I got scratched and bitten by cats many times in my childhood, because I didn’t know that this facial expression meant “Little girl, if you value your limbs, you will immediately cease your attempts to hug me.”
If I had been raised in a Bengal forest, surely I would have become tiger food before my third birthday.
Because writing a real post requires the use of actual brain cells, I bring you two random photos instead. Hey, it’s better than whining about how I don’t have time to blog anymore now that I have to write for a living.
Soulful puppy eyes. That’s Oreo being completely adorable, as snapped by my mom. Does it not turn your insides into mush? I regularly request photos of the dogs, because I am completely deprived of pet love in Singapore. Woe.
Last Monday I turned 24. It was my first birthday in Singapore, my first birthday at work, my first birthday away from home, and most importantly, my first birthday with two cakes (although I only got to eat one of them).
The first cake came from my coworkers, who threw me a surprise lunch at the office. I went to work expecting nothing, so I was caught completely off guard when they all started singing “Happy Birthday” at noon. Aside from cake we had pizza and a yummy salad that Haydee, one of my coworkers, made herself. They also gave me a large card that they had all signed.
While I can definitely report that my first cake tasted delicious, I can only say that my second cake looked delicious, because I was merely able to enjoy it—and the rest of the birthday dinner my family had prepared for me—over Skype. I chatted with them after I got home from work and “blew” out my birthday candles via web cam. Even our dog Biscuit joined the chat. Check out this picture and tell me she doesn’t look smart:
I swear that dog is a genius! She had her front paws on the keyboard, and somehow she managed to shut down the computer in the middle of the chat by pressing ctrl-alt-del TWICE. Next thing you know she’ll have her own blog, “Biscuit, PhD: The Secret Life of a Canine Genius,” where she’ll write about the digestive repercussions of snacking on dirt and share the best yoga techniques to make gnawing at that hard-to-reach itchy spot at the base of the tail a breeze.
Last Friday I had dinner with Aggie and Chrissa, my closest friends from high school. Chrissa and I hang out pretty often, but we get together with Aggie so rarely that we were quite excited to see her. I also met Aggie’s boyfriend, Art, for the first time, and he shot what would become my new favorite photo of us:
Aggie, Chrissa and me. Photo snagged from Aggie’s Multiply album.
We talked until the mall closed, but it still wasn’t enough. It’s crazy how much we’ve all changed since high school, from the way we look and dress to how we think and approach life. Elaborating would probably make this a long-winded and mind-numbingly boring post, so I’ll just say that the last seven years has brought a lot of positive changes to our lives.
Speaking of changes, I asked Chrissa to adopt Boo, because I won’t be able to take her with me when I move to Singapore. She seemed anxious on the drive over to Chrissa’s house, like she “sensed something big was about to happen” as Chrissa put it. However, she quickly adjusted as soon as we got there and excitedly explored every nook and cranny of her new home.
Anxious Boo turned into Happy Boo. More photos?
I, on the other hand, am not adjusting as well. I miss her so much — and it’s only been three days 
The house feels kind of empty without Boo lying around belly-up, waiting for someone to scratch her tummy. I know it’s for the best, though, because Chrissa and her family are already in love with the little sweetheart. I just know they’ll spoil her rotten.
In other news, I finally got to see Transformers last Sunday! Since everyone has already blogged about how awesome it was, I’ll make this super quick: Shia LeBeouf was hot (he’s the newest addition to my “To Do” list), Megan Fox was hot (if only I looked like that), the robots were hot (I want a Bumblebee of my own). The end.
I have many feline qualities, a fact rarely lost on the people around me. I’m often told by both close friends and mere acquaintances that I remind them of a cat. I get a lot of kitty gifts because of this—cards, plushies, stationery, and even original art. My personal favorite is this picture given to me by a classmate on the last day of a photography class I took in college:
On the back he wrote, “To the only cat person I know, I’ll remember you every time I hear a cat’s meow. So here, take this picture and forget me not.”
I definitely won’t 
My name is Nikki. I possess the personality of a cat and the attention span of a goldfish. This is my blog.