rachelpink rides the bus

Kitty

My sweet sweet Cupcake goes under the knife today. Poor thing--she howled all the way to the vet. Three avenues of howling is a sad way to start the day. But this is a good thing because she needed to be spayed stat, and it just happened to work out that my vet could do it while I'm out of town. Cupcake gets to recover under the vet's watchful eye, and I get to rest easy in L.A. knowing that she's in good hands.

OK. Time to check email and pack and try and get my work in ship shape before I head out.

Suburban Splendor

I'm quick to say I'd never leave the city for the suburbs. I love all the people watching and the sense of community and the public transportation too much to leave. But after a lovely weekend at Nancy's house in Huntington, my Queens-loving heart yearned for a backyard.

Strike that. I only want a backyard if it's got a Tammy and Matthew and Nancy in it.

I Googled myself today and found that I was quoted in a Woman's Day article on stress relief.

Pet a pet "Walking dogs and feeding kittens takes me to a complete Zen state," says New York PR expert Rachel Kempster, who volunteers at a pet shelter.

I knew this was coming because I sent in a quote and had a fact checker call a few months ago, but I'd forgotten all about it.

But I digress. Here is the latest iteration of me courtesy of Google:
1. I was quoted in a PW story about internet marketing.
2. I got promoted a few years ago.
3. I'm on Linked In, so my whole career is there for the asking.
4. I'm on Facebook.
5. I had bedbugs and for some reason a newspaper in Saudi Arabia cared enough to write about it.
6. Once I was the PR contact for a health book.
7. I'm on GoodReads and I read lots of books.
8. I was a PR contact for a book festival.
9. I was in an article about cohabitation.
10. I switched publishing companies a few years ago.

Not too embarrassing--except for the bedbug article. Ouch. That one's going to live on forever. Still, I'm glad my college-era posts about Tori Amos and the movie "Clueless" have moved deeper into the search results. That's a good thing. And it might seem vane to self-Google, but I consider it a necessary (and amusing) evil. It's kind of like monitoring your credit report.

ZZ

ZZ is the newest addition to D6. She's a zamioculcas (nicknamed ZZ by many) and hard to kill. Her stems aren't good for pets or people, so she's up on a plant stand where a certain 4-legged Cupcake can't get to her (although the plant store I bought her from has several cats running about and they're all alive--still, better safe than sorry with my darling kitty). I've been itching to buy a big gorgeous plant since I moved in, and now I've got it. One or two more small plants and I'll have a green and happy home.

If Only

Found on the Houston St. platform. It didn't work, but it's a nice thought.

A Song

Half-day Fridays start today, doo dah, doo dah.
Half-day Fridays start today, all the doo-dah day.

More reading time! More playing time! More volunteering time! More time to work on myriad secret projects!

Print might be dead, but half-day Fridays live on. Oh publishing, you're so good to me. I'll work until 5:45 Monday to Thursday, but it's worth it for the sweet nectar that is half-day Fridays.

I'm off to sing my half-day song to the cat.

Tuna Juice

My kryptonite is tuna juice. Arghughblugehh. TUNA JUICE. I hate it. And yeah, I'll eat a tuna sandwich a few times a year but only in the most controlled situations. And yeah, that makes my tuna juice phobia even more nutsy but c'est la vie.

Tonight I ran out to the store to get Cupcake cans of the scrumptious Fancy Feast she so enjoys. She'd greeted me so heartily when I came home tonight that I tore myself away from the final chapter of My Life In France to fetch her a delicious canned cat dinner.

I came home, beating the rain by two scant minutes, and opened up a can of Seafood Medley in Gravy. Cupcake purred and whirred and flapped her tail in anticipation. I peeled back the tin's lid to reveal a terrifying blend of ground up fish bits in a "gravy" that bested tuna juice in all categories. Oh god. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the food--wait, no, there was something wrong. It was tuna. And god knows what. And juice. Lots and lots of juice.

Cupcake loved it, and I realized that this was my own fault. The cat food aisle wasn't for pescatarian cats alone--there was a turkey feast, a beef feast, a chicken feast. But I chose the seafood medley, salmon, and tuna. The things I fear, the viscous gravy of seafood, the runny slimy fish juice--all of it I paid for and opened and scooped into my cat's bowl.

Which leads me to wonder if I'm somehow on crack and I just don't know it yet.

Julia

My Life in France has spent weeks on the nightstand. Now that I'm a good bit into it, I could kick myself for letting it sit unread.

Until yesterday hadn't given much thought to Julia Child. As a kid, I would watch her PBS show on rainy Sunday afternoons. In truth I preferred the Frugal Gourmet's eccentric, kindly uncle schtick to Julia's strange stoop. As is so often the case, my instincts were wrong. Julia Child rocked. She started really living in her late 30s. She was eternally hopeful. She recognized her limits. She wanted to improve improve improve. My Life in France was written with the help of Julia's nephew and a vast collection of letters and photos that chronicle the time Julia and her husband, Paul, spent in France. And this all sounds v. specific and maybe uninteresting to someone who isn't a foodie, but it's just not that simple. This book is joy, joy unbounded. The pictures Paul took around France of kooky maids and children playing and his awesome strong and tall wife lounging in the grass express joy and profound curiosity. Julia's outbursts and recollections and her love for her cat, Minette, have changed her in my mind from a caricature into a kindred spirit.

When I'm finished reading, I think I'll crack open a bottle of cheap french wine and gut a duck.

Cats is Cats

Today I was a team leader at the shelter. It's not too much extra work to team lead. In advance of the project I send a few emails. When the project is done I log the attendance. Easy peasy. But I will admit that I get stressed on the Sundays I lead.

When I'm just a volunteer, I show up and clean the cat cages. If there are other projects that need me, I do them. But when I'm a team leader, I need to pay attention to everything. If someone is new, I need to make sure they fill out a form and then tell them what to do. And since I've been working this gig for a long time, I just want to go go go. I want to cats to be happy, and I like to work fast. I don't expect a brand-new volunteer unused to the hectic shelter to speed through the project. But still, I need to make sure the work gets done. I need dogs walked and cats fed and cages cleaned. I need the floor swept and mopped and the dishes done. I need to leave the shelter in really good shape, but I also need to nurture the volunteers. Keep them happy and coming back. Today I could feel myself growing impatient. I trained, I explained, and then I took over tub duty. Tub duty is solitary. I scrubbed metal cage parts with steaming hot water and washed kitty litter pans until they gleamed. The tub kept stopping up, so I had to stop every few minutes and plunge the drain. I was wet and messy when I left, but it was OK. I kept my cranky self away--and the volunteers did a great job. The cages looked great, and they worked faster without me fluttering around them. I must remember to hole up with the tub next month when I lead again.

On a completely different note, take a look at this filarious picture of one of the shelter dogs. His name is Buster and this picture better get him adopted ASAP.

Not a Lazy Saturday

It's DIY Saturday at apartment 6D. This is the first time I've been off my feet since 10am with the exception of a 15-minute break for leftover tacos. Here I offer the photographic evidence:

First, let me present my new walls. They are yellow or 'lemon merengue' according to my fine friends at Benjamin Moore, and the whole room feels sunny and bright. After weeks of trying to choose the perfect color, I made the right decision.

And now that the walls are painted, I can put some pictures up. I've placed Grandpa Mousey's racing photo above the doorway.

This is kind of a messy picture, but it's full of happy. Notice I've placed my wand (made at Harry Potter Place when the final book came out) on my cabinet handles. Magic. And I've got my Heidi Kenney art up. Donuts and ice cream by the microwave, broccoli over the stove.

Here's a small little DIY project. This switchplate used to be two little kids kissing or playing the saxophone or doing something similarly creepy (it was the kind of thing Angela from The Office would enjoy). With Vince's help, I found a customizable switch plate. Today I popped in an Ashley G. postcard that came with one of my Etsy orders and viola!

Last weekend I bought these hanging bud vases from CB2. They're on the wall facing my bed. I need to get some flowers, it's a little lame with leaves.

And the final project of the night? I hung up some hooks in the hallway. I decided that I'm going to get a vinyl wall sticker thing from Blik instead of painting. It costs about the same as painting, and I found a pattern with tree branches that I love.