The people I see running to and from trains in the subway on the way to work are almost always those wearing the kinds of shoes most ill-suited to running. I’m still waiting for a domino-like incident on the escalators.

Still no head-shaving going on due to a pleasant cease-fire not only in summer’s inevitable onslaught but in my cat’s springtime shedding frenzy.

Did you know I had a cat? She can be seen, out of focus, on my sofa in the Next article published a few weeks back. Actually, I think she’s still making up her mind about me. I was going to call her Beggar because she always seems to want something, but Harry told me it was an inauspicious name. (This is the same Harry who has gone through more names than I can remember in his search for an “auspicious name”). I quite like the name Tom Neale chose for one of his cats, “Mrs. Thievery”, but I think “Mrs. Underfoot” might be more suited to this white-furred animal, who seems to have a stomping fetish if her constant darting into my path is anything to go by. In all honesty, though, there’s not much point in naming a cat, as they never come when they’re called. You might as well name a cat “Sound-of-tuna-can-being-opened”.

Saw Kill Bill, vol. II this afternoon with Mindcrime. I didn’t mind this installment as much as the first one, perhaps because this one not only had an ending, but David Carradine as well. It, like the first part, had its moments, but since most people seem fanatical in their admiration/hatred of these flicks I’ll refrain from further comment as it wouldn’t convince anyone of anything.

I was going to say summer is here at last, what with the sweltering heat of the past few days, but today it got cool and rainy again, so I’ll shut up and reschedule my annual Spring Head-shaving Extravaganza.

Went with Dean and his classmates to visit the archeological museum in Bali (the Bali across from Danshui, not the real Bali, aka the island that costs time and money to get to) last weekend. It was fun but a little boring to stick with the group. I’m pretty sure the tour guide needed a medal for his patience in dealing with a bunch of sarcastic foreigners who are just as sarcastic as they were in high school. The museum was nice, though. All it needs (and this goes for every museum, imho) is more Indiana Jones figures standing around.

I also visited a strange temple up in the mountains above Danshui with Harry and some other friends. It was a temple that looked as if it had been designed by Citibank. All the worshipping inside was very organized, with glass and steel alters, and a neat line of fortune tellers with electronic numbers. The insense was colored and expensive, and photography strictly forbidden. The area had the feel of the villain’s lair from a Bond flick, which gave me some ideas. God knows I need some ideas; I haven’t done anything in ages.

Ha! You thought I’d never be blogging again, didn’t ya! You thought I’d gone all mushy and sensitive, hiding all weepy in a cave somewhere. Well, caves are boring (at least without Indiana Jones figures), as are sensitive bloggers, so I thought I’d post a note up here declaring my formal opposition to both, unless I’m paid to do otherwise.