You Find Me

Every so often I check my blog's stats to see how people came to FitC. Here are 10 things Google believes FitC is about, accurate or not.

1.) Dirty Cat:

Bagheera is not amused.

 Despite the "FUN" arrows, Bagheera is not having any of your shenanigans.

2.) Serious Research:

Do your own homework. Don't copy mine.

3.) Pervy Fangirls:

You. You GTFO. Now. Because I don't know whether to be offended or turned on.

4.) Do What Now?

I don't know what you want. You want David Bowie? Here's some David Bowie.

When in doubt, you can never go wrong with David Bowie.

Traditional Bagheera Interlude (Part Three)

(Part One, Part Two in Catching Up)

The hardest part about coming to London? Sure, the visa paperwork was a hassle (I ended up having to pay for a rush delivery to ensure my visa would arrive in time for my departure). Moving from the Mayflower building, my little apartment nest in the sky, was an ordeal (my belongings are scattered across the great state of North Carolina now, in various hide-a-holes and attics and trashcans).

But the worst?

Leaving behind my friends and family, my solid and loving support system.

Thanks to technology I can still Skype and chat and leave pithy and witty Facebook comments on my friends pages, but it is a hard lot, to leave behind the ones that I would see daily, the ones that I would dance with, drink with, laugh with.

Included in that is my little man, Bagheera. The UK is rabies free, and the island country intends to keep it that way. Any animal coming in must be kept quarantined for 6 months. Six months. That’s a long time in cat years.

I spent a lot of time agonizing over what to do. Poor Bagheera would suffer me picking him up and crying into his downy fur for hours. How could I make him understand? We were going to have to be apart, and I didn’t know where he would be. I couldn’t stand to have him quarantined. So the decision was made that he would stay stateside.

We were blessed, Bagheera and I, with the generosity and kindness of one Miss Katie-Rose, who opened up her home to Bagheera and loves him as much as I do. Sharsta-star, my homegirl, sister, and constant companion, worked her magic and introduced me to Katie-Rose and her wild child kitty Nico. Katie-Rose and Nico were welcoming to Bagheera, on the condition that when meeting, it did not turn into a kitty bloodbath between the two spoiled alpha males. They would either hate each other or love each other. Luckily, it’s the latter.

They are now plotting to take over the world. Or the tuna. Whichever comes first.



Pic of Nico and Gheera, pre-world domination.

Photo credit: The lovely Miss Katie-Rose, who put on her superhero cape and saved my education and my sanity.

CEO Gheera

Did you collate that memo yet?


All your desk are belong to us!

Death-defying: A Bagheera Interlude

The further adventures of Bagheera Luno, Super Kitty, who is able to leap tall door frames from desk tops in a single bound. He keeps an ever vigilant watch on his panicked mother, who is unaware of his super powers.





I can haz Super Hero theme song?

Bagheera Interlude

I can haz diane von furstenberg bag?

On 7th

There is a house I thought abandoned, on 7th street near where the fateful car crash happened a few months ago, with a large magnolia tree growing over the eves and thorns of its small plot. Yesterday, my house became too small to hold me, and the hours of work sat on my conscious, taunting me through the setting sun. I went strolling through the neighborhood, flaneur indeed, so that my evening was more than sleeping off the weight of the working day. The magnolia tree was bursting with white outstretched hands, blooms as large as my head and I couldn’t help but covet one for my yellow kitchen table. Sneaking into the yard, I climbed the embankment to an unopened flower sleeping on a low branch. It fell into my hand with little effort, the weight and color of a small dove nestled in my palm. It smelled like childhood, an intoxicating aroma of summer. As I trotted back to the sidewalk, I saw a pair of eyes from the seemingly abandoned house watching me. A black dog, witness to my thievery. Sorry, owners of the magnolia tree on 7th, for my thieving hands; Bagheera and I are enjoying it.




Bagheera and the magnolia; curiosity harmless, this time.