Crazy Cat Lady?!

People often refer to me as a crazy cat lady. I get given cat presents, they hassle me if I pat a cat, that kind of thing. Not sure how I got this status, the most cats I have ever owned at one time is 2.

Anyway, I may have crossed the line this time. I have entered my cat William in New Zealand’s Next Top Cat Model. It is all in the name of charity and good fun. All proceeds go to your chosen cat charity. William has chosen I chose the SPCA – and the money he raises will go to the Dunedin branch. Not only has he got a fundraising page, his Twitter has gone into overdrive and there is even a Facebook page in his honour. Tech overload for a small cat of little brain.

William is a great cat but Mr Pigalina insists that he is simple of brain. This may be so but it is due to no fault of his own. While living in horrid Caversham we lived on the corner of a busy, hilly, street. People would slam their feet down to get up the hill right outside the house. Right where a small black kitten who, in the dark, blended in with the road, would run. The first time Willy was hit he broke his jaw, knocked out one of his fangs – which has never grown back – and his face went a bit wonky meaning he cannot close his right eye fully. The person did not stop. Mr Pigalina and I were students at the time and I am sure the vets at Pet Planet (where we got Willy) took pity on us as they only charged about $80 for xrays and wiring his jaw back together. A BIG THANK YOU TO THEM! The SECOND time he got hit a very panicked lady came to the front door to apologize. Willy was OK this time, having just scuffed his claws. So, you see, he may have lost a few brain cells due to head trauma. But I don’t care.

Willy’s first best friend – Mrs Kensington, was killed by a wandering pitbull when we lived in horrid South Dunedin. Tobias the dog has since taken over that role, so much so that they are now termed “boyfriends“. They snuggle together and wash each other – with their tongues, as animals do.

He squark’s continuously every morning until his favourite fishy meat is presented to him and he hasn’t quite figured out the continuous biscuit feeder. It has only been 3 years. Give him time.

Anyway, it is clear that I love my cat. Just the one. If you also are a William fan now having read his abridged tail tale then feel free to join him on Twitter and Facebook.
Feel free to donate to a very good cause and, in the process, help Willy towards becoming Nz’s Next Top Cat Model.

Check out my single fang With best mate Tobias Note 1 fang, few teeth, and unclosed eye

The Pigalina’s Progress

Having achieved one goal in my life – moving from South Dunedin I am now embarking on fulfilling another – having my own library! Being a nerd child (who me?) I used to play libraries with a springy coat-hanger acting as the stamp. I think I played it by myself… (Someone at work used to play it way more professionally though with tickets and actual lending. Maybe I’m not that geeky after all).
So, here I am procrastinating in a tiny space on the floor in the room that has been designated “The Library”. I unpacked all of the books about two weeks ago and shoved them willy-nilly onto the shelves. I soon discovered that I had outgrown the three bookcases that we had. Today we bought a new bookcase which will house all of the childrens book that I have hoarded since my childhood and others that I have aquired along the way. They will go into another room for when children come to stay. (They never have yet but it sounds good doesn’t it?)
I placed my “Complete Works” books onto the top shelf of one book case, then my boxed set of Lord of The Rings books with my Aragon and Bilbo figurines (I already said I was a nerd). Then I paused. There is a big gap in the middle but what should go there? I also have the complete set of the Harry Potter Books, The Twilight Series and the Adrian Mole books but all of then don’t fit and my Adrian Mole books are unfortunately all different shapes and sizes. Plus, if I dared to put Twilight in a hallowed top shelf spot next to Lord of the Rings I know some people (who haven’t even read it) would be very scathing in their criticism.
So here I sit, wasting time to avoid the rest of my job. I still have to decide how to arrange the rest, Fiction and Non-Fiction obviously but then we must worry about height, hard back or paper back, biography, manual…

No Doubt Another Bad Licence Photo Is On Its Way

I got my full Drivers Licence back in 1999. Gaining your full licence should mean that you have it forever but no, every ten years you have to renew your physical plastic licence and pay $44.30 for the priviledge.
When I got married I still had 6 1/2 years left before my licence expired and there was no way I was forking out money unnecessarily when I had a perfectly good drivers licence.
Finally my expiration date has come around. Mr Pigalina had been asked to put a reminder in his phone – I am not as attached to my phone so didn’t bother putting one in mine. He forgot to (on the same occasion he was asked to put William (our cat)’s birthday into his phone which resulted in William not getting any birthday cards or a party hat as he forgot to put that reminder in too) and it was only when the admin lady at work reminded me that I remembered it was due.
I was apparently supposed to get a reminder and a renewal form in the mail but we have moved from South D (I know!! Hooray!!!) and it did not get sent to my new house (despite having a mail redirection which makes me think it was never sent). As I did not get my renewal form I was not exactly sure what to take with me. I tried to find the Pigalina Marriage Certificate in vain so rang Land Transport to ask them if I needed it seeing as I have a passport in my new name. They told me I did and that if I could not find it I would have to send for a new one and would not be allowed to drive as of Wednesday! So after a much better hunt I found it in a stack of old mortgage papers. (I know, it should be in a frame but considering one of us tested a pen out on the back of the certificate…). Right, finally all good to go, so off I trotted to the Licence place at lunch time. Now, at my work my manager gets anxious if people have been standing in line for about 2 minutes (seriously). I waited for about 15 mins while the people ahead of me booked driving tests, got eye exams and their photos taken etc. When it was my turn I handed the lady my THREE forms of ID only to have a form thrust at me and to be told I needed something with my current address on it. Did I not say previously that I have updated my address with these people?! Yes I did, did I say also that they had failed to send me a form that would have told me what I needed to take? Yes. How about having a board up somewhere that I could have read while waiting in the line? I could have then saved myself 15 minutes. I scurried back to my car in a rage muttering under my breath. There I found a letter from the organisation that I sponsor a child through (Moustapha – cool eh?). I hurried back inside and whizzed through my form. I then went and stood in the line again for another 15 mins hoping that my letter was an acceptable form of ID as it wasn’t a bank statement or bill. People use mailing addresses all of the time so why something showing your address is so important is just annoying.
I thought the lady was rather terse to me because she saw the angry way I had left the building but I think everyone got the same treatment. My letter was deemed OK thank goodness. Then after my eye test I had my photo taken. The lady helpfully did not tell me that the camera would flash 1000 times for red eye reduction before taking it. So after the strobe light had finished I stopped smiling and made a thinking face. Then the stupid camera took the photo. I said “Oh! I thought it had taken it”. The lady looked at the screen and said emotionlessly “No. It’s fine.” Yeah right! My last drivers licence had a scowly faced 17 year old on it who only seconds before had been doing a big cheesy grin. They took it as I composed myself to do a decent one and then they made me keep it. I dread to think what I will have to be flashing about for the next 10 years.

South D’s Ice-Cream Man

ice-cream-man-mom-give-me-a-money

Go to the beach in South Dunedin (sorry, St Kilda) on a hot day – do you see the Ice-Cream man?
Sitting in your garden on a hot day do you hear the Ice-Cream man?
No.
Sitting by the fire at 7.30pm on a cold rainy day in winter do you hear the Ice-Cream man?
Yes, he just went past.

How the Ice-Cream man expects to make any money is beyond me. I am yet to see him and only ever hear him on days or at times in the evening when Ice-Cream is the last thing on my mind. No children rush for monkey blood on a hot summer’s day in my ‘hood. They don’t get a chance.

The DCC’s Newest Way to Anger Pigalina Version 1

Ah, Dunedin City Council. Not content with ignoring public opinion regarding a multi-million dollar stadium; spending millions on an, admittedly lovely though unnecessary, Chinese Garden and bandying around the idea of an extension to the town hall that will ruin the Victorian architecture and block off a whole street, you have started making small annoying changes to anger those you had missed out.

“Thanks to the DCCS new automated parking system to get out of the parking building my blood pressure is rising. We sat on the line of 5 cars while the car parked in front of the barrier got their mate to wait in the huge wye to get a ticket to getouy.
Mummy pigalina stuck 3 parking levels up called to find out what the hold up was. Mr pigalina told pigalina off for growing irate”

I wrote the above in my anger on Mr Pigalina’s phone while waiting for what seemed like 10 minutes to exit a DCC parking building. They have removed the little person sitting in a booth as $12.50 an hour was obviously too much to fork out. The person has been replaced with a machine for you to pre-pay, load your ticket with wizardry and then feed into a machine again to exit. There are two machines for 7 floors. Of course one of them was broken today and everyone who had just come out of the movies needed to use them. We paid and were just driving down the last ramp to leave and joined the que of three cars. We waited. We waited a bit more. 4 more groups of people got into their cars on that level and edged towards the line of vehicles. Still we waited. Had the barrier arm broken? Did the person in the car in front of the barrier not realise they had to put a ticket in the slot? I grew angrier and angrier. Mummy Pigalina phoned from an upper level, somewhere in the line of cars waiting to exit that now trailed behind us – what was happening?
Mr Pigalina then noticed a passenger of the first car – the one that was holding up everyone hop into the car from the pre-pay que where they had only just paid for their exit. EFF-BOMB.
Good one DCC, that never would have happened if you still got to pay a person.

Also, if I am alone and it is night-time I don’t want to lurk about 6 levels away from my car feeding money into a machine. I don’t care that it is well lit.
While you’re at it why don’t you force me to park half-way between home and work so that I can walk for ages in my business casual heels and get hit-on by bogans as I leave the office? You do already by making most of the crappest part of town 60 minute parks and issue tickets with gusto for those disobeying? Job well done DCC.

Pigalina’s Pride Cameth Before a Poo Evening.

I went to The Warehouse today – where everyone gets a bargain, including me. I was very proud of the top that I managed to get for $5.59. I was so proud that I announced my bargain-hunting ways to the ladies in the staff room back at work.
After work though was when my descent into money losing misery began. First I had a $30 parking ticket wiggling in the breeze under my windscreen wiper. (Shh, don’t tell Mr Pigalina, he will be super mad at me as he tells me a lot not to illegally park in the car park and I still do – won’t be doing so again). This is despite my workmate kindly washing the chalk from my tyre when he went out to move his car having been given warning that the parking wardens were on patrol. (I know, this is my own fault and I shouldn’t moan but those who live and work in Dunedin will know what an absolute nightmare it is to get parked for a whole day without forking out half a day’s wages in fees per week. Even in South D).
From there I headed to the supermarket to do the groceries – always a favourite activity. Having run out of all the expensive stuff such as laundry detergent, face wash, deodorant, and having to buy extra stuff such as dog worming pills and $20 worth of fibre pills for those of use who have an irritable bowel (what? Just sharing) saw the grocery bill come in at $285.74!! I was sweating slightly as I watched the bill grow and grow on the little screen.
So, onward to home, for some reason instead of just turning onto the one-way and heading straight home I went past the turnoff and ended up stuck in a traffiic jam. For some reason, despite there being a number of office buildings with space for lease, one in Dunedin has decided to block a whole lane of one of the busiest roads with a crane to add 3 storeys to its top. This led to me sitting in the left turning lane not moving an inch for five, that’s five, changes of the lights.
Finally home, in my haste to get into the house and relax I hopped out of the car and locked my keys inside. Arrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhhhh. Luckily I had popped the boot or almost $300 of groceries would have been trapped inside. Mr Pigalina insisted that there was no way to get through to the rest of the car from the boot. Mr Pigalina’s uncle tried to open my car with his keys and a wire but failed. I will now have to pay for someone to come and get them out for me because of course we are not in the AA. It will be just my luck that some South D urchin will smash my window and steal my car in the night thanks to my handily placed keys.

Twas such a small pride why such an annoyingly large fall?