Phoning It In

Damn I'm Busy

 Hey guys! I've been super caught up with things elsewhere on webspace, and just haven't had much to talk about right now. We did hear from the landlord, and yes it was nothing at all. He just wanted to know if we were happy here, and to let us know that he wasn't raising the rent this year. The strange part was that in an effort to soothe my panic, Husband found us a new apartment to move to that's two houses down from us, and $300 less. So I think we're moving anyway. Weird, huh? The new apartment has a basement (it's actually more of a house than an apartment, really), and a yard that I can plant in, rather than growing all of my flowers in pots on the deck. Oh! It also has a FIREPLACE! Which means I can totally decorate properly for Christmas this year. FUCK YAH!
Snow falling softly outside of our sliding glass doors, while a fireplace burns merrily in our hearth. OMFG I love this idea already and it's still Spring!

So we'll be moving in June, which means I have a bunch of mad packing to do. Holy shit do I ever... it's only just hit me as I type this..
Sooooo, I might have another anxiety attack on the way. Fuck my life.

Nah, I'm kidding... fireplace.

Dieting... Like a Boss

 I weighed myself yesterday and I weighed.... are you ready?


I mean really ready? Because this is good.


Sure? You're ready now?


Okay....



I weigh 215lbs! I've lost 5lbs since I started this bullshit. And you know what, it has gotten easier. I'm using MyFitnessPal to track what I eat, and what exercise I do and it's starting to show. The other day I ordered a salad from McDonald's (shut up... It was my only option at that time. Unless I chose not to eat at all.) Before when I'd ordered the salads at fast food places, I'd eat it, and then still be hungry. But I got halfway through it and was uncomfortably full, so I just tossed the rest. And totally had guilt over it because you know there are starving kids out there who would have loved to have had that salad you thankless horrible person! Gah... Yes that actually went through my mind.
I totally should have been Catholic, I have a very well developed sense of guilt. I'd have fit in perfectly. I feel guilty for everything. Kill a spider? Guilt. Eat meat? Guilt. Squirt my cat with water for peeing in my plants? Guilt!
I'm totally rambling now. FOCUS!

So obviously this method of accountability is working for me, which is fantastic. I still need to get a treadmill, and I want one very badly because we're getting into the rainy part of the year here, and I don't want to lose any ground. I may just start jogging in place like a derpface with the blinds drawn so no one looks in and reports someone having a seizure in their apartment.

Copy & Paste!

So the rest of what follows is a re-post from my old blog. I stole the idea from Lauren, so if you hate it... well don't blame her because she's super adorable, and sweet. You can't hate her even if you try, and I don't know why you'd try.. you awful person. 

So, it has been a while since I've updated on here. But since very very few people are reading this, it's okay. :P Seven has fully recovered from her owie, and her claw has grown back in with no issues. There was some concern that it might curve into her paw when it grew back in, but no. It's perfectly normal.

The cats still steal our food, like tiny, fur-covered bandits. But there are added distractions now. Like birds. And fish. Oh yes, nothing is quite so amazing as the 50 gallon fish tank in our dining room. Especially Betty. Betty is a black moor goldfish. (Is she really a "gold"fish if she's black? Discuss.) And for some reason, Data and Seven are obsessed with her. Not that we don't have other fish in the tank mind you. But they only want to harass Betty.

When we first got the 50 gallon, Seven decided to throw herself into it. While it was full of water. I watched it happen, in slow motion. Time ground down slowly, like bullet-time, as I watched her put her tiny paws on the top, and heave herself up and over. Her little body slid over the lip, and into the water, where her head immediately dunked itself under the surface. I don't think she was expecting the water, for surely she'd have requested tiny water-wings if so. Her eyes bugged wide open and she flailed frantically for a mere half a second before surfacing and scrambling out of the tank of kitten doom. It seemed so much longer than it really was. I can still picture her face as she realised what had just happened. She blamed me for it too. I could tell in her eyes as she licked herself off. Why had I not warned her? Why had I not stopped her? I tried to explain that I would have, but it happened so fast... unfortunately I couldn't stop laughing long enough to make words.

Soon, we added an occupant to the tank, which was Betty. She must have thought that she'd won the fishy lotto, since she was the only occupant of the 50gal for a number of days. Seven and Data would both sit on the table in front of the tank, and watch her swim, like fans at the slooowest tennis match ever. Back and forth, back and forth. Eventually though, all good things end, and we moved Betty into her actual home, which was a 10gal "hospital tank". That's how she acquired her name btw. She's "Nurse Betty". Seven's obsession finds new heights with the move, while Data's shifts to the birds outside, as the weather has by this time warmed up some, and the birds have returned en masse to the feeder outside our window. (The fact that I bought peanuts for the chipmunks and squirrels may have also contributed...)

Here's Seven with Betty                                      

We added fish to the large tank, and everything was going swimmingly (hurr) until one day when I had the lid to Betty's tank off, to feed her. Seven had forgotten the very important lesson she'd learned while she was inside the water of the big tank. Namely that water is wet, and she doesn't like it when it's deep.

So once again, swimming cat.

Unfortunately, this time around, we had a minor casualty. Betty sustained an injury, and the water of the hospital tank was now really yucky with cat fur. So I had to put Betty in the larger tank to recover from her injury, which is the opposite of how that shit is supposed to work, for reasons I'm about to disclose.

Betty developed a serious infection in the wound, and contracted ich. Shortly thereafter, everyone else in our tank had it. It's like freeking herpes or something... jesus. It really spreads fast. The rainbows were just COVERED in it, and the pleco succumbed within days of infection. A quick eulogy and a burial at sea followed. (It was lovely, many kind words were spoken and tears shed. We had bad wine and lemon cake afterwards during the wake)

They're all fine now (except the plec, of course... though I suppose he's fine too now. In fishy heaven, or the vast nothingness of the tea-time of the soul) and once she was all healthy Betty showed her true colors.

She is a horrible, horrible vandal.

She methodically made a route around the tank, and chewed through all of the stems of the plants I had put in the tank. The real plants. No plastic things for my tank, no sir. She's eaten about $45 worth of plants at this point, I think. I'm not sure what to do about her now. I thought about trading her to the pet store I bought her at, in exchange for credit towards another fish, but Seven loves her so much. (Loves? Hates? Wants to eat?.. I don't know. We'll go with it.) So I'm considering putting her back in the 10gal, but then she'll be lonely. Am I putting too much thought into this? Probably.

In other news, Sean has a full time job as a bartender at a really awesome new restaurant. The downside of this was that Data was home alone, all day, for a few days. So last Sunday, he felt he needed to talk to me about this.

When Data "talks to me" about issues he has, it usually takes the form of peeing. Thankfully it's never on the carpets, or the walls like some male cats will do. But it's always very clear.

Like the last time he had an issue with me, he dragged a towel around the living room, until it was in front of his litter box. He then proceeded to pee all over the towel. When I tried to pick him up to stop him, he just looked at me and kept peeing.

"Do you see what I'm peeing mom? I'm peeing my anger."

Turns out I had forgotten to clean his litter box for a day or two. Unacceptable, mom. And he let me know it.

Well, he had issue with dad not being home, so while I was getting ready for work, he tried to pee in my potted palms. I caught him, and wrapped plastic over the tops, so he couldn't dig in the rocks. He watched me do this, and then when he was SURE I was paying attention, peed in his cat bed.

Not really sure what he was thinking, since it's HIS bed, but hell I'd rather he do that than pee all over mine!

It's better now, as Sean is going into work at around 4pm, and I'm home by 5:30, but he's watching us in case we shirk our duties to him again.

 Wrapping Up

If you guys are interested in fish as well as cats, I can do a post next time about the tank, and how it looks today. I really want to say "Leave a comment on what you'd like me to post about next" but my blog isn't big enough for that... 

Yet.

Till next time folks!