rambles

On Sunday it rained all day — which is really becoming a straight pain in the ass here in North Carolina. We planned to hang out with two of our young nieces, so we let them decide what we were going to do since our original outside plan was foiled. Their decision? Dave & Busters. Why? Last time they were there they saw a fake poop in the arcade that they couldn’t live without winning. Now, originally I was all for this and I thought playing a bunch of games would be pretty fun… even if the endgame was a piece of plastic crap.

Wrong. Wrong on all accounts.

Our Dave & Busters is in our mall. I didn’t take into account it would be full of parents that want to shop on weekends but not deal with their kids. So, of course the easy answer was to let the arcade babysit them. There were dozens of them. Everywhere. 50 unsupervised preteens? Hell… it’s hell, I tell you. I have a new found respect for teachers. Bless your poor, patient souls.

Even worse, it cost $65 to earn enough tickets for the poop.

I’m not sure who’s worse. The parents who let their rude, loud kids ruin an expensive arcade? Or me, for spending $65 on a fake piece of shit I could buy for $5 at a store?

It’s me. The answer is me.

cat lady chronicles, rambles, things that matter

ziggy the cat, cuddling pimp

Ziggy, our foster cat, has been dubbed the official “Pimp of Cuddling.” Of course, it didn’t take long for this guy to find a new home. He took a liking to females — whether it was human or cat.

ziggyface

He’s got more game than my husband. Okay. Not really. Shh

ziggypix2

Although I know he’s found a great home, he is missed.

ziggypix

rambles

I love what the internet has become. Mainly because I don’t have to do jack to learn anything new except pull up Google or find a how-to video on YouTube. Lazy people, unite! You can seriously find YouTube videos on doing anything. I’ve watched them for car repairs, yoga sequences, and most recently for some better makeup tips. There are hundreds of them on there. After clicking through a bunch of them, I realized most of these girls are just that — girls. Some 15… some 17. Should I be impressed? Embarrassed? Angry that I suck that much at applying makeup? It was rough.

A 28 year old married woman… getting makeup advice from a 15 year old high school freshman. I’m pretty mortified. Even worse, I tried her tips today and got several compliments… It’s not every day you’re forced to admit a 15 year old is more knowledgeable than you at something. For shame.

Time to go back to the rock I’ve been living under.

rambles

Today I was sitting in the backyard on the hammock talking to my mom on the phone. Here I am, swinging and minding my own business and out of nowhere this huge deer appears on the edge of the yard where it meets the woods. I know it seems totally ridiculous to be afraid of deer, but damn — their beady eyes and large stature freak me the hell out. Not to mention their no-fear attitude when it comes to cars hitting them. This deer had to go, so I hung up the phone and started walking slowly towards it to scare it away. It didn’t move. So I made a loud noise. Didn’t move. I got desperate and started screaming while flapping my arms and running towards it. Instead of running away it took a step towards me.

Deer are supposed to run away. So why wasn’t this one? Was it plotting something? Did it have rabies? The plague? Was it going to attack me? Bite me? Had the zombie apocalypse started? Was it trying to tell me something? I got so spooked by my thoughts –I– ended up being the one sprinting away screaming bloody murder while the deer remained there staring.

Fine deer, you win this time. You’re just lucky I wasn’t in a car.

cat lady chronicles, rambles

Cats are assholes. There’s no way around this statement — it’s the honest truth. Sure, they are soft, cute, have the most viewed videos on YouTube and have entire websites dedicated to funny pictures of them with captions. (shoutout lolcats) But don’t be fooled!

cathappy

There are many perks of having a cat. It’s all about how you look at it.

1. They can help reduce your carbon footprint by replacing your alarm clock. You’ll be woken up every morning by a cold wet nose being shoved right into your eyelid. If you’re lucky — claws may also be involved. Cock-a-doodle-doo!

2. Save time by not washing your face at night. It won’t be worth it — your cats will take it upon themselves to walk all over your pillows with dirty litter paws. Plus, this is the best place for your cat to kick a leg up and do it’s nightly tongue cleaning. Pink Eye alert!

3. Used to being totally repulsed by finding hair in your food? All over your clothes? Stuck between your toes? In your bellybutton? Get used to it. It’ll be the norm now. Start saving it up and one day you’ll have a cruelty-free fur coat.

4. Love getting massages? Good thing you have a cat. You’ll get free nightly ones. It may be when you’re in a dead sleep, and it may not be anywhere near your muscles. But your cat will do it’s best to help knead your stomach, butt, face and anywhere else that’s umcomfortable. Bonus – very sharp claws will be involved.

5. Have you ever had the urge to vent your feelings and have someone listen without passing judgment? Vent to your cat — they most likely hate you and will ingore everything so there’s no loss there.

In all reality, I love my cat. I think her “don’t give a shit” attitude is what makes me a cat-lover. We have a lot in common and I’m convinced she’s my spirit animal.

rambles

Today I had the pleasure of shopping at Abercrombie with my cousin. Or displeasure. I remember this store being popular when I was in high school… which was sadly now over a decade ago (man I’m ancient.) But I do NOT remember the migraine-inducing volume of music and heavy stench of perfume that gets burned into the walls of your nose. Not sure how this entices people to buy their clothes… it just makes me want to run away screaming while elbowing all the kids in my way.

Worst of all, the girls who work there have waists the size of my thigh. I may be exaggerating a teeny-tiny bit, but not much. It doesn’t get more depressing than that, folks.

I just don’t get the appeal — which makes me feel like I’m hitting that point in adulthood when I turn into my mother because she just never understood ANYTHING cool when I was young. It’s a scary, chill-inducing thought.

I need some anti-aging cream, stat! And a Dr. to pump the perfumey stench of teenage angst and depression out of my lungs would be useful, too.

rambles

On 3-day-weekends I always get so excited. Holidays in Blair’s world = comfy clothes, a blanket, junk food, and Netflix marathons. On any other major holiday, I’ll be happy to spend hours baking your pumpkin pies, or hunting down an ugly sweater to wear… but please, family, no…not Labor Day! I love you, y’all are awesome, but I might consider suicide bombing and taking out everyone if you don’t leave me alone.

I woke up Monday so excited my plan was finally coming to fruition. I rolled out of bed, piled my hair on top of my head, dragged my favorite fluffy blanket off the bed to the couch, got a hot cup of coffee and assumed the position. No sooner than loading up Netflix, in creeps Alex with an announcement:

Alex: We are supposed to be meeting everyone at the children’s museum soon.

Me: No way. What the hell, we don’t even have kids!

Alex: So, it will be fun to see our nieces and nephew…

Me: What! We saw them yesterday. I’m not getting dressed. I’ve deemed it a yoga pants and baggy t-shirt day. It’s already set in stone. Can’t change plans now. Sorry

Alex: You can wear what you have on.

Me: Ew. No I can’t. This really makes me mad. I wanted to lie here all day and be a roly-poly.

Alex: We won’t be gone long.

Me: I’m not going.

Alex: You’re being stubborn.

Me: Tell everyone I said ‘Hi!’

Alex (starts walking away) Well, we’re going to Olive Garden after and you’re going to miss the breadsticks.

Me: Okay, fine……………. I’ll get ready. Why didn’t you just start with that?

The day actually ended up being pretty fun. I do love my family, but sometimes I just want to forget we live five minutes away from my husband’s family and go into bear-style hibernation and avoid everyone. Sadly, food can literally convince me to do just about anything. Take note, people!