Bodega Cats Are The True New Yorkers.

After 15 years in Manhattan, people often ask me when I knew I was a real New Yorker. The answer is right away, when I realized that I had an instant affinity for bodega cats. I love those little furballs, napping on top of the fruit at the local deli, or standing guard at the door. I even have a Flickr album full of ones I've found along the way.

And so I love it even more when places like WNYC put together videos, like the one below, "Bodega Cats in Their Own Words." It's refreshing to think that I'm not the only one who wants to leave the deli with a sandwich and a tabby.

The cat in this video is orange, which is a bonus.here.

West Village Bodega Cat

West Village Bodega Cat, originally uploaded by La Pauline.

...in all her splendor! I love me some bodega cats.

It's Memorial Day Weekend!

Memorial Day weekend is coming to a close. TR and I spent the weekend in town. I had one open house on Saturday, went on one run and washed every article of clothing in the house. Now it's just me, the Dixieland channel on Pandora and a bottle of white Bordeaux that has to finished before sun down. Life's all about meeting objectives.

Last Tuesday: At the B5 Media party where Erin C. runs the much-esteemed Crushable.com. Best cocktail party I've been to in a while.


It was a very lively crowd.


Sunday in the park with Andre.


Papa bear and his cub.


A mated pair.


Attack of the giant, ginger baby!


Looking wholesome and clean. For once.


Bodega cat sleeping in the middle of the sidewalk. Those cats are hardcore. We could all learn from bodega cats.

OK, so I took today off. No showings, no paperwork no nothing, although I stopped in the office briefly to charge my iPhone after running a few errands.

First, brunch at Jane on Houston Street with a friend from Connecticut. Jane could be the ultimate brunch spot, if only they would offer bottomless cocktails the way Nero's in the Meatpacking district does.

After brunch I headed back to Bethune Street, where the girls and I did laundry. Laundromats in New York City are an interesting breed. Growing up in Norwalk, we went to the laundromat all the time, and it was usually a good hour or so of quiet reading. In New York, it's a fast, noisy place akin to a pizza place during lunch hour. So much for catching up on my reading.

The laundromat on West 12th Street has a bulletin board covered in lost socks, so if you're missing one it might be a good place to look.

While waiting for the dryer, I got the best pedicure ever over on Hudson Street. Sometimes I feel like the nail ladies are laughing at my feet. Am I being paranoid?

Finally, in my never ending fascination with bodgea cats, I found this one in Park Slope last week. She looks almost just like Valentino.

Support The Kitties!

Ready for Their Close Up, originally uploaded by La Pauline.

As many of you know, I adopted Maestro and Mozart from a shelter in Montreal called the Candian Pet Rescue. It's run by one women named Maggie and basically she takes care of all the animals' needs (medical, etc.) until the are adopted.

She has a great adoption rate and really helps these creatures.

That said, she could really use some donations to help defray costs of food and vet visits. You can make a donation through PayPal.

Or drive up and adopt a furball. Believe me, her cats are worth it.

Weekend Cat Pictures and Links

Mozart understands the concept of a weekend. He sleeps most of the day and then loafs around the house as needed.

Thus far the weekend is going well for me. I've done some much needed shopping, will head out for a birthday dinner later on and at some point I would like to hit the beach.

There's a great piece in The New York Times magazine this weekend about Rick Rubin and his new post at Columbia Records. It's long, but a great article.

On a creepier note, I found this multimedia project from the St. Petersburg Times a few days ago about a 1987 murder case that was supposedly closed. Thanks to a recent fingerprint match, it seems that the guy who was locked up for the crime, the victim's husband, may not have donme it all. He has claimed his innocence all along. Check it out.

And since we all love bodega cats, here is my most recent snap of one named Nola, who lives over on Third Avenue.