Featured Blog, I: Cat Scans
The Max Seduction
Halfway Down the Danube /May 9, 2006
Two weeks after the typhoon, the whole thing was just getting totally intolerable. I mean, he just kept looking right THROUGH me. Wouldn't let me near him, wouldn't let me touch him. Wouldn't sleep with me anymore... he'd still sleep on my bed, but only during the day when I was out. Spent his nights in the guest bedroom. Spent a lot more time than usual wandering the neighborhood, too... he actually got into a fight, his first in months (probably with his archenemy, The Evil Orange Cat). And now and then, if I tried particularly hard to attract his attention, he'd shoot me these brief looks of utter contempt... you know, like "I KNOW I'm compelled to share my living space with you, but MUST you be such a loud, tacky, vulgar, uncouth... human?"
In a proper seduction, timing is everything. Timing, and patience, and careful preparation. And knowing the weak spots of the object of your seduction. Max has three. One is obvious as soon as you look at him: good food. He didn't reach 18 pounds plus by being finicky. Max likes eating. The second is catnip.
The third is the sweet spot where his spine makes a right angle at the base of his tail. Short-circuits his brain somehow, that does -- scratch him there for ten seconds, and he trembles, his mouth hangs open, his eyes glaze over, he starts to drool uncontrollably and make strange little percolator noises, and then, more often than not, he'll just collapse on his side, feet sticking straight out, gasping for a belly rub.
But this trick would only work after a good ten seconds of scratching -- not possible while he kept running away from me.
And he had ignored catnip and open cans of Friskies Gourmet, and was still ignoring them. But then, perhaps these were too... obvious. Perhaps some subtlety was called for. And combining the various weak spots together. So...
The first thing I did was shift cat foods. Normally I feed them three or four different kinds -- cheap dry, good dry, fancy-schmansy dry, wet -- more or less at random from day to day, to add a little variety to their lives. But now I shifted to the cheap dry and stayed with it for several days. This brought complaints at first, then an increasing tendency to leave the bowl full while either coming to head-butt and beg for something better (Momo) or becoming ever frostier and more aloof (Max). After a couple of days of this, they were both becoming distinctly peckish.
Then I went and bought some ice cream.
Step two required some patience, waiting for the right moment. It came on Friday afternoon. Read the rest at Halfway Down the Danube...
Featured Blog, II: Traditional Indiscretion
Aranyi/One Voice, Many Worlds, May 10, 2006
So... I've been thinking, and hence being depressed and not writing much because i haven't really come to any sort of conclusion. About the ridiculou (though reasonable) farce that is arranged marriage and the way in which it is taken so seriously (of course, it's a question of life), when all one would wish to do if one actually stopped and looked at oneself from outside would be to laugh uncontrollably.
I've gone through the range of questions umpteen times before - hobbies, interests, education, college experiences, daily schedule, likes/dislikes/obssessions/pet peeves, level of conservativism, things expected out of partners, political and religious interests, food habits, past relationships, favourite colours, you name it. The answers are varied to say the least - in terms of interest and originality. But one question that always shocks and annoys me is the variations along the line that shocked the nation by Preity Zinta in Dil Se
"Are you a virgin?" And I think people were even more shocked when she had indirectly stated that she wasn't.
I remember naughtily asking my boyfriend at the time. I was a precocious yet naive 16, fresh out of school, ready for the world, and saucy as all hell. He laughed and looked at me indulgently and told me, as though he were revealing a great secret, that he had been saving himself for his wife. I was quite surprised.
Even though no one really trained me to think in a particular way (and that's probably why), Ive never particularly equated sexuality with morality, unless it has to do with infidelity. For some odd reason I always wanted my husband to NOT be a virgin, just so he would know what he was doing, and BOTH of us wouldnt be shy and awkward and fumbling. So he would make me feel at ease and answer my questions and the whole process of exploring previously foreign terrain would be as landmine-free as possible. Someone who actually bloody knew where the vagina and clitoris were and knew that women had 3 little holes down there. Someone who wouldnt be freaked out by periods and wouldn't mind us hanging out in the bathroom together. Someone who wouldnt be straitlaced and immature basically.
And i dont know why I had all of this thought out. Or why I wasn't concerned with virginity being a major issue that has been known to make or break a marriage. But i certainly could never see why a past I had nothing to do with should affect me, unless the guy i am to marry has a disease or AIDS or something of course. Hence the surprise when my boyfriend at the time acted all coy (like a girl) as if it was some big virtue on his part. Was I supposed to be grateful? Did that mean he had better values than me or something? Socially sanctioned values perhaps. Read the rest at One Voice, Many Worlds...