I am the WORST.

You guys. This blog. It's seen better days.

It's just...doctoral coursework is HAAAARD. And time-consuming. And soul-sucking.

Hopefully, you're all Facebook friends with me, because you can get a much more regular update on the banal trivialities of my daily existence there. The updates consist mainly of pictures of Tre (omg I haven't even blogged about Tre) and BB, complaining about ever-lofty musico-philosophical reading assignment filled with vocabulary words I have to look up twenty times, and Scott and I checking into our neighborhood sportsbar to drown our stresses and sorrows in martinis and bourbon.

But I make it all sound so negative, which is quite the opposite. This semester is actually pretty awesome. I think I've found my scholarly stride. I feel like I'm knocking it out of the park in my classes this year *knock on wood*.

I'll blog about this semester sometime in the near-to-far future. Come join me on Facebook in the meantime...

A rant of self-inflicted misery.

Have we not - as a highly advanced species - evolved to a point in which we can have sixteen goddamn teeth on our lower mandible and be OKAY WITH IT?

And not have to wallow in pain in week-long misery once or twice a year as our so-called evolutionary superior jaws struggle to make room for those two extra goddamned molars?!

In related news: I probably should have had my wisdom teeth taken out a decade ago like I was advised to. Engh.

ps. Hi. Classes are going well. I am enjoying year two much more than year one. But probably because I am in total denial that I have qualifying exams in 4 months.

Today's post is brought to you by CARBS.

Three things that are happening right now:

1. The end of the first week of year two of doctoral coursework. It's already been eventful. My feet and legs are sore. (Those things are actually related. i.e. Avoid running late to your first morning of teaching your new classes during 9am university traffic. Because then you will find yourself racing across campus in high heels to barely make it in time, and spending the first 30 minutes of class panting and wiping sweat from your face.)

2. I am eating potato chips dipped in leftover potato soup. I AM ON MY WOMAN TIME, OKAY?

3. Paydaaaaaaaay! 

Mkay?

BB's cuter. 

Why, yes, I did just post this on my course website for my students.

A week of momentous accomplishments.

Accomplishment #1 

After this past Summer of Surprise Unemployed Destitution, I am so pleased to announce that I have gone and gotten myself a part-time job working as an assistant for the office of our Director of Graduate Studies and the Director of Student Affairs at the College of Fine Arts. Huzzah! A friend, who had the job last year and has since gotten a new job at the fine arts library, tipped me off and recommended me as his replacement (His words: "She's cool and hyper-organized." Heh.) last Wednesday. I sent off an email to the directors on Thursday. Then I started work on Friday!

The job is literally just organizing the mounds of papers and files strewn everywhere in the office and placing them in their proper place. In other words, TOTALLY MY BAG. I am certain that my friend who had the job last year did a great job (they would have had him back if he didn't get the library job instead), but it is apparent that some other student workers have not been so...competent. At what, though, I wonder? Placing sheets of paper in the correct position (horizontal) in a file cabinet? Total mastery of proper alphabetical order? It's not brain science, as they say. I say this, because, after just three hours in the office, the two directors were already making comments about how well I was doing.  And I was like, "Uh...you know I'm a Ph.D. student, right...?" Just kidding. I just laughed and said, "Well, this is totally my thing - zoning out and organizing things." And the DSA was like, "Then you will do very well around here!" And then as he was leaving for lunch, the DGS said thank you to me for doing a good job, and the DSA followed up with, "Yes, I'm very encouraged by her already because she has finished a lot of tasks already without having to ask me questions every five minutes, so I've been able to get some work done myself!" And then I was like, "Who in the hell needed to ask you questions every five minutes?" (Just in my head.)

Also, I am apparently sworn to secrecy in that office - What happens in the Graduate Studies Office, stays in the Graduate Studies Office - because those two TALK - and I mean TAAAAALK - about students and faculty nonstop in there. Hahaha. I love it.

Anyway, it's only ten hours a week, since that's the maximum amount I'm allowed to work on top of my teaching assistantship without getting in trouble, but it's a decent hourly wage, so the little bit of extra income will help. Plus, any more hours than that and I'd get paranoid about sacrificing my seminar reading, paper writing, and studying time, especially since I have my qualifying exams coming up in January. (OMG EEP.)

And did I mention I will totally get to hear all the college dirt and gossip? Muahaha.

ps. The DGS and I spent the first 10 minutes of meeting talking about my and Schmoobs' previous place of employment in Texas. Turns out his first job was at that school as well and it was where he married his wife, like 3 decades ago. Awww. Small world! We even worked with some of the same people, including the two hundred year old tenured professor who inspired this classic bitch and moan blog post. (Remember?!)

pps. I would also like to add that when I initially talked to DSA about the job, she said, "Yes, we have a lot of work that needs to be done around here because we didn't have {my friend} during the summer so there's a lot to catch up on." And then I was all, "ARGH! I CONTACTED YOU MULTIPLE TIMES AT THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER EXPLICITLY SAYING I WAS AVAILABLE TO WORK AND YOU NEVER RESPONDED GODDAMNIT GRRRRAAARRRR!" (Also in my head.) Oh well, unorganized people be unorganized. Bygones.

Accomplishment #2 

For the last I don't know how long - year? two years? - I've been completely frustrated at my legs becoming overwhelmingly itchy and irritated all the time, especially after I had just shaved my legs. It seemed like I had constant itchy bumps and irritation, which totally cramped on my shorts-wearing plans during the summer, and I am sure this is all completely interesting to you.

ANYWAY. Long story not as long, I tried everything from applying hydrocortisone, eleventy hundred different types of lotion, antibacterial gel, switching to allergen-free detergent, and using all different sorts of razors. Nothing seemed to help.  I even got super scared that we had some kind of invisible mite infestation. (GROSS.) It blew. And then, finally, I came across some websites that talked about chronic hives. All the descriptions of it seemed to match what I experienced - recurring itchy red and raised welts that resemble bug bites of various sizes that come and go without warning and can last from a few hours to several days - and I was like, "Ah ha! That is me! Dr. Google is talking about me!" So, I zoomed over to the drugstore and got what Dr. Google recommended: Zantac and Zyrtec. I took one dose of each as soon as I got home, and, lo and behold, the welts were gone within the hour. I haven't gotten them since.

Crazy. Medical mystery solved. So...chronic hives? Really? Why?

Accomplishment #3

You guys. I totally finally figured out how to apply eyeliner on my wacky Asian eyelids. It only took three decades. High five.

Accomplishment #4

I survived band camp week!

Well, really, Schmoobs survived another band camp week!

But, no, seriously... I survived band camp week!

This doesn't really mean much since the end of band camp just signals the beginning of the semester and marching/football season, but still. At least we get a day off together tomorrow. That'll be our last one until...December? Something like that.

Anyway, the band had a picnic yesterday. I didn't want to go (read: anti-social) - especially since I know that Schmoobledoos will always be obligated to do band directory things during - but it was actually really fun. Year two in a place means you know more of the students and vice-versa. Also, I brought BB and she is a wonderful buffer between me and other humans. Here are some pictures.

Accomplishment #...4.9?
I am this close to finishing my syllabi and course outlines for my classes this semester. But I keep getting distracted by the Internets. Oh well, you got a blog update out of it. Mazel tov.

Eeeep! *slight trickle of pee*

I just submitted my first article to a scholarly journal, you guys!

It was totally spur of the moment. I decided to open up two of the seminar papers I wrote last semester to read them over and do some edits. And then I remembered that our division head emailed us a notice about an interdisciplinary music journal announcing a call for papers recently. And then I noticed that the deadline is like in three days. And then I was like, "I'm proud of this paper. Maybe other people will like it." So then I made some quick edits and submitted it!

I'm not perfectly sure that my subject matter is 100% what this journal is looking for, but...what the hell! It's worth a shot.

Also, I am totally practicing German and Tagalog at the same time this morning (while concurrently refreshing Facebook like a madwoman and going through my favorite fashion blog) while drinking my coffee. I am a veritable whirlwind of productivity!

BAND CAMP 2013 rulz!

Hi.

It is day two of Schmooblins' Band Camp Week, otherwise known as The Week Where He Has To Work For 23.95 hours Every Day And I Become SO BORED.

I've already taken BB on long extended walks three days in a row.

Also, I spent about 6 hours in the kitchen yesterday doing productive, delicious things. Yesterday, I walked to the farmer's market with BB to pick up some radishes, pickled said radishes along with some carrots, marinated some chicken to prepare for making banh mi sandwiches, and made a big batch of split pea and lentil soup.

I guess Band Camp is a good thing, after all.

Anyway. In addition, when I am not a) walking BB around the neighborhood, b) cooking dishes for which there is nobody here except for me to eat, c) spinning in circles on my side in a corner of the living room chanting repeatedly, "bored bored bored bored...", I am also preparing materials for the upcoming semester of teaching. I think I've mentioned that I have a desire to completely overhaul how I teach my Introduction to Music classes this year. Less lecture, more class participation and current cultural and social relevance, etc. etc.

Part of what I'm toying with is the idea of no tests or quizzes this semester.

WHAT THE EFF, CAN I EVEN DO THAT?

Well, it's my class, so I think, technically, I can. We'll see how it goes. Last year it just became so much of me droning ooooon and ooooooooon for the entire hour while I watched most of the class not listen to a word I said and just robotically write down word for word what I had up on the Powerpoint slides just so that they could spit back verbatim what I had projected onto the slide in order to collect the A they were felt entitled to at the end of the semester. Bleah. Over it.

So, I have a little over a week to get everything mapped out and planned and ready to go.

Regardless, it should be an interesting experiment. If it fails like the Hindenburg, I will no doubt write about it here. So...win win.

'Tis the season.

Or, 'tis a season, more like.

The season for band camp. The season for Schmoobles being at work around the clock for the next week and a half. And the season for me hoping that doesn't trigger a hormonal psychotic break as I also prepare to enter the monthly season of The Confirmation That I Am Indeed Without Child.

Eh, it should be fine. I'm an old pro (emphasis on "old"...gah) at this by now and, anyway, I have plenty to keep myself busy with as I prepare to tackle my third semester of doctoral coursework.

Speaking of seasons, it's chilly out today. Like, I needed a sweater as I sat outside waiting for BB to go number twos in our backyard. IT'S AUGUST. Was der waaas*??


* "What the whaaaat??" I've been practicing a lot of German lately.

Masters of Reason

At the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru for our coffee this morning:

Ys: "...Are you going to get a donut?"
Schmoobs: "No..."
Ys: "Ugh. Fine. Then I'm not going to, either."
Schmoobs: "Look, if you want to have a donut, have a donut. I'll get a bagel."
Ys: "No. That's fine. Let's just get coffee."
Schmoobs: "Well, I'm still going to have a bagel."
Ys: "Fine. Then I'm getting a donut!"
Schmoobs: "Fine then!"

The end.

Of acid reflux and bile loogies.

Hey, remember when I blogged about our new house and I mentioned something about our master bathtub being really nice but also very perplexing because it includes those random curved shelve-ledge things that don't make any sense because you can't really set anything on them without it toppling over? Here's a refresher:

Does this picture make the shower look really dirty? It's just the picture quality. I PROMISE. (No really. Why does it look like that? I swear, it's squeaky clean.)

I found a good use for that bottom ledge. See, when you have old friends from Seattle - who now live in Indiana - passing through town and you haven't seen them in over five years and they now have a three year old daughter whom you have never met, you have to drop whatever you are doing at 11am and meet them for lunch at a nearby Mexican-ish restaurant. Even if by the "whatever" you are doing is stuffing your face hole full of garlic parmesan pita chips and red pepper hummus. And so when you get to the restaurant, you have no appetite for tacos whatsoever and opt to have a margarita for lunch instead. And then several hours later, your gastrointestinal system organs will be all, "Oh, wait! I almost forgot! We are now over thirty years old and must punish our foolish host lady for having one measly margarita at lunchtime. Let's immediately put our bile production into overdrive and start shooting acid upwards. Esophagus, are you ready for this? Alright, guys, let's goooo!" And then as I'm standing there in the shower, an extreme bile-inducing nausea will overtake me and I will actually have to use that blasted bottom ledge to sit my butt down on in the middle of my bedtime shower with my elbows on my knees and head slumped over as I spit out bile loogies every 30 seconds.

Attractive.

Anyway, thank you strange bottom ledge of our master bathtub. You are now very purposeful. Also, being in your 30s is awesome. Wheeeeee!

Whoops.

And I was doing so well with the blogging, too.

Schmoobs and I are off to Indy for Nerd Corps finals week. It should be fun! It's been a while since I've played the role of small, strange, shadowy figure in the background, cursing at mosquitoes and tagging along with all the sweaty and burly men through football fields and parking lots in the dead of summer. At least we have a hotel room this time!

In other news, there are (I think?) three more weeks until the start of the new year. I've got plans to completely overhaul how I teach my Music 100 course sections, in hopes that it will be more interactive and varied for the students - i.e. less boring and stagnant for me. Hopefully, I'll be doing more blogging as these summer weeks wind down and my second year of coursework for my Doctorate in Fingers Toes and Fallopian Tubes Crossed That I Can Get a Job Afterwards ramps up.

Delta: "We love to {mismanage flights and inconvenience our passengers who have already paid exorbitant fees} and it shows!

This morning, as I was showering in preparation for my flight back to Lexington, I was all, "I haven't blogged during this entire trip. Maybe I should do a live-blog of my travel day from Sacramento. That would be fun."

And then when I got out of the shower, I was met with several emails from Delta and Travelocity informing me that my flight had been delayed multiple times, with the last delay causing me to miss my connection in Minneapolis, thereby forcing me to be rebooked on a new flight leaving in 12 hours and arriving in Lexington tomorrow.

And then, as per the email from Travelocity's instructions, I called them to confirm my new itinerary, and I got to spend the next ten minutes explaining to the customer service agent on the line that my original flight was delayed and I got rebooked while she was all, "I show you have two flights today from Sacramento to Lexington. Can you confirm you have two flights today from Sacramento to Lexington?" Then I was all, "No. The first flight has been delayed. It's going to make me miss my connection, so they've booked me on a different flight." And she kept being like, "No. Your flight to Minneapolis arrives at 6pm and your next departure leaves at 7:30pm so you will not miss your connection." And I repeated, "No. There's a delay on that flight. I have gotten multiple notifications from Delta that that flight is delayed. I'm going to miss my connection. So they've booked me on a new flight, which is the second one you see there." And she'd insist, "No. I do not see a delay to Minneapolis. You will not miss your connection. Can you confirm that you have two flights today from Sacramento to Lexington?" And then I would turn into the Hulk and smash through walls with my green veiny muscly arms while screaming through my iPhone speaker.

Anyway, after putting me on hold for another ten minutes while she spoke to somebody at Delta, the Travelocity agent finally was like, "Ok. I can confirm that your original flight has been delayed and that your new itinerary departs Sacramento at 10:55 tonight." And I was like, "NO DUH, LADY."

But really, I know there are far worse things in this world than being rebooked on a later flight, but what else is this blog for than bitching about relatively inconsequential and mildly annoying inconveniences?

Also, I am hoping to get a free travel voucher out of this.

*cracks my angry-letter-writing knuckles*

Things I Have Been Doing Lately.

1. Writing copy endlessly for pittance.

2. Eating my feelings.

3. Playing with my Sims on my iPhone (2013 is totally the new 2001).

4. Fantasizing about what life is like in an alternate universe where I am actually done with school forever and have a meaningful job that offers me a salary, allowing me to do fantastical things like pay my bills without anxiety, travel, exist as a fully functional independent adult human, etc.

5. Watching "Fringe" with Schmoobs, speaking of alternate universes.

6. More writing of copy and eating of feelings.

That's all.

A few more miscellaneous latelies.

I picked up Bela's ashes from the vet a few days ago. Schmoobs was out of town, so it was up to me to go get him. All week since we had to put him down, I had been really eagerly anticipating getting his ashes so that I could feel like he was "back home" with us. But then when Schmoobs called me tell me that the vet's office had told him the ashes were ready, I just felt a little sick in the pit of my stomach. Maybe a little dread that it would all seem real. So I woke up early the next morning and spent some time psyching myself up for the visit to the vet's office. I wasn't dreading it, and I really wanted to go get Bela's ashes. But I just didn't want to cry at the vet anymore.

Anyway, when I got there, it was early and nobody was in the lobby. I waited a few minutes and then finally the receptionist came out, surprised to see somebody there. She smiled and asked how I could be helped. *deep breath* "I'm here to pick up our cat's ashes. Bela." And then my voice started wobbling and I started tearing up. The nice thing about people who work at vets, though, is that they are all very empathetic to this sort of thing. Anyway, she went and got Bela's ashes, which were in a pouch, kept inside this pretty wooden box, and wrapped in a big velvet case. I (Schmoobs) paid the lady and I went back to the car to sit with the ashes for a while. This sounds weird, but just having the box sitting on my lap gave me some comfort. I'm totally going to be the crazy lady who talks to a box of ashes once in a while when nobody is looking. Anyway, before I drove away, I looked to see what else was inside the velvet case and they had included a stone that had Bela's pawprint on it. That immediately started the tears again. Happy tears, though, I think. For the most part. It was a nice touch.  

I also found this glass tea candle holder the same day. How could I not get it? And I placed a picture of Schmoobs and me so that we would always be right next to Bela.

The other night, I was lying down on the couch watching tv (and probably playing Candy Crush...) when some neighbors decided to start blowing up some fireworks or something. BB HATES FIREWORKS. July 4 is like the worst day of the year for BB by far. She spends the entire evening trembling and trying to crawl inside my skin, usually in the neck and chest area. Anyway, this night she planted herself right on my chest and wouldn't move. Poor sweet BB! July 4 is less than a week away...

I actually socialized last night! You remember Sarah and Maria from the cookout a few days ago? To the right is one more doctoral student wife, Mallory. GIRRRL'S NIIIIIGHT! (You have to say it like that exactly.) Anyway, it was fun. I learned something new about myself, which is that 2 martinis now make me feel queasy the next day. Urrrgh. Or maybe it was the ice cream I had after breakfast and the creamy lemon bar I had for dessert...

Two posts in one day.

I am just going to go ahead and count the fact that I stopped myself at 1/2 cup of deliciously creamy Trader Joe's mint chip ice cream and roughly 1 handful of kettle chips when I very easily could have gone hog wild on both those things a victory.

I almost posted this on Facebook, but then I was like, "You know what? Some 30-something female acquaintance of mine from high school with twenty kids is going to comment and be all, 'Pregnant?'" Hyuk hyuk hyuk.

And then I'm going to have to be all TMI instead of snarky and be like, "No. The thing that happens when you specifically don't get pregnant."

And then I'm going to regret it because I didn't block it from people like former students and colleagues.

So I wrote it on my blog instead.

Oh mah gah, you guys.

I just did my daily set of five sprinting reps up and down our staircase. Winded. Please feel free to completely mock me. But then also be proud of me that I have gotten off of my ass two whole days in a row to do something active, if only for two minutes. I did two sets yesterday, which I'm not quite sure I can replicate today because I was already in perilous danger of tumbling down the stairs on my last rep down the stairs today. Long story short, my legs are so out of shape, guys. But I think I can muster all the powers of the universe to do some ab and ass exercises before giving it a rest for today.

Other thing: I have been a copy writing tornado this morning. There have been so many good assignments the last 24 hours that I've actually enjoyed writing. So, hooray for that. I still only make a pittance per hour, though. Oh well.

One other thing: Duolingo is so much fun! I'm working out my German chops in preparation for having to pass my foreign language proficiencies this next year of coursework. GULP.

One last thing: Big Brother premiered last night. Summer has officially begun!

Operation: I Hate You, Stupid Metabolism In My 30s

After last weekend's little cookout with friends, our house was left with lots of leftovers from food that people brought over - namely, cake, ice cream, and cookies. And ohmygod so much beer. But, luckily, I pretty much do not drink beer at all these days, since even half a bottle will instantly cause me to bloat up and start near-vomiting bile from all the acid reflux. Delightful. But, yeah, cake, ice cream, and cookies. Also, Schmoobles is gone all week for his final out of town work thing this summer. And, of course, I am totally straight up eating my feelings in regards to Bela. (I picked up his ashes from the vet's office yesterday morning.) Oh, and did I mention that I am PMS-ing?

This all culminates to the fact that I am eating EVERYTHING in sight.

Long story short, I need to exercise more. I entertained thoughts of getting back into a 30 Day Shred regimen, but then HAAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah, right.

1) We have hard wood on our entire first level, which is not conducive to floor based exercises. (Ignore the fact that I own a yoga mat.)

2) The air conditioning does not travel well to the carpeted upstairs bedroom suite, so - despite having two fans up there - it stays pretty warm until, I don't know, 3 or 4 in the morning? And then starts to warm up again when the sun rises.

3) Running outside is out because it is summer in the south and are you crazy? Also, THE MOSQUITOES OH MY GOD THE MOSQUITOES. Also, I hate running.

4) More excuses.

So, I have devised at least a little beginning exercise plan to get me minimally moving again and will ever so slightly shave away the guilt that I collect from eating cake at midnight while watching my beloved Bravo reality shows. In the mornings, after my cup of coffee, I will do reps of sprinting up the staircase, through the far bedroom corner, and back down the staircase. Just starting this morning, I was able to do 5 (stop laughing) reps before my lungs started closing up and I had to reach for the inhaler. Also, oy the thigh burning! Yeah, I know, 5. But it's a start. Now that my lungs have opened back up, I'll do 5 more and then I'll whip out the yoga mat and just do some ab and ass work. Maybe a few pushups. The end. Every couple of days I'll see if I can add a rep to my house laps. I'll see how long it takes me to be able to do 10 laps without taking a hit of the ol' albuterol.

Anyway, it's a start. Again.

Miscellaneous lately.

Remember the three (THREE!) bedroom closets I so very excitedly pointed out in my New House post? The fabulous walk-in is shared, but the other two have become His and Hers. Mine is basically only storing three big boxes which serve as a blockade against the other little mini storage space door that houses the murder clowns. The closet pictured here is Schmoobles'. He opened it up one morning as he was getting ready.

Me: "Oh my gosh. I had no idea this is what has happened to your closet."

Schmoobs: "I just haven't put my socks away yet..."

Me: "..."

This disaster zone he has created has now officially been nicknamed The Sock Closet.

You know what happened to come with our house? Daylily and Lilac plants! Who knew? They were dormant when we bought/moved in to the house, but they bloomed suddenly a little while ago. So pretty! So now I can have free fresh flowers in the house. 

We had a couple of friends over the other evening for a casual little cookout. Ken and Don were two of Schmoobles' graduate assistants (doctoral students) this year and their wives are Maria and Sarah. You already know the duo on the left.

Cornhole (...hehehe "cornhole"...) was a big hit with the kiddos, Theo and Alex. Later on, the sun came down and the fireflies came out. These two went nuts over how cool they were and spent a good deal of time running around our yard catching them.

Schmoobs took a picture of me and BB having an intense head scratching session. She entered another dimension, I think.

Also, here's a PSA for you: DO NOT buy the Candy Crush Saga game app. It will suck you into an ever deepening abyss of addiction which will cause you to all but completely ignore your loved ones in a cruel relentless pursuit for victory in more and more and more levels. I'm already dreading what will happen to me in the fall when I have, you know, doctoral classes to attend to. This game normally has built-in controls that sets a time limit for you so that you are forced to only be able to play for a certain number of minutes before you have to wait for more gameplay or more lives. This is, of course, unless you pay cash money for more game time (which I refuse). Or...you find a hack online that allows you to play with unlimited lives and unlimited minutes. Which I did. DON'T DO IT, I TELL YOU. 

In other news, there is a glimmer of hope that I may be getting a clarinet student this summer! Huzzah! One! You know, as much as we were not super huge fans of living in Tejas, one thing I could say was that I was never in want of private students there. I could totally afford (not in dollar terms, but in metaphorical terms) to kick a few off a cliff like a swarm of lemmings and still have plenty of students at my beck and call. (Whether they actually paid me is another story, ehem.) Anyway, cross your fingers, toes, Fallopian tubes, and ear lobes that this one works out. The little bit of extra money would help. She also happens to be the daughter of the Dean of our  School of Fine Arts. Woot.

Bela: His Greatest Hits

This is one of the first pictures of Bela I remember taking. This was when Schmoobs and I were still in Knoxville (many moons moves ago!) and I snapped this pic of Bela in the middle of the day while I was a pathetic unemployed person with a Master's degree. Omg. Nothing has changed. UGH. Anyway, I created the thought bubble using my mad Microsoft Paint skillz and left this as Schmoobliedooblie's desktop computer wallpaper one day. Aren't I delightful? Also: Thing I Was Not In Possession Of In 2006 = Good font judgement.

...Then along came BB. One of the earliest - and most favorite! - photos of the Beebla. This just captures their essence. Bela in a sunpatch glowering imperiously from afar at this little innocent and naive furball that came barelling into our lives. Sorry, Bela. I know there was a part of you that loved her at least a teeny tiny bit somewhere deep inside. Or at least you tolerated her.

But sometimes you did not tolerate her.

Ah. Quite possibly the photo I am most proud of in the long inventory of my obsessive photo taking. I call this their Vanity Fair photo because it totally looks like it should be on the cover of a worldwide publication. This is natural lighting at its finest. I opened up the shades to our big sliding glass balcony door in our first apartment in Texas and snapped right when the stars and planets aligned. Bela's Blue Steel is masterful perfection.

But I got a solo shot of Bela as well. In Soviet Russia, the sun worships Bela! This cat knew how to pose and find his light better than any creature in the history of ever.

Um...but sometimes he could look derpy as well. Not often. But sometimes.

Oh, the gun show? Hold on, let me finish bathing myself and I'll show you the way.

He could be a cruel taskmaster. "MORE SCALES MORE ETUDES MORE LONG TONES!!!"

His name is Bela. He likes his clarinets shiny and his coffee black. Now, unless you have some catnip, please leave him alone to dwell in his thoughts and perhaps analyze some recently collected works of Stockhausen.

Aw. Cute. Bela: "Wake up. I demand wet food."

Handsome kitty...

...Bela: "I know."

Mmm...roasted Bela.

This creature would not leave the space heater for the duration of the long winter season. Well, sometimes he did, but only to move to his blanket throne which was topped by a heated electric blanket.

FISTS OF FURY!!!

The name's Bond. Bela Bond.

I don't always wear a Snuggie. But when I do, it is in the print of my majestic feline forefathers.

The Most Interesting Cat in the World.

Hahaha. Caught him in the middle of teaching that chair a lesson. You show it who's boss, Bela!

Yoga Master level 10. Do not attempt this pose without proper supervision.

This is what usually happened when BB decided to try and jump up on the sofa in the vicinity of Bela.

Contemplative.

Smiley face kitty!

On rare occasion, he would humor me and laugh at my stupid jokes.

Hahaha. Love.

I'll always be happy we were able to get this photo.

I took this the day before he passed. Our handsome Sun King always.