Truth Hurts

I picked Sega up and held her face close to mine last night before bed. This is the conversation that I had with my little kitten:

Me: Do you love me?
Sega: *blank stare*
Me: Okay, do you like me?
Sega: *blank stare*
Me: Um...do you tolerate me?
Sega: *blank stare*
Me: Are you planning to kill me?
Sega: *eagerly licks my nose as if to say You bet! and then bounces cheerfully away*

I suppose I should appreciate her honesty.


In other news, we currently have four cats living with us right now. We're catsitting for a friend while he's out of town for the week, and the poor girl is inexplicably injured (we didn't do it, my friend came home and found her limping yesterday). She's sad, misses her daddy (she spends her day curled up in one of his shirts), and is going to be furious when I have to stick her in the cat carrier and subject her to the vet's poking and prodding tonight. I really hope that I don't get bit, but I can't be too mad at her if I do; I'm a stranger to her, after all, and she's frightened and in pain.

I'm hoping to befriend the new cat sometime during the next week, though. I'll need all the protection I can get from my devious kitten and her nefarious plots.

Okay, I Surrender!

I'm giving up on this cycle. My temps don't indicate a thermal shift and my microscope also says that I have not ovulated. I'm really just getting tired of it all.

You see the look on Charlie's face? That is how I feel about this cycle.



In other news, I officially joined the curling league today. Dodgeball season ends in two weeks and I need something to keep myself occupied (and to make sure I leave the house and socialize with others!) until we finally catch an egg.

Now I'm off to tend to my pulled groin! (Note to self, stretch before curling.)

The Cute, You Cannot Resist It

Seriously, is this little lady beautiful or what?

Lazy Sunday

I somehow managed to sleep in until almost noon today. And now that I've been awake for a couple of hours, I kind of want to go back to sleep again. My accomplishments for today consist of:

• Eating Cheerios
• Playing Guitar Hero
• Listening to the Beatles
• Accidentally locking the kitten in the master bedroom for 40 minutes (She didn't mind, she merely used the opportunity to nap beneath the dresser)
  

Before I know it, Tuesday will be here and I'll be left wondering how in the world the weekend managed to end so quickly with so little to show for it.

This is pretty much me today, if I were a pair of lazy animals instead of a single lazy person:



How is everyone's holiday weekend going so far?

Back Home

I'm back! Our week at the beach was absolutely fantastic, and it just happened to be the longest that Marcus and I have ever had off together. Even though my parents were there, it was pretty much the closest thing to a honeymoon we've ever had; and to say that we needed it would be a grave understatement.

Our trip was off to an awkward start, thanks to the directions we got from Google being only mostly accurate. But we did get there, and for the next week we stayed up late watching bad TV, slept in every day, took naps in the afternoons, and (we did more than sleep, I promise) just finally relaxed. In addition to the sleep, there was boogie boarding, tandem bike riding, lots of frozen custard, mini golf, go-karts, and a trip to the water park.

I also rode my unicycle up and down the boardwalk many times, which was always good for a laugh. It's fun to show off one's skills every once in a while.

I know that I promised lots of pictures, but to honest, we were having too much fun to take any. I only snapped this one shot of the sand directly in front of our balcony:



I don't know who Frank is, but I'm guessing he's not much of a daredevil. Or at least that's what this anonymous beach goer would have me believe. And I've gotta say, the inconsistency of using the lowercase "r" while the rest of the message is in uppercase almost makes this message an art form...almost. The Grammar Banshee inside me weeps.

The best part about coming home is seeing the cats again and getting to cuddle with them on the couch. I practically ran from the car into the house to make sure they were okay, even though my brother had been checking the cats and the house periodically throughout the week. Charlie and Rocky had obviously missed us, while Sega (pictured below looking slightly less evil than usual) didn't seem to hate us any more than she generally does. As far as I'm concerned, that means that all is well.



Today I'll be lounging about, doing some laundry, and preparing myself mentally for the return to the office tomorrow morning. I don't have any more vacation time to use until our wedding anniversary in October, so it's going to be a long couple of months until then.

How was everyone else's week?

My Cats Obviously Hate Me

Last night, I fell asleep on the couch at 9pm. Apparently at the moment I lost consciousness, I ceased being a person and instead became part of the furniture, and thus there was no need to consider my comfort or lack thereof. So Charlie - all 15 pounds of him - was completely justified in leaping onto my stomach in his efforts to chase the kitten. And Sega (and all 4 of her little kitteny pounds) did not offend me when she used my sleeping face as a trampoline. And Rocky was free to whine and meow and chirp and sing his little attention-whoring heart out.

Despite all that, I actually slept pretty well, and I feel pretty good today.

I'm actually kind of surprised by the poll results so far. So far the human baby is winning by a landslide! And a lot more people are interested in regurgitating into a baby bird's mouth than I expected. We've still got six days left, so I guess that could change.

As for the True or False quiz, the best score so far is 4 out of 5. Can anyone else do better (without cheating!)?

Yay or Nay?

1. Pregnant women are recommended to forgo eating hot dogs.
2. The youngest mother on record was five years old.
3. Some women have experienced orgasm while giving birth.
4. A woman cannot get pregnant if she is breastfeeding.
5. Pregnant women should double their caloric intake.

And Now I Shall Tickle Your "Awwww" Bone

My cats are seriously the best cats that have ever catted the planet.

Today Is My Birthday

It's been my birthday all day and not a single one of my three selfish cats has wished me well. Harrumph!

Hellcat

We have adopted a new kitten. Her name is Sega, she is approximately 3 months old, and she was almost certainly born of the fiery depths of hell. This is no exaggeration. We didn't realize this when we first brought her home, but several clues and recent incidents have brought me to this conclusion about her nature.

1. She is actively trying to stop my husband and I from conceiving. My poor husband's precious cargo has been attacked more than once since she arrived on the scene. Some nights I've resorted to placing a teddy bear between his legs to act as a buffer while he sleeps.

2. She loves to torture our other cats. Or tries to, rather. You know that cliché scene in a cartoon when a little guy tries to beat up a big guy, but never even has a chance because all the BG has to do is set a hand on LG's head, easily keeping LG at arms-length, and even as LG swings and kicks for all he's worth, he never ever makes contact with BG? Yeah, it's kind of like that. She's fierce but she's tiny, and (for now, at least), most of their fights end up with the big cat looking bored and the little cat trapped under his paw looking furious.

3. She loves to torture me and my husband. Sega has attacked us in the middle of the night by biting our fingers and ears and doing that kicky thing to our heads and faces. My husband once complained that she actually started chewing on his eyelid in the middle of the night. Once I woke up to find her asleep on my face - I'm convinced that this was an effort to suffocate me, but she was unable to do the job properly with her tiny lightweight body. On more than one occasion I've fallen asleep in bed with the spray bottle in hand. For more evidence that she intends to do us harm, also see #1 above.

4. She has a very expressive face. By itself, this probably seems rather innocent. But have you ever seen a robot with a face designed to seem human? The loverbots from Artificial Intelligence spring to mind; their faces and expressions are just human enough to seem familiar, but inhuman enough to creep the ever-loving shit out of you (no offense to Jude Law). Sega's face is like that. I've never seen such an expressive animal, let alone a cat. Charlie has two different expressions and Rocky has exactly one. But I've witnessed a variety of near-human expressions flash across Sega's tiny face, and not only is it fascinating to watch, but it is almost certainly evil and a sign of the devil.

This is our boy Charlie's usual expression, known as Serene Keeper of the House:


This is Charlie's other expression, Love Me Forever:


This is Rocky's expression, Oblivious to Everything Around Him:


And this is Sega giving me the stink eye:


And shamelessly pilfering her brothers' food:


We don't have very many pictures of her yet (she rarely sits still), so I can't yet show you the whole kaleidoscope of evil, but I'm working on it.

There you have it. I am convinced that we have inadvertently welcomed Satan's Kitten into our loving home. I'm off to scoop her litter box* before she decides to slash my tires or leave a horse's head on my pillow.

*I'm not actually going to scoop her litter box. Potentially pregnant ladies are not supposed to do that.

Et Tu, Rocky?

I called Rocky and Charlie's caretakers last night just to check up on them and see how the boys are doing. She said that Charlie is totally adorable, cuddly, and has woken her up at 3 in the morning by massaging his claws into her face. That's par for the course for Charlie.

I also learned that Rocky, to my horror, has apparently come excitedly running to his temporary parents when they called his name on at least one occassion.

Do you know how many times in the four months we've had him that Rocky has come running to us when we call his name? None! How many times he's come sauntering smoothly over when we called his name? None! How many times he's even turned his head in our direction and acknowledged us in any way? You see where this is going, I'm sure.

In the span of two days, Rockstar has already shown more affection and obediance to his caretakers than he has ever shown to Marcus and me. I can either conclude that he actually does love somebody else more than me, or that he is going through separation anxiety and is clinging to anyone that gives him attention right now.

I know it makes me a bad person to secretly hope that it is the latter and not the former. So I won't admit to that, although I will admit to being jealous. Instead just let me close by saying a few cathartic words:

Rocky is a cheating harlot. There I said it.

An Uninvited Guest

It's been an eventful few days since my last update. In the course of that single weekend, I've had to evacuate my home, give away my kitties (temporarily, but my heart hurts just the same), and go back to living in a tiny room in my parents' house - only, instead of having the small space to myself, I have to share it with another full-grown human being (my husband, of course).

The reason? Mold. There is black mold growing in the basement bathroom, and our appointment to have it sampled and tested is not until Saturday. Since we have no way of knowing until then whether it is mold of the toxic variety, we are playing it safe, which means that my house will lie empty and cold for Christmas.

There are three things that upset me most about this situation. In no particular order, they are:

• Money. Mold remediation is not at all inexpensive.
• My cats. They are staying with a friend and I miss them terribly. A couple times I've mistaken the sound of the children in my mom's daycare downstairs to be the sound of Rocky chirping or meowing, before remembering that they aren't there. I've also got a rather immature fear that Rocky and Charlie are going to end up loving their caretakers more than they love me.
• My little passenger. I have no way of knowing how, if at all, the spores in my house could have affected her development. There just isn't any hard data out there on this sort of thing. I've found all sorts of terrifying anecdotes, but that's it.

The best I can hope for, as far as peace of mind goes, is that the mold is confirmed as something more harmless, rather than the nasty stuff. We'll see how it goes.