So, my bag of crap finally arrived a day or two ago. I figured that my first post of the New Year should be about it. I’ve been in a state of frantic anticipation since I found out that I had won the Random Crap lottery. But I knew that I needed to calm down, because these mystery prizes are typically shipped from the Carrollton, Texas warehouse via turtle caravan, which is known more commonly by it’s tradename, SmartPost. So, it wasn’t until the 19th that it was shipped, and it wasn’t until the 30th that it arrived, and it wasn’t until the 31st that I actually picked it up from the post office. Here it is, the grand unboxing :

To not spoil anything, hit the jump to get more details:

Well, there are no loseWeight Exercisers with bags of crap, considering the thousands that anxiously try and get them each time. But it seems pretty clear that I am tied for the least-winningest. The loot list is :

34 bags of Texas air
1 MadCatz iPod Power Pro Bundle
1 LowePro Camera Case
1 baseball-type cap

The bare minimum of three items of crap. Some people definitely lucked out more, like this person from the Woot forums. So, was it worth it? Well, from a pure MSRP (not retail) standpoint, I paid ~ $8 and I got about $40-$50 worth of stuff, so I can’t say I was ripped off. However, I didn’t get anything that I will actually use (if anyone wants the iPod stuff or the Camera Case, let me know), so really, all I gained was the excitement, anticipation, and the (momentary) feeling of triumph. Better luck next time, there will be chances for more Random Crap in the future. Oh, and while I’m at it, I’ll toss an obligatory cat picture up.

Gina says this type of tail wrangling is a sign of “extreme excitement”, but whenever I see it I think rattlesnake and impatience. Maki looks at the place where her food should be and it’s not there, and she is PISSED.

As part of my war on meowing, I won’t feed her until she stops meowing. But that’s quite an open-ended condition, so I decided that 15 seconds will be my cutoff. If she stays quiet for 15 seconds, then I will give her dinner. Well, waiting for her to stop meowing for 15 minutes seconds generally takes between 15 and 25 minutes, I would say, and I am not exaggerating. She’s figured out that sometimes when she leaves the kitchen, she comes back and there’s food for her. But most of the time, she runs out of the kitchen and keeps on meowing, which means I do nothing. She runs back in after about 30 seconds, and unleashes a few unhappy chirps. After about 20 minutes, probably by some coincidence, she shuts up for about 20 seconds, and I’m able to feed her.

Now, don’t get me wrong. This cat has a whole, full dish of dry food she can eat as well. She’s not starving. But she wants the good stuff. While I’ve never had a pet myself, I’ve dealt with plenty of pets, and in once instance dogsat for about about nine months while his owners were on sabbatical. The most frustrating about dealing with pets is getting them to understand what you want. In general, most pets want to please their owner, or barring that, just want to do whatever it takes to get some treats. As a scientist, I always put on my analytical hat and try and figure out different experiments to figure out what’s wrong. Obviously, me ignoring the cat wasn’t working. So I figured that maybe she wasn’t getting that I was purposely ignoring her. So, sometimes I looked at her while she meowed her heart out, letting her know that I could see her and I was ignoring her, for some reason. I also tried periodically picking up the food dish and making motions to give it to her until she meowed, at which time I would set it back down on the counter, and wait until she became quiet. My whole goal was to get her to understand that the reason she wasn’t being fed was because she was meowing. But basically, it appeared that my efforts were for naught. No matter what, she continued to cry and whine. My current theory (other than the cat is ridiculously stupid) is that she doesn’t realize she’s meowing — sort of like if I punished you for breathing; you would get pissed that I wouldn’t feed you, because you wouldn’t ever think that your offending action was breathing. Whatever, I’m through with this.

So, as of this moment, I’m giving up. Tomorrow Cameron and Gina return, so its not my problem anymore. But I can’t help but feel that this cat outsmarted me. She frustrated my good intentions, stuck to her guns, and she’s still meowing up a storm. This theory here is supported by the actions of the last night. I waited for her to stop meowing, and probably by some coincidence, she stopped meowing for about 20 seconds, so I gave her dinner. She ran up and took some bites, and then turned to me and meowed really loudly. Yeah, rubbing it in. She had her food and meowing.

She eats with a lot of gusto, and afterwards she does something weird.

She continues to meow while licking her lips and face, which just makes it look like she’s an actor in a poorly dubbed martial arts film. But these noises, they are not noises that she makes regularly. I’m not sure if they’re of the “Oh, I am very content after eating all this food” sort or the “Oh my god I ate so much I’m gonna puke” sort. Probably the latter. One time I accidentally fed her too much and she was extremely vocal afterwards, like she was eminently satisfied.

Alas, our time ended with a stalemate. I never broke down and entertained or fed her while meowing was going on, but she never actually learned to stop meowing. Touché, Maki, and well met. I hope that next time you may find me a more formidable adversary.

However, the main issue I am dealing with is meowing.
This cat meows like a champion. Some breeds of cats, notably Siamese, are more vocal than other cats. Maki is not any particular breed. But meows a lot. Like constantly. So, being the internet nerd that I am, I google up “How to Stop My Cat From Meowing”. The consensus appears to be that assuming that your cat isn’t hurt or looking for some action, ignore it, and only reward the cat when it’s quiet. After a while, it will figure stuff out on it’s own. We’ll see how this works. I’m not sure I can take it much longer.

Oh, and this is for my new biggest fan, kewlchick45

I came in, fed the cat, and then settled in to treat my internet withdrawal symptoms by leeching off of Cameron’s wireless. I printed out some reimbursement forms, and then went looking for a stapler. I figured there would be some in the office, so I wandered into that room. Imagine my surprise when I heard the door shut behind me.

I went to open the door and found it immovable. Something had been propped against the door preventing it from opening. I was wondering how in the world this could have happened, when I heard a maniacal, laughing meow from the other side of the door.

“Maki!” I shouted. “Let me out of here RIGHT NOW!”

Well, about a minute later I hear the printer warm up, and something print. Then a piece of paper was slipped underneath the door. It was a print out of yesterday’s post, the one where I said the cat couldn’t outsmart me. Apparently, she took offense.

Whatever. As soon as this cat got hungry, I would be let out. Imagine my consternation when I hear the fridge people opened, and the can opener being worked. I now realize that it’s not that cats can’t feed themselves — it’s that they want us to do it for them.

Over the next few hours we began negotiations. It took a while to work out a system of communication. As seen in the previous post, Maki can’t write, and as we all know, cats can’t used keyboards like humans can use keyboards. These sort of preliminary talks extended into the night, and continued on through the next day. Most of the discussion centered around number and quantity of meals (she wanted 6 meals spaced 4 hours apart), the amount of time spent scratching her neck (100%), and turning over “the evil one” into her custody. It took me a little while to figure out she was referring to the laser pointer. To exert her control over me, she gave me food by sliding Cheez-its under the door, one at a time. I was pretty sure I could hold out for favorable terms, though, since eventually someone would have to clean the litter box.

After about a week and a half went by, I was starting to get desperate. I had been surviving on Cheez-it’s and leftover Easter candy lying around the room — Cadbury creme eggs are an excellent source of sustenance in rough times. I began to construct a rudimentary lathe out of common household objects, hoping to build some carpentry tools that would help me open the door.

In the end, though, I lucked out. She had managed to push every single ping pong ball into a tight spot underneath the couch, and had no choice but to let me out so I could retrieve them. Well, actually, she just scratched some rudimentary lines into packing paper and slipped it under the door. After a few hours of decoding her script, I realized that she was just telling me that the door to the room opened in, and that I had been pushing out this whole time. Man. How embarassing.

Well, that’s pretty much the reason I haven’t been writing much lately. I couldn’t tell the people at work that I was trapped in a room by cat, though, so I had to tell them I was kidnapped by Colombian druglords and held at ransom, but then eventually released when there were no takers. I have a lot to catch up on, but hopefully there will be things to post and to complain about in the near future.

Cameron has a bunch of packing paper left over from his move, which is nicely and neatly placed away. I’m taken a couple of sheets out, because Maki loves playing on and under the sheets of paper. I think she likes the crinkling sound and the feel of tearing up the paper. Anyways, it’s a lot easier for me because she can just entertain herself.

It’s gotta be frustrating when cat owners spend lots of money on nice toys, and then the cats are most interested in stupid things like pieces of string and cardboard boxes. The ping pong balls have been pretty darn effective. Today I thought that Maki was getting used to my presence. But clearly, it’s a front. Here she is frantically trying to pick up a pen to write for help.

Man, she’s going to be pissed when she finally learns how to write, and then realizes Cameron took the ink out of that pen. That’s right, cat, we’re one step ahead of you. You’ll have to wake up pretty damn early to put one over on me.

7:30
I arrive. No cat to be seen. That always worries me. They’re probably right behind me. I look up. No, no ceiling cat. I investigate further, looking the “office” area. Nope. I turn around. Cat staring at me. A questioning meow. I think she’s intrigued, as in a “Are you aware I am hungry” sort of curiosity. But an attempt to pet her makes her run away.

8:00
I cook myself dinner. I figure that when I’m done, it will be time for her dinner. Maki is going through some sort of inner turmoil. After all, it’s been like 30 minutes and I have not fed her yet. A horror of horrors. She keeps up a constant stream of meows, in denial that her owner is not home.

8:10
Dinnertime. Ah, silence.

8:15
Hmm…finished already. Watching me from under the table, just a little bit out of view. I find this disturbing, like she’s deciding whether or not to start gnawing on my leg.

8:30
Meowing again. My role is clear ; I am here to entertain her. In a general sense, I’m probably just one big ping pong retrieval system to her. She bats ping pong ball somewhere she can’t reach…and I’m supposed to move it. Of course, if I approach, she runs away. By the way, ping pong balls are quite excellent and economical cat toys.

8:35
Moving on to the laser pointer. My favorite cat toy, because it usually means I don’t have to move. Interesting new development….she “barks” at the laser spot. It is clearly quite offensive. If a cat starts getting lazy with me when I’m using the laser pointer, I usually circle the spot around to their backside; that usually at least gets to get up and turn around, in case they get attacked from the rear. I get her really riled up by making the laser spot go into her little bed area. She runs over to defend her territory.

9:00
I think I’ve worn her out. She’s napping underneath the kitchen table, close enough to touch, even, which is closer than I normally get. Progress, or just coincidence?

9:30
Okay, it’s time for another round of play time. I’ve found the other 4 Ping Pong Balls lying around. We’ll also go to the weird mouse tiger thing on a leash. It’s filled with catnip.

9:45
This cat is STONED on catnip. She’s looking at her paw and is seeing 12 dimensions. She reminds me of Peter Griffin on X.

I think I made good progress tonight.