Ask me about my cherry tree.

We have a cherry tree outside our place. Last year it was just a tree. No cherries. Naturally, I’ve been going around bragging about my new cherry tree even though I wouldn’t touch the cherries. The tree has some sort of infestation of the insect variety. A friend told me yesterday, “It’s a bad year for Gypsy Moths.” 

I think she meant good: they’re clearly well-fed. Apparently, I have a friend who is an authority on Gypsy moths. Meanwhile, I can barely identify trees.

Unlike me, small critters are finding the cherries to be edible, so the tree has been attracting House Finches (I’m not good at identifying birds either: I had to google) and squirrels to ogle at. Squirrels are among the cutest animals to watch eat. This cherry tree may not provide me with fruit; instead, it provides me with entertainment.

I love our new cherry tree.

Oh, and I have a job.

Continue reading “Ask me about my cherry tree.”

Reborn on the internet as a cat.

My top three skills are:

1. I’m exceptionally fast at throwing words up on the screen. My average is over 100 words per minute, and I can type in bursts of 130wpm, which puts me in the top 1%. This is almost meaningless, especially as I’m prone to repetitive strain injuries. At best, it allows me to make Boomers feel inadequate.

A circular digital alarm clock with camo pattern is shown with a Smartie shaped device meant to be inserted under the pillow to shake the person awake. The text reads
What a strongly worded product description.

2. I have excellent circadian rhythm. Ask me what time it is, and I’m usually able to correctly guess within a 15-minute range. I don’t need an alarm clock to wake up (many deaf people use either a flashing or a vibrating alarm clock). Jet lag doesn’t seem to affect my internal clock: I can still get up at 5am Japan Standard Time if needed, and I have!

3. I have the world’s most airtight asshole. Of course, I fart, but I do so within the confines of a washroom, or when I’m alone. I never fart in public. The ex with whom I lived for more than five years can vouch for this, as can Yann, my co-habitator of three years. This is a skill I’ve developed out of what I believe to be basic decency.

But enough about me. Please now direct your attention to…

Continue reading “Reborn on the internet as a cat.”

Predictably unexpected.

When I told Yann that I was a fan of Shrinkle’s (who I was following on Instagram before my hyped departure) makeup, he interpreted it as sarcasm. Makeup is supposed to conceal blemishes and enhance natural features. If you instead choose to use your face as a canvas for prismatic powders, you are supposedly inviting aggressively rude comments from people online. But, I wasn’t sarcastic, I do think Shrinkle is the epitome of painted beauty.

Continue reading “Predictably unexpected.”