CAT!
By Kristabella | June 17, 2009
Last night I got a taste of what it would be like to have a newborn and have to take care of her/him myself (which is a very real possibility because if I never get hitched, I’m having a baby somehow.)
See, it was very hot in my house last night. According to the thermostat it was about 79 in my tiny shoebox of a condo. And since it was storming and pissing rain outside, all the windows were closed. (Good news, though, no more leaks!) So I felt like I was suffocating. I thought about turning the air conditioning on, hesitating only because it was only about 60 outside and really, if it is that cool, the A/C is a tad unnecessary, no?
But I was sweating and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep well. So then I slapped myself and was like “hey jackass! Isn’t this why you wanted a place with central air in the first place? Put on your big girl panties, stop worrying about it and just turn the damn thing on!”
So I was all “you’re right self. And boy, you sure pack quite a punch! Have you been working out?” And myself answered “no, this is the arm I use to lift all those glasses of booze to my mouth, so it gets a lot of use. Who needs a gym when you can get these guns from drinking?” And then I laughed “oh self, you’re so witty.” And myself was all “stop fucking stalling and turn on the damn A/C!” “OK SELF! Don’t be so fucking pushy! GEEZ!”
At first I thought just the fan would be OK. But I’m not too sure exactly what that is. Is it just re-circulating the hot air in my house? Is it pulling air from the outside? It wasn’t that cool anyway, so the conversation I had in my head about where this air was coming from (the upstairs neighbor’s bathroom?) was moot.
It was like sweet, sweet nectar blowing out of those vents when I turned on the air conditioning. All those years of suffering in that apartment, with only a window unit, were so worth it. Being cold when I sleep, in the summer, and not having to worry about a puddle of water on the floor from the condensation is a beautiful thing.
That is until I heard an oddly familiar sound.
“MEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW. MEEEEEEEEEEOW!”
Kitty Kitty has this meow that is only reserved for when she’s scared or hurt or SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT DAMMIT! I am quite familiar with this meow. It’s the meow I heard when we drove across the country in my Nissan Sentra and she spent the entire trip under my seat, never eating or drinking for three days. It is the sound she makes when we go to the vet. It is the sound she made when we moved into the condo and she lost her fucking shit and peed on EVERYTHING!
I do not like this sound. Not one bit, I tell you.
After hearing this meow, I went to find her. She was cowering on the bed. I picked her up and calmed her down. She seemed to be OK, so I put her back on the bed. And then there was that MEOWING again. She was frozen in one spot. She would not move out of the bedroom. Because outside the bedroom? The CLOSET OFF DOOM!
(Right outside my bedroom door is a closet with the heating and air conditioning thingys and the water heater. See below.)
I tried everything. I showed her the inside of the closet “see Kitty, nothing to be afraid of.” And then I forced her outside the bedroom, which was quite comical and she ran past that closet like her tail was on fire. I gave her treats. I told her it would be OK like she was a human and that would help! I TRIED EVERYTHING!
So then I said fuck it and I went to bed. She wasn’t leaving the bedroom, actually she wasn’t leaving the window sill in the bedroom, so I figured we would be fine. She seemed to have calmed down a bit and the meowing was at a minimum.
Some time after I got in bed, the a/c went off because it had cooled off enough. She clearly got comfortable with this and was like “whew! That was one horrible fucking nightmare! Thank God that is over!” And then she proceeded to go to bed.
And then 2 AM rolled around. “MEEEEEOOOOOWWWWWW! MEEEEEEEEOW! MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The a/c kicked back on. And she was taken back to that horrible place! Where things made noise! And “OMG! HUMAN! Are you hearing these things coming out of that closet? The whooshing? And air blowing? WHY ISN’T THAT OTHER CAT AWAKE? WHY IS NO ONE SCARED THAT WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE? I MUST WAKE THEM NOW! MEEEEEEOOOOOOWWWWWW!”
So I woke up. Because that shrill screeching? Like an infant crying. It’s impossible to sleep through it for any length of time. I got up and I called her over and I petted her and I tried to calm her down. And then I told her to fuck off because I needed my sleep and it was a fucking air conditioner for pete’s sake.
Tonight it is cooler in the house and not raining, so I don’t need it on. But the next time I have to turn it on, you best believe I’m recording that ear-piercing howl with the new voice memo function on my phone so you can all FEEL MY PAIN.
I can’t wait until the first time I have to dog-sit for my brother and introduce these stupid cats to Bella the Pug. But how could they be afraid of this pug’s mug? Seriously.
Topics: Crazy Cat Lady | 20 Comments »
I’ll Show You Where To Wag That Finger, Sir
By Kristabella | June 15, 2009
On Sunday afternoon I was out running errands, like I do most Sunday afternoons. I generally put everything off until the last possible moment because I’m a lazy motherfucker. But this week, I had an excuse. I was gone all day Saturday, literally from the time I woke up until 11 PM, so I didn’t have any time to go grocery shopping or do laundry or any of the host of other things I usually cram into my Sunday afternoons.
One of the errands was doing my weekly grocery shopping. As I was driving home from the grocery store, I got into a bit of an altercation. I will preface, I’ve got a bit of The Rage when I drive. I may have been known to give people the finger, or lay on my horn until it stops working (true story!) or follow people who piss me off, just to make them shit their pants. I do realize this is the STUPIDEST thing to do and that one of these times, I’m going to get shot. But I am getting better. I used to be really bad. Until some dude fucking kicked my car door in at a stoplight.
Anyway, on Sunday there was a street fest near my grocery store. Which meant most of the east/west streets were closed and everyone had to take the ONE east/west street that wasn’t blocked. It took me like 30 minutes to go 2 miles on the way to the store. So on the way home, I figured I’d go further south before I cut back west. It would have taken longer, but it didn’t matter because it meant I would not be sitting in traffic. On a Sunday.
So I was driving south, planning ahead of time to turn right on a street named Lawrence (like my dad!). But I grew impatient with the stop lights and stupid people, so I figured I would turn right sooner than Lawrence, to get on the side streets. I came up on an intersection and the light turned red, so I screeched to a halt stopped. I figured now was as good a time as any to turn right. So I checked the traffic and figured it was OK to turn.
BUT, as soon as I turned the corner, I realized I was turning onto a one-way street and I was GOING THE WRONG WAY! Since I made some weird-ass wide turn onto this one-way street and didn’t want to be hit head on, I decided the only thing to do, the safest thing to do, was run the red light and continue going back South. There was NO traffic on that one-way street, so I did not put anyone in harm’s way.
I was really shook up about it. I am a rule follower. I don’t do things like that, especially things that could end up hurting people. I am as impatient as a toddler, but I can WAIT at red lights. I abide by the rules of the road.
As I continued South to Lawrence, I was freaking out and talking to myself saying “I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe I ran a red light. OH MY GOD! THANK YOU JESUS! I’m so glad no one was hurt, including myself!”
I pulled up at the light on Lawrence and it was red, of course. So I waited for my chance to turn right. When all of a sudden I hear someone shouting over the music coming out of my radio. And it isn’t me singing along with Kelly Clarkson. It is something entirely different. And then I do something stupid, I turn toward the shouting.
Next to me, on a major street, at a major intersection, is some asshat who has decided it is HIS business to tell me that I was wrong for going through a red light. NO SHIT SHERLOCK. And he scolds me. And tells me about how people could have been hurt and I could have been T-boned by the traffic. Complete with hand gestures to show me what that would look like if my car was his one hand and an imaginary car was his other hand. T stands for TOOL. To which I should have said, “not possible jackass. The only way I was going to get T-boned is if someone else was going the wrong way down a one-way street. I ran a red light to avoid the possibility of being hit HEAD ON. WORSE THAN BEING T-BONED, FUCKWIT!”
I didn’t say any of these things. I was still so shaken up byt the whole thing that I apologized profusely. Along with placing my hand to my chest, showing just how sorry I was and that I honestly didn’t mean to do it. I’m a poor excuse for an aggressive driver.
And then the motherfucking cocksucker WAGGED HIS FINGER AT ME! And then the light turned and he continued on his merry, pretentious way in his stupid Mercedes. And he’s lucky, considering the part of town we were in, that he didn’t get a gun pulled on his ass.
I was SHOCKED. Between the red light running and the jackass and his finger wagging, I got ANGRY. I was so mad at myself for letting that asshole talk to me like that. Like he’s fucking Barney Fife and making a citizen’s arrest. What good does scolding me do? What’s done is done. If he was paying any lick of attention, he would have seen it wasn’t intentional. Fucking people, you know?
I’m glad that I didn’t do anything in retaliation. Like I said, not the best part of town, even during the day. And while Pretentious McWaggyPants looked like a royal douchebag, he totally could have been packing heat in the back of his pseudo SUV. So it is for the best that I just call him names on my blog and Twitter.
At least it makes me feel better.
Topics: A Day in the Life of Me, Transit Tales | 19 Comments »
Here Comes The Sun
By Kristabella | June 14, 2009
This past Saturday my favorite niece Skyler had her first ballet recital. It was as adorable as you can imagine, watching a bunch of wee little girls dance around on stage.
Skyler is actually one of the youngest in her class. The class is for three year olds, but the cut off was September 1. And Skyler’s birthday is in October. But after taking another session of her dance class from last fall, which is just called Creative Movement because it is for little ones, the teacher said Skyler was good to move up to the real class. The class with a recital, where all of us could come watch her perform and she would have a costume!
So since she is 3 1/2, she’s been practicing this routine once a week for the last nine months. Understandably, she started to hate ballet. Probably because she was tired of hearing the same damn song over and over and over. So to get my stubborn niece to actually participate in the recital and be a good girl, cake was promised. (One of the many ways we’re similar, Skyler and I, is our love of cake.) But when they went to the high school auditorium for dress rehearsal earlier in the week and Skyler saw the big stage, she was ready to perform. She was ready to show the world her mad ballet skillz!
It was literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. The show was comprised of eight different dance classes, including Skyler’s. They were all the younger kids, most of them Skyler’s age or just a year or two older. Just watching all the cuteness made my uterus ache. But none were cuter than our girl.
They danced to Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles. Skyler was very serious and very focused while she danced. And was singing most of the words to the song.
Afterwards she got some flowers and we gushed all over her at how cute she was and how well she performed! Our prima ballerina. She was all smiles and loved the flowers.
And of course, I was the proudest Auntie in the entire auditorium!
You can see the rest of the photos here. The ones at the actual recital are crappy because we couldn’t use the flash and we weren’t super close.
Here is the video, if anyone wants to watch. It’s only about 3 minutes and you will get a toothache from the cuteness. Or maybe you won’t because you’re not related to her.
Skyler Ballet Recital June 2009 from kristabella on Vimeo.
Topics: All in the Family | 22 Comments »
Summer of 69 09
By Kristabella | June 10, 2009
Back a few months ago, I wrote a post about weather. Because when you’re one cat shy of crazy, spinster cat lady, you can talk of nothing besides cats and weather. Also, I’m preparing myself for when I’m old when all I’ll want to do is talk about the weather. Probably because weather unites us all! Especially in Chicago! We have commonalities to complain about, young and old! Huzzah!
Anyway, in that post, I basically pissed off Spring. Because she was a big fucking tease and never came around. And then a funny thing happened, some time around the end of May, Spring came. But see, usually in Chicago, the end of May is when we see our first 90-degree days. And from Memorial Day on, it’s summer. Hot, sweaty, change-your-shirt-three-times-a-day, stock-up-on-deodorant summer. People are turning on the A/C, breaking out the bathing suits and complaining and wishing for the days when it was cool and you didn’t sweat through your clothes blow drying your hair first thing in the morning.
But that hasn’t happened. Not even close. Right now, on the evening of June 10, it is in the 50s. Last night? I had to close all the windows and put on a sweatshirt because it was chilly! ON JUNE FUCKING 10!
I’ve been back in Chicago since 2005, so this will be my fifth summer back in the Land of Humidity. And every summer I’ve lived in the city, by this time, I’ve installed the window A/C unit and have turned it on at least once. I actually remember buying my window A/C unit on Memorial Day about three years ago because it was too fucking hot and I just couldn’t take it any more. This year on Memorial Day? It was rainy and barely got up to 65 degrees.
So clearly, my post about Spring really set off Mother Nature. She is not having any of my insubordination. And she’s going to make me pay. By wearing sweaters and fleece jackets in June. DURING THE DAY. And hiding the sun from us just long enough that we forget where we put our damn sunglasses. And then have to drive home from work all squinty.
This is either payback for that post or she saw me trying on those 2 new bathing suits I bought and just put out a preemptive strike for all of the world. She saw the display of massive chunks of pasty white skin, riddled in cellulite and said “Nuh, uh. No way. NO ONE needs to see that.” And she cranked down the thermostat.
Lest you think Mother Nature is fucking around, remember that I was living in a third-floor walk-up with only a small window air conditioner that I couldn’t run all the time because I don’t have piles of gold in my closets, and it was HOT all the time. Living in that apartment, I would have KILLED for it to be this cool for as long as possible. All I dreamt about was the day I would live some place that I had central air. Now that I have central A/C and do not have to worry about the SUFFOCATING HEAT INSIDE MY HOUSE anymore, now that bitch Mother Nature turns the weather cool and I can’t even turn the A/C on because it’s too cold outside for it to even kick on. Oh, the irony! I HEAR YOU CACKLING, MOTHER NATURE!
YOU WIN THIS ROUND! NOW WARM THIS BITCH UP! A-SAP!
I bet she can’t wait for us to all start complaining about the heat and humidity once she gives up this little game of hers. We get it Mother Nature! You’re powerful! GAH. We totally get it. You win. Now give us summer, for the love of God!
Topics: Weather dot com | 27 Comments »
Not The Nice Kind of Comment Love
By Kristabella | June 9, 2009
I love comments. All bloggers do. Any blogger who says that they don’t are liars. I don’t blog for the comments, but I do love that people take the time to read and comment and usually commiserate with me or laugh with me, or at me. And I like the friendships that I’ve formed with all of you who come here and read my drivel. Because I feel like I know you and you choose to come visit this site because you like me or my cats or my pathetic whinings. And that is all fine and good with me.
I don’t really like strangers. I love new people who find my blog through other friends. I hope they stay around awhile. But no one like trolls.
Which is why I am not the biggest fan of StumbleUpon. I love when people Stumble my posts. In theory. I love that someone thought it was funny enough, or well written enough, that they wanted to share with EVERYONE ON THE INTERNET. It warms my cold, black heart.
But the problem with sharing it with everyone is that you don’t know who is going to stumble upon your post and what kind of asshats might read you blog and figure they have some not nice things to tell you.
I’ve been lucky. I know of plenty big bloggers out there who get stumbled and then get a ra shitstorm of comments from trolls who just love to make people feel like crap. Thankfully, I’m a Q-list blogger who no one knows and who hardly gets Stumbled. Which means, no douchey comments. Generally.
Someone (or someones, whoever you are, thank you!) Stumbled this post, where I re-enact the cats’ puking incident. It is one of my all time favorite posts ever and I laugh whenever I think about it.
But Jason, I don’t think Jason found it funny.
So does Jason think I’m single because I’m hilarious and take time to caption my cats photos? Or am I single because I take photos of my cats? Or am I single because my life is so pathetic, I have nothing else to talk or write about besides my cats? THEY ARE MY REASON TO LIVE!
Also, I’m not sure if having Bacon as a section of my website was pathetic, or it made me less pathetic in Jason’s eyes. And of course Jason left his email address as Jason@hotmail.com, which is probably fake unless he was the first Jason ever to have a hotmail email address. Which probably makes him more pathetic than a single girl who writes funny posts about her cats.
So, just for you Jason (and for Ali too, who loves people who talk about cats), I post this video, which I find oddly hilarious. This is Kitty Kitty cleaning her chin fur.
And now, Jason, I give you something to really make fun of me about. You’re welcome.
Topics: All Things Blogging, Crazy Cat Lady | 40 Comments »