Yet More Confessions of an Otherwise (Sort of) Dedicated Blogger

Oh, man.

Two days this week and no blog posts? This is a capital offense, I know. But please, please, don’t be mad. I have a really good reason for it.

Ok, not that good a reason....

See? A _really_ good reason.

I want to make it up to you, though. I really mean it.

So I’d like to present to you the most badass man in the history of time:
The 80-year old guy who fought a bear, fell of a cliff, and is still alive.

Is that not enough of an apology? Ok, ok. How about fair warning that bugs are going to get way, way worse in the future?
Remote controlled cyborg cockroaches are a thing, and if PETA doesn’t stop them, NOTHING EVER WILL.

Ok, fine. Fine, Internet. I’ll pull out the big guns.
The cats behind cat memes, because I know you love cats, Internet. I pay attention to things you like because I care.

And here is a picture of a tiny happy rodent:

I do this for you

Click for source.

(I am clearly behind on blogging this week, and my little creativity-hiatus on Monday and Tuesday has me chomping at the bit to write. Thanks for being patient with me, guys-who-bother-to-read-this-blog. <3)

I Am Trying to Write a Blog Post While Working from Home*

Or: My Cat Doesn’t Want You to Read This

*While taking a totally legitimate work break. Smokers have smoke breaks. Bloggers have blog breaks. It’s an addiction, which is a disease, so it’s not my fault and I’m super entitled to it. Shut up.

Guys, this week, I really wanted to share a whole bunch of hilariously awful stories of the tragedies that are my romantic history. I have a lot of them, and they’re great fodder for doodles.

But this week, the Snowpocalypse has come to visit the Queen City.

That means I’m working from home.

Crap. It's weird, isn't it?

My cat wanders around purr-hum-meowing. That’s normal, right?

With my cat.

Like a tiny fuzzy ninja

She is an expert at sneaking into laps from under blankets.

Who is very clingy.

We suit each other so well

She’s also kind of shove-y and personal-space-invade-y.

And does not share attention well.


This is why my current project reads “wretcidnpwvnrub79843” in the middle of a sentence.

I have no idea how she got this way.

And the laptop says "i4e80t208wh"

Purr. Purr. Purr.

No clue at all.

I guess life is full of little mysteries like that.

My Cat Does Not Understand Going to Bed Early

Or: The Story of the Adorable Demon That Lives with Me

This weekend I was very busy and adventurous*, which resulted in a remarkable number of hijinks, but a very minimal amount of sleep.
*preening and flash-dancing because my blog got Freshly Pressed and that makes me so happy it was distracting.

So by the time Sunday night rolled around, it was time to throw on my onsie pajamas and hit the sack. At 8:00 o’clock at night. Because I am practicing for senior citizenship.**
**I just want to be really, really good at it already when the time comes. You know, already have all the early bird specials memorized at restaurants and be outraged by those meddlesome kids who won’t get off my lawn? I like to set attainable life goals.

They are so warm and so comfy and I love them so much.

Yes, I did perform my flash-dances in these pajamas.

My cat did not agree with this life choice.

This is the only stick figure cat I have ever drawn

I do not know how to draw stick figure cats.

So, at bedtime (still 8:00 o’clock), I scooped up my cat and carted her off to bed with me. Normal people allow their cats to explore and figure out sleeping space on their own. My cat prefers to be specially invited and then hand-carried to bed, or she will sulk on the floor all night.

She is like carrying a fuzzy sack of potatoes. I love her so much.

***Yes. This is what I call my cat. This is not her name.

I snuggled into bed with her at my feet, and started to fall into the blissful slumber of someone who has collectively managed to have less than eight hours of sleep in two and a half days.

At 8:15 p.m., my feline companion became concerned about whether or not I was alive. To express her concern and check my vital signs, she licked my ear, and then stuck her face into my face to check if I was breathing.****
****For those who are curious, cat-faces directly impair breathing.

Sleep is for the weak and the dead

I told you I do not know how to draw stick figure cats.

Once satisfied that I was clearly still alive – a fact established my hacking struggles to breathe around her affection – she decided it was time to go exploring. She quietly explored for a time, and then determined that my apartment was in need of redecoration.

Admit it. Your cat redecorates too

Because all things – most especially palettes full of wet paint – look better on the floor. Most especially beige carpet.

She put all her efforts into redecorating until I finally went and reorganized all of the things capable of being knocked over. This left her frustrated; clearly I was not appreciating all of her hard work.

By this time, it was 10:00 o’clock at night. A strange peace fell over the house as she fell into a sulk and vanished from my sleeping space.

And then, at 11:47 p.m., she began to sing the song of her people.

I mean, this isn't even cute anymore

I’m so serious. Drawing stick figure cats is something I hope to never do again. I wonder if there are specific art classes for this.

In the bathtub. For optimal echoing. Of course.

This continued, despite repeated interruptions by me (picking her up and putting her in bed; staying up and petting her; playing with her with the laser pointer; locking the &%^$! bathroom so tub singing was impossible; unlocking the #%$!@ bathroom so she would stop crying about the closed door) until about 2:13 in the morning.

When I woke up for work at 6:15 this morning, she was fast asleep, on the bed at my feet, purring happily.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP - you can hear it in your head, can't you?

Yes. I still own an alarm clock that beeps at 100,000,000 decibels. It’s the only one I have not broken.

She protested with annoyance when I moved and woke her up.

And that is why I am never going to bed early again.

Life Lesson: Literally Everyone Likes to Take Selfies

Life Lesson 7,250: Do not, under any circumstances, leave technology unattended in the presence of pets.

Look, guys. I know about half the Internet twitches with outrage at the title of this blog post. I questioned it myself*. But then I learned this lesson for real.

*No I didn’t. All my best pictures are selfies because I would never, ever let anyone else take eighteen pictures of me in a dinosaur costume. I do have SOME pride, people.

The hard way.

I want to show you something. And it may shock you.

My phone was covered in cat drool.

“Oh, hai Internet. I can haz selfie skills.”

This is the selfie my cat managed to take of herself. Because, you know, clearly I wasn’t taking enough pictures of her. Animals don’t even need us anymore. It’s like Animal Farm, but with more technology, and probably called Animal Myspace.

We can’t let that happen. It’s just awkward for everyone.

So it’s really important to know one thing: if you leave your phone on the couch, your cat will learn to take pictures of herself using her face.

I can’t even add a completely different thought at the end of this blog post. I’m too shocked, horrified, and concerned for the future of us all.