The Kitty Post

Their Eyes All Seem to Ask, "Will You Take Me Home?"

Lately, I've been researching different cat shelters in my area--going in person to scratch their chins and say hello or just reading about all the kitties on various shelters' websites. It is so sad how many cats (and other animals) there are l i v i n g i n c a g e s. I happen to be a cat person, but I care for and love all animals. Even young cats or kittens that you assume will be adopted soon might spend the most formative years of their lives in a tiny square cage losing their excitement or curiosity. It literally pains me to think about all these cats--I wish I could help them all in some way. But I know all I can do is give one (or two or three) a loving home.


It amazes me that there are so many young cats and kittens out there that have slight health problems, like they require eye drops every day, or have already had a negative experience that has tainted their demeanor and has made them a little more cautious. I wish I was in a better position right now to help young cats with minor health problems, who can still live long, happy lives but just need someone to love them and take care of them.


It also seems like there are always more black cats at all the shelters I visit. Maybe people think they are not as cute because they are only one color? I don't know. Today I visited a shelter that had quite a few older kittens (10+ weeks) in a room with older cats. Once the kittens reach a certain age, they are moved from the room where younger kittens are kept, and in with the cats that are mostly at least a year old. All of these older kittens were black and were the only kitten left of their litter. I fell in love with a 12-week old black kitten that truly loves being loved. He never stopped purring and wanted nothing to do with going back in his cage--he just wanted to be held. Tomorrow I'm journeying back to that shelter to (hopefully) adopt him. I have fallen in love with so many cats, and I just want to
give one a home already.

Note to Self: You Can Never Have Enough Quarters

This afternoon I had an eye exam in the city. Although the office is located not too far from where I live, it's far enough away that suburban luxury parking transitions into a quarter per fifteen minutes. My boyfriend accompanied me since he had the day off. As soon as I put the car in park, I searched various compartments in my car for quarters to drop in the meter. I found two. That will be plenty, I thought. But two quarters only bought me a half-hour of parking space. Ricky rummaged through his pockets and found one more, so we upped our legal parking time to forty-five minutes.

I was already a few minutes late since driving through Davis Square in Somerville, MA consists of driving a few feet and then waiting with your foot on the brake as pedestrians fly at you from all angles, seemingly out of nowhere. Due to my already accomplished tardiness, I decided forty-five minutes was more than enough. We seemed to be out of quarters anyways.

After ten minutes with the eye doctor, he told me he was going to dilate my pupils and then have me back in his office after about twenty-five minutes to check for something or other. I got a headache in the waiting room, everything was blurry, and I was just generally pissed off that I had to wait. I forgot about the parking meter.

Fifty minutes later, as we were walking towards the car, I spotted the meter lady. Even though the parking lot was practically empty, she was writing tickets, justifying her job. As soon as my car was in sight, I noticed the dreaded orange envelope tacked on my windshield. Great. What's it gonna be, fifteen bucks? Twenty?

It was thirty.

Note to self: Keep plenty of quarters stashed in car at all times. The meter lady doesn't care if you got your pupils dilated and had to sit in the waiting room for an extra half hour. You can't dispute it, you just gotta pay it.

Also, if you are angry at the ticket residing on your windshield and decide to throw it out the window while you are driving away or let it sit on the counter for the next few months, you will end up owing even more than thirty bucks. So just pay it. And next time, make sure you have quarters.

Thrifty in Las Vegas

After I wrote my first blog post on here, I realized I dabbled in the topic of thriftiness quite a few times. I decided thriftiness could be a common theme in my blog posts. I'm always searching for ways to spend less whether I'm doing the weekly food shopping or on vacation in Las Vegas. More than ever, we are watching our budgets. But it's not always easy when everything seems so expensive.

Here are some tips for vacationing in Las Vegas (many of these apply to other vacation destinations as well):

1. Find Those Hotel Deals-- Once you decide where you are heading off to for vacation, it's easy enough to book a hotel room within minutes on the Internet. Instead of booking right away, take your time. Check out the rates of different hotels in the area you're interested in staying and ask around. Maybe someone you know has found a good deal in the area. Also, with the way the economy is, hotels are desperately trying to fill the rooms. Periodically, hotels have deals in which you have a limited number of days to book your room. Sign up for their mailing list and they'll most likely alert you when deals are going on. Keep checking the rates either way!

NOTE: Many hotels/casinos in Vegas have membership cards that are free to sign up for. Use your card when you gamble and at any restaurants or shops you go to in that hotel (or any hotel owned by the same company), and after your trip, you may get really good deals only available to members!

2. Who Needs a Huge Breakfast Anyways?-- OK, so I am a huge over-preparer. I make lists of all the stuff I need to bring and usually go a little overboard. This year, I brought two bags full of granola and dried fruit. I also packed other snacks too, all in my checked luggage. It can be incredibly expensive to pay for three meals each day you're on vacation. Instead, eat breakfast in. In Vegas, it saved my boyfriend and I roughly $15 or more per day.

3. Shows, Shows, and More Shows-- Vegas is known for their plethora of shows, but they are expensive! In the past, we have always purchased tickets to the shows we wanted to see months in advance. This ensures you have the ticket, but does nothing good for your wallet. This year we didn't purchase any tickets beforehand, since we knew Vegas has various booths with discounted tickets available. On the first night, Ricky and I came across one right in the entrance of Bill's Gamblin' Hall & Saloon, which is located in the middle of the strip next to the Flamingo on one side and Bally's on the other. We purchased tickets to a musical for $100 per ticket that would have been $150. They advertised other shows as being as much as 50% less than face value. I'm sure other cities like NYC have discounted tickets available as well. Maybe it wouldn't work if the economy was booming and everyone was buying tickets in advance, but for now we'll take it.

4. Search Around For Drinks-- Alcoholic drinks are expensive no matter where you are, but they don't have to be. In Vegas, certain casinos have great deals on alcoholic beverages because they want to draw you in. Maybe the fancier hotels can get people to pay absurd amounts for margaritas and beer, but some of the less extravagant hotels charge way less. Often these places advertise deals outside, so be on the look-out as you walk down the strip!

5. Get the Member Card Discount-- This one relates back to getting hotel deals the next time around once you sign up for the free member card. In addition to great future deals, often gift shops will give you a discount if you have a member card (despite how many points you've racked up for gambling). The Harrah's member card, which includes a handful of hotels along the strip, got me a 10% off at a gift shop at the Flamingo.

112 Degrees & Margaritas

Last week my boyfriend Ricky and I journeyed to the fabulous city of Las Vegas with my parents. It was my third time going there and Ricky's second, but gambling was a first for both of us. A few months ago, my dad came across incredible hotel deals as he was researching on-line. I am a firm believer that one vacation (at least) per year is entirely necessary. Plus, with the cheap prices we could not pass it up.

We stayed at the Paris hotel, which is located in the middle of the strip. Our rooms were beautifully decorated with lots of reds and browns and were elegant yet funky.

We practiced our three-card poker skills at Bally's. (Bally's is a hotel connected to Paris, and they are owned by the same company). The Paris casino is perpetually dark and there is something about the environment that is uninviting. Feng shui is incredibly important when deciding upon which casino to gamble in. Bally's is brighter and doesn't feel as crowded. It's also more laid-back than Paris’s casino.

On the first night, Ricky and I were walking through Paris towards Bally's when Ricky spotted a place to purchase alcoholic drinks in plastic containers shaped like the Eiffel Tower. He decided he wanted to buy one, but as we stood in line I started to worry about the $14.99 price tag. I love searching for bargains and despise paying what I think is too much for something.

"They're kind of expensive, Ricky," I said.

He abruptly began walking away. As I caught up with him, I couldn't help laughing, knowing he was thinking about how much of a pain I am.

"I'm sorry, but that was kind of expensive for a drink," I told him.

"No, it had nothing to do with the price," he said. "I realized I don't want to be walking around holding a massive Eiffel Tower drink."

So we continued our adventure through Bally's and finally stepped outside in the 112 degrees.

"This feels amazing!" I proclaimed as I felt the dry air with my outstretched hands.

"Yeah, it really does," Ricky agreed.

After months (years, even, if I wanted to be dramatic about it) of unpleasant New England weather, 112 sounds completely appealing to me. I'm ready to move to the desert. Still, I'm sure we were both thinking a cool drink would be nice. We crossed the street and walked along the side of a hotel and casino called Bill's Gamblin' Hall & Saloon. Right away I spotted a sign that read: "Lime & Strawberry Margaritas 99 cents."

"Ricky! Look!" I yelled excitedly as soon as I saw the sign.

"Let's go in," he suggested.

We walked through the casino and found the bar. There was loud, live music off to the side, and everyone around us was loud too. It felt very old western; it was the perfect environment to sit at the bar and order a drink or three. Ricky ordered a lime margarita, and I didn't because I wanted to try his first. We then ordered a few more after I taste-tested and realized the deliciousness of the slushy ice, lime flavor, and hint of tequila. I always thought I didn't care for tequila, but I suppose I just don't like overbearing tequila flavor. Also, any alcoholic drink that only costs 99 cents obviously contains alcohol that isn't very strong. It was the perfect refreshment for walking along the strip at 2 AM.

That is something I love about Las Vegas--you can walk around outside with an alcoholic beverage. There is nothing like a slushy margarita or an ice-cold beer when it's 100+ degrees outside.

For the next four days, we spent the days in the pool or lying in the hot sun with lots of sunscreen, and we played three-card poker and walked to Bill's for margaritas by night. On our last night there, Ricky decided to bet about four times more on a single hand than we normally would. He got a straight flush--the best hand you can get. After his big hand, I played a few more hands (since Ricky and I were taking turns gambling so as to delay the loosing of the money). My dad and I were on a losing streak, so we walked over to Bill's. On our way back, we passed a man in a wheelchair for the second time as we walked across the street overpass. He had a hat in his lap for people to put money in and only had one arm and looked to be in rough shape.

My dad stopped just after we passed him. "Hold on," he told us as he pulled his wallet from his pocket. "I gotta give this guy money; he's been sitting here for awhile." He walked over and dropped a twenty in the guy's hat.

"He's probably a Vietnam vet," Ricky said.

"I don't know," my dad said. "All I know is that he could use it."