the end of ‘forced family fun’

Crazy Aunt Karen. Everyone has one, right? That one odd-ball relative that every family member has collectively decided is a bit, you know… off. Her hair looks like she stuck a fork into an electrical socket. Her clothes are fresh out of the 90’s. And, even though you’re well into your twenties, her Christmas gifts consist of Winnie the Pooh t-shirts and watermelon Lipsmackers. She means well, though, and damn… she is entertaining to talk to. Bless her heart. I’d rather hang out with my crazy aunt over my judgmental one any day. Don’t those ones blow? They always make the holidays cringe-worthy. (I’m sure y’all have those relatives, too. Family members can be too critical sometimes.)

For someone who is a Christmas fanatic, I’m happy for it to be over. I’ve been drowning in a pool of family members, fattening food, and forced social gatherings for too many days straight. My mind is over stimulated and I’d be lying if I said Christmas being over was anything but a relief. A sweet one. Bring on the fleece pants, hoodies, and fuzzy slippers… I’m overdue and ready to hide out in my house for a few days with no one but Alex and the cats.

How did your Christmas go? Did you get anything exciting? Anything you’ve been patiently (or impatiently) waiting for? My favorite gift on Christmas was running shoes. I know, boring and practical. They are expensive, though, and I never would have paid for them on my own. It’s tough being a cheapskate, guys.

We’ve also decided on a name for our kitten. Thanks to everyone for your suggestions. Alex and I religiously combed over them, and got excited over every new name that was brought up. We really appreciate y’all for taking the time to leave us ideas. We have gone with the name Tora. Which is Japanese for ‘tiger.’ Under her dark patches, she has orange and cream colored stripes, so we thought it was fitting. The name was suggested by ‘New Bloggy Cat.’ Thanks, NBC!  I owe you a forced awkward hug or something.

welcome, little hellraiser

From the age of four, my Christmas list always had a puppy or kitten as my #1 most wished for gift. Seriously, I wrote it every damn year. Twenty-five years later, Santa has finally made my wish come true. Took him long enough, right? Bastard.

This sweet 3-month-old kitty is actually a Christmas gift from my in-laws. (Sit down, Santa) Alex and I were looking for a kitten with a similar personality of our resident cat, Pix, so they would mesh well together. Well, my mother-in-law found the perfect kitten at the vet school she works at.  She and her litter-mates were found at the high-kill animal shelter and brought in to teach vet students how to spay/neuter. And, well… she is painfully sweet and adorable. We are in love already. We’ve been taking our time with her introduction to Pix, and it’s been going better than we expected. No hissing or growling so far. (We are expecting this to change,though lol) Pix has always been around cats and dogs, so we aren’t too worried.

Do you have any good cat names? We are blanking on a good name for her, and have been referring to her as “Christmas Kitty” for the past two days. We like names that are a bit different. Help a girl out

Merry Christmas, guys. I hope your weekends are filled with an overabundance of family time, great food, desserts so sweet your teeth are contemplating jumping ship, and of course, happiness. I’m truly looking forward to reading everyone’s Christmas recaps and seeing pictures.

when life gets hot and sticky

Has there ever been a period of time when you stop and think ‘hey, life is pretty perfect right now.’ You’re fitting into your favorite jeans, you just found out your arch enemy was arrested for public indecency, and, hell… for the first Christmas in years, money isn’t an issue. You’re shocked, grateful, and there’s no possible way to love life more than you do in this very moment. Then, not even a day later, a hot and sticky shit-storm rains all over your head and snaps you back into reality. Life is never that easy. Don’t ever think that. C’mon, now.

Things in my life were pretty damn awesome until I hit Saturday. I was deep into my final Christmas shopping trip in the mall, when I noticed I had toilet paper stuck to my shoe from an hour earlier. When it was time to leave, and I backed out of my parking spot, my entire front bumper got ripped off my car. (Yes, I’m the dumbass who pulled up too far over the curb.) Then, after I had a minor  major meltdown in the parking lot and finally made it home, Alex pointed out that there was white goop crusted above my lip from my beloved Starbucks drink. It wasn’t pretty, folks.

Sunday – I woke up sick.

Just remember — you are at the mercy of god/fate/karma/whatever you believe in. You’re their bitch, and they won’t be shy to knock you down a few pegs when needed. Never get too comfortable. It goes just as fast as it comes

 

you’re a stalker

I’m a failure at social media. Absolutely rotten at it. I used to try to get into it, but, after a few years — I simply didn’t give a crap anymore. I think the problem is I don’t understand it. I couldn’t help but feel like I was doing a disservice to everyone by boring them to tears over the contents of my everyday life. Since I’m sparing y’all from that, I’m just going to say: you’re welcome. Oddly enough, I do enjoy reading people’s posts about their lives. Which doesn’t make me a stalker at all. Right? Right?! Hell… we’re all a bunch of goddamned stalkers. All of us. Such creeps. 

I’ve never  posted anything for Flashback Friday. (I hope that’s a thing. I’m not 100%, but I’m going with it.) I assume FF was made up for the slackers who forgot Throwback Thursday and still want a reason to throw up their old photos of peace signs, perked up duck lips, and awkward selfies. So, let’s get to it…

Here I am. Barely 3 years old. A week before Christmas. The very first photo at the start of my embarrassing addiction. To slippers.

Yep, I love slippers and I’ve received them a week before Christmas for the last 26 years straight. Gotta embrace traditions, you know? Do you have something you get every year without fail? Don’t be embarrassed, now…

hands off my fish taco, dog

Well, it’s finally happened. I lost my virginity last night. I have to say — it was pretty magical. We were outside, clutching each other close underneath the Christmas lights.  It was…. perfect.

I finally got to pick out my first-ever live Christmas tree. Woooo. (Come on, guys. I’m married. How sad would it be if I actually was a virgin?) When I was growing up, we always had a fake one. My parents are practical, stuffy neat-freaks. Why the hell would you cut a tree down and bring it inside when it will cause a mess of pine needles all over the floor? Blasphemous! Since our cat is allergic to everything and your mother. (Yes, even YOUR mother. I mean — have you ever heard of a cat allergic to dogs? She’s quite special) We have never had a real tree because we were afraid it would bother her.

Sadly, the tree won’t be living in our house due to the cat, but my in-laws still invited us to dinner and to help them pick their two out. For a Christmas fanatic — it tickled my fancy quite a bit.

But, we had a debate last night that needs to be settled. I’m really curious about y’all’s opinions: At the restaurant where we had dinner there was a man with a service dog next to us. He was an emotional support dog. The man was eating alone and sharing all of his food with the begging pup. When the man ran out of fries to supply to him, the dog started begging at nearby tables for random people’s food. Our opinions were all different at the table. If you were sitting at the table with us, what would you be thinking? (I don’t think the poll can be seen on the Reader)

 

keep your curtains closed

Fun Fact: When you randomly wake up around 2-3 am there is an 80% chance someone is staring at you.

How many people will be shitting their pants tonight while trying to fall asleep? I wake up in the middle of the night almost every night, so whether this is true or not, I’m scarred. From now on, we’ll all be stuck waking up in a panic at 2 am. Peering around like lunatics with our blankets clutched to our faces and fumbling to use our phones as flashlights. There are some good times ahead, guys.

Well, it’s December. My favorite month of the year. My husband has finally agreed to shave his beard, and later in the month we all get to come together and celebrate the birth of one kickass individual. We can sing songs. Eat cookies. Drink a lot of wine. Give some gifts. It’s a day for everyone to be joyful.

Obviously… I’m talking about myself. My birthday is next week. Go get your party hats ready. (I guess Jesus’s birthday and Christmas are pretty important parts of December, too.)

embrace your inner crazy

For the love of God!  I mean… Cats! For the love of cats!

I’ve been trying to stay on top of my Christmas shopping this year, and I’m happy to announce: I’ve been kicking some serious ass. I’m almost done.  So, I’m pretty sure that warrants a pat on the back or something as it’s not even December yet. And a cookie. Maybe a brownie. Okay…both. I want both, damn it.

Who’s getting the most gifts from us this year? The cat. Yep, you read that right. Our pet cat. I’m not sure how or when this happened, but I’ve become one of those strange cat ladies.  The kind that has conversations with a non-verbal cat more often than with other human beings. Sometimes we share pieces of cheese together and take turns licking the same ice cream cone. (Okay, I don’t actually do that. Have you ever smelled cat breath? Blech.)  Sadly, I’m not even 30 yet. I didn’t think crazy-cat-lady syndrome could happen so early.

So far, she will have a new cat tree, water fountain, automatic feeder, litter box, bed, blanket, and a slew of toys under the tree. I can’t wait to see the look on her face on Christmas morning when she gets to open them all.

……. We really need to have kids or something. This is getting scary. Help

adopt a cat, save your eyelids

You know those assholes that are already decorating for Christmas even though Thanksgiving hasn’t even rolled around yet? What the hell, right? Can’t we take one holiday at a time? Stop trying to shove Christmas down our throats with your pretty lights, touching TV ads and joyful music. Enough is enough already.

Well… I am one of those assholes. I love all things Christmas. The earlier the better, I always say.

My love for the holidays took a horrific turn last night, though. When a 2 inch long roach crawled out of one of the decoration boxes that we had brought in from the garage. I almost had a heart palpitation. This bitch was so big I could literally hear him crawling on the floor from 5 feet away. I panicked. Fight or flight? What do I do? Am I actually able to approach and kill this thing without gagging and throwing up everywhere? If I don’t kill it, it will for sure eat my eyelids in my sleep.

Then, a 6 pound hero emerged. She raced over and chomped the roach right in half and stood guard on the box until Alex got home to take over. She just may have saved my eyelids from being eaten last night. Go adopt a homeless cat. Save your eyelids, people!

(the panic was real)

(Okay, I know she doesn’t give a crap about guarding a box for me and just wanted a tasty snack. But still — go adopt a homeless cat, anyway)