes
  4. turn off the stove
  5. cool/rinse in cold water

Poof, done.  Hard boiled eggs.


So it wasn’t that hard at all.  But I didn’t know that till I asked.

I read a book recommended by  a dear friend a while back, The Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer and there is a lot to be said about asking for help or guidance.  Mostly that it’s OK and that you won’t look as stupid as you think if you just ask.  I find I look more ridiculous when I don’t ask and mess something up royally… Instead of just saying I need help.

Not gonna lie, life has been crazy and I’ve been away from the blog, but really that’s gonna change.  There are races to be reviewed, wines to the tasted, other bloggers to share (Check out the travel blog Brows The World by my dear friend Alex) and much more.

 

Stay tuned and stay true, I appreciate each and every one of my readers!

 

Always,

C

Friday the 13th Edition: Little Black Cat Tat

Well, it’s Friday the 13th, that unlucky day that creeps up on us a few times each year.  A date that causes anxiety and paranoia abound, when sidewalk cracks and black cats are avoided at all costs.  I’m definitely a little superstitious, but a black cat crosses my path every morning on the way to brush my teeth, so it’s something I’m used to…?

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Lenny the Cat, our resident black cat

 

 

From the little research I did, this chaos originated through the horror films and folklore of days gone by.  Almost all cultures it seems, have a tale us misfortune and supernatural events.  Add in the current phase of the moon and the path of Mercury’s orbit, and you can have quite the day!

To each their own as to how they spend this notorious day… but I have my favorite Friday the 13th story.  This fun fluff piece is the story of my little black cat tat.

Yes, a few years back on a Friday the 13th with a full moon and Mercury in retrograde, I wondered into a local hole in the wall tattoo parlor with a sketch.  For about 5 years I had been designing a black cat tattoo and I was finally ready to commit it to my body.  Why a little black cat, you may ask?  Well, if you know me at all you know I am a total cat person but due to a family full of allergies, was never able to have a kitty of my own.  There were plenty of cats in my life, I’ve been cat sitting for friends and neighbors sense I was like 10… but I wanted my own cat… and I had created a design that I really loved.

So I went and sat and had a needle repeatedly pricked into my forearm.

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Outline done, fill in begins

Click on the images to read the fun captions!

 

Getting a tattoo is different for everyone, and I’m not saying I am an expert, but I have a little experience.  My top 3 tips:

  1. Know what your design is (and like it) and where it’s going to be placed.  I’ve always designed my tattoos and been sure they are exactly what I want– once it’s done it’s kinda hard to change.
  2. Give yourself plenty of time for the session.  Whether you are just doing a walk in (many studios allow it depending on staffing and scheduling) or have an appointment made in advance, allow time.   It can take longer then you expect and being stressed about running late to something else will only make the process more uncomfortable.
  3. Follow all the care instructions, it’s like a cut- let it heal.  One of the biggest contributing factors, I think, to why I love my ink so much is that none of them got infected, scabbed off poorly and lost color or detail, because I took proper care and let them heal.  Yes it’s itchy, yes it might bleed or ooze, but when that’s all over it’s worth it to have a well done tattoo!

Each time I’ve gotten a tattoo (3 in total to date), I get a different reaction from friend family and new acquaintances. When I got my first tat (around my ankle), some loved it and appreciated the art and statement, some people got flat out mad, and others got concerned… concerned that I was becoming some strange tattooed rebel.  When I got my 3rd piece- my mantra across my rib cage- I quickly discovered that while the words were meaningful and unique, the location is what society is making the “new” tramp stand.  Getting this, my second tattoo, due to the timing made many people see it as a “F**k my Ex” piece.  (Which was not the case).

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Most people don’t know what it is at first.  The cat faces me and from the opposite perspective looks like some pretty squiggly lines (or the “Death Eaters” design from Harry Potter)!

 

Well, that was 2 years ago.  The sharpness of the lines has faded and color has faded slightly, but she is still beautiful and maybe one of my favorite pieces.  Others will always have words, but it’s my body and the store is what really makes it special and unique.

 

What are you up to this Friday?  Cuddling the nearest black cat perhaps?  When in doubt it’s a nice little excuse for being “out of it” at work at the end of a long tedious week… because it’s the 13th.

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we have pretty eyes 😉

Always,

C