Amber & It's Pouring

Dear Readers, I am having a hard time.  First, as loyal readers know, Pickles has been struggling with his third UTI this year.

He seemed to be getting better-- he was back to his incessant mewing to play and caught two flies in the bathroom.  But this morning at 5 am, he woke me up with his Litter Box Tour.  He was going from box to box, and several spots in between, scratching and straining, with only tiny, tiny results.  (And some of those results were actually on my shoes-- a stinky reminder that I should have put them away.)  I'm watching him closely today to make sure he is still going.  But, he only has to days left of meds and it seems like he should be better by now, you know?  I worry about my fragile little guy, you know?


 And then, my kitty boyfriend Woody was hospitalized yesterday with pneumonia.  I recognized the huffing and puffing we saw last year when he had the same woes and took him to Schaubhut for a diagnosis.  Schaubhut did an x-ray and recommended hospitalization since he was having so much trouble breathing and should be put on IV meds and in an oxygen tank.  So, that's where he is.  And he sure wasn't happy about it.  (growl)

At least he had a nice time eating salad at the River.  Maybe he has nice kitty memories of that?

So, my two boys, one old and one just a baby, are having a hard time.  Which means, since we all share in the same joyful existence and are made of the same stuff, I am having a hard time.

Also, I worry.  You know?

Amber & Authentic Indian Cuisine

Jimmy sends this photo of a delightful and authentic Indian treat.

I can only assume he is bringing these with him when he comes out for a River visit.  I bet Diana will be excited.  I bet she ate lots of Dough Boy paratha on her trip to India.

Amber & Emergency Evacuation

My commute was two hours long this morning.  WTF, MTA?  I switched to the F at 49-50th Street only to have it stop in the tunnel.  For 30 minutes.  The automated robot voice kept saying we were stopped "while the train crew is investigating track debris."  But then the real live conductor came on and told us that there was a problem with the emergency brake.  I didn't pull it.  I swear.

Anyway, about 20 minutes into the stall, they announced we could leave the train through the front car and walk along a little ledge onto the platform at 42nd Street.  This was a scenario I had not planned for. I mean, I am ready if the Cloverfield monster comes, but I am not ready to go meet those little bug guys on their turf.

Luckily, after this traumatic experience, which also involved me discovering one of my significantly-located shirt-button-holes was too large and was venting my chest on its own, I had my new Eileen Fisher catalog to comfort me.  It's 72 pages on lovely over-sized paper with close ups of fabric.

Thank you, catalog porn.

Amber & No Way To Know

Poor Pickles.

He can't do anything without me watching him like a neurotic mother hawk.  He seems to be better-- at least he is using the litter box less frequently and depositing bigger clumps.  But, he also seems to be sleeping alot, but he is a cat and that is what they do.  Is he sleeping more than his siblings?  Maybe.  He doesn't seem to be eating very much, but that could be an upset tummy from the meds or maybe because he had to give up his favorite dry bunny food.  Maybe?

He mews alot.  But he did that before, didn't he?  And he is laying under the bed and behind the desk alot, but maybe that's because it's so hot?  And he is playing with fleece wand, and he does come out for treats.  Is he better than he was over the weekend?  Yes, definitely.  Is he completely well?

This clip from the much-beloved Betty White episode of SNL really sums it up for me.



There's really no way of knowing.

He could just be a homeless guy in a fur coat.

Amber & Pop! (Goes the Culture)

So which one of these is married to the soccer player?



Clearly this is the sporty one.

But I don't remember there being a Durga Spice.

Staying up-to-date on happenings is so challenging for me.

Amber & Some Things New, A New Thing Old

I feel like I am constantly in a struggle with the Entropy of Clutter in my home.  It's hard to carry out myself and the trash and the recycling--especially since the refuse area is down five flights of stairs, around the corner, and in an alley out behind the building frequented by what I like to think of as sleek-tailed squirrels.  And, I seem to accumulate stuff: direct mail samples, Fresh Direct boxes, books of to-do lists, cat fur, etc.  It's crucial to do a weekly Junk Round Up to make room for new, magical space-occupiers.  For example, I'd much rather have this weird sushi wind up robot that Nick gave me than a stack of Con Ed billson my desk.

(Seen here with Big Nose Felted Guy, another keeper from Nick.)

That's two pieces of inari on the left (my fave) and two pieces of tuna on the right.  And I can't show you because I got my phone before they invented video for iPhones (drat to early adapting), but the two sushis sort of bicycle up and down and round and round when you wind it.  Why?  Because it's amazing.

Gifts are not always keepers, but this new Ganesh statue that Diana brought back for me from India sure is.

(Like the mechanical sushi, Ganesh is not as blurry in real life.)

And that reminds me that my blurry-making phone is actually another place to collect wonderful, and muladhara chakra comforting, things.  Like this Ganesh application.

 (See how the bell is all lit up? You can pick it up and ring it. That is mostly what the app does.)

And, Jimmi referred me to this absolutely essential app where you can gong a mokugyo or the metal gong on the left and induce nagomi ("harmony").

(I won't spoil what "With Cat Mode" is.)

And, speaking of cats, this guy came to live with us a few weeks back.

(He's actually laying on a pile of books to return to other people, on the theme of getting rid of old stuff to make room for the new.)

This new buddy is actually an old artifact from the Boxing Day Heritage Booty.   I molded him from greenware, painted his eyes, paw pads and nose, and then glazed the heck out of him in ceramics class.  Proof?

Every great artist signs her work.  In 1981, I was apparently trying something new with my R's.

Amber & Jimmy Boots

Once in a discussion about Love, Loss, and What I Wore, the pictorial autobiography of Ilene Beckerman tuned turned Broadway play by Nora and Delia Ephron, I denied having strong memories associated with Outfits.  This was, in fact, a bald-faced lie.

Case in point: these boots.

I got these boots once with James.  We were having dinner at Kelly & Ping in SoHo on a cold night, maybe way back in 1998?  There was some big space of time which we were trying to fill between dinner and I think a movie, although the evening's plans are a bit muddled in my memory.  (But, maybe some one will say something that rhymes and I can amend this post.)  It was freezing out and ridiculously windy, but it had been pretty mild that morning and I wasn't appropriately attired.  We went to Patagonia and I bought a long john top and bottom set which I put on in the store, right over the shirt and tights I was already wearing.  Then, we went into Fluevog just to look around and waste some more time, although James's feet don't like Fluevogs.

And I saw these boots on sale for $99.  I had to borrow cash from James to buy them, and, although I liked them at the time, a big part of the decision was based on being able to wear them out of the store into the cold.

And it's been a match made in heaven ever since.  I love these boots.  They are comfy; they are warm.  They survived Madison, Wisconsin.  They survived the giant puddle on the corner of 168th.  They are cute enough to wear with skirts, but have that brilliant big metal zipper on the side to give them a certain motorcycle toughness.  Like this:

Amber & Due to An Earlier Incident

Just when I thought the MTA had gifted you with all the celebrity, confusing service and squishedness you could handle for a weekend, I rode the train on a Saturday.  Silly rabbit.

The purpose of my journey was to pick up my first CSA winter share of the season and then celebrate the season in fellowship with Diana and Kevin.  To begin my trek, I walked down to 168th Street since it was posted in my stop that the train wasn't going north of there this weekend (which turned out to be false-- at least on my way home).

At 168th Street, there was a bulldozer driving up and down the train platform and then crossing over a make-shift bridge and unloading boulders onto a weird flat train.  This was an ominous start to what turned out to be a two hour ride (including no D service below 34th Street and a stalled A on the F line at Second Avenue).  That is the little bulldozer thing whizzing by on that train unloading thing at seemingly unsafe speeds while I waited for the downtown A.

Then, on the way home from a delightful day (which included beef stew and persimmon pudding), I went to Brooklyn.  There was no D service running from Grand Street, so I walked to the F at Delancey.  But then, there was no uptown F.  So, I had to take the F to Jay Street in Brooklyn to transfer to the uptown A which was running on the F track into Manhattan.  (Maybe you should get out a subway map just to follow along to see what an incredibly indirect route this really was.)

At Jay Street, though, I was rewarded by celebrity in the form of the Kristen Schaal who plays "Mel" on Flight of the Conchords and is a very funny Daily Show commentator.

(I chose the photo with the bird, Diana, since you liked that birdy page in Elle.)

This is Woody and me doing our impression of Kristen and her boyfriend making smoochie on the platform.

Anywhow, then the train came, and Kristen, her boyfriend, and I all got on.  Things were going swell, although mostly local, until 103rd Street when, as the conductor described it, "Something just hit our train."  Note the train did not do the hitting.  Anyhow, we sat on the train with the doors closed until a train crew arrived to check to make sure we hadn't run anyone over or a terrorist hadn't thrown a sticky bomb (I'm picturing a Wacky WallWalker with a dirty bomb in its backpack?) at us.


Once they opened the doors, there was a mass exodus.  But, as the lady next to me said, "How else would I get home?  The bus?  Puhleeze."  We even had one very angry fellow patron yell at us, "What are you bitches doing?  The train is broked.  Get your asses off."  Our decision to wait it out upset him.  But, another train wouldn't come since we were in its way.  And I just am not aggressive to fight an entire train's worth of folks for a spot on an uptown bus.  And who wants to go 70 blocks on a bus?  Puh-leeze.

Anyway, we started moving again after they determined that it was a soda can tossed off the platform at the incoming train.  And then we went express!  Whoooo!

So, two hours and 14 minutes later, I am home.  Still?  The persimmon pudding and the company of friends were worth the over four hours total time spent on trains underground.

Amber & Sure Things

Today is world-famous blogger CRD's birthday. I am so honored to count such a famous journalist and proficient epicurean amongst the joys in my life.

Some little known facts about CRD in honor of his birthday? Sure. For starters, he was born on this day in the wilds of Africa and raised by a pack of elephants.

As a result, he often prefers to roam the desert shirtless, like his in situ family.


Sometimes, his naked elephant nature leads to naked bicycling while painted to remind himself of the African sky.Luckily, for us, Nick found CRD and brought him back to Barcelona civilization with him and his cousins, Kathleen and Grant.


From there, CRD went to London where he got a job as one of those guys who guards the palace, but it didn't last long since he always forgot to wear his uniform.
Nick then talked to his friend Matthew who got CRD a job at The New York Review of Books. Here we are in his cubicle on the day we met!

Some of his positive attributes include, but are not limited to, coming to visit you even when you live in the most godforesaken places.

Listening good when you are telling stories about your cats puking or boring work stuff that makes you angry.
He's a swell friend, as fine a specimen as anyone could ever want, and I love him.


I looooooove you (blink), CRD.

Amber & Summer Fridays

Today feels so, so hard. My neck hurts from hauling around 26 lbs of meat yesterday. It's really, really humid out. I have a TON of work to do. Vacation is just out of reach, but close enough to distract me. And, I forgot to bring the salad I assembled this morning to eat for lunch.

But really, it's almost the weekend, I have some lovely lovey kitties waiting for me at home along with a salad I forgot to bring to work, vacation is right around the corner, and I have a jungle growing on my desk.

Sigh.

Amber & Signage of Mysterious Meaning

Not to totally JD CRD's excellent coverage of Signage of Bafflement, but WTF, management company?

So, let's parse these instructions. If we're being told to either walk our bikes inside or lock them outside, something other than those two options must be happening to necessitate the sign. Are people riding their bikes inside? Or maybe locking their bikes inside? Walking your bike outside seems acceptable, so that's not the instigating issue. Given how narrow the hallway is, I am guessing that people couldn't really ride their bikes into the elevator. But, I'm one those people who can't even ride with no hands.

Then, the addendum to the instructions makes it even more cryptic. Did the courier service in the building get upset, thinking they were falsely accused? Or, are they above the rules? Maybe they can ride their bikes inside? Or lock them inside? And "as per management" refers to what? Is that the signature to let us know who left the sign? Or, maybe they are above the rules as per management?

What a baffling start to my work day.

Amber & Clutter

I made a resolution yesterday. It was formulated as such. "I am going to get my crap together."

By this generally broad phrase, I meant that I was going to take control of the chaos in my house: cat fur, clutter, simple chores too long neglected, that damn decal for the living room wall, and, most importantly, clutter.

Simply put: I have too much stuff.

Did you ever notice that in those pictures of the nicely organized closets and rooms in and Real Simple and Martha Stewart is Great magazines that the people just don't have very much stuff?


That person, for example, has 8 pairs of shoes, plus two boots, and about six dresses. I wonder what she wears on Sundays. And this person seems to buy everything in twos. Or maybe they have their thin size, and then the same item in their post-cheeseburger size?


Also, all of their clothes always stay within a single color palette.

My goals are far more modest. Now where did I put the trash bags?

Amber & Wheezy Week

It's been an exhausting week, with no time to spare for blogging. Thankfully, CRD has been picking up the slack over at Internals Plural with two blogs post daily.

I haven't been the only one suffering from seasonal allergies. Poor Woody has been a wheezy beast. We saw Schaubhut this morning who confirmed he has been having another bout of kitty asthma. Schaubhut also reports that horses sometimes have asthma, and that they sometimes sneeze. Although my own pet's respiratory distress hurts my heart, theoretical sneezing horses make me giggle.

On the way home, I stopped by the office to get my laptop so I could be productive on my couch. Since the office is pet-friendly, I took the opportunity to let Woody stretch his legs.


He started off by sniffing the entire perimeter.


And then he settled into a spot that allowed him full view of the exits.


Maybe, instead of daydreaming of getting a pug, I should just start pretending Woody is a pug? He's already got the lap thing mastered.

Amber & Sleepiness

I have been having horrible trouble sleeping. I lie down at a reasonable hour, caffeine long behind me, but then I just can't get comfortable. I didn't doze off last night until well after 2 pm, and that was even after I self-medicated. And, of course, self-medication then leads to an inability to function in the morning, such as today when I poured the water into the french press, let it steep, and then realized I hadn't added any coffee.

And, I am still feeling under the weather, although some people are suggesting that it may be allergies.

Days like today make me wish I had a train ride to Trenton.


Only, I would spend less time playing with Photobooth on my laptop and more time following Kevin's lead.

Amber & Flight Cancellations

Due to the winter storm, my flight tomorrow morning has been canceled. Kevin has already moved onto a later flight, but, mysteriously, I remain on hold with Delta, listening to the most mellow mix ever. I get the feeling they want me very calm when I finally get through. I wonder if that works for them.

The universe sometimes balances itself. For example, if I had to be on old for two hours and still get on a plane tomorrow at 8:30 from JFK, I would be worried about finishing packing. But, since I know the earliest flight I can get on is at 4:45 pm tomorrow (the one Kevin is on), I know I have plenty of time to finish packing.

I am usually very good at packing, but there have been some delays tonight, named Pickles and Tiggy.
Like my new bag? I am really into that "grass green." It matches the cat grass and Pickles's eyes.

Amber & Watermelon Cats We Know

It would seem that people are not the only animals pondering the nature of the relationship between cats and watermelons. Cats are confused, too!

CRD pondered the relationship here, and then I did further research into whether watermelons are the cats' best friends or worst enemies. James took this photo of Baby Scarlett looking baffled by her watermelon companion.

Clearly, Baby S. saw this LOLcat and wanted to test the affinity herself.


Oh the mystery! I think Baby S. was unconvinced.

Amber & Hero Wars

It's hard when your philosophical or spiritual parents fight. Like when Pappa Noam Chomsky says that Koko doesn't really have language because she has no grammar and Dr. Penny says she does because she is communicating complex thoughts through repetitive symbols.

I'm caught in the middle of an argument, and I think I'm going to hide in my room. Dr. Temple Grandin says that a big reason that kitties' emotions are hard for us to read is because they don't have eyebrows like dogs do. James says they do. And, he has even named a day after them. Mark your calendars for Kitty Eyebrows Day, celebrated on June 8. As James describes....

"This is very special day of kitty mystery when every year since 2006 we celebrate kitty eyebrows."

Who's right?