I am my neighborhood's eccentric cat lady.

I've accepted it. And why not. Every neighborhood has one, why shouldn't I be her (she be me?)? Whatever.

You've seen my sweet girl Vladdy with me in my profile pic, but let me just come straight out and say it. There are 4 more at home in addition to her.

I know what you're thinking.

"5 cats? Criminy, that's a lot of critters!"

But I've really embraced my position in the neighborhood and I think I remember reading somewhere that 5 is the bare minimum you can have and still be considered "eccentric." Phew! Just made it.

"So how does one come to have 5 cats," you ask? It's really easy - you can do it too. Let me show you how.

About 3-1/2 years ago, I came home from work one day and there was the scrawniest little orange tabby I've ever seen on my front sidewalk. He was a polite and well-mannered gentleman and it was clear he hadn't been getting regular meals for some time. I would have been remiss if I hadn't done something to rectify that unfortunate situation. Luckily, I remembered I had a can of tuna in the house and before you can say "Presto," I had a cat. Now I just needed to know what to call him. Hmmm. He showed up right before Halloween, he was orange, and he was quite adept at sneaking around and startling me when I least expected it, thus, his name is Spooky. He is handsome utterly charming. And such a skilled hunter! Why, I once saw him leap into the air and snatch a bird right out of the sky, and he presents me with his trophies on a regular basis. I firmly believe he is still greatful for that first can of tuna.

Next came Bella. She's a cute, precious and very fluffy black and white tuxedo girl. She used to hang out with the neighbors down the street (and was named by their 4-year-old) but she decided she likes us better and she never goes "home" anymore. I can't say I'm unhappy about that. She is very gentle, though mildly feral and doesn't trust strangers. Unfortunately, if she hasn't met you 100 times, you're a stranger. I honestly believe Bella is mildly "challenged." She forgets. But Spooky takes really good care of her. They both prefer living outside and the two are inseparable. It really is adorable.

I thought for a while that our furry family was complete until I got a call from a friend about a year and a half ago. Her neighbor's cat just birthed a liter and the neighbor couldn't keep them. Did I know anybody who could take in one or more kittens? Why yes! Yes I did. The babies were only about a week old when I first saw them - their eyes weren't even open yet. We had to wait weeks and weeks before they were old enough to leave their mother, and we visited them every week until then so they would know us and not be frightened when we brought them home.

All of them were nearly solid black with one exception. A tiny tuxedo! My friend decided she looks just like her own cat Amir, and so the kitten was immediately dubbed Amir, Jr. A.J. is a sweet lap kitty who loves to watch me cook. She jumps up on top of the cabinet closest to the stove and watches every move I make. She cocks her head to the side like she's thinking about whether she would make the same spice-choices.

The second looked just like a little bear, or maybe even a Wookie. She was the cutest little thing. Black as night with just a small white blaze on her chest and a miniscule white dot on one ankle. I knew she would be perfect for my husband.

She always looks mildly grumpy or "put out" and my husband, book-junkie that he is, named her after a loveable old grouchy character he likes. Kitty's name is Trout. We always have to explain it, but she is sort of clumsy and a little grouchy so the name suits her. She is such a beautiful cat. If Merriam Webster wanted a picture of the perfect feline, it would be Trout.

While I dearly love them all, I've saved my darling Vladdy for last. She is my dark angel. She was the runt of the litter - only 3 or 4 inches long the first time I saw her. As I said, her eyes weren't even open, but when I picked her up and cradled her in my arms she immediately climbed my shirt and snuggled up against my throat. She is solid black, with one exception - she also has a blaze on her chest that is more a defined circular shape than Trout's. She's grown into them somewhat now, but when she was tiny, her ears were the same size they are now. They were gigantic on her tiny little head. With her little pointy face, big ears and (we were soon to learn) her penchant for hanging upside down, she looked for all the world like a cute little fruitbat!

So...
1) she's bat-like
2) with jet black, smooth short fur
3) and an avid neck nuzzler
Since I have a thing for vampires as well as cats, it made perfect sense to name her after the Dark Prince himself. Dracula. Vlad Dracul. And presto...a cat named Vladdy was born!

So as you can see, there are no Socks, or Mittens or Tigers for me (not that there's anything wrong with that). My babies' names are utterly unique. Just like they are.

Bellydance is not for wimps.

Almost 2 years ago I got a call from my best friend asking me if I'd like to take a dance class with her and some other friends. I love to dance so my interest was immediately peaked. Then she told me it was a bellydance class. I wasn't sure what to expect but I figured what-the-heck.

The first night of class there were a hand full of newbies like us, but there were also several women there who were taking this introductory course for the third or even fourth time. I really didn't know what to make of that. I figured maybe they hadn't built their stamina up enough to move on to the next level. Or something. I just didn't know.

The instructor introduced herself as Rajah and told us that in 8 weeks time we would learn the choreography for an entire dance routine which we would perform at the upcoming Hafla (sort of a dance party for bellydancers.)

Was I terrified? You bet your sweet shimmy, I was!

Before this class, I had never had any formal dance training - though I've been told I'm no slouch on the dancefloor at a nightclub. But I was looking for a new form of exercise, something I would enjoy and that wouldn't seem like work, and I was determined to give it a go.

Fast forward four weeks. My friend had decided that she is not a bellydancer and she bowed out gracefully, but I was hooked. I loved the sounds, the rhythms, the costumes. It was all so strange and beautiful.

Now, almost two years later, I still love it. Rajah, who almost exclusively taught the modern egyptian style, has moved away. Sahdia is now our instructor and she enjoys incorporating other styles into our training and she's teaching us about tribal fusion this session. There is so much variety in the syles of bellydance, and there are new fusions of existing styles that pop up.

As I learn from these wonderful instructors and research styles on my own, I'm finding that I love tribal fusion and gothic bellydance. Their darker, edgier costumes, music and sinuous moves (and sometimes pops and locks) appeal to my dark side. My instructor is encouraging me to do a solo at our next group performance - it would be my first - and I think I want to do a gothic style dance. I'm currently looking for the perfect song around which I can build the perfect costume to set the mood for my perfect dance. I'm thinking perhaps Jill Tracy or Switchblade Symphony but I'm always open to suggestions if you have them.

So did I perform in that first Hafla? Well, yes I did, but not well, I'm afraid. My shyness, fear and lack of confidence saw to that. But I have performed twice since and each time I did better than the one before so at least there is evidence that I'm learning and growing in the tradition.

I joined the ranks of those women who took the beginning session multiple times - I took it five times, myself. The reason? It's hard! Go on youtube and check out some of the videos. Those wonderful women make it look so easy but it's not. It's incredibly fun, artistic and rewarding, but Bellydance is not for wimps.

I have since moved up to the next level - intermediate, as it were and there's just no telling how long I'll hang out there. Years, most likely. And one day I'll make it look easy too.

It's all about atmosphere

Old-fashioned Gothic horror is a passion. So much of what passes for horror these days is simply gore and splatter but I much prefer the old, blood-frozen-in-my-veins feeling I got as a child when I first read Poe's The Raven and The Tell Tale Heart.

There's nothing in the world like a good ghost story. Shadows and atmosphere, gargoyles, candles, billowing fog, an avenue of huge old trees leading up to a slightly past-its-prime old manor house, perhaps a swampy marsh or dense forest - these are images that are sure to make my pulse pound and my breath quicken. And if, by chance, there is a family cemetary plot or mausoleum on the premises (and, dare I hope? a Vampire?) I experience a paroxysm of ecstasy!

New(ish) music

Twilight creature that I am, I'm always looking for new music that thrills me. Thank GOD for the internet! Because my musical tastes (and some other tastes as well) are somewhat...less mainstream in my hometown than they might be in some other, larger cities, if it weren't for the web I would never hear of some of the more interesting musical trends that sprout up.

Subgenres are popping up all over. Surf punk, psychobilly, thrashabilly, trashabilly, punkabilly, surfabilly, and gothabilly, dark cabaret, goth cabaret, deathrock, punk cabaret, gothic-Americana, punk opera, neo-burlesque, gothic ragtime, vaudeville (yes, vaudeville), apocalyptic folk, neo-folk, psych folk - It's really amazing the wealth of variety you can find if you just look for it.

Now, because so many of these (and still other) genres are so very closely related, and because different artists interpret the terms differently, I won't attempt to label the specific genres I like. I will, however, list a few artists or groups who I believe are worth keeping an eye out for, figuratively, of course. In no particular order, they are:

HorrorPops
The Creepshow
Jill Tracy
Voltaire
Switchblade Symphony
The Birthday Massacre
Emilie Autumn
The Ghastly Ones
Creature Feature
The B Movie Monsters

Now Kitties, I believe folks should be somewhat self-sufficient, so here. I've given you a starting point. Go knock yourselves out.

3am

It's 3am - the Witching Hour. The hour some say the veil between the realm of the living and the dead is thinnest. Certainly the raven blackness of night pressing against my window is dense enough to lend itself to such eerie thoughts.

My eyes continue to stray to the glass. Logic and reason tell me there is nothing there, and I am safe and secure in my happy home. Yet, something woke me from my slumber. Something pulled me from my warm cocoon.

I sit now before this cursed machine trying to capture thoughts as they flit randomly through my skull. I fear all such attempts, however valiant, may be in vain. The vague sense of unease persists and I know not from whence it came.