Tag Archives: cat

Have Job, Will Grumble

Waking up for work in the morning is never an easy thing to do. I think it must be at least 11 times harder when you haven’t done it in 11 months.

After starting a new job earlier this week, I was reminded of that unwelcome gut punched feeling first thing in the morning when you realize you really, REALLY can’t go back to sleep this time. No matter how (very) tired you may still be. No matter how much (5 hours) more you could sleep if given the chance. No matter how much you can think of nothing but doing this:

for the rest of your life. You simply cannot. You must awaken and you MUST get this party started.

The first thought that enters my brain each morning that I wake up at 7:00 am is “Ugh. Seriously?” followed by: “Urrrrgh… this is fucking brutal.” then: “I can’t do this somebody please kill me kill me now.”

What makes it all the worse is the fact that it’s September (BLARF!) and this brings back all sorts of crippling memories from the ghost of 1st week back to school past…

***

It’s the RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RI_[lazy two finger click] of 5:45 am, followed by the RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*RIE*R_[irritated palm slap] of 5:54.

It’s the staring at the ceiling in utter frustration and anger from 5:54 and 6 seconds – 5:57 while slowly facing the reality of the responsibility that awaits you; brushing teeth, getting dressed, walking around places and making sounds come out of your mouth all the while trying to look cool and seem normal enough not to become a social pariah at least for one more day. Truly horrific shit…

***

Finally managing to pull myself off of the mattress is at once one of the simplest and most difficult tasks I will encounter all day. Get past the point of actually laying down and you’re golden. Unfortunately, it’s usually not until around noon before I actually start to feel good about the decision I made this morning. The time leading up to that is pure and total hell full of doubt and remorse and daydreams about sleeping while simultaneously eating, watching television and reading internet gossip. Of course, by 2:00 I can’t help but feel irritated that it’s NOT 5:00 yet so it’s really just a ceaseless nightmare.

At least it is for me. For others, waking up is the least of their problems.

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Wii Crazy

In an effort to not be such a flaccid, slovenly ball of flab for the rest of my existence I decided that now was as good a time as any to start working out regularly.

It has not been easy.

I used to enjoy taking hour-long walks through my neighborhood where I probably only burned about a Twizzler’s worth of calories but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Plus, I regard it as a considerable feat when I manage to leave the house at all. Ever.

Baby steps, friends. Baby steps…

Since the New Jersey landscape has been little more than a wasteland of snow and ice for the better part of a month and a half, taking leisurely and physically unproductive walks has been out of the question.

Instead, I decided to dust off the ol’ Wii Fit that had been lying quietly dormant since well before we moved into our house in December ’09. Stepping on that bad boy after all that time was humbling. To say the least…

In an effort to shed the extraneous 10 pounds that I have been nurturing and oh so sweetly laying to rest at night with each bowl of ice cream and fistful of peanut butter pretzel bites devoured I realized I needed to do something. Like, NOW.

The Wii Fit can be fun, which is probably why I’ve stuck with it for the past few weeks. It can also be incredibly frustrating and shaming. Still, I suppose I prefer being laughed at by a computer than by actual people after they’ve seen my superfluous muffin top spilling out of my stretched thin spandex leggings at a public gym.

What I find to be especially cool about the system is it allows you to log any additional activities you may partake in to gain fitness credits for the day.

Since I can really only do about an hour on the Wii Fit daily without wanting to punch the tiny ponytail off my “trainer” I usually supplement my regime with some ball-busting aerobics which really amps up my activity log.

That being said, I was pretty surprised at what Nintendo classifies as credit-able activities, especially under their examples of “Light Activity”:

I figure if “Laundry” counts as legitimate physical activity then I could come up with a few of my own and give myself points for each of those I manage to accomplish:

I suppose I’ve spent enough time on my butt writing this so I’m outta here so I can go full-throttle on that last one…

*****

BONUS MATERIALS:

It is quite possible I have a seriously perverse cat. I might expect a dog to eat the crotch out of a pair of leggings but a cat? Seriously? GAH.

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I’m *back*?

The only thing I’ve been able to write in the last month and a half seems to be in the form of lists. Grocery lists, holiday shopping lists, lists for thank-you cards that needed to be sent out a month ago. Those sort of lists. I also wrote this list so that’s something too.

I guess.

Then I started to think that was a part of my problem. I was using list-making as a crutch and couldn’t get creative unless I just stopped making them. So THEN I think to myself: “What is the OPPOSITE of making lists? I KNOW! A photo montage of my cat depicting the events that have unfolded since I last wrote here!”

And here it is:

Things were blurry at first…

Actually it was like that for a WHILE

So I thought I should look for guidance from the great wise window…

But I didn’t really like what it had to say so I got outta there…

And decided maybe it was best if I just sat back and relaxed for a bit instead…

Even still, It was undeniable that I was a bit blue…

So I looked toward the fire for comfort…

But I soon tired of that, so I took a nap…

After so much sleeping, I had become paranoid so I thought it best to hide…

But then I felt guilty so I chose to ease my mind by getting some work done…

Until THEY showed up…

Which only served to make me MORE paranoid. So it was back into the box for me…

And then, before I knew it… It was CHRISTMAS! I love Christmas. Very tasty…

All was well until I realized that Christmas isn’t all about joy and the deliciousness of tiny fake trees. Sometimes it’s just humiliating…

I guess it’s true what they say about nothing being easy…

and I’ve still got a helluva long way to go.

HAPPY CAT-YEAR ERREYBODY!

See you soon?

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A Day in the Life

When I decided to leave my job I figured it would give me an overwhelming amount of free time to write and take pictures and just be generally creative. I thought at this point I would have created so much amazlingness that I would need to tell myself to slow the hell down and just relax already. Instead I find myself unable to wake before 10 and then frantically running around all day in the hopes that I can get something worthwhile accomplished. Most days lots gets done, just nothing worth mentioning.

Or IS it?

Since I’m unable to come up with anything original, I’ll just give you a basic rundown of a day in the life:

12:37 AM – Wake up on the couch with intense neck pain after dozing off while watching something uninteresting on the TiVO (probably Chuck since I don’t find any humor on that show save for Morgan but the bee begs to differ because he just loves it. choose your battles wisely, people.)

12:38-12:41 AM – Attempt to rouse a sleeping bee from the sofa, at first with sweetness and love, whispering things like “Hey, sleepy. It’s late, let’s go to bed, OK?”. When that inevitably doesn’t work and I’ve paced the room for the next few minutes after multiple futile attempts to wake his comatose ass it becomes “FINE! I’m going to bed, with or without you. You can sleep out here, ALONE, where it’s scary and there’s no one to protect you. Good luck.” Within moments a groggy bee will rise as late-night threats of impending fear and abandonment will almost always work in your favor.

4:23 AM – Wake to the sounds of “A-BANG-A-BANG-A-BANG” coming from the weird, dwarf-sized, pseudo-closet underneath our bed where the cat has decided for the umpteenth time to try to see if he can exit through a set of unnecessary double doors that lead only to a wall. Directly under our heads. Where we sleep at night.

This is then followed by the “SCRITCH-A-SCRITCH-A-SCRITCH” when the stinker realizes that his first tactic wasn’t completely fortuitous so he’s moved to the set of drawers built into our weird elevated bunk bed in the hopes that THIS will wake us up so we can git on down thar and play with his fuzzy little monkey butt.

4:24-5:05 AM – Unsuccessfully bargain with a cat, pleading for a decent nights sleep and some peace and quiet if he would only just let us have it: “Just two more hours, buddy. Then we play with flying string-feather alllllll day, OK?” which quickly turns into “WOULD YOU SHUT UP YOU HELL SPAWN JUST BE QUIET GODDAMN IT I’M LOSING MY MIND YOU JERK I SWEAR TO GOD I’M GONNA KIL…” until, finally, the cat gets bored with this charade and resumes sleeping peacefully wherever it is he wants to sleep and we are forced to separate (as it seems to be the ONLY way he’ll ever give us peace), one of us staying in the bed while the other mans the pull-out in the living room where we both end up passing out miserable and overflowing with rage.

Let me just say: It’s awesome.

VS.

note the slight shift in location and the subtle difference in eyelid presentation in both photos. i mention this because these things matter little. in either instance he is ready to take your sleep schedule and make it his bitch.

7:35-8:05 AM – I half-wake to the sounds of the bee getting ready for his day at the office. I remain barely fazed by his knocking about the house  and only regain consciousness again briefly as he stops to give me a kiss goodbye before he leaves the house.

I’m not gonna lie. I’m a huge fan of that part.

9:56 AM – I awake to the sound of “Meeeeeeer, meeeeer” and a little orange face staring up at me from the floor telling me to get the hell up already because he’s hungry, so let’s get this party started. This is closely followed by the “Bzzzzzzp, bzzzzzzp” of my phone which is the bee texting me to get the hell up already because he’s bored, so let’s get this party started.

10:02 – approx 1:30 PM – I begin frantically running about the house in attempt to get things done. I start by putting the kettle on for tea and feeding the cat while I work on straightening up the house because, for whatever reason, collectively we manage to make a mess of things on a daily basis so much so that each morning I have to turn the bed back into a couch or rearrange furniture that was moved to provide sufficient space for the flying string-feather obstacle course or, you know, because I am highly OCD and I just have to. During this time I will also drink my tea, eat my breakfast and manage to make myself feel sub par for not having accomplished more in the way of actual “work” all while sitting in the same dirty pajamas that I’ve worn all week. (that last part is more statement of fact than complaint because I LOVES me the time in my dirty ‘jams)

1:31-4:12 PM – Commence freaking out because it’s almost 2:00 and that’s when the bee goes on lunch which means he’s gonna call me and ask what I’m doing. Also, because technically I think I’m supposed to eat again but that’s so much work and I really don’t have the motivation but I better do it anyway because otherwise I’ll get yelled at (see: the bee). It’s around this time that I realize that I still haven’t managed to do the dishes from the night before and it never ceases to amaze me that no matter what the meal and regardless that it’s just the two of us we still have a towering mound of crap in the sink on a daily basis to deal with.

Also? I should probably shower. It’s been a while. Oh yeah, and the teeth. Still haven’t brushed the teeth.

4:15 PM – Decide that just brushing the teeth and putting on real clothes should be good enough in the way of grooming for the day. Attempt to go online and read-up on blogs and maybe get some writing done. This never happens. Instead I find that Don’t Tell Mom The Babysitter’s Dead is on Cinemax for the 11th time this week so I should probably watch it again because I’M RIGHT ON TOP OF THAT ROSE.

5:30 PM – The bee arrives home and any prospect of writing goes out the window. I’m totally fine with this. At least I will be until tomorrow morning (see: 1:35-4:12 PM) when I’ll just make myself feel guilty for being unproductive again. We catch up on the day’s happenings and the bee complains about some shitty thing that happened at his shitty job and I nod and roll my eyes because I totally get it and then I tell him about how fucking crazy MY new boss is. And he’ll do the same because he knows the deal with that too.

6:45 PM – We decide that we should probably start to think about what it is we might want to eat for dinner. Considering the time we look in the fridge to realize we only have 2 week old baked beans and some white-slime coated hot dogs and since it’s too late to defrost anything “real” in the freezer we realize we need to choose from the only two options left: Wendy’s or McDonald’s. Lately Wendy’s wins out since they have those new salads. You know the one’s with the nuts and cheese and berries? Yep, tooooootally love those. Have I mentioned I should be in sales?

7:55 – 10:15 PM – Return from Wendy’s and begin scarfing down dinner while watching hours of mind-numbing television programming. Remember all the things I had wanted to do during the day but didn’t and then realize that I’m just going to have to do all those things TOMORROW and I begin to panic. I don’t handle stress well. At all. So instead of beginning to relax and enjoy my time with my husband in a low-key laid-back scenario I start to obsess and voice my worry about all my shortcomings and past failures as a human. This makes for really shitty T.V. viewing. Thank god for TiVo. Again: sales?

10:30-ish – Regardless of what is happening, I begin to lose my ability to maintain consciousness. We could be in the middle of playing Dance Dance Revolution and the indefatigable need to just “go lay down for a minute” would sweep over me and that, my friends, is usually where I completely check-out. Sometimes I can pretend like I’m still with it enough to carry on a conversation or, at the very least, add commentary to something seen on T.V. but the truth is, anything after 10:45 for me is 100% auto-pilot which brings us right back to where we started.

Basically I’m just a manic-depressive, obsessive-compulsive, slightly neurotic, unemployed, over-sleeper with less than stellar hygiene, who loves her freak-show of a cat even though he’s *this close* to getting thrown out a window if he wakes her up again with his one-man-band percussive late-night music hour, with a very unhealthy relationship with fast food who really needs to get dressed and put on some make-up. Like now. It’s either that or cover up this pimple with my finger forever.

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Last Minute Halloween Costume Ideas for the Recently Unemployed and Habitually Underpaid

Halloween is right around the corner, kitty cats and if you’re anything like me you wait until the absoLUTE last-minute to decide what the hell you’re wearing for the big day. That is why I have constructed this brief, yet immeasurably helpful, guide to turning something everyday into something uniquely Halloween-y.

Be a hipster zombie!

First off, this works incredibly well if you already happen to BE a hipster. For one you can just say you’re going as a zombie and, for two, you already have enough v-neck t-shirts and skinny jeans to start your own sizeable army of ennui, so clothing yourself shouldn’t be a problem. If you happen to be the antithesis a hipster, fret not. Get thee to a thrift store, post-haste!

If thrift stores are out of your budgetary range for this season’s scare-fest think familial! Do you have grandpa? Grandpa’s have an EXCELLENT assortment of ironic hipster garb so if you’ve got one, watch him CLOSELY. Hipsters are lurking everywhere just waiting for the moment to strike and steal that oversized cable-knit sweater with the mothball smell that won’t come out.

Now for the zombie part. Get some red lipstick and dark eyeshadow and apply liberally to your face parts. Go for gaping head wounds and festering sores, blood dripping from the mouth and eyes will really set you apart from the other store-bought zombies. If you ARE a hipster, obtaining said face-paint should be rather easy since most hipsters live within yelling distance of their mommies anyway. If not? Real blood and bruises work just as well too.

Be a human lint-brush!

If you have a cat, like I do, then you know that cats shed copious amounts of hair. Usually on places like your clothes or bath towels so that when you go to dry yourself off after a nice hot shower you find yourself coated in a fine layer of sweet kitty cat fluff and dander. Since it is a well-known fact that cats enjoy sitting on a freshly dried set of clean clothes, first wash your clothes (choose dark colors if your cat is light-colored and vice versa if your cat is dark) dry them in the highest heat, set down on the couch, chair, bed or table of choice and let the magic begin!

Before you know it, Mr. (or Ms.) kitty cat will be snuggling and leaving their fur mark all over your freshly laundered! Once the hair transferral process is complete, commence wearing said outfit and off you go! You have become the human equivalent of a walking-talking lint-brush. Other party-goers won’t know what hit them! Unless they’re allergic to cats. Then your presence will basically be like a sucker punch to their sinuses.

Be a pile of leaves!

Where I live, the ground is currently covered with fallen leaves that will eventually just get collected into large trash bags or burned in autumn bonfires. I say: Why waste all that potential costume fodder by handing it over to the garbage gods?! It’s time to put to use all the crafting options around us.

Since dead leaves are like nature’s velcro, this is probably the easiest cheap Halloween costume to construct. Step 1: Put on some clothes. Step 2: Go outside and roll around in the leaves. The leaves will adhere to your clothes and hair with ease. It’s like the two of you were MEANT to be together this way. Once an adequate amount of rotten foliage is stuck to your person you are ready to go!

Now, for those of you who live in slightly more temperate climates during the colder months and don’t have fallen leaves readily accessible to your person, I suggest you then go jump in a lake. Or the ocean because you probably still can since it’s like 85 degrees wherever you are.

Assholes.

**********************************************

In other news:

A photo of mine was recently featured over at Indie Ink for their Autumn Writing/Photo Contest and I’m super proud and flattered to be included so make sure  you hit them up and check out all the awesome submissions!

Also…

A TRUE ghost story of mine has been published over at Midwestern Mama Holly’s blog. The past week on her site has featured real-life stories of the strange and paranormal from some of her readers and they be FREAKY. So, go forth! and be prepared to be scared!

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Look What *I* Found! Friday: Yeah, you just TRY to get stuff done (i DARE you) Edition

If you’ve read this blog before it should come as no surprise that I love my cat. It actually borders on obsession. Ok, let’s get real here, it IS obsession. He’s really awesome though, so I have a hard time seeing how this is my fault. He’s adorable and affectionate and, for whatever reason, likes to be wherever I am at. all. times. however inconvenient or inappropriate that place might be*. 

*yes, i’m talking about the bathroom and no, just because i let him in there while i’m showering or toilet… ing, doesn’t mean that i’m in a losing battle for the upper hand in this relationship while simultaneously cultivating a mini fur-monster who knows that if he mews and *scritch*scritch*scritches* at the door relentlessly i’ll let him in there because SOMEBODY has to look out for our home furnishings and i’m starting to not like where this is going so let’s just move on shall we… 

SHALL we? 

When I work from home it is unavoidable that at one point or another “the stinky one” decides that the place he needs to be at that very moment is on my lap or, even better, on the desk: lower half splayed across the mousepad while he claws and chews on the power cord or with legs strategically placed on my keyboard so that I accidentally send out interoffice announcements that read like: 

Hello All, 

I will be taking lunch from 1-eeeeeerrrrtttttttt78uuuiiiiiiooooooooooppppppppppp’ 

So I wasn’t too surprised when I found that monkey falling asleep in this position today: 

It’s really hard to be annoyed with him however TOTALLY ANNOYING it may be to shift his fuzzy little body around my work station so that I can actually get some, like, work done once in a while. 

Sheesh! 

sorry bout dat! dis iz bedur spot? affink dis werk owt gudz cuz nao ai can rilly keep mah EYE on yew...

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Look What *I* Found! Friday: I Spy (and/or one of these things is not like the other for pretty obvious reasons) Edition

I’ve been running around like a  maniac all day trying to pack-up for our mini-trip to a cabin in the woods with some friends for the long Labor Day weekend all while juggling my normal Friday work from home schedule.

Needless to say, I’ve been a bit… harried. More so than usual. 

When I’m home I usually have a little shadow following me everywhere I go. A furry orange little me-eee-eeep-ing shadow. That being said, I must have tired even him out with my back and forth back and forth dance because after a while with no sign of the lil’ stinker I went into the bathroom to find this: 

He was only mildly fazed by my presence: 

oh. it's YOU...

May you and yours (and all the world’s sink-loving cats) have a safe and happy Labor Day!!!

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Pegs ‘R’ Us!

As you may already know, the bee and I are getting married in October. I have been full-on freaking out over most everything since both the ceremony and the family party/reception are on separate dates (yes, it’s like we’re doing DOUBLE the work) and both are almost 100% DIY but we’ve been trying to keep things level and sane by making the process as fun as possible. One of the BIGGEST elements of fun for us was getting ourselves PEG-I-FIED by Suzy at Naked Peggies

I was so totally impressed by the final product. I’m pretty sure she made us even cuter as wooden peg dolls then we ever could be in real life. Well, at least in my case… 

We first heard about Naked Peggies through Sending Postcards when they had their own peggies made in celebration of their nuptials

The peggies themselves can even be used as wedding cake or cupcake toppers

We decided to let ours live it up on our mantle where we intend to add peggies to the collection as our family grows. 

not a mouth, but a soul patch and a mole. respectively... (in case you just thought we have very specific and permanent dirt on our faces. because we dont. anymore.)

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Stinky’s mama needs your help!!!

this is Christine...

She is my Stinky‘s cat-mama and she desperately needs a home!

Are you or someone you know in the market for adopting a cat? She came from an abusive home originally and is a little shy at first but once she gets to know you she will warm up to fill your heart with explosive joy and shooting pangs of happiness! those are good things, people…

Seriously, even if you can’t, please pass on this link to anyone who you may know in the Central New Jersey area who might be willing to take in a sweet natured and loving kitty cat!

I would snatch her up in a heartbeat but it was hard enough convincing the bee to allow me to have ONE cat and I’m not looking to push my luck anymore than I already have.

If you or someone you know might be interested in adopting Christine, please contact Jaime Kirzner-Roberts @ 609.356.9328 or email jaime@princeton.edu.

THANK YOU!!!

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Presenting… Shitty Kitty!!!

As you are, no doubt, familiar with Turd Bird and Turdle, you may have already figured that Shitty Kitty is a distant cousin to both. Although they can trace their lineage back to the same piece of… erm… remnant, they can hardly stand to be in the same room with each other.

For obvious reasons.

ShitKit (as she is often called) takes great pride in her looks and refuses to eshew the cleaning rituals of her species despite the particularly repulsive nature of the task.

A word to the wise:

It may be all too common for a cat to regurgitate when something peculiar enters their highly sensitive digestive systems, how-ever… since “we are what we eat”, and Shitty Kitty is no exception to that rule…

I think you know where I’m going with this…

Just know that isn’t your run-of-the-mill hairball.

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