Queen and Latifa

I may not always agree with his politics, but Steve Tierney is a friend and I enjoy reading his lively blog. He is a fellow geek and Conservative Councillor. The focus of his blog is politics, but he also indulges in other topics (such as geekery). He is also a particularly brave chap inasmuch as he asked a Liberal Democrat to write a guest post on his Conservative blog. I thought that this was admirable, and an interesting concept. Guests posts are an interesting idea at the best of times, but guest posts from someone that isn't obvious is a great idea. 

This got me thinking, I'd like the occassional guest poster too - both obvious choices and more unusual choices like the Liberal Democrat on Steve's blog. Perhaps someone who is a 'dog person'? Or a self-confessed cat hater? Maybe someone who works with cats or other animals?

Any guest post would have to be loosely linked (and it can be very loose) to either kitties or gayness, but if you're up for it, why not get in touch? Please contact me with your concept for a guest post if you're interested.  

Cheers,

M x

There's an old cliché that pets start to resemble their owners...

I am blessed with a metabolism that means that whatever I eat, I don't get fat. I can be incredibly unfit (and I currently am, unfortunately), but I never get a tum or weigh much more than 11 stone. I've been warned that it'll catch up with me, and I'm sure it will, but 31 years and counting, it hasn't yet. If I did put on weight, my opinion would probably be different to what I'm about to express, but I don't see the point of a culinary indulgence if you're going to debase it! As such, I always have full fat cheeses/ spreads, fizzy drinks, chocolate products, etc. As far as I'm concerned, it's not an indulgence if you actually think about the bad stuff: that ruins the pleasure one gains from the indulgence.

The reason for the title of this blog is that I often say something that borders on a catchphrase when challenged about my fizzy drink choices: "I don't do diet." This is in reference to the fact that I'd rather have a glass of water over a glass of Diet Coke. If I'm going to have Coca-Cola, I want Coca-Cola, not wishy washy, flavourless, gassy Diet.

Turns out that the diva kitty has a very similar attitude. She loves cow milk, and if I ever leave a glass of milk unattended, she's there like a shot lapping it up. But as we know, cow milk is bad for kitty cats and she really shouldn't be drinking it, but special cat milk is okay. As such, being the doting queen that I am, I generally have a stock of cat milk in to give to my princess. The thing is, if I put down a bowl of cat milk, she treats it with disdain! She'll play at it and, more often than not, will eventually drink it over a day, but she has nothing resembling the gusto for cat milk that she does for cow milk.

So there you go, like her queeny owner/ housekeeper, the diva don't do diet!

M x

Does anyone remember Swizzels Fizzers?

For those of you that didn't grow up in the 80s, these sweets were particularly popular in Britain during that period. They are fizzy, slightly chalky sweets that, as a kid, I was particularly fond of. As is somewhat common amongst most thirty somethings, for me, 80s retro is a guilty pleasure and a special indulgence. As such, when I saw a big pack of Swizzels sweets (predominantly full of stuff, such as Fizzers, that I would personally consider 80s sweets) in Sainsburys the other day, I added it to my basket on a whim.

So there I was later that evening eating from my bag of retro sweets including such classics as Drumsticks, Mr Chews, and Fizzers, and as is 'Tifa's norm, when she saw I was eating, she wanted some. So up she comes, meowing and tromping all over my lap, begging for people food. She will leave cat food for hours on end before eating it, but as soon as there is an opportunity for people food, she all over you, begging for some.

In the past, 'Tifa has enjoyed, amongst many others, cheddar, Fray Bentos pie, pate, fish fingers, and lasagne. She has rejected, amongst many other things, chocolate, haribo, and pineapple after giving them a try. So to get rid of her, I put a fizzer in front of her, knowing that she wouldn't like it given her track record with sweet things. And as usual, she gave it a quick, cautionary, taster lick. It turns out that the diva kitty wasn't quite ready for fizziness on her tongue, and she pulled a hilarious scrunged up face, whacked the offending fizzer across the room, scowled at me, and darted off.

It's rare I get one up on my cat, and I know I should have felt guilty for inflicting freakout fizzy tongue on my poor unsuspecting princess, but I did laugh! Poor 'Tifa!

M x

I'm dead chuffed!

It's something that I've wanted to do for a while, but this was my first opportunity to attend the training: I am now officially an RSPCA Volunteer Home Visitor. I have a certificate, and everything!

My new volunteer work isa vital part of the adoption process for rescue cats from the RSPCA. I have opted not to do other animals as I'm not really aware of the issues involved with animals other than cats, but it is possible to be a home visitor for any rescue animals. I am responsible for going to potential new owners' homes and assessing whether they'll be appropriate owners for the cat that they want. I remember Beth, the Home Visitor who came to my flat, being particularly lovely: you're there not to just check that everything is appropriate there for the people to become pet owners, but also to offer advice that the potential new owners might need. If the people pass, you then subsequently do a second visit to check that the kitty has settle in and that everything is okay for both the people and the kitty.

It's an opportunity for me to give something back to the wonderful people whom I got 'Tifa from. It's also an opportunity for me to meet many, many kitties! Hooray!

If anything interesting arises from any of my home visits, I'll be sure to post something on Q&L!

M x

That's 'Batchelor of Arts', not 'Bad Attitude' (although oftentimes she can be accused of the latter)...

I was recently made aware of a BBC documentary that managed to register a cat as hypnotherapist. This got me thinking deliciously childish thoughts: what could I register 'Tifa as or get her qualified in? What mailing lists could I get the diva kitty to join? A friend of mine went through a particularly fruity stage of joining as many mailing lists as humanly possibly and making up the most ridiculous names possible (I'm sure I remember Barbara Smellipoo being one of them) and seeing if bands/ cluns/ etc would notice or not and send information to his parents home.

So, if I actually get off my backside and bother to do this (a la wanting to make 'Tifa an official lolcat and/ or launch a Q&L webcomic), I shall post up what qualifications I've gained for the diva kitty or what associations I've managed to join on her behalf. Or, as I suspect is likely, it'll remain a mildy amusing, silly thought...

M x

A week ago, I mentioned that I was contemplating getting rid of 'Tifa's basket in favour of an exercise bike. Well, this is a follow up to that particularly life changing entry to this blog.

I couldn't quite bring myself to do it: it was 'Tifa's basket, however indifferent she had been to it. She's my princess and I dote upon her, and I couldn't quite bring myself to remove her basket. Surely all cats need a basket? I did, however, decide that the exercise bike definitely needed to be in the front room to coerce me into doing some form of exercise ever: it was my motivational tool to get myself out of the rut that is me being the least fit that I have been in my entire life. So I had a reshuffle, and managed to just about fit the various items I have in the front room allowing for the addition of the exercise bike without the removal of the basket. It's a bit cluttered and somewhat garish, but then, I've always been told that my flat is 'very me', so I guess it's just a little bit more like me than ever.

I was cynical as to her ever using the basket. Then suddenly, for seeminly no reason, she was constantly sat in it! I was stunned. She suddenly loves that basket, and has officially added it to her favourite places within my (her) home: end of bed, computer chair, Mark's lap, left hand side of the sofa, behind the telly, and now, basket. Madness!

Then I realised. The new basket location is next to the radiator. And it happened to be moved there on the same day as I switched the heating on. Diva kitty likes the snuggley warmth! What's the betting she becomes indifferent to the basket again next summer?

Oh, and I still haven't had a go on the exercise bike...

M x

'Tifa has recently developed a particularly bad habit - naughty diva!

As I've mentioned previously, once I've gone to bed and am asleep, she likes to snuggle up to me and go to sleep herself. Almost without fail, I wake up the following morning with a kitty in my lap. However, sometimes I might not sleep in my own bed for whatever reason, and 'Tifa has made it quite clear that she does not appreciate it. The last few times that I've come home the morning after staying over somewhere else, she has meowed hostiley and given me a bop on the ankle. I feel a little like Andy Capp being admonished by Flo! It's almost like she's saying "And where have you been?!"

Mean, yet cute and amusingly divaish: pretty much parr for the course with my Princess, then?

Have fun,

M x 

It's not quite the epic battle that was the cinematic event of Mega Shark V Giant Octopus (magnificently schlocky and hilariously bad pure entertainment by the way), but there is a battle going on in the Q&L household!

The diva kitty does not use her basket. Seriously, even after a liberal spraying of catnip, she's not even remotely interested in the basket. She likes to sleep on the sofa or on me when I'm asleep in bed. She likes to sit behind the telly or on the computer chair. No basket interest whatsoever.

But surely every cat needs a basket?

So here's the thing: I horde. I have lots of stuff and refuse to throw stuff away. Despite the generous proportions of my 60s council flat in comparison to the majority of modern flats, and due to my incredible amounts of stuff, space is at a premium in chez Q&L. My bedroom is horribly cluttered, and one of the main culprits of clutterage is the exercise bike that I don't use because it's under a pile of things that I haven't been bothered to put on ebay (that and I'm incredibly lazy). It would make a significant differance if I were to move the exercise bike out of the bedroom, and I might even used the blooming thing if it guilts me every time I go into my living room.

But is it mean to replace the cat's basket with an exercise bike? Am I a bad person for even contemplating this?

M x

I'm never really without inspiration for ideas for this blog, but sometimes cute or funny things that the diva kitty does don't seemingly warrant a blog to themselves. I'm sad enough to keep a notebook of ideas for blogs next to my computer, and going through the list, there's a number of ideas that, whilst they might not perhaps warrant a whole blog to themselves, they're worth mentioning in a compilation.

When 'Tifa sees that I have cat treats for her, she runs around in circles excitedly and meows. I hold back sometimes just to watch her. I wonder if she notices the huge grin she evokes from me every time she does this.

Whatever the food is, if I'm eating it, 'Tifa wants some. She normally behaves though because she's worked out that if I tell her no and she lets me finish, she'll get some eventually. This does not apply if she can smell that it's fish - she goes nuts, and has to be removed from the room.

Anything that even vaguely dangles: the diva kitty wants to play with it!

'Tifa hates me reading books and magazines in bed and gets terribly jealous. I presume she likes to be able to see my face, and my reading material hides it. As such, she becomes particularly contrary repeatedly headbutting the offending book/ mag making it completely impossible to read.

The diva kitty likes Cheddar and Edam, but doesn't like Stilton or Blackstick Blue.

The diva kitty dislikes it when I'm pottering about the flat doing various things. She likes to be able to observe me, and as such prefers me to stay put somewhere for long periods of time. As such, she follows me if I'm pottering and meows her displeasure at me causing her such inconvenience.

Just some random thoughts here - I will probably post similar blogs periodically...

M x 

Okay, here's the thing, for the first time in quite a while I've met a bloke that I like that actually seemingly likes me. It's early days, but he seems like a pretty decent guy, and I fancy him, and want to get to know him better.

I haven't told him about this blog yet.

He's aware that I have a cat, and is aware that she is called Latifa. I've even cracked the lame "I'm the queen; she's Latifa!" joke and he pretended that it was funny. He's not anti-cat per se, but he's not schoolgirl squealy squishy about them like I am.

So here's the problem: when do I tell him about this blog? I'm perfectly aware that it is eccentric to the extreme and can make some people raise a critical eyebrow. He knows I play World of Warcraft, listen to metal music, watch WWE wrestling, go to the speedway, and various other unusual interests, yet I've not told him about the blog. And the main reason is that the last guy I told about it (and gave the website address) went off me in a hurry. I have no idea if this was because I thought I was a nutter for writing a kitty blog, or for another reason, but the doubt is there.

I aint going anywhere. I enjoy writing this blog almost as much as I enjoy spending time with the diva kitty. No man could make me stop writing Q&L, but I do fear that Q&L might stop me dating certain men. But I guess that if a guy can't accept me for the peculiar, eccentric, neurotic, blogger queen that I, he's not the one for me, right?

M x