7 More Days, 7 More Instagram Snaps

7 More Days, 7 More Instagram Snaps

I’m continuing in my non-challenge of taking and posting a non-photo on Instagram every day. I still haven’t figured out what I’m trying to achieve, but I have patience enough, so I’ll just wait and see what becomes. While we’re all waiting for me to figure out what I’m up to, here are seven more photos covering seven more days.

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8 Jan: I’ve been fascinated with balls recently. Especially fluffy balls. And colourful balls. Bonus for soft balls. I must ask the ghost of Freud what that means.
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9 Jan: Balls!! The cat got a new toy ball. She’s nonplussed. Never mind, I like to play with balls. And step on them in the dark because there are 10+ cat toys strategically placed around the flat. Ostensibly for the cat to play with, but, see above, she doesn’t care. So home decoration it is.
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10 Jan: In case there was any doubt, I have a crotch. It’s hard to take a selfie when you don’t want to capture your face. So I figure the crotch is a pretty neutral subject. 
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11 Jan: I made myself tea with slivovitz and, much to my alarm, discovered Apple product placement in the tea. They’re everywhere, trying to get me. But they won’t because I’m paranoid. Which doesn’t negate the fact that they’re after me.
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12 Jan: This cute piece of graffiti says motherfuckers in the local language. I think it’s very cheerful and uplifting, though I didn’t confirm with the owner of this wall. 
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13 Jan: I was playing around with JavaScript. I didn’t achieve anything, but it’s kind of nice to know that you can write a JS object, should your life depend on it one day. You know, like the day when the computers take over the world.
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14 Jan: The cat is either incredibly stupid or incredibly bold because she attempted to join me in the shower.  Don’t even ask what I was doing with my phone in the shower. (I take it everywhere, so.)

 

7 Days, 7 Instagram Snaps

7 Days, 7 Instagram Snaps

I’ve been diligently taking a photo a day since the beginning of the year. It’s not like I’m doing a 365 Project. I’ve completed two and abandoned one two thirds along the way. It’s rather that I have no idea what I’m doing and I keep on posting it on Instagram.

Scroll down to view the evidence and read my elaborate photo descriptions. Or don’t, I’m not telling you what to do. I would, but no one listens to me, so I won’t. Or will I? I have decision paralysis, so decide on my behalf. Problem solved. Or not.

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1 January: Went to see fireworks. Was so foggy that I couldn’t see where I was going, not to mention the fireworks. The fog-amplified noise nearly gave me an epileptic attack. I’m not even epileptic.
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2 January: I’m trying to read. That would be commendable, except it’s so boring I mostly just fiddle with the Kindle app, which has a Dic(k)tionary. I don’t know how I managed to graduate as a Literature Major.
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3 January: I went to the post office but I can’t remember what I wanted there. That much to documenting my life so I could remember what the fuck I was up to. Probably nothing as per usual.
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4 January: My new yoga mat arrived. I ordered it specifically because of the box, which is cat-sized. Kidding. Kind of. The cat however approves, and she’s the queen.
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5 January: That was a bad idea. I okayed Windows Update and had to take a day off because my Windows couldn’t even. After crunching for half an hour, Windows presented me with this. You know what. FY.
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6 January: I was asked to get drunk and send nudes. I did get drunk. Nothing said.
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7 January: Got a hangover, couldn’t stand sharp light, used a candle. I can do candles. Anytime. Also, none of this is true. Maybe. You wouldn’t know.
A Quick Log

A Quick Log

Bought a new yoga mat. Nothing wrong with the old one, but the cat needed the box.

What I’ve Been Up to during the Holidays

What I’ve Been Up to during the Holidays

My holiday programme could be summed up in one word: nothing. But then I’d have nothing to blog about, so let’s elaborate.

I spent the holiday with my family: Ella, Lena, Apple, Broken Bastard and, most important, WiFi. In other words, I was home alone (plus one, that is, cat). So as not to be lonely, I was spending quality time with the cat (the above-mentioned Ella) and my favourite devices, which I named (like Robinson’s Wilson the Ball). Lena is my laptop and my bestie. Apple is the iPad with whom I have a love-and-hate relationship and only use it for reading Kindle books. The Broken Bastard is my electric heater, which is broken, hence bastard. As to WiFi, duh, self-explanatory.

My festive mood was oscillating between severely depressed and fiercely grumpy. On the Christmas Day, I was flooded with seasonal wishes on Facebook, which were mostly the identical Facebook-generated card. I soon developed a strong allergic reaction against it.

On a whim, I texted my academic colleague a customised wish: “Though Christmas is a social construct, have a good one!” She replied with happy holidays and the wish that god may bless me. That made me grumpy. How many times do I have to publicly declare that a) I’m Buddhist and don’t celebrate Christian holidays (and, obviously, don’t believe in god’s blessings); b) I’m depressed and grumpy, hence wishing me a happy anything is really a waste of a perfectly good wish.

On the Christmas Eve, I found myself digging in the Windows registry for fun. Even I considered this a twisted way to spend the holiday. So I went to reorganise my desktop folders instead. Seeing that this was not much better, I proceeded to change my phone ringtones. I was really just waiting the season out.

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That’s me in the ball

On the New Year’s Eve, I started to organise my work and life for the new year, obsessively filling in my several planning diaries and journals. A good try, alas, I failed in all instances. I switched on a boring radio station so as not to miss the countdown to midnight. I didn’t miss it, but it was anti-climactic. The moderator invited a charwoman to the microphone and they both dispensed their best wishes.

I tried to toast to my cat (not toast my cat as in putting her in a toaster), but she was shitting herself with fright from the fireworks under the sofa and refused to come out. And the next thing I remember is a hangover and another shitty year beginning. The cat foretold it right.

I’m particularly proud of the new year’s wish I posted on Instagram, so I’ll repeat it here: If you’re a guy, may your new year not suck. And if it sucks, may it at least swallow. (This joke I stole.) If you’re a gal, may your new year not be a dick. Actually… (This one I didn’t steal.) Well, let’s hope my new year will be a dick.

Also, I do not offer my apologies for my somewhat inappropriate sense of humour. I’m true to myself. Which is actually the moral of The Scarlet Letter by Hawthorne:

Be true! Be true! Be true! Show freely to the world, if not your worst, yet some trait whereby the worst may be inferred!

So, this is where sex jokes and classics of American literature meet.

Image

If You Must…

Whatever. Here’s my painstakingly hand-crafted happy holiday card.

Dark Violet Snow Flakes Christmas Thank You Card

Repenting Caturday

Repenting Caturday

I was reproached (in the kindest manner) for posting heavy stuff on a Saturday morning. I shall repent and rectify. Here’s a cat.

Cat Shower

Cat Shower

The cat is waiting for me to finish my shower, so she could jump right in and drink the soapy water, clearly not knowing any better.

Caturday Sounds

Caturday Sounds

In the night, I listen to the sounds that the cat makes. It’s sort of soothing. Here are the sounds:

  • Floor creaking: the creaky old floor creaks even when my light-weight cat walks on it. There’s an element of suspense because you never know where exactly she’s heading and what she’s up to.
  • Radiator clinking: the old wheezy radiator makes sounds of its own, but when the cat jumps on it, there is lots of clinking as her nails hug the metal grille when she’s tiptoeing on top of it.
  • Soft thudding: it’s more of a feeling than a sound, but I can tell when the cat jumps on the bed or the sofa to settle there. It’s a vibrating sensation and it’s nice to see the cat is making herself comfy.
  • Crunching and munching: you wouldn’t believe the noise that resonates in the night when the cat suddenly starts chewing on her dry food. You can hear each pellet being crushed by her teeth.
  • Tongue clicking: so you think that a cat washing herself makes no noise? Wrong. She produces a variety of tongue clicking and licking and slurping noises as she processes her fur. It’s a good sound to fall asleep to.
The cat on her new cat bed (sofa)
Wot I Shot Wednesday: Emulating My Cat

Wot I Shot Wednesday: Emulating My Cat

It’s probably late for Michael’s Wot I Shot challenge. Or maybe not. To my utmost confusion, I always see Michael’s Wednesday posts on Tuesday. So why not join the Wednesday challenge on Thursday? Time zones clearly elude me.

I took and ruined Michael’s challenge by deciding to participate with the worst of my bad Instagram snaps. I mean to go on like this until Michael bans me. This time, however, I’ve noticed something curious on my Instagram.

I posted two photos after each other, one a portrait of my cat and another a portrait of myself, and we happen to be posing in the same way! The cat has her paw over her face after an exhausting day. I have my own paw over my face because I prefer not to show my face. Literally.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BasHQ2DhvR7/?taken-by=maraeastern

https://www.instagram.com/p/BasPlFTBX7V/?taken-by=maraeastern

Sad Caturday

Sad Caturday

My cat is sad because I can’t sleep, which is keeping her awake too.