Tagged: crazy cat lady

Day 3 of Interesting Week. Ignored.

So here it is, day 3 of my interesting week, and nothing even remotely interesting has happened.

Taco supervising as I work from home. He should be fired.

Of course, that’s probably because I’m quarantined to the house to avoid infecting my co-workers and other outside life with my germy eyeball, but that’s another story. SOMETHING could have happened. I was on a roll there.

 

Instead, I have been ignored all day, abandoned by my furry flock. Rejoice, kitties, Mommy is here ALL DAY! So where’s Moosh Moosh? Under the bed. Where he’s been all day. Taco? He’s been intermittently annoying, mostly sleeping but occasionally getting up to meow fiercely for a few minutes at me and then retiring back to slumber. Not man nor beast wants to be around me today.

No help at all.

I did, actually, infect the boyfriend, it would seem, despite my efforts to the contrary. I washed sheets, disinfected surfaces and made pointed efforts to not touch my eye, at least not without a thorough handwashing afterwards.

 

I did google to see if I could give it to the kitties after a friend jokingly suggested that I’d never get rid of it if I passed it on to them. Didn’t really get a solid answer, so I’m not going to worry about it. They’ll be fine. I think.

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.

Sorry Officer, it’s the cat’s fault.

Let me just start out by saying Mondays are a bitch. It’s always harder to wake up on a Monday because you always ruin your sleep schedule over the weekend even if you swear ahead of time that you’re not going to. So like every other Monday morning, I hit snooze until I absolutely HAD to get up. Just enough time to brush teeth, throw clothes on, feed cats, leave. Only this morning, once I got to the “feeding cat” part, I noticed there was no Taco. Mr. “HEYHEYHEYLOOKITME” always underfoot. This is unheard of. I mean, he’s spent ALL NIGHT without food! He’s usually my alarm clock. So, instead of sticking with my really tight time schedule, I went hunting for him. I even woke up the boyfriend (sorry honey) who didn’t have to be at work until 9. Looked in all the closets and hiding spaces. He finally emerged from INSIDE THE COUCH after some vigorous treat shaking. I knew he hadn’t gotten out, but for him to miss feeding, I have images of him sick somewhere and hiding. No. He was in the damn couch. IN IT.

Such an angel…NOT

Some may call my driving style aggressive, I like to call it defensive and speedy. I don’t SPEED-speed, but I hate driving so I want to get it over with as quickly as possible. This means I don’t want to be stuck behind some douche doing 35 in a 45. Which is where I found myself this morning, already running late because Taco was in the effing couch. So I tailgated a little, had an opening to get over, and I did. Annnnddddd that’s when I got pulled over.

 

Unmarked sheriff, yay. And he yelled at me. Like, YELLED. I didn’t even need to make myself cry, because it happened naturally. And he barked questions like “Do you even have insurance” and “Are you driving on a suspended license” (apparently my driving is bad enough that my license should be suspended? Come on. I drive a Volvo. I at least give the appearance of being responsible) — and this was all why I was frantically trying to find my registration in the mess of doom that is my glove box.

 

Then he surprised me by coming back and asking me to give him a good reason he shouldn’t give me a ticket for (I’m paraphrasing here) being the worst driver and human being in the world (I’m not sure what he said exactly, but his tone left that impression) and I stammered out something about being late because my cat was missing and it freaked me out and ended with “It’s Monday.” Either he’s a softy for kitties or he understands the painfulness of Mondays, because he was much nicer as he told me he was just giving me a warning and I should get to work safely and to drive better. I’m glad I didn’t point out that driving 10 miles under the speed limit is equally unsafe. Or tell him that my focus sucked because I was wearing my glasses instead of contacts which really messes up my peripheral vision.

 

That’s when I decided that I was going to appreciate my day from then on because it could only go up from there, and you know what? That worked. I had (so far) a very uneventful and productive Monday. So thanks, sir, although you made me feel like crap, you ultimately made my day better. And I should probably remember not to drive like SO much of an asshole. People still shouldn’t be driving 35 in a 45. Don’t you have somewhere to be?

This is what I do during red lights. I’m hilarious.

The boyfriend texted me later to tell me that he discovered that it was a frog that was under the couch. It’s still somewhere in here because when he went to go get it, it jumped back under. So yeah. Not only is Taco perfectly fine, he wasn’t even hiding. He was just going after live food rather than his normal morning boring food.

Never a dull moment!

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!

YOUR LOSS, ANIMAL PLANET

Surprisingly, I received a response from the My Cat From Hell people, asking where I was located. In case you missed the post about how I answered their casting call, you can see that here. I was overly hopeful because in the past, they only asked for people living in the LA are, which, if you’re familiar with geography, is rather far from Florida, although not in the grand scheme of things. Hawaii is much farther. I am incredibly grateful that I was able to vacation there a few years ago but they really need to do something about the long plane ride. Frankly, I’m amazed that no one has come up with a less deadly version of the Concorde yet. How were they more technologically advanced in the EIGHTIES??? So back to the point, that they didn’t have a requirement, and the fact that they answered me back in what seemed to NOT be a form email got my hopes up that my cat pee couch dilemma was interesting enough for them to consider our little family of furballs.

Until I got the email that said “Thanks, but you’re too far.” (That’s not a direct quote, I paraphrased.) Oh well. I think Florida is a perfect place for Jackson to come. We have many unique kitty challenges, like not having real dirt, just a dirt-like sand that is the favorite of fleas, as well as not having a winter that gets cold enough to kill off the fleas, and even if you have indoor-only cats (which of course I do, because in addition to sociopaths and vehicles, we have alligators and supposedly coyotes but I’ve never seen one of those) fleas will come in unbeknownst to you clinging to your socks like a hobo on a train. They’re a bitch to get rid of. How come dogs don’t seem to have as much of a problem? They go out every time nature calls. And they ROLL AROUND in the dirt that the fleas love so much. Cat fur better? Everything cat is better. I could do without the fleas, though.

But alas, the boyfriend and I are just going to have to bite the bullet and do something about the couch and the figuring out of how to ensure that Taco never uses it as a litter box again. For now, though, I’m going to continue to procrastinate. Would have been so much easier to have someone to fix the problem for us. For a smart girl, I’m awfully lazy.

Giving back without burning out.

I’m pretty logical about everything, even being illogical. There’s an explanation for everything, even if it’s not scientifically measurable yet. But I still cling to my belief in karma. I don’t necessarily think that bad things happen to bad people all the time, but I think that bad people do bad things because they’re not right in the head, and are probably unhappy, or too stupid to realize they’re unhappy. I think not being able to enjoy the good things in life is karma in itself.

Taco reflecting on life.

I don’t consider myself a “lucky” person because there IS no luck, there are only seemingly random happenings that are taken as “good luck” or “bad luck” depending on the person’s viewpoint. An unhappy, negative person will see the bad in the things rather than the good, and vice versa. It’s kind of like when you’re having a bad day, where it seems like one unlucky thing happens after another…it’s probably not really more than any other day, but one of those things in the beginning of the day put you in a bad mood where you notice those little annoying things more and therefore think your day is cursed. I have those days. We all do. I’m a firm believer in wallowing to get over stuff, so when I have those days, I let myself be annoyed and shake my fist at the universe for allowing these horrible (but not really horrible, everything is usually pretty minor in comparison) things to happen to me ALL IN ONE DAY. Then I get over it.

That being said, I have a pretty decent life. I wish that I had the time or energy to give back. I’m not a huge fan of people but I would love to volunteer at a shelter. I’m gonna be honest and say that I’m not really sure that I could handle it even if I had the time, though. Animals affect me in a way that no social injustice ever could. I can see myself getting attached and hurt a lot. I can’t distance myself. I get sad about ratty looking stray cats in my neighborhood just LOOKING at them. And I’m pretty sure most of hem aren’t even strays, just cats that have owners that are too selfish to realize what a horrible idea it is to let their cats roam. It’s not exactly rural here.

Taco forced to live under a newspaper.

It takes me DAYS to get over seeing a dead cat on the side of the road. Hell, I’ll cry about dead SQUIRRELS. How can I be trusted to see animals that have no home all in one place? Ones that may never find their forever home. I can’t bring them all home, even if I could it would be horribly irresponsible of me and unfair to the cats. I like dogs enough, not near the level that I like cats but they’ll bring a tear to my eye too. I just don’t really like being jumped on. And they’re a little smelly for me. But they’re just as innocent and loving.

He’s loved.

Maybe one day I’ll have the time AND figure out how to balance my overly emotional self. Until then I’ll have to help my “karma” by donating when I can and spreading good kitty information. I fancy myself somewhat of an expert in that arena, anyway.

Honey Boo Boo got nothin’ on my cats.

I have to admit, I love my fair share of horrid reality shows. I watch Dance Moms, So You Think You Can Dance, Jersey Shore and some new one I found on CMT, Cheer. I have, as of this moment, been able to resist Honey Boo Boo. The only reason I know about Honey Boo Boo is that this child and her redneckiness make the news. Really? The NEWS? Because there’s not, you know, an election coming up, or political unrest, or other completely valid news-y things to report on. With the exception of Jersey Shore, I maintain that my reality show watching is at least based on hard work and talent. I suppose child pageants have talent shows, but still.

Moosh would make the BEST pageant contestant.

I did, actually, answer the My Cat From Hell casting call. They’re finally branching out from LA, which is good, because Florida is nowhere near LA, and in fact, I’ve never been there. I wrote a very compelling email, and then guided them to my blog. I don’t know if it will even get read, but this blog is as comprehensive as you can possibly get in documenting all of my cats’ issues. I am HOPING that the producers find my cat pee couch story interesting enough that they help me. Cat pee couch hasn’t been done on the show yet. And I really really really want to fix Taco and have my couch back.

Taco is just so freaking cute.

And it does cause problems in my relationship. The boyfriend is not as connected to the boys as I am, although I know he loves them dearly, but he’s definitely not on crazy cat lady status. It’s frustrating enough to have a cat peeing on the couch and being personally upset by it, and then add in the friction of the boyfriend’s frustration and some weird form of guilt (I was raised catholic, although I’m an atheist now, the catholic guilt is ENGRAINED permanently) because we most likely wouldn’t have cats if I wasn’t a crazy cat lady who needs cats.

 

Anyway. I hope they at least give me a chance. We’re very interesting, and Taco could have his OWN damn show. Not to take away from Moosh, he’s my lover kitty, and Taco is the entertaining one. He’s also more photogenic, and I do kind of feel bad that I have more pictures of Taco on my instagram than Moosh, but half the time when I take Moosh’s pic he just looks like a ball of black fur.

Oh, and my favorite reality show of all? FOOTBALL! Sundays are fun days again. Except when my fantasy team loses, which is likely this week as my tight end got me a big fat goose egg on Thursday. Can’t win em all, I suppose.

TECHNOLOGICALLY ADVANCED bad kitty mommy.

As you all may know, today was the first day you could pre-order the new iPhone 5. I currently have the 4 (not 4S, pre-Siri) and it’s about time for an upgrade. Why? It just is. Because I’m an adult and I can. So despite the fact that I ordered it before most people are awake, I missed the first boat and will have to wait 2 weeks instead of just one to receive it. Apparently they sold out in an hour. I would have had to be up at 3. Too early for me. I COULD wait in line at the store, but I’m not THAT crazy. I don’t like people and I don’t like waiting. Sounds horrible.

 

So as I sit here in between jobs (I would normally be at the gym but my leg is incredibly sore, I think I pulled something as usual), I have Taco on my lap purring, and it occurs to me that I could have bought my boys a very nice cat tree with the money I just spent on a cell phone. I barely even use it as a phone. Everything else, yes.

Y U NO LOVE ME MOM

Moosh Moosh needs his shots, too, which is about the price of the phone, that I will be putting off, since I just bought a phone that is better but not incredibly different than the one I currently have (except it’s bigger, thinner, the front facing camera is 720p now, that’s a big deal, if you’ve ever used the front facing camera on the iPhone you will know that there is NO flattering angle even remotely possible).

This is actually a vaguely flattering picture but it’s so freaking grainy.

 

Beyond the cats, I could have used the money to buy a laptop, which I actually NEED, or rather, I NEED in order to do work while watching football instead of being chained to the desk away from TVs. Which in itself makes me a bad kitty mom to WANT to do that because Taco only sits on my lap when I’m sitting at the computer (like right now – he’s so purry and cute!). He’ll probably feel so alone if I have a computer on my lap instead. He’ll be heartbroken and run away. Moosh will be fine, I suppose, he likes my shoulders better anyway.

 

But yeah. I’m an iWhore. We all have our vices. Don’t judge.

 

Forced brotherly love.

It’s afternoon, so it’s kitty sleepy time. Taco was asleep in the computer chair, while Moosh was in his makeshift cat bed that wasn’t supposed to be a cat bed but converted to one once I realized that he was going to continue to use it as a cat bed whether I liked it or not.

 

The boyfriend wanted to sit in the computer chair occupied by sleeping Taco, so he picked him up without disturbing his position and placed him right on top of sleeping Moosh.

 

What happened?

 

Nothing.

The afternoon sleepy is the sleepiest of all. They were both too sleepy to protest. I was surprised that neither of them moved, and even more surprised when they STILL didn’t move while I got my phone and snapped some pictures.

Whatevs. Crazy humans.

Another picture? Yup.

After about 10 minutes of this, Moosh had enough, stood up, which annoyed Taco, and moved to the box next to the bed. Taco, being annoyed, grabbed on to his back leg and tried to swipe him but both were really too tired to pursue anything more and resumed sleeping. Which they’re still doing. I wish I slept that well.

Gratutious cuteness.

I couldn’t help myself, Taco was being adorably sleepy yesterday…so I took something like a bazillion pics. I’ve never really fancied myself a photographer (I DO, however, consider myself an artist, but I prefer sketching and crafting) so my little low-grade point-and-click camera has always sufficed. So now that I am trying to get all crazy getting good blog pics, I realize it is much tougher than it seems to take a good picture. Of course, this could be because I don’t have a $500 Nikon (they have one of those in pink! Not a good reason, I know, but I am a sucker for product presentation – I’ve been a Mac girl since I was a kid compliments of my dad’s preference and I fell in love with Apple all over again when they really started pushing the pretty product envelope…so excited about the new iPhone! And although I need a  laptop and I know I could buy a perfectly good PC one for a fraction of the price of an Apple…I refuse. So I keep putting the laptop in my cart and then chickening out. I suck at saving, but I’m terrified of big purchases even though I end up spending just as much on a bunch of little ones. I’m pretty sure impulse buying is an addiction, and I need an intervention. Wow. Totally off topic here.) so maybe I just have to take a crapload of pics to get a good one. I prefer thinking that over the option that I am a bad photographer, I’m good at everything I do. And if I’m not, I don’t do it.

So without further adieu, I present my very first gallery, along with titles. I call it “Eau de Taco.” Should you like to purchase prints of these works of art, I’m sure that can be arranged for a small fee.

“Why Are You Doing This”

“One Lone Softpaw”

“I See What You Did There”

“Enough With This”