Showing posts with label kitties. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kitties. Show all posts

Friday, November 20, 2009

Warm Fuzzies

I'm sitting on my futon with a warm, fuzzy kitty on my left, and my warm, fuzzy husband on my right. We're being serenaded by a lovely British man wearing mismatched socks. His lovely wife, who just so happens to be my best friend and soul mate, pointed that out.

They're visiting from Michigan for Thanksgiving, and they're staying the night with us tonight. Yay!

Everything is warm and cozy, and smells like my hazelnut cream candle. It's sabbath, and I'm going to sleep SO WELL tonight.

Thanks to New Moon, I only got about 3 hours of sleep last night. I was afraid it wouldn't be (worth it), because I didn't really like the first movie so much. It was a lot corny. Thankfully, I was worried for nothing. This movie was waaaaaaay better. New director = can't wait for the next two movies.

Sweet dreams, jelly beans!

Thursday, January 22, 2009

A Furry Stress Reliever

Today has been an exceedingly hectic day, and I am in need of some relaxation. Seriously. Can I go get a pedicure? I've done that one time, and it was pretty calming. Well, until the soaking part was over and the chick started touching my feet, and scraping hide off.

Anyhow, I don't know what to do to unwind. It's after work hours, and I'm just waiting on a call to head out, but I'm seriously uptight at the moment. I wish my cat was here. I could rough his fur all up and force him to take a straightening bath. And he can't just go part of the way. He's in for the long haul. Which means he'd have to wash between his toes meticulously. Which is like a sedative to me for some reason.

It takes like fifteen minutes of him sprawling out his tootsies, cramming his tongue between them, and purring like tomorrow will not be happening. I know it has to taste bad, but the soothingness of it all must outweigh the grodiness(I'm pretty sure that's not a word, and if it were that wouldn't be how you'd spell it).

Did you know cats take comfort baths? I learned that on Cats 101 the other night. They do it to calm themselves. Just like a bubble bath and some candles. Only furrier and it leaves that hiney taste in your mouth. Ick.

I always thought cats were just little furry obsessive compulsive freaks. Guess not.

Wow. That just turned into a post entirely about kitty grooming habits. Unintentional, I assure you.

What do you do to wind down after a stressful day/week/existence?

Friday, December 19, 2008

Bunnies & Icicles


I love relationships. I know I probably sound like a ditz, but I am simply amazed by communication. The fact that you can tell a story and another person keeps pieces of it, and adds them to that box of you that they keep in their head astounds me. I just love it.

Maybe that's why I like blogging. I love to learn things about people. Just little things.

The only thing I love more than knowing someone well is knowing that they know me.

Now, if you leave this post today with one thing, I want it to be that I'm usually a pretty tough cookie. Emotionally I mean. I don't cry over a lot, and I certainly don't like to cry. You will never catch me watching a chick flick/tear jerker and sobbing with joy. No sir. I am an escapist, remember?

That being said. I cried over a pair of bunny socks this morning. No, Matt. Not a bunny in socks. Toe socks with bunnies on them.

I realize how lame that sounds, but it just happened. My supervisor gave me my Christmas gift today. An icicle ornament and bunny socks.

A while back she and I were discussing childhoods.

She told me a funny story that inspired my Christmas gift to her, and I told her about how I used to get in trouble for strange things as a child.

In the winter it was eating icicles off the car. Hey, I was five. I liked popsicles. The rest of the time it was something to do with my bunny eating something he shouldn't be. Like the Christmas lights!

So, I almost lost it over the icicle ornament, but managed to hold it together. Then I opened the bunny socks and that was it. I was done for. Fanning the tears trying to escape my eyes, I thanked her.

She beamed. Perfectly content with the fact that she'd brought me to tears with socks and a plastic ornament.

Should I Write A Book?

Yesterday I made a Facebook post in an attempt to deal with some obsessive thoughts I was having, thoughts I have often, that drag me down. ...