Above was actually at Christmas, but the birthday-vibe on my face is the same
Tonight I was just going to listen to some tunes — that amazing tune by Matthew E White (that Conan alerted me to) and muck around writing some more of that Custard tale or maybe a part 4 for the Ric’s epic — but instead I am compelled to write about what just happened.
It is another cat tale — which Red thinks my blog is 90% about — but fuck it.
BUT LET’S JUST SET THE SCENE
Today it’s getting very, very close to my birthday and I kinda get excited about that annual eventuality. Even though every year it gets just that little bit more disappointing, I think I have experienced some quite wondrous birthdays and so even if this year’s is only a fraction of what it felt like then when I was a kid — I will still be pretty damn happy.
And every birthday I do my bestest to regress — I devolve. I slide into my childhood history and live my life briefly just the way it was when I was 10. But crucially it is a mini-life of that 10 year old me — but (seemingly) with all the money in the world and no parentals to tell you otherwise and my own pad and exacerbated with the amazing revelation that is inebriation — which I definitely had no idea was so awesome in year 4. (In saying that I do remember having giggling fits which were pretty close — but random, infrequent and usually ended with my dad screaming at me to calm down.)
And although this might not surprise you — this regression is actually not that different to my everyday life.
Today I took my “big bag” to work. This bag can carry a shit load of stuff and today it needed to. So I went to Mr Toy’s Toyworld and bought 3 sets of LEGO. Admittedly one is for my nephew — but I get to build that for him and he likes to watch, encourage me to keep going and help me find the bits I need to keep building.
These mini LEGO sets are pretty damn cute
BAD JOKE TO A SALESPERSON
Then I went to the ABC shop just across in that top floor of the Myer Centre and did something stupid. I was already looking stupid, carrying a massive plastic bag with the “Mr Toys” logo all over it and LEGO sets bursting out, but then I found a “THE BILL” DVD from 1989 which I absolutely needed and handed that bad boy to a very attractive young bookish woman at the counter — glasses included. Meanwhile I was feeling the opposite of embarrassed. I didn’t care that I was purchasing a $60 set of BILL DVDs that equated to almost 1600 minutes of awesomeness. I was all casual and “totally” but then she said, “You know — I had a friend in school who was obsessed with THE BILL. She would talk about it all the time, she even made herself homemade t-shirts and badges.”
And so I replied, “I think that was actually me.”
WTF?
See I meant it like — I was doing all that obsessive nonsense back in school too. She laughed, but in that, ‘I don’t get it and maybe I don’t get it cause you’re an idiot’ way. And to make matters worse I thought about it as I walked back to the Mall thinking I should have added, “You know — before ‘the operation'” which would have totally made it better. Not.
THIS IS HOW MY DEADSHIT MIND WORKS.
Christ. Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen by just having a good look at how vast this THE BILL collection is. Yeah.
GETTING BACK TO THE SCENE
So I went home lugging all that LEGO and the 8 DVDS in that BILL collection and plus Dee had given me some 2kg filofax to bring home too. And then I stopped at the shop to buy some tallies and then at the Milton Fruit Bowl to buy 2 bucks of unwashed potatoes.
My lungs felt empty as the straps around my chest sucked all the inflation out of my lungs.
ASIDE
This bag has not got much use since this event back in 2010 when I was struck by a car who turned into me to undertake another car turning right and I immediately smashed into the bonnet and got thrown onto the footpath etc. And at the time and days later I couldn’t work out why the centre of my chest hurt so much and then it became clear that it was the buckle on my bag that had smashed into the car first and my chest had smacked in suit and that marriage was naturally not ideal. Seeing all the scratches on the buckle — I really hope that car got really scored-up too cause that driver refused to pay for all the medical bills and damage he did. A very, very weak human being.
OK! TONIGHT
So I was on the couch. I was building some LEGO and my fried eggs and homemade potato chips (tonight’s regression meal) were safely consumed and I was deep into the BILL watching episode 2 and suddenly the cat came home and then instead of waltzing through the bedroom (where her cat door is) she became intrigued by something in the wardrobe there. She was sniffing around and climbing over stuff and being generally photogenic.
Check out my “Cook suck” adventure below:
Eventually Dee and I got curious and just thought the cat was exhibiting her usual random hilarity — and with my camera in tow I moved the clothes-basket she was enormously interested in and saw behind was a massive, wholly living rat. I screamed to Dee, “There’s a rat!” Before she could say, “Is it dead?” I said, “It’s ALIVE!” And she screamed and escaped into the living room slamming the bedroom door behind her.
So it was me, the cat and the rat. I was determined to free the animal, but how? I shouted to Dee to get me plastic bags and some socks (which I might use to protect my hands). I was already a bit wary of rabies — having had all those bat issues — so my mind just got grappled with the prospect of dealing with another scratchy, potentially rabid, wild animal. Yay.
And for once I tried to get the cat to help me. But in that process I think I might have accidentally knocked her nose. So she thought she was in trouble. I tried my best to re-assure her, but she just hid under the bed. Actually maybe she was frightened of this massive rodent.
Then I forced the rat out of its hide and it went behind a dresser. And the cat was suddenly in the game again and cutting it off at the other end and when I shifted the dresser — some flurry of movement happened. While I was thus distracted I assumed the rat had just found the way outside (that cat-door-gap under the bedroom window). And so Dee came in and we were all “phew” but then I saw the cat still a bit interested in what was behind that dresser and I got down on my side and looked a bit closer and realised there was a big fat space for the rat to hide in underneath.
More hilarity insured and involved me slashing a drum-stick around — but luckily it led to the cat chasing the rat off into the backyard — I knew this cause the crashing sounds in the front yard could only mean this one thing. When it seemed she had discovered the rat’s hiding place I tried to distract the cat with cheese so the rat could escape but I don’t know how successful I was. We shall see.
For once I think this animal made it’s own way into our house — apart from the many other times the cat has brought friends home.
EEK. 
DJ GLAD RAPPA 