Mojito!

We had an intoxicating time in South Beach.
It's not always teatime with Gata!

It's a hurricane! No, just a rainy portion of my lovely weekend in West Palm Beach. I'll have more pictures soon.

On Holiday

I'm wearing tights in sunny Florida. Wow, what a rebel.

Anonymous

I was rather disturbed at the nasty comments I received over the weekend. Naturally, I deleted them all so no one else would have to be exposed to such bile.

Whoever wrote these comments obviously had nothing to do on a Friday night, and lacked the courage to at least leave a name. I guess his or her opinions were not worthy enough to own up to, even by their source(s). The speling left muc h to bee desyired as wel.

My blog is written mostly for my own benefit, and secondly for my friends or anyone who happens to enjoy what I write about. If it's not what you're into, you simply have to move on. I certainly don't force it on anyone. Besides, I could see receiving criticism if I were getting paid for writing, but since I'm not, back off already!

Finally, I have been careful not to include political, religious, or even moral items in my posts. At best I've expressed disdain at bad etiquette. So why all the comparisons to leaders spanning from France to Cambodia? This is not the forum for such ideas anyway.

PS: Don't mess with my friends! They are not mousy or whatever else you like to call them; they are attractive, intelligent individuals who don't deserve your hypocritical musings.

That's all I'd like to say on that subject. We now return to my crazy cat/book/tea loving blog.

Day Tripper

One of my favorite places in London, right off High Street Kensington. I've never been there in the summer...it looks like they have outdoor seating...they never had that in April!

Anyway, it's a lovely place to get cream tea (the best scones in the world!) and not break your budget. Then you can walk to nearby Kensington Church Street and browse the antique shops until you get to Notting Hill. Now that you have all the caffeinated energy and a satisfied belly, it's time to blow all the pounds in your wallet on Portobello Road!

Regular? REGULAR?!!!!

I had breakfast at a coffee shop near my home. The waitress (server, to be PC, which I'm not) was really helpful and friendly. Sadly, like everyone who works in a non-tearoom, I did not get a satisfactory response when I asked for the tea choices. She read off a list of Celestial Seasonings herbal varieties, and then finished off with "regular tea". What does that mean? In diners it usually refers to Lipton Orange Pekoe, in the same old bag.

Sir Thomas Lipton, a pioneer in the tea industry and great businessman, would be appalled to hear such a title being conferred on his tea, especially as I believe his tea plantation was located in Ceylon, modern day Sri Lanka. Can't the restaurants at least call it Ceylon tea? If I were to order a bottle of wine, would I say "Regular Wine"?!! And what about green tea, which was much more common in the past than black tea (yes, and couldn't restaurants at least say black tea????) Would not green tea be more regular than black tea? Women spend long, hot hours picking tea leaves in many countries: for what? "What do you pluck?" "Just regular tea."

La La La LAAAAA!

I've been suffering from both insomnia and nostalgia.

The nostalgia results from my recent reminiscence of our old karaoke days in Chelsea Piers. I know how corny karaoke sounds, but it was so much fun! It's the best way to live out one's inner rock star. Of course, the reason most karaoke venues are bars is because most people need a bit of alcohol to exorcise their own personal Diana Ross, Freddie Mercury, or perhaps Frank Sinatra.

In the Chelsea Piers days, the karaoke room above the bowling alley was the best, and safest, place to go. It wasn't strictly a bar, as many of my friends were underage and had full access to the "stage", the little space in front of the dj's equipment. I rarely drank myself, unless you count the hot tea I predictably consumed to help out my voice (the cigarette smoke tended to be stifling, this is before recent smoking laws were enacted).

My first impression of the place was that the dj (Spencer) was a bit of a ham himself. He would walk around with the "good microphone", as opposed to the mediocre ones attached to the screen, and would sing "Always and Forever", "Maria Maria", or whatever, directing lyrics to the females in the audience. By time he was finished crooning, we'd all be in the mood to have a turn. We had slips to fill in our song choices (I'd usually fill out four of them - yes Marie I am the Karaoke Hog) with our names. I of course used Gata, mainly because I liked how it sounded being announced by Spencer ("give it up for La Gotta!").

It was fun when there was a good crowd to cheer you on, but not so large as to make it feel rowdy. One woman was so excited about being up there that at the end of a Mary J. Blige song she put in her own lyrics: "I'm singin', I'm singin', I'm singin" in Chelsea Piers!" What a great way to unwind on a Friday evening.

On recollection, I only made it there a handful of times. Marie was there the most, and maybe Erica. I brought my camcorder twice, and got some awesome blackmail footage (of myself, too...how did I think I could sing a Wham song?) But those were some of the best Fridays or Saturdays in recent years. Even preparing for it was fun, dressing up a little, planning which songs we'd like to try. This is what made it so sad the day we came all ready to go and found a pool table in place of Spencer. I still don't understand why Chelsea Piers stopped having karaoke: was it not cost-effective? Was the sight of two white boys singing "Baby Got Back" too traumatic for Spencer? Not that I'd blame him.

This was five years ago, and much has changed since then. But, cheesy as it sounds, I put a good Karaoke night up there with a great book, a fragrant Darjeeling, or a purring kitten.

Speaking of which, now that she's in heat, little Zenobia has kept me up the past few nights with her constant wailing and moaning. I think she's having her own karaoke nights. Make it stop!

The Afternoon Tea Cat

The perfect view...or, dare I say it, the purrfect view?

Lately

My life has been completely uneventful in the past few weeks. I've read some good books and complained about the weather, but nothing really momentous.

Well, I had my first root canal. It's something. So boring. They had Who Wants to be a Millionaire on the TV during some of the procedure, but trivia shows are so fun when you can't shout out the answer. In my case I did get some correct answers, but all I could say was "ahgl" which didn't make any sense. Then a soap opera came on, to my utmost horror. Why is it that every time I've been subjected to one of these shows they play the same restaurant scene? A middle-aged couple sits at a table - not that they ever eat anything. Sometimes they have a glass of wine, which they will peer over seductively. There is the same dull piano tune playing in the background, and the couple is never interrupted by a waiter. I exercised all my self-restraint to keep from gagging, between that and "Mr. Thirsty".

There has been a possible death in my cat family. Not Zeno or Sino, of course, but the gang that eats dry food from our kitchen window. A black cat we call Sweetie has not showed up in considerable time. She was the last of four kittens that started coming to our window in 1999. There were 2 black cats and 2 tiger cats. The female tiger, Peep, was the friendliest. Sweetie was the only one who never allowed us to touch her. Perhaps she was the smartest, as the rest of the gang got bumped off within 2 years' time. Now there are all new cat families out there. Though Sweetie peacefully co-existed with them (with the exception of a family of orange cats that didn't last long), she had one long-term companion: a black and white tom whom I still haven't named. They were spotted mating, cuddling, and sharing food. Now he comes to the window alone, which he hardly ever did when Sweetie was around. I think foul play was involved, though 6 years is a long life-span for an outdoor cat.

Well, life goes on, hopefully a little more lively in the upcoming weeks. Are you still awake?

Under the Weather

Look at my babies. I stayed home most of the day on Saturday - it was pouring out, come on! The window was open, with a screen in it of course. Both Sino and Zeno started sniffing the air by the window, like it was the most wonderful thing. Actually, it was quite nice.

P.S. Love the new Barnes and Noble on 46th and 5th - right near my job! Though it was a little chilly inside, it was just what the area needed. Bon and I indulged...

In Astoria?

I must say I was floored when I found out there would be an actual tea room in my own town. The only thing surpassing this pleasant surprise was the fact that they use loose tea in real teapots! Shock of all shocks! I don't have to walk to Woodside or Flushing anymore; even better, I don't have to jump on the 7 train.

The Himalaya Teahouse is on 31st Avenue, which is a bit risky since it's the avenue least likely to be called a restaurant strip in Astoria. Still, it makes for a more peaceful experience. The inside is painted in dark blue and yellow. Usually the lighting is rather dim, but the staff occasionally adjust the lighting so one can actually read the menu. Generally I prefer a light situation I could read a good book with, instead of giving me the feeling that I may have stumbled into an opium den.

As for the menu...I love love love, and maybe I love, the fact that there is a wide variety of tea. Black, green, oolong, rooibos, flavored, herbal, iced, they got it all. Hot tea is served in Yixing teapots, which stay hot for quite a long time. As for iced tea, I recommend the matcha lemonade. It makes Starbucks' version taste like cod liver oil in comparison! Starbucks is no match-a for this place (wow that was corny), except when it comes to the food department. The dumplings are just fine, probably the best food on the menu. I haven't tried the soup yet, but I'm not usually up for soup when I'm already drinking hot tea. The soy beans in their pods with sea salt sprinkled on top....not really. Overpriced and incredibly boring. Finally, the dessert. It's some kind of flat pastry crust thing, perhaps reminiscent of what comes of baking in the high altitudes of the Himalayas. It tastes fine, but when it comes to tea treats, I feel an Oliver Twist line coming on.

The staff is friendly, no complaints there. The server, I should find out his name, told me they may have butter tea available soon. Sounds gross, but I must try it once.

Overall, I really like the Himalaya Teahouse, and hope it stays open! A few finger sandwiches might help, though.

Four...Four...Four...Four...

I was discussing past trips I've taken with a co-worker of mine, and I noticed a pattern. Besides London and a couple of days trips (or the times in my childhood when I spent weeks upstate,) everywhere I've been to I've spent just about four days there. Really. PR, Jamaica, Montreal (if you add the two weekend trips,) Ireland, Scotland, Toulon....there's probably more than that but off the top of my head, that pretty much covers it. And it's all been 4 days/3 nights, or 3 days/4 nights. So odd. Actually I don't really like admitting 4 days to some of these places. For instance, I tell someone I've been to Peru. First they look slightly impressed, but then they ask me for how long. Then it's "oh, you really can't get the real feeling of a place that way, etc." How deflating. Maybe I should re-visit these places, gain some street cred or something.

OK, I was in Florida 5 days, but who's counting?

In My Head

For over a week I've had the same song in my head, no matter what else I listen to in order to cram it out. The song is "White Queen" from, you guessed it, Queen, in 1974. It's a pretty song, kind of airy-fairy, but it's like a formerly welcomed guest that now refuses to leave! A few nights ago I was rudely awakened by a pathetic moan-inducing upset stomach that kept me close to the bathroom for a few hours (you don't need to visualize this, please). When I'm in this predicament, I get all Peter Pan, saying to myself "think happy thoughts!" whilst trying to avoid anything in the subject of food. Instead, White Queen pounded insistently in my nauseous mind. So sad...

I'm feeling better now, for the most part, but the White Queen continues her procession in my head. So I thought I'd share a picture of its singer convalescing with his kitties, sort of the way I was a few hours after my ordeal. Except Sino and Zeno are not quite that close yet.

Zeno and Sino

It's been interesting to watch my two cats of differing ages try to live in the same apartment. The whole scene is almost the opposite of what happened ten years ago when I brought Duforth home. She was already past the kitten age, and was used to having her own life, a rhinestone studded collar, and her own very private litterbox. Next thing she knew she was living with a flashlight beam-chasing, food-hogging, active litterbox user who was pretty happy being the only one of his species in his world. They clashed straightaway. Then they slowly learned to get along, in their own cautious way. He even seemed to miss her after she was gone.

Now Zenobia, though resembling Duforth, is the flying puffball at home. They have separate litterboxes but are not afraid of exploring. Sino must be cut off from the kitten dry food because his stomach is so sensitive now. Zeno, however, is not afraid of sampling his delicacies. His only revenge is to drink her water, which doesn't seem to faze her at all. He sees her bat things around and run back and forth all day but doesn't join in. Instead, he watches in a hunched stance, like a feline Walter Matthau.

Occasionally he takes a swipe at her, but she usually runs away. Someday she may fight back, the way Duforth did, causing him to squint and cringe whenever he saw her. Till then, she seems to be the cautious one, trying not to get in his path. Why can't everyone just get along?

Just Ducky

I went to the New York Botanical Gardens last week, sans my Rebel 2000. I had to make do with my camera phone. It took me a while to make friends with the first duck, who sunned himself as I tried to call to him. It's worse than getting a cat to look at you! Then I remembered I had bread. As soon as I started unwrapping it, he made a beeline for my hand. Next thing I knew his girlfriend was getting in on the action. I took the second picture right as she tried to eat my shoe! Such a peaceful way to spend an afternoon.

Junkie

I've been sick this week. Compared to January, it wasn't so bad, just bronchitis. Still, I had to go on antibiotics which I dislike and I had some migraine prescriptions to fill. By the time I was able to drop everything off at Eckerd, I had 5 prescriptions! What am I loading into my system? I'm surprised I'm able to walk down the street with all the crazy chemicals in my body. And people wonder why I rarely wear heels.....

As a result (I think) I had some odd vivid dreams last night. Apparently my Book Study group took a road trip to New Orleans and we stayed at the home of someone I knew many years ago from out west. Huh?

A Cup of Disappointment

A few days ago I went to Cup near the movie theatre and was surprised by their new menu. While there are some improvements, I was not happy. It turns out that my major reason for going there, the awesome Big Cup of hot cocoa, is no longer. It was replaced by what must have been Swiss Miss.

On the bright side, I had Godiva Hot Cocoa and it was not bad at all. What I really miss is the Cadbury version that I had in Bath. It was so good I almost gave up tea right then and there. Oh not quite, an hour later I was partaking of afternoon tea in the Pump Room.

Beautiful Day

While Sino cuddles at home (this is actually an older pic of him when he was much heavier) I have to spend my day at work. I don't mind, it's such a gorgeous day that even the hour or so I spent outdoors was an absolute pleasure.

I had a Matcha Green Tea Blast at Jamba Juice. Dare I say it - I liked it better than the Frappuccino! I think it was the sorbet that made it special. Perfect for sipping in a park on a splendid August day.

Also, I finished The Big Over Easy by Jasper Fforde. This guy writes some of the most imaginative and hilarious books of our time. Since around 2002 he has been writing a book or so every year, and I always look forward to the next one. Everyone I know who reads his novels is an avid addict. Some day I would like to meet Fforde.

Bin it!

Compared to most apartments in NYC, mine is quite roomy. I only share it with one person, which makes the bathroom situation ideal For some reason, though, my home is always a mess. Always! Every room is filled with papers, books, clothes, stuff! We have many closets, which is little consolation as they are all full. I've learned to walk gracefully simply to be able to navigate around the apartment without stubbing a toe.

The worst of it is, I've thrown out or given away so many items in recent months. Somehow, though, I keep accumulating - even when I do lay off the shopping, Bonnie. I can't get it together. Is this an indication of some kind of mental issue, or am I just making excuses? Is there some kind of therapy program for the chronically disorganized? Packrats Anonymous? I don't want to end up on one of those home makeover shows, crying over complete strangers throwing out my things ("Catherine, do you really need all those teapots?" "But I'm the Tea Queen of Astoria!" "No, you're the Rubbish Queen and we're gonna auction off all your teapots." "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" )

On the positive side, I just cleaned up my desk at work. It is possible....

Teany

The Tea Queen pays a royal visit to Teany.

"We are charmed by this pristine tearoom," she says, "it is not at all quaint."

Picture Show

From Top:
1: Sino in action
2: Bon and Bubuck in a relaxed moment (after a tea party)
3: Beautiful boy
4: View from kitchen window in January. Birds are not afraid of the backyard cats, because we feed them well. Spoiled brats!
5: Me with my "niece" Sheba, the day she wore a sweater.

Zenobia Pic!

My new fluffy kitty! On the nasty ratty floor of my "library." She doesn't seem to mind.

Zenobia Violet Dufifth

The thing that keeps me up all night. It's a good thing my kitten is utterly adorable, because she Insomnia personified (or catified?). During the day she hides under the furniture and dashes past whoever wants to get close to her. Then at night she comes alive. Just when I sink into my first few minutes of sleep, she leaps onto the bed and starts kneading me. With her crazy sharp claws. All night long. First I groan and tell her to stop, and try to pet her so she'll feel appreciated. Then I moan and say mommy needs to sleep, and gently push her off. Next I put a barricade of pillows around me, which she somehow surmounts. After a few hours of constantly being walked on and needled, I hear myself screaming: "gabaraawaramaaaa," which in sleep talk means "expletive!", and I hear her scamper away and mew somewhere in a corner. Then I start feeling guilty, and look at the time and realize it's time to get up for work. So I get out of bed and see her making a fun for it under the dresser. That's why I'm so sleepy. I still think she's fabulous.

My New Baby

I'm the proud owner of a 5 month old Persian kitten. Her name is Zenobia and she is truly regal looking. Well, she will be when she stops looking frightened of her new surroundings. I guess I'd look like that too if I saw my apartment for the first time.

I first saw her two weeks ago in Sunnyside. She was on display in the front of the petshop and I was startled. She had a remarkable resemblance to my dearly deceased Duforth, although not the same breed and not as vacant looking. But the selling price was far too steep, so I walked on. Two weeks later she was still there, and a hundred dollars cheaper! This was irresistible.

Last night Marie took me over to the pet shop. I was a bit alarmed when I saw Zenobia get freaked when taken out of her cage. I took her home anyway.

She is still in her hiding and don't-pick-me-up phase, but I think she'll work out eventually that she's home. Meanwhile, I'm wondering how we are going to introduce her to Sino, but they are being kept at opposite ends of the house for the time being.

I'll post a picture as soon as I possibly can.

Fall Fashion Preview

This year I'm a little too excited about fall fashion. Part of it is, I believe, comparing this fall to the last one. I remember poring through two of those massive September fashion mags in one evening. It was in the waiting room of the Elmhurst Hospital, where my sister was getting an appendectomy. I had to get my mind off what was going on down the hall, so I looked at every page diligently. It was so disappointing - tweed overload, boring boring boring! I like what I see for Fall 2005 - not that I can actually buy anything featured in the glossy ads. Still, I find fall colors reassuring. Everything is deep and rich, velvety and soft. Much more conducive to tea drinking and pastry gorging than sleeveless summer dresses, and not as stifling as husky January overcoats. Plus I prefer boots to sandals - and one has the choice of wearing both from September thru November. There is only one problem. In autumn the fabrics and colors fall prey to pet hair. I have to refrain from cuddling my Cinnamon in the morning. I don't think he'll mind.