Amber & The Pursuit of Happy Face

I know I love dancing.  But, now I know that everyone around me knows exactly how much I love it because this is what my face looks like when I boogie.

How does J. Timberlake make bringing sexy back look so, well, sexy?

All I can say is thank you to those who dance with me.  You are brave, brave souls.

And also, if that face is the price I pay for happiness, so be it.  I'll be good.

Amber & Good Ridiculous vs. Bad Ridiculous

What incredibly ridiculous reason could make me go out in the middle of a blizzard to see my doctor, 150 blocks away?

 

Face shingles.

If it crosses that line, I need to have my doctor paged.  Eye danger!

Ridiculous.  But here's some ridiculous in a good way for balance.

Eyeballs of both kinds of ridiculous, herewith.

Amber & Action Shot

Ginger, grooming my hair.

 

Also pictured: my Hello Kitty pjs, sickie me, and bed head.

Amber & Musical Surprises

So, I was suprised when iTunes announced that, after the Soothing Cat Music album selections and the Ocean Waves background sounds, this is my favorite song ever.



(I absolutely do not think those are the right lyrics.)

I had expected maybe some Kate Bush?  Or "Pictures of You," or that M.I.A. song that I had on repeat for like two days?



Now, it is true that I do add that song to almost every playlist. And that when it comes on, I can't not sing along.  I just can't help myself, even if I look like a crazy person on the A train.  So, yes, I guess it is my favorite?  But it's also true that I never, ever recorded myself singing it.



So really, can my love for the song be THAT deep?

Amber & Pica Pooja

Today is the very special celebration of Pica Pooja, on which we contemplate and take lessons from the myriad qualities contained in the small kitty of Pickles.  "Pica" is the avatar of Pickles we recognize when he is sleeping in a small and curly ball.  But we know, even then, that he has a mighty mew inside him, ready to call for more play and joy in the world, being, as he is, the champion of fun and fleece wand.

Pica Pooja actually begins with the brother, Ginger, waking us by ritually grooming our hair with his tongue.  No one is a bigger devotee of Pickles than Ginger.

Later, there will be playful brother wrestling with feats of strength like Head Banging on Floor Loudly and Kicka Kicka Kicka, but the morning starts out slow with a plate of wet food, sprinkled with Pickles Powder.  As we sprinkle the Pickles Powder on the food, we are reminded that all kitties have special needs but some kitties have more special needs than others, and we say "Bam!" to remember the shock we had when we got the vet bills from Pickles's most special hospital pilgrimage.

And tonight, the celebration will really kick into high gear with many, many enrichments.  We may do Treats in Open Envelopes, or Treats Hidden Under Dixie Cups, or Treats Stolen While Taking them Out of the Bag Because Somebody with Curly Fur Is Too Impatient.

Pickles fur reminds us, again, to experience joy.  The hair could grow in straight lines, but it chooses instead to take a more circuitous route, to stop and form curls around the roses.

And Pickles reminds us that the highest form of love of the self and life is loving others, including those who are baby and needy.  We could, for example, spend more time painting our toe nails or ironing shirts, but isn't it ultimately more rewarding--and enjoyable for ourselves--to instead run back and forth through the house with the fleece wand, hiding behind doorframes and ducking beside the bed.  Doesn't that bring rewards that are many, many times beyond?

Amber & Totally, Like Fer Shur

I just rewatched Valley Girl.  I really enjoyed it, mostly because* I remembered how much I had wanted to share a coke with Nicolas Cage and his amazing, amazing hair.  And how pretty Gunne Sax blouses were.

That was 27 years ago.  And this song still makes me, well, melt.



*Full disclosure: I am on muscle relaxants for a frozen shoulder.  And I didn't sleep at all last night. But I am sure that has nothing to do with my film taste.

Amber & Six Things At 6 am

1.  What can possibly happen when you are on bed rest and leave your chewy beast alone with two rolls of paper towels?

Shreddy mayhem.  What are those blurs under the drying rack?  Why that is Ginger and Woody rolling around with crazy head in piles of shreds.

2.  Not being as active as I usualy am, I was thrilled to discover this use of my skills while prone.

I am going to excel at this.  I wonder how to interpret Mrs. Tiggy Winkle while asleep.  I bet Miss Tiggy Winkle can help me.

3.  Why am I craving a chili dog at 6 am?

(Photo of my hertiage food, a Capitol Lunch dog, by Candice)

4.  Who knew some kitties had boggled eyes?

5.  What did we do when we had insomnia before LOLcats?

6.  Remember when we went to the River House last year and Pickles was the bravest and came outside to explore before any of the other cats?  Think he'll be that brave again this year?

Amber & At A Loss

I cannot even begin to understand, explain, or look away from this.



I can't even begin to wonder how Kirk found this.

Amber & They Grow Them Big

Earlier today, a professional colleague sent this photographic evidence that the diet of sour dough bread really spurs growth in the pigeons in San Francisco.

That pigeon is practically man-sized. Maybe I need to worry less about the ape revolution and more about a winged rebellion?  It has happened before, after all...  and near San Francisco, no less.

Think feathered friends are just too small to be menacing?  Just ask 'Tippi' Hedren what it's like to be smooched in an unfriendly way by a seagull.  (Especially if that seagull is a smoker.)

Still not convinced beaked buddies are your worst nightmare?  Watch the darn movie.  Or just watch this quick summary in less than two minutes.

Amber & Hair Wisdom

A wise person encouraged me to wash my hair less often, only they never warned me that doing so would make my hair behave in wild, loopy, random ways that I never expected.  I share my solution with you:  headbands.

Sure, my hair still is insane and out of control, but now I'm like, "What?  Crazy hair?  Sure.  But I have a headband."  It's like how someone I know explained Lady Gaga distracts us with outfits to make us forget she has no talent.

Amber & Also? This

The latest recent, but not very recent, discovery I made thanks to CRD and the annual playlist he xmas gifts unto me.



It seemed to go with the butterfly.  And I totally want a laser hat and matching gloves.  I wish I had made that video.  I kind of do, often alone in my living room.

Amber & Don't Read Too Much Into It

Last night, I had a dream that I went to See John Cleese who was busking in Washington Square Park.

He recognized me from an episode of Murder She Wrote and came over to talk to me.  I told him my hobby was my desktop rock garden.

He said he thought that was a boring hobby with no future and should take up the cymbals.

I thought that was good idea, but was worried about where I would practice since Sake Hausman was sleeping.

And then this guy was there.

And then I woke up.  Or did I?

Amber & Games We Play

Today, Woody and I tried combining our two favorite games: Fleece Wand and Sheet Tent.  To play, Woody went into the Sheet Tent and then I would flick the Wand just outside the main entrance to the Tent.  My buddy then darts out from his hidey place and grabs the wand, thusly:

Next, crazy head and tugging ensues.

This was great fun, and Ginger wanted to be involved.  That seemed fine with Woody: Ginger would stick his paw near the edge of the tent, and Woody would reach out and swat it.

This was another five minutes of kitty Play and Seeking Emotions, exactly what Dr. Temple Grandin would prescribe.

But then, Woody got overstimulated and lunged out of the tent.

This broke the rules as understood by Ginger.  There was a threatening posture on the back of the couch, followed by a Woody growl and a retreat back into the tent.

And thus ended Sheet Scurry.  I can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday evening.  Or to use an unwashed brand new sheet.

Amber & Merry-Go-Round

Some days are hard, and you are very tired at the end of them.  And Pickles still wants to play fleece wand.  And you think you just can't because you're so tired, but then you do.

(Give it a second to load.)



And that jolly feeling you get was completely worth the effort.

Amber & The Tragedy of Winter

I like winter.  At least when it's cold I can bundle up; there's not much you can do during the hottest days of summer and not get arrested, really.  And I like puff coats, and boots, and wool socks, and hand-knit scarves.  It's a good fashion season for me, maybe because it's so covering.

Plus, if you live in New York, as I do, there's not much use in wasting energy hating the seasons.  They come.  And, they go.  Sunrise, sunset.

But, it sure is hard on my hair.

It's mostly a bummer because my hair is just starting to get flippy again, and I know CRD will never get to see it as long as the weather necessitates wearing a hat.  CRD loves flippy almost as much as he loves girl detectives.

Did you ever notice how unsymmetrical my eyes are?  I sure just did.

Amber & Gifts for the Little Guys

We here at Amber & aren't really doing much holiday shopping this year. Thankfully, my friends and I have exchanged the greatest gift of all: not exchanging gifts so that we can avoid that big ugly boot of capitalism stomping all over our mid-winter spirits. But, there are some small gifts that need to be given for those too small to understand that Santa can still love them without forking over presents.  I mean, of course, cats.

Here at Amber &, we recommend Dr. Earl S. Pussum's Fancy Feline Elixir Organic Catnip.  Now, not all cats love catnip, but if they are genetically disposed to love it, they will really, really love Dr. Pussum's.

I promise. Santa came a little early over the weekend to our house, mainly because Pickles was mewing for play and I was stuck in bed with a cold-ridden head that felt like it weighed a ton.  The jolly fellow of the North brought four sacks of Dr. Pussum's one for each monster in my house.

Woody chose to use his as a pillow, because, well, he's an old guy who likes to nap.  Notice the one eye watching me to make sure my photography doesn't disturb his rest?

Tiggy is under the bed with hers.  And Ginger is up on top of the dresser with his.  I guess neither of them wants their moments of pleasure documented.

Pickles, however, took a far more traditional, and yet predictably Pickles, approach to his Dr. Pussum's sack: trying to bite off one of the corners and spill the contents all over my bed.

He's demonstrating his special skill of biting and licking at the same time.  And here, he is showing classic Crazy Head.

When I write my encyclopedia of cat care, that photo will be used to illustrate the Crazy Head entry.

Note the back foot action as I play tug of war.  That's my boy.

Dr. Pussum's, I tell you.

Amber & The Sunday News

So, it snowed.  Those people who say things about weather said it was going to, and it really did.

The prediction was for between 4 and 18 inches-- allowing for a pretty ridiculously wide margin of error, proving that meteorology is not a real science (like dentistry and veterinary medicine and especially veterinary dentistry).  They hit the mark here at the top of Manhattan; the National Weather Service reported 6 inches just to my north in Inwood.  Sure looks about right.

In the quest for wet food for Woody, I ventured out early enough to bring back some virgin snow from the railing for kitties to play with.

I brought it in and put it on a baking sheet on the floor.  The big cats were uninterested, but the little guys sniffed and swatted and licked and had crazy head.  I even threw a snowball at Pickles!  (He fell over trying to bite it off his own head.)

I like the snow.  It's super grounding and pretty.  It makes me smile at strangers.  It also gives me a chance to amortize the value of my Wisconsin boots.

With my booted feet and purple puff coat, all I needed was the red flag to help me cross the street and it would be just like Wisconsin.  Except better.

Amber & Unknowing

CRD's post today features The Best Film Ever Made. I was so overcome by the genius of it, that I was sunk into the depths of ennui myself, knowing that I could never know the inner workings of Woody's brain or what he smells on the breeze, or what Tiggy was really thinking when in the midst of crazy head.

I will never know the truth of Kitty Mystery. I am lost in the Cloud of Unknowing.

Or maybe I just have a sinus infection.

Amber & Crazy Head

For years, I have been trying to document the phenomenon of Crazy Head, that state of kitty play where kitty fantasy takes over and the kitty's body acts in response to the imaginary stimuli of kitty make-believe. But, like a sasquatch, Crazy Head is tough to catch on film. The very act of taking the photo pulls the kitty out of Crazy Head and back into the real world.

Woody was deep in Crazy Head, attacking my hand and the sheets and rolling around when I snapped this shot. Magically, all of the signs of Crazy Head are gone: no pushed back ears, no wide eyes, no jerky head movements, no wild and jittery scampering.


This one of Tiggy is slightly better. You can at least see her ears back, and the intensity of her gaze. But there's no sense of the angular contortions associated with the state of Crazy Head.


Jimmy comes the closest in this shot. The ears are back, her gaze is intent, she's obviously attacking the banana with ferocity. But still, the essential-- well-- craziness of Crazy Head is just missed.


Do you have documentary evidence of Crazy Head? If so, e-mail me and I'll post them.