Category: #notkitty

Who likes christmas shopping? Not me.

This is how we roll in Florida.

This is how we roll in Florida.

Because I am already an anxious person. I feel this overwhelming pressure to find the perfect gifts for people. I’m not satisfied with tossing out giftcards like halloween candy. Yeah, it’s easy. And I’m not saying I don’t LIKE getting gift cards. I just feel like I cheated if I give one.

But finding the perfect present is incredibly difficult. I’m not even going to get into how hard it is to shop for the boyfriend. He never wants ANYTHING. This is impossible for me to understand, as a person who wants EVERYTHING. To be perfectly honest, I feel like the day I stop wanting things is the day life is no longer worth living. As much as I dream of winning the lotto one day (although one would have to actually PLAY the lotto to win…oops), I think I would be pretty bored and purposefulless if I didn’t have anything to work for. I’m sure that’s why a lot of rich people get so involved in charities, but there are also a lot of bored rich people on reality shows that seem to have nothing to live for except looking younger and subsequently looking like crazy clay-faced people. I think I’m more of a Warren Buffett. You know he still drives the same car he’s been driving since the 80’s? I think. I know a little about a lot, but details tend to fall out. But see, he’s rich as hell and he just keeps working. Money is the byproduct of success. He keeps working to be more and more successful. And he gave his kids trusts and told them “Make this money work, you’re not getting any more from me.” Now that’s the way to do it. I just read (skimmed) an article about his son, who is a farmer of some sort who has some sort of program for farmers to feed the hungry. That’s refreshing.

Back to presents. I always start out with the best intentions, to start shopping in like, July. Yeah. Then all of a sudden it’s Thanksgiving and I’m all “Holy shit, I only have 4 weeks” – and I only have the weekends because my hours at Big Brown get longer and longer as the weeks go on, not that I have time to do a whole lot between jobs anyway.

So then I start surfing the net, frantically trying to find things that match the personalities of the people I’m shopping for. Then I find myself stuff. Then I find stuff I THINK is perfect for certain people, but then I overthink and wonder if this gift is really just something *I* would like, and in my mind I’m making up reasons that this gift is perfect for them. Or I find awesome presents for the pets of the people on my list, but realize that’s not really a present for that person. Then I slam my laptop shut and decide that screw it, gift cards for all. At least until enough time has passed that I feel optimistic about my chances again, then this whole process starts all over.

I would love to make presents for everyone. I did that one year, and it worked great. Except I’ve had this creative block for like, a year. It’s pretty depressing. I mean, I have a CRAFT ROOM. I have so many supplies and nary a spark. I miss my crafting.

So I have one present bought so far, one craft present started (but only started, because it’s going to take some actual muscle and with the gimpy wrist, it’s not going so well. Going to bribe the boyfriend into helping.) and that’s it. And I just got done perusing things online and getting annoying.

If anyone happens to know what any of the people on my list this year REALLY REALLY want, I will give you a hug. Who knows, maybe I have some psychic readers?

PS. The cats’ presents are covered. They’re so easy to buy for.

I doubt cats would approve of Black Friday.

Everyone’s got an opinion on Black Friday. I don’t bother with it. I have to work at my day job, anyway. I think the shopping is kind of ridiculous, I mean, I even have the night off from UPS. I COULD work, but I get paid for being off, and I despise working there (the work itself is fine, it’s just full of a-holes), so I feel my mental health is not worth the double pay.

These boys don’t know how good they have it.

I know I’m probably in a better position than most. I have two jobs when a lot of people don’t even have one (but it’s not like, nepotism, I work hard to ensure my employment status remains solid). Yeah, my cats are expensive lemons, but I realize they’re not nearly as expensive as children. So maybe if I was counting pennies that closely, I would be more apt to wait in line at ungodly hours to get a good deal. I’m not rich. In fact, I’m a shopaholic. I don’t save enough. I like to buy things. I like to buy things way too much. But I also work an awful lot to afford whatever luxuries I enjoy.

But here’s what I think.

I don’t care. I don’t care how good of a deal it is. Just like choosing to not work for double pay, I can’t possibly imagine that there is a deal good enough for me to brave crowds. Crowds of PEOPLE. You know what I really hate? Waiting. I have no patience. I like efficiency. I can be in and out of a grocery store in 15 minutes. I don’t try on things at stores, I only buy things I know will fit or that I know I can alter to fit. And frankly, I’d rather pay the extra money.

This may shock people, but I don’t shop at Wal-mart. Ever. Why? I don’t like their business practices. I don’t like the way they treat employees. I don’t like what they do to small businesses. And honestly, have you SEEN the people that shop there? I feel dirty just walking in one. I don’t need a deal that bad. So yeah, you know, I could probably quit my hated part-time job if I pinched pennies and got the lowest price everywhere. I guess I just take “caveat emptor” a little farther than most. I don’t want the big box stores of the world to be my only option.

To anyone reading this that frequents that store, it’s not my intention to offend. I just hope that you think about who’s getting your money.

Here comes the pitch: shop Small Business Saturday. I challenge you to spend your Saturday shopping ONLY at local businesses. You’ll help your local economy, you’ll help the little guy, and most of all, you might find out that the guy who owns the hole-in-the-wall pet store has some really amazing advice. You might pay a little more. But I’ve found some jewels trying to avoid PetSmart. Nothing against PetSmart employees, but most of them are there for a paycheck. You’d be amazed at what you can find when you check out businesses that are in business solely because they truly care about what they’re shilling. They’re actually knowledgeable about their products. People who do what they love are inspiring…when that rubs off on you, it’s worth whatever you would have saved shopping with the giants. I know I’m old fashioned. Sometimes I want to have kids just to force my old fashionedness on them. Dying breed, we are.

Maybe you wanna hire this guy? You know someone’s passionate about what they do if they go to this much trouble.

I find it slightly ridiculous that “Small Business Saturday” is sponsored by American Express, but you know, it’s a damn good idea. And you don’t have to use your Amex to partake. So don’t.

 

And if you’re feeling really snazzy, make your presents this year. I am. I might even make the cats presents. Maybe I’ll finally get around to making that cat tree.

Catsgiving ranting.

I’m such a crotchety old lady. I think Thanksgiving is kind of a fraud. I mean, we’re essentially celebrating pilgrims taking over the land from the native americans, except for this one day they supposedly got together to eat this big meal and play nice.

 

I’m not buying it.

 

It’s just a transition between halloween and christmas and a way for us to justify eating mass quantities of food.

 

I’m also not into the whole “let’s all give thanks” thing. Why don’t you do that all year? You need a holiday where you gorge yourself to remind you to be thankful of the things in your life? What about the rest of the year?

 

Plus, as a vegan, it’s really quite a painful holiday for me. If I want the thanksgiving dinner experience, I have to make everything myself. From scratch. I always feel like I’m putting everyone out if I’m invited somewhere.

 

Don’t get me wrong. I love green bean casserole and stuffing and mashed potatoes…but they don’t make vegan cream of mushroom soup. So I gotta make that too.

 

Furthermore, there are bittersweet memories attached to thanksgiving for me. 4 years ago, it was the last good day our kitten Jager had before he got really sick. I remember that we thought maybe he was making a comeback, he gobbled up the turkey we gave him and almost seemed OK. As humans, we innately search for connections and want to believe things are connected when they’re really just coincidences, so I don’t believe there was some “thanksgiving magic” that made him vaguely healthy that particular day…but I’ll always remember it. I AM thankful that we had one last really good day with him. But he was just a baby, and I will never forget how much it hurt when he didn’t get better and we had to…you know.

Still miss ya, lil baby!

Now that I’ve done my venting, I’ll take this time to, like everyone else today, tell you what I AM thankful for. But I try to be thankful for these things every day. I don’t always succeed at that, because I am a crotchety old lady, but I remember most of the time. So without further adieu, here are the things I am immensely grateful for, in no particular order:

  • The boyfriend
  • The mom
  • The dad
  • The stepmom
  • Taco
  • Moosh Moosh
  • LOLcats
  • WholeFoods’ vegan cupcakes
  • Chocolate in general
  • My employment, even if it’s at one job I love and one that I hate
  • My brains (I guess my DNA?)
  • My self-esteem
  • My friends
  • Football
  • Beer
  • My success at not smoking on weekdays for over a month
  • And a bunch of other stuff.

 

Happy Catsgiving!

VOTE MEOW! (warning: political post)

I can tell you who to vote for (*cough* not Romney *cough*) but I won’t.

 

Just vote.

 

Just remember that it wasn’t that long ago that women weren’t allowed to vote. And we still haven’t had a female president. If you don’t vote for any other reason, vote for the women who weren’t allowed to 100 years ago (if you’re a man, I guess just vote anyway). Hell, vote for Roseanne Barr if you want. But vote.

What will happen to the bunnies????

I live in a townhouse. Behind my townhouse is a “yard,” then some trees and foliage, and then what USED to be some sort of overgrown field. I’m not sure what was back there, I never ventured that far. I almost did one time when we thought Taco had gotten out (he was inside the couch) but nothing bad really ever seemed to come from back there either so I didn’t really pay it any mind. There are bunnies who come out and eat the grass and amuse the kitties by ignoring them completely. I had imagined they lived in the growth back behind the trees.

But this week, some big machine razed everything back there. I enjoyed the privacy that having NOTHING behind our house afforded, and the quiet. I don’t know what they’re going to do back there. But more importantly, I wonder what will happen to the bunnies?

Sorry for the flash, my phone was being uncooperative.

I love Florida. I was born here. I grew up here. I inherited my mom’s passion for the nature here. So maybe that’s kinda hippie of me. I once watched my normally mild-mannered mother get out of her car and yell at people cutting down mangroves (it’s illegal, they protect against erosion).

So pardon me if I get annoyed every time one more patch of nature goes to shit. Florida isn’t that big, and there’s not that much left that’s not paved over. Even the beaches we’re so envied for, those aren’t real. They truck in the sand. Real Florida beaches are kind of like dirt sand. It’s still nice, it’s just not real. Palm trees are not native here. We have Palmettos (and hence Palmetto bugs, aka roaches, aka Florida’s state bird).

I fall in love with Florida all over again every time I drive over this bridge.

Can’t help taking pics on the bridge.

I get so pissed when there’s a commotion about an alligator venturing into someone’s house. Oh, golly gee, how dare he? Alligators are protected unless they’re “nuisances” and then they have to kill them. How is walking around in your natural habitat a nuisance? He doesn’t understand why the hell someone put a house there.

And the most heartbreaking. The Florida Panthers. They are incredibly beautiful animals. There’s so few of them left. Why? Because they keep trying to cross roads and get hit by cars. Because they keep putting *&$#*(#ing roads everywhere.

I don’t like my generation. I’m terrified of the generation after mine. I think we’re all a bunch of selfish a-holes who are ruining everything. So what if we didn’t make the hole in the Ozone? We know better now. If you’re reading this, I’m probably not talking to you, because it’s people who don’t read that scare me the most.

Aaaaand that’s my rant for the day.

Cold, flu, whatever it is, I hate it.

Since the cats are now fine, apparently it’s my turn to be sick again. Pinkeye wasn’t enough. I woke up this morning with a screaming sore throat. I even went into work until I realized that I felt so horrible all over that I wasn’t going to be even remotely useful. I never take sick days. But I’m glad I came home because this just keeps getting worse. I feel like death.

 

I’m not ACTUALLY dying, but I get extra whiny when I’m sick. There’s not much I can do about it except feel blechy all over. And cough. Cats are hiding. Which is fine, because I’m alternately too hot and too cold so I’m a pretty fidgety sleep companion. I wish I could sleep. I’m so tired. But I feel too icky to sleep.

Taco did venture up to plop down on my hip for a bit. I think he’s under the bed now.

The boyfriend is bringing me typical drugstore remedies when he gets off of work. I took some Olive Leaf extract. That’s supposed to help boost my immune system. Maybe it really works, maybe it doesn’t…at this point I’ll try anything. I surfed Pinterest to find flu remedies but they all require things I would have to go somewhere to purchase, and frankly, getting out of the bed takes about all the effort I have. And while the boyfriend is fine with going to Walgreens or whatever I doubt he’ll want to go rooting through the health food store for random herbs. I do love Pinterest things, though, I now have the most fabulous bathroom cleaner. But the flu remedies look far too complicated.

 

On the plus side, I haven’t smoked all day and I probably won’t. Maybe this would be a good time to quit. Might as well while my defenses are already down.

I don’t suppose I can blame the cats for pinkeye.

Fun with pinkeye

Day 2 of interesting week. Woke up with crusty eye. Made the incredibly smart decision to not put contacts in. My eye didn’t ITCH, though. I vaguely remember having pinkeye when I was younger but I thought I remembered it being horribly itchy. Anyway. My boss requested that I not wait to go to the eye doc in case it was pinkeye, which I honestly did not consider as a more than 30% chance until my eye doc declared that I did, in fact, have pinkeye. I don’t have kids! I’m not around kids! There are no grubby little fingers around me to spread schoolchild germs. But alas, I have contracted it.

 

I thought I had a scratch, and THAT I could blame on the cats, since Moosh sometimes sleeps on my head and I’m constantly pulling pieces of fur out of my eyes.

But I can’t. So now I’m banished home, where I can’t infect my co-workers. I had to disinfect everything for the boyfriend, but he washes his hands every 5 minutes and never touches his eyes anyway. And I’m stuck with whiny Taco, who I think ate the frog (or at least something he wasn’t supposed to) because he had green poop. Green poop that he tracked into the kitchen. Bad enough that I have to disinfect my own filthy germs, I have to take care of Taco’s ill-fated meal.

 

Hopefully the antibiotics start working super fast and I’ll be symptom-free enough to go to work tomorrow. It’s not that I don’t like a day off, but I like it on my terms. Sitting home with the kitties and my new toys is ok, but not as enjoyable with a burning eyeball. Eh.

 

I’m kind of looking forward to see what new, interesting thing happens tomorrow! I hope it’s good.

Another night of shaking my fist at football.

I would post something incredibly and insightful about my kitties tonight…except I’m too busy hating football again. The cats hid in closets and under beds to avoid my wrath today. My fantasy football teams are complete crap. I was a 20-point favorite in one. Julio Jones, you kill me. I’m now 0-4 in my other league, and I have the most points scored against me, even though my own points would put me in 2nd if fantasy football went that way. But it doesn’t, so what that means is the person I play each week has an outstanding week, and despite the fact that my team is consistently good, it’s not enough THAT WEEK.

 

On the plus side, I did get a laptop, so I can watch my fantasy football demise from anywhere! Well, I could do that with my phone, too. I did get the iPhone5. It’s so much faster. I like. The best part is that the camera takes much less time to load, giving me a better chance of getting a good kitty pic while something is happening.

I also had to watch the Bucs game on my laptop because the game was blacked out locally. It looked pretty full to me, but what do I know? Thank goodness for the internet and streaming. Unfortunately, I had to watch them LOSE. So close, yet so far. Last minute heartbreak.

I’m also having way too much fun with Photo Booth. Taco not so much.

The Sunday night game, which I am currently watching (while writing this! I love having a laptop. Amazing.) features a team with a quarterback that I would not mind seeing crippled. I’m not saying that because it would benefit my fantasy football team, it’s because it’s Michael Vick. I don’t think people who kill dogs in cold blood ever really “change.” I don’t care how good he is, I’ll never put him on my fantasy team. I cheer for the defense of whoever he’s playing.

 

This is a very all-over-the-place post. Sunday venting. So cathartic.

At least I have my iToys!

Why do you hate me, football?

I love football. I love football season. I remain dedicated to my Bucs even when they have years like last year, and I even watch them online when the game is blacked out because everyone else jumped off the bandwagon and won’t go to games. I love going to games, but it’s an expensive day. Beer is EIGHT DOLLARS! 3 hours of $8 beers gets expensive, and on top of that they cut the beer off for the 4th quarter, which is just about the time everyone has drunk enough that they want to continue drinking heavily. But despite this, and despite the fact that I hate people, particularly loud sweaty people in crowds, I still love going to games. I just can’t do it 8 games a season. My couch is so comfortable. Beer is so cheap here. I can annoy the cats while I watch football, although they’re usually passed out asleep somewhere on Sundays, so asleep that they don’t even bat an eye when the boyfriend or I yells obscenities at the TV.

 

Which brings me to the issue at hand. There’s a lot of yelling in my house these days. You see, I play fantasy football. And my teams are taking a giant Taco-sized poop. I seem to be bad luck for running backs, I have two injured ones right now, and I have the backup for one of those injured ones in my other league, and he just got hurt today too.

Moosh doesn’t care.

So I’m sitting here watching the Sunday night game hoping Tom Brady’s arm magically falls off, because that’s pretty much the only way I’m going to win. Oh, and in addition to that, it would help if they decided that since Brady’s arm fell off, they should just kick field goals for the rest of the game. I have the New England kicker. That would be nice.

 

I’m not even going to mention the Bucs’ performance today, because it seems to me that they didn’t actually PLAY in the game, they just went to hang out with the Cowboys.

Hurricane a comin’ – batten down the kitties.

As a lifelong Florida resident, I’m fairly used to hurricanes. I personally have only been in one, and technically it didn’t come on shore, just squeezed by really close. That was 1985, and I was 3. It’s actually the earliest memory I have. Evacuating to what would one day be my high school.

The number of POTENTIAL hurricanes I’ve been through, that’s a different story. Weatherpeople positively salivate over the slightest inkling of a storm brewing. You can see the excitement in their eyes. Personally, I find them fascinating. I always wanted to be a hurricane hunter, which would conveniently combine my love of hurricanes and my love of flying, but unfortunately it also involves something I would dislike, which is joining the Navy. I think it’s the navy. Either way, my aversion to authority makes that a not-so-awesome option.

This is Tommy, my dad’s old plane. The urge to pilot is genetic. Do not attempt to hurricane hunt in this.

Fortunately, it looks like Isaac is moving away from my little peninsula-on-a-peninsula. Which means I’ll have to work tomorrow, but it also means I don’t have to sandbag my sliding glass doors. Or put up shutters, or worry about roofs flying off. Thanks to the kitties drinking only distilled water, I am able to justify my large bottled water purchase, and it will not go to waste, like the last time I bought a bunch of water for an almost-hurricane, and let it sit in the linen closet for years (I don’t know why I stored them there, I suppose it must have seemed like a good place at the time) before realizing they’d expired. Did you know water has an expiration date? I don’t know why, maybe it’s the plastic leaching into the water or something. Either way, I’m an avid follower of the expiration dates (except with peanut butter, I’m reasonably sure that never goes bad) so I poured out the water and dutifully recycled the bottles.

I’m slightly annoyed that I didn’t buy more food for the week, as I didn’t want things to go to waste if the power went out. And I completely forgot to buy more Rescue Remedy (a natural de-stresser) for Taco. Hurricanes pose more of a threat to Taco than just blowing over his home. The Feline Idiopathic Cystitis, my vet says, seems to flare up in cats when there are hurricanes around. Sensitive little things they are. And he doesn’t even have to worry about boarding up windows!

I’m not sure why Taco looks terrified here.

It’s also good that we don’t have to evacuate, because I only have one cat carrier…I keep meaning to buy another one but the prices are outrageous for what is essentially a glorified gym bag.

40 bucks for this thing, and it’s a piece of crap.

Now I’m off to go do laundry until it’s time to pick up the boyfriend from his 2nd fantasy football draft. Draft #2 for me is online, so at least I don’t have to drive anywhere else in the crappy weather that the outer bands of Isaac are supposed to bring. Traditionally, a hurricane party could still commence (as long as you did some sort of preparation because the chance of getting hit was there, that’s the only prerequisite), but that would make for an even worse Monday.