January 6, 2013

Cat hair in my eye. WOO!

I don’t know if anyone else have cats that seem to ADORE smashing their faces into yours, but I have one and a half. Moosh shows his love through borderline violent face smushing, hence his name, Moosh Moosh (he was Oz when we got him, renamed him Porkchop and again renamed when it became apparent he was indeed a Moosh Moosh). Taco does it when he’s REALLY REALLY craving attention, not just his usual meowing and stepping over to get attention. The face isn’t so much his target, though. Any part will do.

Anyway, I bring this up because I have had a piece of cat hair stuck in my eye ALL DAY. I can feel it with and without my contact in. It’s not super painful, but it’s annoying. I only know it’s a cat hair because I saw it and tried to get it out and it disappeared to wreak havoc on my poor eyeball all freaking day long.

Moosh spreadin’ his shiz.

This is not the first time. I’m always pulling effing cat hairs out of my eyes. I’m lucky that most of my wardrobe is black or I’d be furry all day long, thanks to my laziness regarding lint brushes. If it’s not in my eyeball, it’s right after I’ve applied the stickiest lip gloss ever. Try fixing THAT without getting hairy, sticky lip gloss all over your face.

More fur on my bed.

So can I shave them? I think i could handle the claws but they’re both so jittery (I don’t know why they like us and hate new people so much, WE’RE the ones that torture them) I think I would scar them horribly with a loud razor. At the very least, Taco’s stress levels are of utmost concern, as we currently (get this) have couches FREE OF PEE PADS! CRAY, as the kids say these days. Taco sleeps on the couches a lot lately, which the boyfriend sees as a concern but is exciting to me because the vet said they won’t piss where they rub their face. “Sleep on” is close enough to “rub face on” for me. So exciting.

This is what my life has been reduced to. Complaining about cat hair in my eye and being enthralled about cats not peeing on my couch. And writing a blog about it while my boyfriend watches Shahs of Sunset, which despite my love for horrorshow reality shows, does nothing for me. Oddly, I’m ok with all of this.

Nothing better to do than capture the brotherly love on camera.

January 1, 2013

New year. Woo.

It’s really just another day, right? The cats REALLY did not seem very excited last night when we poured champagne.

So this technically is sparkling wine, because it’s from Spain, but it was cheap. And yes, that’s not a champagne glass, but seriously, who has those?

Not that they got any. In fact, they were asleep.

Oh, really, it’s midnight? Eff off, humans.

Probably the right idea. I’ve always thought starting the new year with a hangover wasn’t really in the spirit of new year’s resolutions. Unless, of course, your resolution is to drink more. Frankly, with the way the world is these days, I wouldn’t blame anyone for doing just that. We stayed in and played 80’s Trivial Pursuit (this part of the evening was a HUGE concession on the boyfriend’s part, and I am very appreciative of his willingness to make me happy).

Taco was kind enough to referee for us.

Neither of us wanted to stay sober enough to drive and there was nothing worth getting a taxi for.

I don’t really make resolutions. My interests are fleeting and cycle too quickly for that. I always try to go to the gym, I already half quit smoking, and I’m vegan. Pretty damn healthy if you ask me.

Besides, I have already resolved to do a bunch of stuff. Like be neater. Neatness is really not a Sarah trait. I try to be. I really do. But I can’t. Even when I do organize things, the “Organizing Sarah” has COMPLETELY different ideas from “Trying To Find Things Sarah.” Wherever I think is a good place to put something when I’m putting it there, I cannot for the life of me figure out where that is when I’m trying to find it. It’s some weird split personality thing. The boyfriend loves neatness, and I drive him crazy. You can imagine how much he loves the cats, because, you know, they don’t deposit hair and cat litter EVERYWHERE.

Basically I have these ongoing resolutions that, when I get a wild hair, get all charged up about making them happen again. The start of 2013 doesn’t make me feel any more resolute than any other day. I think all I really want is what we all want, and that’s to be happier. The older I get, the harder that is. Ignorance is bliss. On the plus side, even though I’m older and wiser, I’m also more forgetful. Maybe it all evens out.

Anyway. Happy new year! If you’re into that sort of thing.

December 30, 2012

Ending my year with a whine.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH.

Today is a sad day. It’s the last day of football season. My fantasy season was over long ago, having had a miserable showing. Technically right now I’m playing for 9th place. Out of 12. Having come in 3rd last year, this is a bit of a downer. Tis life, right?

Except my Buccaneers, my REAL football team, started off with the best of playoff hopes and will finish out the season on a 6-game losing streak because there’s pretty much no way in hell they’re going to beat the Falcons today (I AM, however, wearing my lucky shirt…the lucky part has no real foundation in fact, I just happen to notice that sometimes we win when I wear it. Not scientific at all). I don’t have a “secondary” favorite team, where’s the loyalty in that?

Bucs game. One we lost. But sat in club seats! Fancy.

Bucs or bust. So I’m bustin’. Damn you, Josh Freeman, and all you adderall-taking cornerbacks…I mean, you’re football players. What do you need adderall for? Learning the play books? I doubt your self-diagnosed ADD affects your football-playing abilities. You know better than that. Or maybe you don’t, that’s why you play football. Whatever.

Football players can be real assholes. Yeah, they get paid too much. So do a lot of people, though. Like garbage men. But they probably deserve it more. Then again, getting slammed to the ground by 400-pound men repeatedly doesn’t sound like a blast, either. Maybe they all need some cats.

Moosh Moosh basking.

I bet they would be much better people. Just not Michael Vick. He should be put in the pound himself. I can’t believe that jackass has a dog now. I hope it bites his hand off. No, then they would euthanize the dog. Ok, I hope a random dog bites his hand off and runs off into the sunset.

Yes, I’m rambling. But in addition to my sad football day, it’s also “that time of the month” where perfectly normal women become whiny babies curled up in fetal positions contemplating hysterectomies. So that’s where I’m at. I think it’s time to start drinking.

FOLLOW-UP: The Bucs WON. And they actually looked GOOD. I’m pleased. Not like it got us into the playoffs or anything, but at the very least it gives me hope for next season. Maybe not quite hope, but a less bitter taste in my mouth to take with me into the offseason. Super Bowl XVIII, here we come!

December 29, 2012

Every day is kitty christmas.

The boys didn’t get a ton of presents this year…in fact, they only got 3. Well, 4 if you consider our generous gift to house and feed them for another year. They really never seem to appreciate that one…

Anyway, our very nice and VERY religious next door neighbor left us a note saying something to the effect of WWJD (he would be neighborly, it seems), a bag of chocolates (a lovely gesture, but alas, not vegan – I’ll regift, though…the boyfriend isn’t really a “sweets” person) and a cat toy stocking.

So spoiled.

Despite my atheism, I was able to look past the Jesus part of the note and focus on the intention and found it to be surprisingly heartwarming overall. The kitties loved the toys, although a few of them were the ones that Moosh absolutely LOVES (the ONLY kind of toy that he really likes) but that we cannot keep because Taco eats the sparkles, which in turn makes his poop sparkly AND bloody. I can’t just have normal cats?

The boyfriend bought them two bags of treats. He didn’t wrap them. In fact, he left them on the counter when we went out to a christmas eve party (I remembered this shortly after arriving to said party) and in the biggest christmas miracle EVER, they went untouched.

I bought them a new Neko toy. Moosh doesn’t seem to care for it (shocker!) but Taco goes apeshit for it. The first night we played with it he growled the whole time. Maybe not really a growl, that gutteral “rrrrrrrggg” that they do. The boyfriend, of course, missed this amusement and I have yet to accomplish replicating it. It’s just like when you take your car to the mechanic because it’s making a funny noise and the funny noise totally stops when you get there. Taco still loves it. I actually have to hide it in the pantry because otherwise he will find wherever it is, pull it out and drag it around.

So far, Taco hasn’t figured out how to turn door handles. Yet.

I personally had a good christmas, even though I was very PMSy and cranky on the actual day of. But I did get to spend it with my dad, mom, stepmom and boyfriend. I’ve never been jealous of people with big families. My little one is just fine. And I got stuff I asked for, like expensive anti-aging night moisturizer (I’m turning 31 in 2 months, it’s time to worry about this shit) and a tablet holder that confused my mom when I asked for it because I don’t have a tablet (I switched gyms because LA Fitness took over mine and I hate them, and my new gym’s cardio machines have no magazine holders – so baffling, but I HAVE to read magazines to get through cardio, I don’t like watching TV, and the tablet holder was my brilliant idea to remedy this). I also got kickass stuff from my friends, and in addition to the actual gifts, we we able to over our amazing wrapping talents (we have no shame in patting ourselves on the back and feeling superior to the lesser talented wrappers).

We have such good taste.

And I wish all of you a happy holiday season, whatever you celebrate and whatever you believe. And all of your kitties, too!

December 22, 2012

Cold weather kitty snuggles.

Let me preface this by saying that I despise cold weather. I am NOT built for cold. My Florida native blood is thin and wussy. I’ll sweat my ass off any day of the week over being even mildly chilly. However, because I am on my new “Positive Sarah” kick, I’m going to examine the good things about cold weather, rather than the ones that make me miserable, like goosebumps and the fact that if it drops below 65 degrees farenheit my nose runs like a faucet and turns red and glowy.

One. Cute boots. Although my closet is jam-packed full of sandals and flip flops because honestly, I don’t really like wearing shoes if I don’t have to, I love boots. I’ve loved boots in all sorts of different incarnations, from my younger teenage years wearing Doc Martens and my more favored steel toe Grinders to my newest acquisition, fashion-y, knee-high riding boots. Man, I love them. Almost as much as I love my fake Uggs from Target.

Two. Extra kitty snuggles. You’d think with the fur coats, they’d be pretty well prepared for the weather. The temperature in the house doesn’t really drop a ton, but it’s like they KNOW the outdoors are chilly and they’re into snuggling just because. It’s a lot harder to wake up for your alarm when you have a Taco draped across you purring. So cozy.

Who wants to disturb this?

I know this is blurry, but it’s hard to act like a professional photographer with a kitty scarf.

That’s it. Two good things.

Now, I understand that many of you reading this live in much colder climates. The high here today is 60. I know that’s a drop in the bucket. A few days ago I was wearing shorts and sandals. But this is why I live in Florida. I dare any of you currently scoffing my lack of toleration to spend a few days driving in an un-airconditioned car in the middle of Florida’s August.

December 9, 2012

Who likes christmas shopping? Not me.

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.

December 6, 2012

Cats. Shut up. Please.

So I started this new kick. Being positive. Because I realized that I have become a rather temperamental be-yotch lately. Which I don’t mind so much, but I’m even starting to piss off myself with my grouchiness. Therefore, I’m attempting.

Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone else around me was having bad days and being cranky, which is hard to overcome. And then there’s my stupid wrist, which is more crampy than it was before I went to the doctor and started wearing the damn brace, and then the rest of my arm started hurting too from overcompensating. And thanks doc, I know you said I was cleared to work with a brace, but have you ever tried to grab boxes coming down a moving conveyor belt, jiggle them around under a half-broken scanner and then place them perfectly tetris-style in a plastic igloo without the use of the thumb on your dominant hand? I was hoping my left arm would become magically useful and I would move into ambidextrism, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. It’s either very stubborn or it takes a lot longer than a week to teach one’s moronic digital half to pick up the slack.

Just call me gimp.

This is where I expect my cats to “poor you” me. But no! They still want to be fed. In fact, they seems to want to be fed more than usual. The non-winter Florida winter is making them ravenous. And I refuse to feed them more than they’re suppose to be fed. So guess what happens? MEOWING. SO MUCH MEOWING.

Usually it’s just Taco being a loud a-hole, but now Moosh is getting into the act with his high pitched MEEEEs. I came home from work tonight craving quiet, and Taco meowed for (and I’m NOT exaggerating here) a half an hour straight. At some point he was so worn out from meowing at me he actually stopped following me around and laid down to meow at me. They certainly weren’t starving. There was food in the food island. They know how to get it. Both of them. I guess it’s not as good as when you’re SERVED food.

Taco’s finally shut up, although he has a new, weird obsession with eating my clutch purse. The boyfriend is home and we’re sitting in football-induced silence, and it’s lovely. Yay.

Meowwy christmas!

December 2, 2012

Missing an opposable thumb. Feel like a cat.

I haven’t posted in awhile, one, because I haven’t had much to say. Since I work at Big Brown, my work days are getting a bit longer with all the shipping going on (I HATE peak season). Two, as of Friday, I am wearing a brace on my right hand (and I’m right-handed, so convenient) to disallow use of my thumb. I’m super injury-prone anyway, but I’ve been tearing my my body at Big Brown for almost 13 years now and I ain’t as young as I used to be. Things ache more and don’t heal as fast. I’ve been ignoring a pain in my wrist for a few months now, but it got to the point I finally went to have it checked out. It’s not horrible, but it’s getting worse, and Big Brown take your word for it. It’s a good thing I’m not a doctor, because I thought it was tendonitis in my wrist. Turns out I have a sprained thumb. Apparently if sprains don’t get to heal, they stick around. So typing isn’t fun. And you should see my handwriting.

So now I know how my cats feel. I can’t even put a bra on without a production. I’m supposed to try not to use it at all and then tomorrow I get to go see how well I can hurl around boxes.

Anyway, that’s that. I was nominated for an awesome blog award, and I promise I will get around to appreciating that in here. But for today, I’m going to rest, and let the boyfriend do the heavy lifting while I watch football.

Which one is real?

November 23, 2012

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.

November 22, 2012

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: