Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Male broodiness

For what it's worth, I'm not sure if men get broody, but if they do, then HOMSI definitely has a case of male broodiness.

It all started on Sunday, when his neighbour's tabby cat came to visit us. This cat (which I've named Charlie, simply because it's a suitably gender-neutral name and I can't for the life of me figure out if said cat is male or female) is ridiculously friendly and probably falls into the category of "aggressively affectionate". It was sitting on the outside windowsill of HOMSI's place, but as soon as we opened the window, it came inside. What followed was about 20 minutes of head-scratching on our part, and lots of purring from Charlie, who also decided to purr all over HOMSI's couch and stairs, as if to claim them as his/her own. I eventually coaxed Charlie back outside (I was slightly worried that some neighbourhood dispute might arise if HOMSI's neighbours thought we'd stolen Charlie), and he rolled happily in the grass (and then attacked my hand when I tried to tickle his tummy).

Later that evening, when HOMSI was driving me home, we had the following (strange) conversation:

  • HOMSI: I nearly bought a guinea pig today.

  • Me: Why?

  • H: They had them at the Lifestyle Garden Centre and they were cute.

  • M: (containing laughter) Oh. Okay.

  • H: I'm seriously considering getting a cat.

  • M: Why? (while barely able to contain excitement and amusement)

  • H: I don't like coming home to an empty house in the evenings.

  • M: Do you want me to move that ugly cactus that your mom gave you back inside?

The "I don't like coming home to an empty house" part is apparently seriously indicative of broodiness (according to Kath). Since HOMSI has given up trying to get me to move in with him (it would be a ridiculous commute to work), I'm quite excited about the prospect of him getting a cat. HOMSI's garden is quite small, and so he would have to get a small dog. Unfortunately, no "manly" small dogs exist - and the men who own small dogs generally have life partners. HOMSI likes big dogs, like Great Danes and St. Bernards and so toy poms, yorkies and sausage dogs are not an option. And his garden is far too small for a Jack Russell. So, he has opted for a cat. A giant cat. Yes, my boyfriend has fallen in love with Maine Coons. They can weigh up to 11kg, are huge and fluffly, have manes and are pretty much like owning a tiger.

The only problem is that HOMSI would quite like a rescue cat. Where we would find a homeless Maine Coon is our first problem - the second being how much Sinutab HOMSI will have to consume to be able to breathe, since he's mildly allergic to cats. Maybe the guinea pig is a good idea after all.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Questioning things

The point at which I really started wondering whether things would work out with us was about 400km into our 600km roadtrip.

I changed the CD. Somehow, of the 10 tracks on it, the one he loves the most is the 1 track that I want to skip.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

A quick note

I've come to realise that writing up my epic MA (and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting) has made me blog a lot less. I actually can't even remember when I last posted anything. *Bad Candice. Very bad Candice. No biscuits for you.*

So, instead of never getting around to writing proper posts, I'm going to be trying something new by posting bits and pieces on my blog to get me back into the swing of things. Sound good? Kthanxbye. :)