Recently I’ve realized that people treat the subway like they’re in the privacy of their own home. They sing out loud along to their ipod as if they’re the next American Idol, when in reality they sound more like the American Idol rejects. I don’t understand why people feel the need to subject me to their tone-deafness.

Then there’s the eating. People sit down and begin to munch on food like they’ve just been seated in a restaurant. I’ve seen a variety of snacks – yogurt, apples, Popsicles. I try to be understanding like, they’ve been so busy throughout the day they haven’t had a chance to eat, or they have a medical condition that requires them to eat now. But when people pull out the Big Macs and fries and apple pies from McDonalds, I’m like, wtf you can’t wait until you get home? The most impressive (and annoying) was a guy who managed to eat soup and a sandwich (at the same time) while he stood on the train. He happened to be standing right next to me and all I could think was that his soup was inches from spilling on me.

Then there’s the sleeping. The only time I’ve come close to nodding off on the train was when I was on my way home after a night of drinking at 4 in the morning. I guess the reason the sleeping bothers me so much is because I always get stuck next to a sleeper on the train in the morning. Their heads nods to the side closer and closer to my shoulder and then jerk back up when the train comes to a stop. Sometimes the jerk up doesn’t happen and I’m stuck with someone passed out on my shoulder until I wiggle around enough that they wake up.

I’ve written before about people choosing to perform personal activities on the subway, but I felt the need to rant a little more. I sincerely hope I never have to experience people using the train as a toilet or for their sexual needs. I can only take so much.

food, mta, rants | 2 Comments »

So my three cats moved from my mom’s house in PA to my new apartment in NY about a week and a half ago. I haven’t lived with them since I left for college and recently my mom started threatening that if I didn’t take them, she’d find them “another home.” Is that like when you tell little kids that Fluffy is just at kitty sleep-away camp? I guess she got tired of me bringing cats home and then peacing out.

Anyways, sometimes I look around my place and think, holy shit there are cats everywhere. I started thinking how many more cats I have than anything else in my apartment: more cats than humans, more cats than tv’s, more cat furniture than people furniture. And then: does this make me a cat lady? I can’t be dubbed a cat lady at 24 years old. It would only be downhill from here; that means by the time I’m 40, I’d have like 10 cats.

So, to quell my fears (or prove them correct) I did some research on what makes someone a “cat lady”. Also sometimes prefaced by “crazy”. I googled “cat lady characteristics” and found Wikopedia’s definition. After I read it I was slightly nauseous but very relieved to realize I’m clearly not an animal hoarder. I really thought the article was a joke when they said cat ladies often hoard up to 100 cats, but as I read on I realized it’s a serious problem.

On a lighter note, I stumbled upon The Cat Lady’s column in the NY Post last week which had some interesting statistics. Thirty-nine percent of Americans own dogs and 34% own cats. But the average dog owner has 1.7 dogs while the average cat owner has 3.4 cats. (Yes! I’m .4 of a cat shorter than the rest of American cat owners!)

Although I’m not planning on adding to my collection anytime soon, I have to admit I love coming home to them after work – especially since I live alone. I also like the fact that they’re really weird. And to prove that, I’ve taken some pictures. Zubie has this thing about following me into the bathroom and then jumping in the tub and frolicking around. If I want any privacy, I literally have to run in when he isn’t looking and shut the door. I haven’t done that much since I caught his tail in the door, though.

Oh, and he also like to sit up like a person (always mindful to cover up his kitty parts).

Reesie like to lay like this for hours, paws up like she’s playing dead. I always check to make sure she’s still breathing.

As for the third cat, well, she’s a little self-conscious about her weight. Everytime I take out my camera she runs away. (Seriously though, she’s huge.)

pets | 9 Comments »