I saw a deer the other day on a hike around Cataract Lake near Dillon, CO. It just bounced across our path en route to sniffing out a nearby campsite. As I stood mystified in its path all I could think to myself was…

“Animals kick ass.”

Animals have this inherent healing power. I’m convinced. Not really in the I have a broken arm better bring in a 9 foot Grizzly Bear sort of way, but almost every single person I know that has had major surgery ends up spending their immediate hours of recuperation watching “Animal Planet.” I remember when my father tore his ACL it was straight to the Flying Squirrel specials and poorly produced recreations of a family’s unfortunate camping trip turned encounter with African Flesh Eating Ants (AFEA). But seriously, when he couldn’t move, it was to the Discovery Channel to vicariously explore the unturned crevices of the jungle.

Let’s talk about cats. In all honesty I’m not a giant fan of the domesticated version unless they’re incredibly chubby or fasten themselves into small receptacles. But I don’t really have beef with cats. That’s except for Piano Teacher cats. For some ridiculous reason every Piano Teacher I’ve met has a colony of cats infesting the household. It’s not a horrendous crime against humanity or anything I guess, I did enjoy playing fetch with one trying to get Fred to jump into my piano music bag but every single cat manifestation in existence is available in a Piano Teacher’s domicile. Regular cats, heavy set cats, clawing cats, Jamaican fighting cats, cat pictures, miniature marble cat figurines, cat embroidered pillows, pillows for cats, cat embroidered pillows for cats, cat soup, catsup, Cat Stevens…

But still don’t let this phenomenon steer us away from the true unfathomable power of animals. Just a few days ago I was watching a special on the artificial insemination of elephants with the Pretty Girl Next Door (PGND). Many would surmise that watching a Discovery Channel exclusive on the artificial insemination of elephants (and rhinos) with the PGND would spell disaster but such neigh Sayers would be unequivocally wrong. Most definitely wrong. Oh so wrong because those moments, that mutual experience, that valiant massively awkward effort to preserve an endangered species brought us closer together than ever before. (I’m serious). (No, this actually happened).

So long story short, don’t underestimate animals. Or they will maul you. All of them. At once. Repeatedly. But if you embrace the animal kingdom, the realm of los animales, if you harness the undoubtedly epic power of Flesh Eating Ants, Flying Squirrels, White Horned Rhinoceroses, and even Domesticated Piano Teacher Cats, you can take on the world.

With that said, if you need me I’ll be at the PGND’s house gawking at a special on Camouflaging Sea Snakes.

Labels: animals, discovery channel, funny cat

It’s been a luscious 1 month and 28 days since my last literary blogging masterpiece. There’s a number of factors to blame for the sub-two-month sabbatical: the end of the beloved DeCal Blog, finals, packing, moving back to the CO, free under the table web hosting dropping off of the face of the planet for Kiwimonk, starting the new job… Nonetheless, with a new face to the Think.Kiwimonk blog, and renewed legal web space, there exist definitely good intentions to return to the blogging circuit.

It’s odd being home. Odd in a relatively good way. Comparable to the enjoyable type of “awkward.” I’ve told a few people, well—more than a few, I’ve actually probably beat this saying to death, but when I’m at Berkeley I feel like I’m at summer camp, and when I’m at home I’m on vacation… So essentially I lack a home in this enjoyable pre-adulthood sort of way. For some reason, I’m still not able to comprehend the fact that anything changed in the home-state while I was gone. It’s as if I’m convinced that the world stops whenever I leave. At least it should. I am unable to grasp the idea of any of my younger acquaintances getting any older, and I’m absolutely horrible at recalling what grade anyone is in anymore. You know, when you get to be my age…

I made my rounds during one of my favorite past times, graduation party weekend. Somewhere, in the long abyss of my past I made a pact with my friend Allen to eat at every single Graduation Party I ever attended. Now, this was not just “have a bite of a little something something” at every graduation party, it was “enjoy at least the main course” at every graduation party, “man up and eat” at every graduation party. Needless to say those 10000 Calorie weekends probably didn’t aide my health, but they were unequivocally worth it. My own graduation party is another blog in itself, but I kept to the oath this year as well (of course) and relished in the schmoozing, assortment of graduation cakes, going out of my way to cut out the graduate’s face from the cake…

I’m heading to Vietnam at the end of this month on a family excursion. It’s been almost ten years, meaning the last time my relatives saw me I was a plump, buck-teethed, bowl-hair-cutted animal of a third grader. Without a doubt, I’m excited to travel the mother country North to South seeing family and gorging on ridiculously cheap, freaking amazing Vietnamese foods along the way.

It’s nice to be back, and it’ll be nice to go back. There’s plenty more to reminisce, catch up, reflect, and provide ridiculous commentary on—100 foot slip and slides, the voyage to the eye doctor, high class adventures at Country Buffet.—all in time.

Welcome back.

Labels: Country Buffet, graduation, home, Vietnam