My Bedroom Is A Battleground

October 31st, 2006

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I hate to contradict you, inevitably throwing your fragile persona into spiraling disarray, but you know what, you rat bastard: I totally appreciate DST like I appreciate the song “Susan’s House? by The Eels. They’re things that make it easier to get out of bed in the morning, a raison d’etre if you will… and you will. Here’s another thing that makes it easier to get out of bed: windows; and I’ve got ‘em. My new place kicks major patootie, dude. There’s really only two drawbacks.

One: I’m in a, let’s call it… very dangerous neighborhood. Some people wear these sort of altered shark cage things so not only their windows are barred, but they themselves are protected by the mighty power of the bar as they stroll down the street.

Two: My bedroom is a battleground. So there’s a black cat who’s chilling at our place that belongs to the girl who used to live in my room. Like most of her crap she’s yet to take (mostly strange Voodoo paraphernalia), the cat will be with us for an indeterminate amount of time. His name is Squid. Heather also has a cat, a white guy named Mei Mei. Mei Mei is pure jungle, baby: territorial and fearless with a wild look in his eyes that says, “at any moment I could take a high perch behind you and descend ferociously upon your face with fury of tooth and claw, the likes of which your skin (and possibly eye balls!) have never experienced.? Up until recently Mei Mei has not been able to claim the room I live in (Squid’s room), and with the influx of new objects yet unmarked, he’s been going basically nuts rubbing his neck on everything in a ruthless takeover. Squid who is meeker and more of a socialist is beginning to lose his space. In fact, Mei Mei sort of patrols my room while Squid tries to sneak in and take a nap on the pile of his owner’s remaining clothes.

Sure I feel bad for Squid, what with his frightened, confused eyes, but you know what, they’re just cats. Fuck ‘em. I’m just pissed because I’m caught in the crossfire. In fact, yesterday when I finally pet Squid a little bit, I saw Mei Mei glaring from a chair by the fridge, and low and behold, when I went for the OJ my thigh received a vicious thwaking. Like, I’m talking direct jealousy and territoriality.

I’m like Steve Irwin over here, but ya know… still alive.