My sister's cat

My sister’s cat and I know each other, we shared space back when I lived with my sister. 4 months ago, when my sis had to move away for a month-long stage, I agreed to keep the cat for the month. We’re now 4 months later and the cat is still there and will be here for another 3 months.

I’m cat people. To me, dogs are slutty mutts who’ll give their loyalty to anyone who’d rub them the right way. Nothing so easy when it comes to felines; to have a cat like you takes more than a few rubs and some jumps with a ball. But the cat living with me right now is not mine. We tolerated each other the first time we lived together, and it took darn long before the neurotic beast stopped attacking my ankle when I walked by. Let's just say, the relationship wasn’t warm.

These days though, I’m the only human in her world. I’m the one that feed her, that empties her litter (god she stinks), that blot up her vomit and when she needs affection, I’m the only one she can turn to. Now, she follows me around in the place, she purrs the minute I touch her and sleeps on the other pillow on my bed. When she’s on the sofa, stretches and sees me at the working table, she looks at me with heart shaped eyes. She’s cute and has the vulnerable factor to the 10th (she has arthritis, so she limps when she walks, poor baby) but she’s not my cat. When I pet her, it’s only cursory and I feel bad about it. It like lying to your fuck-buddy, saying “I love you” and see his eyes light up, knowing all the while that it's not true.

I’m only doing projection, I know. The cat doesn’t care a fart about my affection as long as she’s fed and stroked once in a while. Still, I can’t help feeling guilty even if it’s all in my head.

This is me with my sister’s cat. How am I with humans...?

Strange thing is, I’m never that self-second-guessing when I deal with other persons; I expect them to tell me if something’s wrong. It doesn’t happen often, though when it does, it’s usually something about how I’m oblivious. And blunt …heh heh, maybe I should do more second-guessing with people… but honestly? Sometimes it’s hard to be bothered.

This is me in real life. How do I shape the characters when I write…?

They’re always observing and pondering the others’ actions, tone of voice and gleams in the eyes. It’s quite heavy actually, all the second-guessing they’re doing, and rather clumsy. It clutters the action and tells rather than shows, which every writing guide tell me it’s bad bad bad. *sigh* ...when I think about it, a lot of my interactions with others is through people-watching, where everything goes on in my head only... Ha! It's no wonder my character writing goes the same way!

Since I see the trend, I should be able to break it! Woo-hoo! Let’s see how it goes.

(Wow, all this from my sister’s cat. Time to feed the beast.)

People watching

I love people-watching.

People do feel it when someone is staring at them, every time I get too caught up in watching, always the person would turn and look at me. They don’t just raise their eyes, look around and come across my gaze; no, they look up and bam! they’re on to me straight away. The cliché is true, a stare weights.

...or so I thought, until I noticed myself automatically glancing at persons whose faces were turned my way, and concluded our brains were wired for it: oh, there’s this pale blob at the edge of my vision, may be a face looking my way, let’s look, and the eyes obey and 19 times out of 20 there’s a person and that person’s face is turned your way but s/he is not looking at you. And on the 20th time, there's that embarrased jolt that comes with meeting a stranger's eyes full on.

I like to look at people, but to have them look back at me is another matter entirely, so I developed this technique of quick glances. I figured I was okay as long as I didn’t trigger the face-looking-my-way reflex, so I pretend to look around when all the while I’m staring at what I’m interested in.

But since my glasses broke, I keep crossing glance with everyone. It’s much easier to hide a shifty gaze behind glasses, I discovered when I did not have the glasses anymore. That must be why I feel bolder when I wear contacts ---> it’s a side-effect, a survival adaptation to not having a partition between me and the world.

Now, I have to develop a new technique for people-watching. Squint maybe. Or glances from the corner of my eyes (blergh, I hate that expression). Or wear sunglasses the whole day long.

Loose the glasses

I broke my glasses some time ago and I wear my contacts all the time now. I feel bolder with my eyes naked, I feel I throw a challenge to everyone I look at. Meet my stare if you dare!

As a kid, I always went to the optometrist with the hope that, this time, I’d come out wearing glasses. As far as I was concerned, glasses were a must for the face. I outgrew that quickly after getting glasses for real (who doesn't??). These days though, I find it fun being myopic. I can choose between 3 states: with glasses, with contacts, with nothing, and they all come with their own moods.

To go with nothing is an experience of its own – it’s my favourite. I know I won’t be seeing anything, so I don’t try. I just walk around in fuzz, all relaxed, a bit lost, a bit uncertain. And because I can’t go to work like this, it’s a weekend experience; for me it’s related with holidays and taking it easy.

It’s also something the 20/20 visioned individuals won’t be able to live before they hit old age. Ha!

To think that centuries ago, before the use of spectacles was mastered, myopic people went their whole life like this...! Maybe they came to think that this was the world as everybody saw it? ...nah, probably not. They must’ve remembered their youth, when they used to see from afar. And people around them must’ve kept pointing things out:
- Someone is coming... it’s Brother Jehan.
- Brother Jehan? Where?
- Over there.
- Where?
- There! Can't you see him??
- Oh? The moving blob? How do you know it’s Brother Jehan?
- !!!

O-kay. I’d better stop.