I don’t think she looks like a monkey.

Why is it that the cat who needs the brushing hates it and the cat who doesn’t need brushing can’t get enough of it?

I have scratches up and down my arms from my attempts to get the mats out of my senior cat’s fur. I took action after a delivery guy said that Storm “has a spiky look going on.” My cat is not badass, he’s just old and sucks at grooming himself.

He still looks kind of spiky though.

Cat Connection Rescue Network, Inc.

 17870 Newhope St., Suite 104-138

Fountain Valley, CA 92708

(Note: This is a P. O. box, not an adoption center/kennel facility.)

 Contact: Courtney Howe

 714-815-4300

 catconnectionrescuenetwork@gmail.com

They will have kitties for adoption (if weather permits).

Kitty Cup

Originally uploaded by DiemNoir

So last Saturday night was my 25th birthday (11/21) and I went to Benihana with a few friends and I got a free meal. Along with my meal, I paid $7 (with free refills) for this lovely kitty shaped mug. It’s weird, quirky and a novelty … I HAD to have it. It’s not your conventional mug because you have to stick a straw in the little hole in his neck … and yes, it looks like a tracheostomy tube … that you’re drinking from. How sick is that?

While it’s not Hello Kitty, I’ve come to enjoy this weird looking mug, cup, whatever you want to call it. Gotta looooove China!

Thank you Fletcher and Elliott for not making dooty all over the house. I am greatly appreciative of your mad litter box skillz.

Thank you amazing job for giving me the chance to drink free pop, enjoy twice a week catered lunches, and design interesting things on a daily basis.

Thank you Josh for making me dinner at least three times a week, when you know I’ve had a long day and need time to unwind.

Thank you Aunt Tina for chatting with me at work, and providing the necessary distractions to get me through my day. You are a little piece of home that I get to keep with me every day.

Thank you Tazo for making delicious and therapeutic teas. I had a fever last night, but today I feel like skydiving.

Thank you inventor of Christmas lights. I can’t be sad when I am looking at the twinkly glow of a strand of Christmas lights.

Thank you to Ali Babba for booking a plane ticket to come out and see me in January. You are the cheese to my macaroni.

Thank you house on the corner by the stop sign I stop at on my way home from work. You were the first house I’ve seen decked out with Christmas lights and it made me smile.

Thank you extra large gas tank in my car. I only have to fill up once every two and a half weeks. I find this to be incredibly awesome, given my daily commute of an hour total.

Thank you AmyK for always being a great pen/chat/phone pal. Not only have you been a great friend to me, but you have branched off as a friend of the family. We love you!!!

Thank you Katie’s Kitchen for putting hashbrowns on your ultimate breakfast burrito. This is a genius idea which I will gladly support.

Thank you Country Club Plaza for outlining every building in holiday lights. This is something I have never seen before, and it will make for great memories I can share with my youngins some day.

Thank you Rachel for participating in New Years Eve plans with me. This will be the most epic of New Years, and it’s always good to have good company when my boyfriend is urinating on the Gateway Arch, intoxicated.

Thank you Momma for decorating the spare bedroom for me and Josh. It was the only room you decided to decorate before Thanksgiving, and I know you did it because of how much I love Christmas!!!

Thank you to the CEO of our company who decided to let all of us have off on Friday. Now I don’t have to use a PTO day for that

Thank you to my financial status for giving me the means to go back home to be with my family. I am grateful every day for the opportunities I have and I am hoping to share it with everyone in my family this Christmas.

Thank you Marianne for using an obscene amount of characters to express happiness. You’re the only person I can express true excitement with, via tapping every key on my keypad. fdsjklfjdsanasfndfns!!!!!!!!

Thank you Mother Nature for not having it rain every night on my commute home. It was getting a bit difficult to see the lines on the freeway, and I know you don’t want me to bump into anyone.

Thank you to my family for cramming all of their faces on to Aunt Tina’s web cam a couple of weeks ago. I felt so close to everyone, despite being so far. And I got a great view of my sister’s nostrils, thanks to the wonders of technology.

I suppose I’ve rifted off enough things to let all of you know what I am thankful for. And let me tell you, writing off a list like this is something I think we all should do at least once a week. It’s great to put things into perspective, and just be positive about life

Love you all, and Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Chapter 1:

Perhaps it’s because the highlight of his day is when Dear & Darling return home so he can bask in their attention as though it were the sunlight that leaks through the leaves, then the window panes, to the floor that so pains me. It may also be that his timeline revolves around the receiving of food rather than the endless continuation of fluxuation between day & night. What it truly is that so disturbs me about Hugo, I cannot precisely pinpoint, but there certainly is something, & it’s really quite unnatural. I love the little fellow, I do, & I’ll manage to get over it in time, I’m sure. It’s just that my countenance requires a bit more privacy & distance from his narrow-minded view, & this tiny flat hardly offers any one-cat havens.

Shall I explain a bit more? Hugo is new. Well, newer than I, and there seems always to be a period of adjustment when things in life change as they have. According to the day cycles, as far as I’ve managed to track, I’ve been here with Dear & Darling, my people, for a little longer than two seasons. When they rescued me it was cold. The ground was made of tiny ice crystals that matched my stinging paws & emanated a chill throughout my body that was wholly unmanageable. Anything before that day remains unknown even to me. I was young, and all I can assume is that the life I lived before that day was entirely unlike the one that I have come to know now.

Hugo’s presence bore itself in quite a different way. He came home with Dear & Darling during the hot sticky months of summer when I passed the time primarily by laying beneath the tub, whose feet match my own, on the cool tile floor. This being my favoured spot for napping, it was here that I unwittingly enjoyed my last moments of solitude. The tap…tap…tap of water splatting into the porcelain sink offered a kind & lazy metronome for the melodic contemplations I concocted while drifting off to sleep, & there was a warm sweep of air from the window that swooped under the tub to become my breath.

My people had been gone for three days & two nights, so I was rather tickled when my ears perked up at the sound of their approach. I heard an excited purr from Dear’s lips, & the jingle that precedes the opening of our main door. But before Darling swung the door open, I heard him speak back to Dear in their own words, which I do not readily understand. There was a pause, a response, then Darling entered cautiously. Even one without as keen senses as I, would have noticed a strange air about him. There had certainly been some sort of a change in our situation & that, perhaps, is what merited such a trip, as well as, upon their return, an unusual greeting such as this. After their normal outings, Dear & Darling will return home laughing, reach down to me & excitedly rub without circumspection. Today was different. He bent down, but more slowly, & as Dear waited patiently outside. I immediately smelled someone new on him…before his hand even landed upon my back.

I suppose Dear was waiting until she thought I was ready, & could I speak their language, I would have told her honestly that I knew what was coming, so she could present him at any time. Upon her eventual entrance, I was indeed a bit wary (we need not tell them of this). I could tell right away that the little one didn’t care for other furries like myself, that he instead preferred the company of people. He was curled in a tight little ball, with wide eyes, right in the nook where Dear’s neck & shoulder meet. Her hand was stabilizing him there.

Although I was unsure at first, our brotherhood blossomed quite well, & I found a fondness for Hugo brightening within me. For the first time, I was never alone. I could now bat a ball, & have it returned without an “accidental” nudge from my own paw & a little imagination. I had a playing partner. A napping partner, & most annoyingly, I came to find, an eating partner. Previously, I had been in the habit of leaving my food in the dish, & snacking periodically throughout the day & night. Upon the arrival of our new friend, however, leaving food about was no longer an option unless I wished to forfeit my fare. These are just the type of adjustments one must make when accepting to have a new companion afoot.

And as I said before…I was never alone. While this is often a comforting thought, it also means that I could no longer count on having that spot on cushion at the back of the couch (the one right where the wall hits, & the target for the sun that shines through the window) all for myself. There is no guarantee, in fact, of having anything to myself. Hugo is a creature who thrives on affection as most do on food, water, & sleep. Yes, I did only just finish telling you of his exceptional appetite for food, but it is nothing, nothing, compared to his yearning for love. It’s almost as if he forgets that he’s loved if a minute has passed without a pet or a rub. Although Dear & Darling seem not to mind this little matter, it is I who finds myself stuck in our quarters all day long with him while they escape into the out of doors. Or, had I half a mind to disobey their wishes, I might also take a slight vacation from this rather banal existence, & find out what they do all day while we’re here together. Were there not a language barrier to consider, I’d ask them straight away if they minded carrying him along for the day – just one day. ‘Twould be so pleasant to engage in my old individual traditions.

And as I sit here now, upon my most favoured perch, regarding little Hugo (who is currently rubbing incessantly at Darling’s foot while he reclines in front of his picture box) I can all but drift off to sleep with the hope that one day he might recognize the opportunity that this great world must have… somewhere out there. He’s still so very young – only a season old — & for that matter, I’m still so young myself. There is perhaps an adventurer to be born from him yet.

As has been told in previous tales, my girlfriend and I have two female cats. Cat #1 has been around since 2005, and Cat #2 came on the scene a year or so later. They lived in small apartments together and even survived several moves to new homes without killing each other. They weren’t the types of felines that you see on the sickeningly adorable calendars that cuddle together as they sleep. It was more of a sleep with one eye open relationship that they shared. Four months ago they were split apart when my girlfriend moved to her own apartment in order to be closer to her job, taking Cat #2 with her. Cat #1 stayed with me, and suddenly they were each happier than they’d been in years. We often wondered and discussed what would happen if they ever had to live under the same roof again.

Yesterday, they were reunited.
Today, the world is still reeling from this catastrophe.

Just eight hours ago my girlfriend got on a plane to go to Germany for her job and I had volunteered to take care of Cat #2 in my home while she was away. Moments after this reunification took place I knew that it was in my best interest to keep a diary for the next week in order to detail the carnage.

DAY ONE – Sunday

Today, Cat #2 was brought over in the typical pet taxi fashion. I had just experienced a forty-five minute car ride with her continuously hollering off beat to the music that was playing so I was ready for some peace and quiet. I didn’t make it more than two feet in the door of my apartment when the creatures made eye contact with one another. Cat #1 began to hiss and showed fangs that up until now, I had thought only existed in vampire movies. The cat carrier began to shake violently as though a wounded rhinoceros was being held captive within. When the carrier was opened, Cat #2 bolted from her plastic prison while Cat #1 was immediately locked away in the bedroom for the season. I headed out the apartment door to get the remaining luggage from the car and Cat #2 bolted out behind me, and decided to head for the hills. She ran towards the parking lot, but due to excess body fat and a full fur coat, paired with the pressures of a rather unintelligent animal experiencing sheer panic and terror, she didn’t make it far before realizing that she had no idea where she was going in the first place. Thank goodness cats don’t have GPS devices or she may have made it all the way to Reno before I caught up with her.

The rest of the day was spent watching the two cats throw icy glares back and forth while listening to a series of guttural growling, hissing, and spitting. It was a lot like watching teenage girls interact during my high school years. Cat #1 didn’t sleep in the bed that night as usual. She stayed stationed on the computer desk, fully alert and ready to protect her home from the intruder. I assume that she was expecting some sort of sneak attack that never came. To make up for this, she took out her aggression on my Venetian window blinds. May they rest in peace.

DAY TWO – Monday

I awoke this morning to the dulcet tones of two felines attempting to rip the hides off of each other. My girlfriend slept soundly through this racket while I risked life and limb to separate the animals. I crept quietly into the bathroom to get ready for the trip to the airport and Cat #1 entered behind me, completing her usual morning routine of getting in my way. Without warning, Cat #2 also wandered in to join the party. Suddenly realizing that they were mere inches from one another, both cats jumped in shock and attempted to turn themselves inside out. Cat #2 fled the room while Cat #1 fled into a wall. Eventually we headed to the airport and the whole trip I silently prayed that I would not return to the apartment to find a cat corpse. I didn’t think I had it in me to host a cat funeral before the day was over.

During my lunch break I went home only to find cat vomit all over the floor with the five o’clock news playing in the background. I had left the television on in an attempt to distract them from trying to murder each other, hoping that the mundane daytime television would put them to sleep like it always does with me. While cleaning up the mess, I wondered what had caused the illness. Part of me figured that Cat #1 was so stressed out by the invader that she couldn’t keep her food down while another part of me suspected that maybe the Tyra Banks show had come on the television while I was away.

Upon returning home from work, it was another night of scowling and hissing on their part while I attempted to decompress for the day. I tried brushing Cat #1 to bring her stress levels down a bit, but the more I caressed her, the angrier she appeared to get. I quickly gave up on that mission and headed into another room. On my way out, the brush clattered to floor behind me. I wondered if maybe Cat #1 had thrown it at me as payback for inconveniencing her usual routine of sleeping and shedding all over my clothes. Even if she had tossed it, I probably just would have been impressed since she doesn’t have thumbs.

DAY THREE – Tuesday

Imagine my delight when I woke this morning to the sound of my alarm clocking instead of the howls of feral felines. I felt refreshed and hoped that whatever had cat drama had existed the night prior had been put solved in a civil manner that involved a lot of licking. I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom for a shower. Like usual, I pulled open the cupboard below the sink to grab a towel and was greeted with a flurry of claws and spittle as Cat #1 lunged towards my face. At some point during the night, she had created herself a bunker within the cabinet in order to hide from the intruder cat. Having clearly activated the defense system that she had put into place, I reflexively slammed the door closed and heard the thump of her body smacking into the wooden barrier that now stood between us.

Shower complete, I headed into the kitchen for some coffee. Cat #2 sat nonchalantly on the couch. She glanced over at me and gave a look as if to say “when is that Cat in the cabinet just going to get over it?” I silently commiserated with her while heading out the door to work.

Upon my return home tonight I found the floor covered in a fluffy gray substance that looked an awful lot like cat hair, but I’m not one to jump to conclusions. Cat #1 is mostly gray in color and the sheer amount of fluff that now covered the living room floor led me to consider the possibility that she had recently exploded in that general area. After a quick walk around and finding the cats hiding out on polar opposite sides of the apartment I returned to the living area to ponder today’s mess.

I sat down on the couch to think a moment and soon realized that what I was staring at weren’t actually the remains of an animal or the scene of a recent brawl, but rather the remains of the throw pillow that would normally be situated beside me. I began to wonder the costs I would incur from having to eventually replace the majority of my household items. Seeing the mangled mass of fabric and stuffing also made me fear for what they might do to me in my sleep.

DAY FOUR – Wednesday

This morning was a peaceful one. Due to the peacefulness I experience upon waking, I suspected that the civil unrest might have ended. I only thought this way because it was the first time that I had been awake for more than thirty seconds without a feline making an attempt on my life. Cat #2 was noisily bathing herself on the kitchen floor while Cat #1 was once again hidden away in her cabinet bunker, possibly building a small nuclear arsenal.

When I arrived home from work, I found that Cat #1 had relocated and was now sitting atop the refrigerator glaring across the desolate plane that is my apartment. Her eyes met mine and shared a look that told me she was now staging a sit-in until the interloper was forced to leave. I attempted to give her a return look that would explain that sitting very still in one place is pretty much her normal day-to-day activity and thus I couldn’t take her threat seriously. She never moved, so I’m not sure if the message got across, but then again, how would ever I know?

DAY FIVE – Thursday

The events of this morning led me to believe that perhaps the cats had finally settled their differences and had bonded together to fight the common enemy holding them captive: me. At some point during their late night scheming session, it was decided that some sort of chemical warfare was the best way to combat me.

Both cats have made a hobby out of heavily shedding their fur. They shed when they’re hungry, they shed when they’re bored, and they shed whenever they are within radius of whatever I am eating or drinking. I hadn’t been awake for five minutes when I realized that both the entire bed and myself were covered in a pelt of cat hair. This fluffy yet durable substance acted like a primitive net, making it difficult for me to get out of the bed.

After escaping their trap before they could do horrible, four-toed deeds to me, I noticed that the cat dander in the air was downright palpable. With every breath, I inhaled more of their bio-weapon and soon I was down on my hands and knees gasping for air. I was able to crawl over to the air purifier in the corner and switched it on, cranking it up to the highest setting. I then did what any other allergy sufferer would do and tore off the filter apparatus on the back and attempted to stick my head inside of it in hopes that it would suck the tiny spore attackers from my body. In the minutes following the vacuuming of my lungs I went to work pulling individual cat hairs from my nose and mouth region. What I removed from my nasal cavity alone created a furry ball of hair roughly the size of another housecat.

I moved towards the porch door in an attempt to flee to fresher air not noticing the minefield of feline excrement that paved the way. After one squishy step I realized that they had bested me yet again and it was becoming apparent that they had the upper hand in this war. I fled toward the shower to cleanse myself of the defeat and began to barricade the bathroom door behind me with random toiletries. It appeared that I was no longer the master of the house.

DAY SIX – Friday

As quick as they were to lash out at one another, they were even quicker to bond together when one of them had the epiphany that if they both meowed simultaneously then their food bowls would fill up twice as fast. This synchronized hollering also worked to get them fresh water, treats, a clean litter box, and table scraps. When I disappointed them they were quick to squeal and scratch and bite. The only way to soothe the savages was to brush them, however they were not happy with the fact that I only owned one grooming tool. This got me a set of claw marks on my forearm. As the racket went on, following me around the apartment I wore myself out attempting to please them. It was becoming increasingly obvious that these cats now owned my soul.

DAY SEVEN – Saturday

After a sleepless night full of meowing and thunderous purring I decided that the best way to deal with the cats was simply to not be at home. I looked for any reason to be away from my apartment. After inviting myself to my best friends’ nieces birthday for some cake and games (I’d never met that side of the family before) and becoming a third wheel on another friends first date to catch a movie (he probably won’t be seeing her again), I began to tire and soon returned to my apartment to find my entertainment center slightly askew, the ceiling high bookcase knocked over, and the contents of both cats stomachs greeting me. I realized that my girlfriend’s flight was about to come in, so as quickly as I’d arrived, I took off for the airport hoping that one cat might figure out how to turn on the gas stove and another might figure out how to light a match, and the problem might just kind of take care of itself.

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That’s priceless…

Kara says:

So I got into a car accident today. Beat that on your excitement meter.

Amanda says:

I got 70% off of my perfume.
A fucking car accident?

Kara says:

hahaha

Amanda says:

Share bear’s car?

Kara says:

no, Joey was driving thank god, his car took it from behind on the on ramp.

So I got him to pull over, and the lady that rear ended us pulled in too
I jumped out

Amanda says:

So you got rear ended?
Where?

Kara says:

she gets out…and asks if there is any damage, I said nope… and she said oh I`m so sorry, and I told her calmly “fucking pay attention“ then I walked back to the car and continued on our journey to the gym.
On the on-ramp to get to the Southside

Amanda says:

You told off a senior citizen
how does that make you feel?

Kara says:

She wasn`t a senior citizen.
She was maybe 50.

Amanda says:

Well you escaped, this is all that matters.
And you had time for cardio

Kara says:

And it made me feel great, for everyone’s safety if you can`t pay attention, then you shouldn`t be driving

Amanda says:

Sounds like a good day.
Umm need I remind you of our drives?

Kara says:

Yes…mega attention
not a bad thing

Amanda says:

ha.

Kara says:

I never smashed into anyone
hahaha

Amanda says:

I’m trying to think of interesting things. Okay, I do have: “illogical things that piss me off #173948723″
Here’s the deal

Kara says:

mmhhmm

Amanda says:

Putting your jacket up over your nose and mouth will not actually protect you from invisible swine on the bus. Why? Because–it’s a fucking jacket and not a surgical mask and your grubby hand you used to put it over your face with was just on the rail, idiot
I’m so sick of swine. Not with. Of.
ok.

Kara says:

I think it’s all overrated… survival of the fittest.
hahaha

Amanda says:

And a BMO bank teller gave me the eyes today when I ordered rent cheques and I noticed she removed all of her piercings and I wondered if this is bank policy

Kara says:

I`m sure it is. Policy of any kind makes me nervous… if you are a flight attendant… no you may not have a messy bun in your hair.

Amanda says:

seriously, for turbulence?

Kara says:

I don`t get it…piercings and messy buns aren`t going to hurt anyone

Amanda says:

gravity likes shapely buns

Kara says:

no… because it looks unprofessional?… it has to be smooth and pretty

Amanda says:

I was kidding.

Kara says:

manicured.
hahaha

Amanda says:

sick.

Kara says:

it is sick

Amanda says:

Since when does metal affect your ability to speak or smile or wait on people

Kara says:

I`d be fucked… I have a mess of hair and I can`t use a curling iron
Well… I have a story about that.
I got my tongue pierced the day before I had to preach.
I sounded funny.

Amanda says:

I love that you were a preacher.
you sounded like you liked pussy

Kara says:
 hahaha

Amanda says:
What was the best part of spreading God’s word?

Kara says:

The hypocrisy.
that was the best part. The best part of preaching was being up higher than everyone else and telling them they are bad people.

Amanda says:

hahaha

Kara says:

meanwhile… back at bible college… I was a hot mess.
hahaha

Amanda says:

Prop 8 is going to the high court
I believe in January
woot.
Speaking of hot messes….you loving the dating website?

Kara says:

Good. America is still America though, they will always struggle with progressive issues. I`m still not convinced on POF.
hahaha
I might meet a few on the trip to Moncton.
We`ll see.
But… Moncton… that makes me nervous on its own

Amanda says:

One more question
the word ‘titties’ turn off, no?

Kara says:

titties…. hmmm depending on who its coming from.
slightly high pitched `TITTIES` like kitties…. is fine.

Amanda says:

even if someone is smoking hot…I think titties sounds like bad porn

Kara says:

but look at her titties… could be trashy.

Amanda says:

I think it’s worse when it’s nonchalant.

Kara says:

Agreed.
What’s a better word.. how do we phase out titties.

Amanda says:

tits

Kara says:

is that better though?

Amanda says:

remove the tie
jugs
headlights
birthday cakes

Kara says:
 Dirty pillows… I saw that on Carrie

Amanda says:

breasts are too maternal
sick

Kara says:

boobs

Amanda says:

bits

Kara says:

boobs cracks me up.
boobies…

Amanda says:

kibbles and bits

Kara says:

hahaha
melons.

Amanda says:

alright I’m out of here. Keep your tits, er, head up. See you tomorrow

Thanks to Mae!

Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me!

I made it a whole year. Please post your hearty congratulations and your dreams for The Czech of the future below.

Also, in honor of my blogiversary, I decided to do a little self photoshoot. See if you like the results:

And now here is my gift to YOU!

H/t to Shenanigans!

SO many adorable things in my life today!

Two cats (I was told neither of them go near people – one is pseudo feral) were loving my lavished attention this afternoon … so sweet, lovable (exactly what I need a lot of the time – something to appreciate my love) …

And then! Two puppies (I don’t even really like dogs that much) were doing the whole i’m-gonna-pretend-to-be-scared-and-then-try-eat-this-leaf-and-your-hand-at-the-same-time thing. Adorable; a black labrador and a border collie.

And when I got to my little house, ‘my’ other cat came looking for me! He heard me come back and ran inside to come find me

Hey? Oh hello Pill. What? Oh. Yes collie is a funny word