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Shaved kitteh is shaved

by on April 9, 2012, in animals, but in our house we never get bored, my cat's cooler than yours

You’d think I’d have learned my lesson after last year, when I waited until April to have King Boo shaved and wasted almost an entire month chasing around after his tumbleweeds. You’d think, after summer came in February this year and spring was hardly to be seen, that I would have just gone ahead and gotten his hair cut in early March like I kept threatening.

What you don’t know is how glorious his fur is, though. Like a rabbit’s, except that it’s attached to the friendliest and silliest cat I’ve ever known. I wasn’t aware that a personality could attach itself to fur, but apparently it can. And did. And so I procrastinated shaving it off him.

But we’re in this weird, belated spring period now, which means I want the windows open at all times. Which means cat hair that had fled beneath the couch has been unearthing itself for the past week. Which means it was time to shave King Boo.

So we did. Well, the groomer did. And now, my beautiful, sweet, silly, kind cat who’s never in a bad mood and usually looks like this:

Shaved kitteh is shaved

Now looks like this:

Shaved kitteh is shaved

He’s gotten over it quicker this year than he did last year, but I think he can tell we’re laughing at him. Poor guy.

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On baseball and revisiting past haunts

by on March 22, 2012, in but in our house we never get bored, jump aboard the crazy train, life etc., past lives, photography

On baseball and revisiting past haunts

Years ago, before Ian and I started dating, we took a trip to Atlanta together to see the Braves play. We had been friends for years, but it was the first out-of-town trip we’d taken together. When we got to the hotel, I fretted a bit over the single bed they assigned us, as I had a boyfriend at the time. I didn’t fret too much, though. It was the first of several trips Ian and I would take as friends, all of which I look back on fondly. Trips that eventually bled the lines between friendship and more. That led me to see who we really were to each other.

This Atlanta trip was not my first to the city, but it was my first Braves game. His dad had gotten us pretty good seats, I recall, and afterward we took the MARTA to Underground Atlanta and hung out in this dirty, dingy Irish bar called Irish Bred. There was nothing Irish about it, but it was filled with other 20-somethings pouring cheap beer down their gullets. We found a table on their patio and made friends with some people from the University of Florida. Or maybe it was Florida State.

Eventually we paid our tab and headed to the MARTA station—on the way to which we were accompanied by a homeless man who professed to know where the best party in town was, and would we follow him there? Ian had a bit too much to drink and thought this was a great idea, but luckily he took my advice and followed me to the train station instead (where he proceeded to inform me that the way to avoid potentially dangerous situations was to “make everyone aware that you are crazier than they are,” and then he began singing L.A. Woman, specifically that he was Chief Mojo Risin’).

We visited Atlanta again in 2003, and went back several times while we were dating, but we haven’t been there since we got married in 2008. But with the news of Chipper Jones retiring, this is going to change—this summer.

I don’t think our Irish bar exists anymore, and I’m not sure Underground Atlanta has fared well over the years, but it will be fun to go back and spend some time in one of our favorite southern cities, seeing what kind of mischief we can get into. That’s the thing about being married to someone you’ve known for 15 years—you have plenty of memories to call on, but it’s effortless to make new ones, too.

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Fa la la la la

by on December 15, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored, holidays, life etc., video games

I haven’t really had the urge to blog lately, though I don’t think it’s because I’ve been super-busy. I mean, I have been, but that’s never been an excuse to not blog. Ugh, I don’t mean for this to turn into one of those “Sorry I haven’t updated lately!” posts, either, because I hate those. I only blog for myself, so if anything this is an apology to my future self when I come back here to figure out what I was doing in the fall and winter of 2011 and there’s no record of my life.

Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim came out Nov. 11, which was a game I’d been looking forward to for about five years. It’s consumed my weekends lately, and some weeknights. It’s worth it, though. It’s the third Elder Scrolls game I’ve played but the first I’ve played on the Playstation platform (I played Morrowind and Oblivion on the Xbox and Xbox 360, respectively), and there have been some freezing bugs that I’ve had to work through, but for the most part I’m pleased with the game on the platform. I bought it for the Playstation because that’s the system that’s got Internet access, so I’m crossing my fingers for some sweet DLC.

And despite the fact that I’m not Christian and I do not, in fact, try to keep the Christ in Christmas, I’ve really been enjoying this holiday season. I have finished all of my holiday shopping, and I was able to complete about 99 percent of it online. Actually, being able to avoid rabid asshole shoppers is probably why I’ve been able to enjoy the season.

I decorated our bookshelf with big colorful lights, our living room window with small, warm white lights, and the kitchen cabinets with light-up stars. I’ve already burned through my WoodWick pine-scented candle, but another one is on the way. I used to get bummed out that we couldn’t have a tree in the house because of the cats, but I think I like our tradition of decorating the bookshelf and putting presents underneath it better, anyway. No trees are killed, no sap stains the floor and the cats really don’t give a shit about trying to eat the lights after about 20 minutes of them being up.

To me, Christmas is completely secular. It’s that feeling when the air has turned bitterly cold but the house is warm, and turning on sparkly lights and sitting under the Slanket on the couch with Ian and the cats makes it even warmer. It’s sharing wine and good food with friends and family as we exchange gifts and cards. It’s the smell of pine or mistletoe-scented candles that crackle as I fall asleep on the couch each night.

It’s a last bastion of contentedness before we move into the doldrums of winter, which always bring with them a boring nothingness that drags on until the terrain begins to green again in the spring.

But for now the lights are up and the candle is lit, and it’s Christmas.

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A family Thanksgiving

by on November 28, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored, holidays, we don't always put the "fun" in dysfunctional

For the first time in… I don’t know, 12 years or so, I was able to celebrate Thanksgiving with my mom and both of my sisters. My two sisters came down to visit last year, too, but this year my mom came along and it was awesome. After 14 years of living in Tennessee I’ve gotten used to crashing friends’ houses, and Ian’s family adopted me as their own years ago, even before we dated, but there’s just something special about having my own family with me for a holiday.

And we had a full house: My mom, two sisters, brother-in-law and two pomeranians (Isu and Oreo, who belong to my sister and brother-in-law) piled in the car and drove down Wednesday, staying until Sunday morning. I wasn’t sure how bringing two small dogs into a four-cat household would work out, but it actually went better than I could have expected. (Except for one incident where Gordo, the oldest cat, got upset and peed on the couch where the dogs had been sitting, hitting my mom’s leg in the process. Sorry about that, mom.)

We packed a lot in: Thursday was Thanksgiving at Ian’s mom’s house, which, like any Southern Thanksgiving, was an all-day affair complete with a deep-fried turkey and plenty of booze. Friday we held Steaksgiving at our house, where Ian grilled steaks and we cooked for 10 people, including his dad, dad’s wife, sister and our nephew. Considering we only have a table that seats four I think we pulled it off OK, even if I did get a little stressed as our three-year-old nephew began grinding cheese into the floor and feeding the dogs crackers, leaving crumbs everywhere. Nothing a little Windex and wine won’t fix, though. (And thankfully we had wine—Ian’s dad, my mom and I together drank four bottles in just a few hours.)

Saturday was Ian’s birthday and he wanted to go to the shooting range, so he and my brother-in-law went up to On Target while my sisters, mom and I took the dogs for a nice long walk on the Greenway and then hit up Digital Planet. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I’m glad now that we were part of Small Business Saturday. Although we did eat lunch at Panera, so I guess we also celebrated Chain Restaurant That Is Pretty Healthy for Fast Food Saturday as well.

That night we all went out to Mellow Mushroom for dinner and more drinks (as with any good Irish/German family, this holiday weekend was very heavy on the booze), and then came back home so Katie and I could sing the shit out of some Rock Band songs. They left Sunday morning, and Ian and I laid around the house nursing hangovers and doing laundry.

And now it’s back to the grind, though my mind is trying to focus on Christmas shopping. It’s also focused on how irritated I get when people tell me I shouldn’t say “Happy Holidays,” but that’s another post for another day.

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Believe it or not, I need to practice my smack-talk

by on September 8, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored, Internet, media, stupid assholes, technology/yes I am a geek

A week ago, the closest I came to caring about football was getting excited about tailgating before the MTSU games and then stumbling into the stadium in just enough time to buy popcorn and catch the end of the fourth quarter.

And now, all of a sudden, I’m playing in two fantasy football leagues and trying to figure out when I need to scream at the TV and when I need to silently plead with my players to not fuck me over. Ok, I’m also trying to figure out how to remember who all I have on my teams.

Also: A big middle finger to whoever designed the UI for the Yahoo and ESPN fantasy football sites. It’s as if some assclown with a master’s in annoyance was given full-reign over Microsoft FrontPage and decided to try for his PhD in confusing the ever-loving shit out of anyone who would access these sites.

As if fantasy football isn’t stressful enough already.

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Thoughts

by on July 29, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored, health, or something like it, jump aboard the crazy train, life etc., my cat's cooler than yours, the first rule is you do not blog about work

On Mac OS 10.7, otherwise known as Lion: So far I’m liking it, although I really haven’t gotten to delve into the newness of it too much yet. Except for the natural scrolling “feature” that was introduced. That one I got thrown into headfirst. Basically, Apple has changed scrolling with Lion to mimic the way it’s done with iOS. So instead of moving your fingers or mouse wheel down to scroll down a page, you are pushing the page up or pulling it down. It definitely felt more natural to me when using the trackpad (and, therefore, my fingers) than when using the mouse, but I think I’m about used to it now.

On the weather (because that’s all Middle Tennesseans talk about these days): It’s really goddamn hot. It’s been in the upper 90s for what seems like years now, and the humidity is about a billion percent. And for some reason my allergies are really, really bad this year. So bad that I’ve started doubling my dose of Zyrtec again, something my doctor told me to do one time in the past when I had a bad cold and that caused me to hallucinate and feel like I was walking around in a fog. So far I haven’t hallucinated or heard any voices, but I do feel pretty dizzy and out of it. We’ll see what happens.

On the cats: Somehow King Boo has won over Gordo, who, as you might remember, has hated him with a fiery passion of a thousand suns dipped in hatesauce since the day we brought him home. But we’ve caught Gordo grooming King Boo from time to time, and every morning they have Cat Wrestlemania in the bedroom and Gordo appears to be playing, not actually trying to kill King Boo. So, you know, progress. I’d also like to say a big fat I TOLD YOU SO to all of the haters in the house. I was the only one who liked King Boo when we brought him home, and now he’s won over every single living entity in the house except for Evil Twin, but he sucks and doesn’t count.

On jobs: My new job is still going swimmingly and sometimes I have to pinch myself. I’m starting to get some more responsibilities and pulled into various projects that have been pretty fun. And I still get tickled that I can mention a video game or some weird nerdy meme and not only do these people know what it is, they probably knew about it before I did. I am feeling more at home every day.

And Ian’s doing quite well in the job department, too, as he recently got a really big promotion and is now heading up the department where he’s worked for the last four years. He even has to wear a state-issued cellphone on his belt! Who’s the nerd now?! (Yeah, still me. I know.)

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So! The exercising.

by on July 24, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored, health, or something like it

It’s been nearly two weeks since Ian and I joined the gym, and so far so good. Ian’s working with a trainer twice a month to build muscle, and I’m flying solo to tone up and hopefully lose some weight. We’re trying to hold ourselves to going at least three times a week, four if we have the time.

I’m hoping that plus eating healthier and sitting on the exercise ball at my desk will help me get back on track. And by that I mean “less squishy.”

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Seven years

by on July 2, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored

As of this weekend, that’s how long Ian and I have lived in this house. Our house. I have a lot of good memories in this house, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready to move. I’ve pretty much gotten used to traffic, and we both work at jobs where we’re allowed to have a pretty flexible schedule, but the 80-miles-a-day commute is just beyond old. It might be different if this house had all of the things I wanted in it: Hardwood, a yard, a driveway… But I think we’ve just outgrown it here. I’m ready to reclaim a few more hours of day from the interstate and apply it to my own personal time bank again.

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Weekender

by on May 27, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored, jump aboard the crazy train

After several action-packed, travel-heavy weekends, my plans for this weekend are glorious. Saturday will hold the Renaissance Festival, Sunday will bring Night Cheese, and Monday will entail me sitting on the couch in my pajamas, unshowered, playing Fable 3 all. damn. day.

I am so excited.

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And once again, life gets in the way

by on April 18, 2011, in blogging, but in our house we never get bored, Internet, life etc., travel

I know nobody cares, but it bothers me when I’m bad about blogging. Because ultimately I’m keeping this record of my life for myself, as selfish as that sounds, so that in 10 or 20 or 30 or 40 years I can look back and see what I was up to at a certain moment in my life. And laugh at myself, undoubtedly.

So I was going to recap my New Orleans trip and talk all about how awesome the train was, at least for the first couple of hours, and how I liked walking back through the cars as the train was moving, getting jostled from side to side and seeing the world fly by me out the windows the most. And I was going to tell funny and scandalous stories about the times my friends and I had while in New Orleans, starting with how Ian and our friend John started drinking about 8 a.m. on the way down there, and how by the time we got to the train station in Birmingham John had consumed seven beers and a 4Loko and was yelling out the car window as we drove through the ghetto to find a parking lot.

And I was going to detail how excited I was to be in New Orleans and run into an old, old friend of mine—like, someone I was BFFs with all through elementary school—made possible by checking into a bar on Facebook, of all things. And I was going to recount the fun we had at the St. Patrick’s Day parade that night—old friends, current friends, and new friends all celebrating together—and then how Ian got lost for a short period of time and once again Google Maps and GPS on my iPhone saved the day.

But time has passed, and some stories are better recounted in person, told time after time in bars and at cookouts instead of immortalized by the pen of the Internet. Some things are best held close by the people who experienced them, and not everything has to be validated by blog entry or tweet or Facebook update.

But mainly I’m just lazy.

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