Ever wonder what $30 cat treats look like?

A couple weeks ago Murry staged yet another Great Esk-ah-PAY!

Around three in the morning after the Great Financial Aid Meltdown,  I woke up to the distinct: ka-thump, ka-thunk, MEROOWWW of a liberated cat.  Stumbling out of bed, I was fairly certain of what had gone done and when I turned on the kitchen life my suspicions were confirmed: while participating in overly-exuberant communications with a local ruffian (I'm pretty sure Mom jokes were slung and my honor was impinged) Murry knocked out a window screen and cavorted off into the cold, dark morning to defend my reputation. 

What. A. Dick.

What?  Did you want to read your homework?

 

I went outside to knock the screen back in (we can't bet letting Joe Lewis out or nocturnal Florida wanderers in) and after doing so,  stood around calling his name and shaking a bag of treats in the hopes that I could bribe him home from his adventures.  Then I realized that I was standing in my backyard at three in the morning in my underpants calling my cat to come home.  This may in fact be an all-time low for me, which if you’ve been around the last few months you’ll know, that’s saying something.  However in my experience, early morning all-time lows are just the universe’s way of saying: GO BACK TO BED. 

So back to bed I went and not surprisingly, Murry made his way home all by his onesies about three hours later.  Tuckered out and inordinately sleepy and lazy:  

so very sleepy at 8 am

still...can't...get...up...at 5 pm

Yet he seemed no worse for the wear. 

Ha. 

True to form, that pansy-ass stinker is just not tough enough to be an outdoor adventurer.  I thought that maybe we’d manage to skip making traumatic trip to the vet, but three days  later and a mere four hours before I was supposed to leave for a conference in Orlando, I walked into the my closet and was greeted by a very squinty and (I assume) rather uncomfortable kitty.

what?  this is how my face usually looks

One Friday afternoon emergency trip to the vet later yielded a diagnosis: an upper respiratory infection requiring antibiotic eye ointment and fancy-schmancy, immune-system boosting kitty treats.  I blame the esk-AH-pay.

Ever wondered what thirty dollar cat treats look like?

 

Voila! They have an appetizing chicken-liver flavor and appealing fish-like appearance.  I'm sure that it must be the fish-like appearance that makes them so schmancy. That and the sprinkling of essential amino acids to encourage cellular repair and health and well-being! 

So, two weeks and yet another show of amazing friendship from the amazing people in my life later(three of whom rallied like champs to get us to the vet and to give Mur his twice-daily eye ointment I was in Orlando,) we pulled through. 

At first I was tempted to say that my plea to the universe for life to get just “a little bit easier” had gone unanswered.  Then I thought about how generous people were YET AGAIN with their time and support and I remembered that good friendships trump circumstantial challenges every day of the week.   

Meredith, Andrea, Kristin and Erica…I am SO GRATEFUL FOR YOU! 

It was a very good day..

I started and ended my day today the same way: dancing to terrible pop music in my bathroom. 



Yup.  Today was a very good day. 

The Great Financial Aid Meltdown of 2013

I wrote a blog the other night about the no good, very bad, terrible day that I’d had.  You’re welcome for not posting it, I re-read it this morning and the melodrama just about knocked my socks off. 

 

As much as I love the challenge of trying to do something new, the other night things got just a little too hard.  Across four (yes four) ever growing to-do lists and with time ticking down to the start of summer, the weight of going back to school was feeling a tad too heavy.  Then the University of Florida struck again and I suddenly became unwillingly intimate with the new regulations guiding student loan disbursement.  I know that to get something, you need to give something but … well, I hadn’t factored in how hard loans are to get when you’re working on your second bachelors. 

In an act indulgence that typifies exactly how charmed my life has been, I gave into the overwhelmedness (is that a word?) and took a seat on the cool kitchen floor to let myself have a good wail.  At first I thought that maybe getting it out would make it feel better, so there I was, hiccupping and wallowing in snot on a more than slightly dirty kitchen floor (sweeping isn’t at the top of the Around the House list) and asking the empty air around me when things might get even just a little bit easier.  Not a lot easier but maybe just a little bit easier once in a while.  Sitting there alone I remembered what I always seem to come upon when I let myself go to pieces like this: this act of indulgence doesn’t in fact make anything feel any better.   

The thing is, I pretty much had a default “person" for most of my life to default lean on when things got really hard. (What?  Is that not what boyfriends are for? Could, in retrospect, this dependency (reliance?) potentially account for my singleness?) And so in that moment on the kitchen floor I gave myself an ultimatum: you need to pull yourself out of this – think a goddamn happy thought. 

And what did I come up with but burritos.  Mother effing burritos was the best happy thought that I could come up with.  So I shook myself and had another go: the incredible variety of burritos available.  And guacamole. Straight up pathetic (and perhaps a little hungry) but there I was, smiling through the tears.

Admittedly the smiles were weak and ultimately I had to call in the big guns and sent a “please help” text to Club Fun who pointed out: just need to get to tomorrow, because sometimes tomorrow is when it gets just a little bit easier. 

So while I’m not there yet, I am learning to pull myself up when I’m struggling and stalled but as long there are burritos and good friends in the world it truly does feel just that little bit easier that I need.   And Club Fun was right: the next day I found my way and it felt, just that little bit easier. 

Simple Joys

It's dumber than sin but it's quite possibly the best thing that's happened to me so far this week:

I particularly like T-Rex and Kangaroo.   And no, I have no idea why they're drinking out of sippy cups, but it's brilliant.  

Maroon5 me on a desert island with Adam Levine please!

I developed my first rock star crush five years ago at a Foo Fighters concert in Tampa.  Before the concert I'd limited my crushes to pretty boys like Leonardo DiCaprio, Matthew Fox and Freddy Prinze Jr.  I blame private school. I went in to the concert a mediocre fan (at best) and left with a raging desire to jump the dirty, probably a little smelly, long haired gremlin who had just sung an acoustic version of Everlong.  Nothing quite like watching a man smoke a cigarette through a nostril right before killing Monkey Wrench to knock the private school out of the girl. 

Yes Please

Well shove over Dave Grohl, I have tired of how stubbornly you have remained happily married (because clearly it's your married status that makes you unattainable), and you've been replaced by the single talented new man of my dreams: Adam Levine. 

Two weeks ago, on an afternoon coffee run at work, my friend Christine was all: "hey, I have an extra ticket to Maroon 5 on April 1st, do you want to go?"  And I was all: "do bears poop in the woods?"  I make it a personal life policy to never miss out on concerts, especially when nice people invite you.

So my badass self said "eff it!" to work and stats class (and by "eff it" I mean that I requested the day off from work in advance and emailed my teacher ahead of time and apologized for missing class; there's only so much private school you can take out of the girl.)  Two words: worth. it.  We were crazy close to the main stage (thank you Christine!) and wicked close to the floating, mini-stage.

 

So here's the thing about Adam Levine, he's way less dirty than Dave Grohl (I know, but bear with me) but the guy has charisma just pouring out of him.  Apparently I'm a crazy commie, hippie, socialist-Marxist for having missed this before now but I'm a better late then never kind of girl.

Adam Levine's butt...because I can't help myself

I took several minutes to tear myself away from taking pictures of real-live-Adam-Levine booty, but when I did I realized that there was surprisingly little security between me and Mr. Lavine.  So little in fact that one good jump and I could have turned a visual, auditory treat into a much more hands on experience.  In my head I was all:

YOLO!!

Unfortunately, the same common sense of reality that tells us "only send a nudie pic if you're REALLY sure you don't want to run for public office" told me that however absent security seemed...they're sneaky mother fuckers who'd probably manage tackle and cuff my ass faster than a fat kid (me) can eat a doughnut.

I immediately regret that decision

So I did the mature thing, considered how getting arrested for assault could seriously derail my current life trajectory and decided that a little Adam Levine sweat probably wouldn't be worth it. Plus they'd probably make me wash my hands then it'd all have been for naught.   And so the list of things that by not doing in my early twenties, I've officially missed the boat for, gets one item longer.  The nose piercing and pink hair is probably for the best, not tackling Adam Levine? Le sigh.

Never the less, Maroon 5 (the whole band) is amazing live.  Neon Tree's opened and if nothing else, you should go just to see their drummer. She not only kills the drums but manages to sing at the same time.  It's one of the more impressive things I've seen in my concert going life, that girl is amazing. It' was a great night and it goes down as one more great memory for the books. :-)

Scars

A quote of the day donation from Mama K:

"It's a shallow life that doesn't give a person a few scars."

Garrison Keillor

 

Thanks Mama!