Evolution

My little black cat is named Kira (a reference to both the Celtic name Kiera, meaning the dark one, and Kira Nerys, a Star Trek character). When I started spending time with my boyfriend, I found that he likes to play with her name; he'll make little alterations to it to suit his fancy.

One of the first such alterations was Kira Wildebeest. Apparently her manner struck him as wildebeest-like one day, and he's stuck with that ever since. Then, we discovered that she loves the taste of duck, so she became Kira Duck Wildebeest.

When we play with her feet, we talk about her toepads as "beans," and today I was chattering at her about her beans, li'l black beans, frijoles negros, and then the idea of her being a Black Bean Burrito hit me, so I told my boyfriend.

"Wildebeest and Black Bean Burrito," was his response. "Gotta have some meat in there!"

So now my little black cat is Kira, Wildebeest and Black Bean Burrito.

Because life is too short to not embrace a little absurdity now and then.

Fridge Forager

Those moments when I throw open the pantry and fridge and try to pull together something easy and tasty are always exciting. Will I come up with something amazing? Will this be a meal that even the racoons won't touch? It's like my own personal episode of a cooking-related reality show!

Tonight's "episode" was born of necessity; the meal needed to be quick and easy, include protein, only use one pan, and not involve pasta or rice. If I could avoid opening new containers without immediately emptying them, so much the better.

I won. It wouldn't be to everyone's liking, but I was thrilled with the result: scrambled eggs with sprats (similar to sardines) and beetroot-and-horseradish chutney that's been in the fridge since before I moved in. The chutney lightened the oiliness of the fish, the savoriness of the fish played well with the eggs, and it all just worked.

Happy cook, and happy cats who got to lick off the plate.

Section 8

When I started at my current job, I was in a difficult housing situation and trying to pay off a small mountain of debt as quickly as possible. As my coworkers got to know me over those first few months, they heard the horror stories about my then-housemate, and sympathized because most of them had been in similar situations at one point or another.

Since then, things have improved considerably -- I've moved away from the now-ex-housemate, have no housing expenses thanks to the generosity of my partner, and am making headway on my debt -- but there are a few coworkers who haven't heard about the improvements because we work on opposite sides of the building now. One of them came to me this morning to offer me an application for Section 8 (low-income) housing in the town I used to live in, because she thought it might help me get out of the awful situation I'd been in.

I'm touched that she's looking out for me. I'm also dismayed to learn how many of my coworkers are in subsidized housing. To my mind, it speaks poorly of an employer when a significant number of their full-time employees have to rely on social welfare programs to survive. It's a clear sign that wages are too low, and that the employer doesn't actually value his employees.

So... looks like I'll be hitting the job listings again. I wasn't looking forward to seeing how winter weather affects my new commute anyway, so I guess it works out.