is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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The Eight Stages of Danger: A Guide to Hans Blix. Plus: Men Who Buy Lunch!
The Eight Stages of Danger: A Guide to Hans Blix. Plus: Men Who Buy Lunch!
Today Hans Blix is stalking the fuck out of me. I'm sitting here trying to write my paper (almost done! almost done!), and right now he is, for the fifth time in the last few hours, in what I like to call "stage 4." His paw is on my arm as I type. Doesn't that sound cute? Adorable? IT IS NOT.
Stage 1: Intently staring at me from a distance.
Stage 2: Intently staring at me from close-up.
Stage 3: Meow!
Stage 4: Puts one paw on some part of my body.
Stage 5: Licks me.
Stage 6: "Rests" teeth on my flesh.
Stage 7: Ears go back. Sometimes accompanied by crazed whiny meow.
Stage 8: Becomes vicious wild animal out for blood.
At about stage 5 I usually grab a pillow and put it between us. Then he gets very very angry and runs away for awhile. After sulking, he starts over again. Why does he behave this way? Let us recall that I did not adopt him until he was four years of age, so who knows what kind of torture his poor kitty soul underwent before then. But he seems to require CONSTANT attention, so if the bird toy is not flying, or if there is no one currently available to PET HIM WHILE HE EATS, he begins to suspect that he might not be the king of the world. And that makes him cranky. You know how it is.
Luckily, he only bites me. To my friends he is a little angel. Except for that one time he bit Marilyn, and the times he has tried to bite Colleen. Luckily Colleen is a horse whisperer, and knows how to read the minds of insane cats, so she discovered the way to avoid getting one's skin pierced by his razor-sharp tooth-talons. What you have to do is this: instead of pulling away when he bites you, you push forward deeper into his mouth. That confuses him and he runs away.
Right now he is sitting across the room, on a chair, staring at me intently.
In brighter news, yesterday Richard was in town for 12 hours and he bought me lunch. As we were walking down the street I said, "hey, do you like my new pink boots? have you seen them yet?" He said: "I'm not sure. I think I lost count of your shoes like five years ago." Then I subjected him to a series of Billy-Blanks-style airpunches up next to his head, while jumping up and down in a boxer's stance. We split pizza and Mahi-Mahi at Chow. He ordered a Diet Coke because he thinks I'm fat.
Today my dad bought me lunch. He also ordered a Diet Coke. He was very excited because he just bought a new guitar at a guitar show last weekend, and then also got a delivery of a custom-made guitar that some guy in Oregon made. Apparently this guy has a huge stock of 100-year old swamp ash, a kind of wood that is good for making guitars? Let me tell you, I learned A LOT today. I even tried to memorize the kinds of guitars we were talking about so I could tell Mr. Perrone about them, but right now I think I've already forgotten. 1965 Duosonic HooHaw Fender JabberMeow? To be used for open "G" tuning? It's funny how hard it is to remember something phrased in a terminology with which you are unfamiliar. Like if I asked any of you to remember a line from this paper I am writing.... How about this one: "Levinas uses the figure of the third party to describe the emergence out of the diachronous non-place of unlimited responsibility into the legalized justice of neutral institutions." What? No wonder I take so many naps!
Anyway, it was good to have lunch over the past two days with two of my favorite members of the male side of the human species! Both days I was able to get work done all afternoon without despairing over the constant fight between my growling stomach and my laziness with regard to producing foods that aren't called dessert or breakfast. That reminds me that there is still nectarine-blueberry pie in the kitchen!
Blix has already moved into Stage 6.
2:39 p.m. - August 06, 2004
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