Showing posts with label Amelia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amelia. Show all posts

Friday, March 21, 2008

No One Memed Me

So, I'm totally obsessed with the blogging world now. Which is funny because, when blogs first started becoming a "thing", I thought they were the LAMEST thing EVER. I NEVER thought I'd be writing one, let alone reading the blogs of strangers. But I totally do it and I totally love it.

People In The Sun is one of my faves, and a few weeks ago, he memed the world in this post. And, since I'm stupidly bored at work today, I thought I'd take on his challenge.

(Oh, just in case you don't know what a meme is, and don't feel bad because I had to look it up myself, a meme is like a chain letter game, like the emails you get that say "send to 7 other friends..." This one is about 7 different things that you most likely do not know about the person writing. And like People In The Sun, I'm not going to challenge 7 specific people, but I WILL collectively challenge the universe!)

Ready? Go.

1. I'm afraid of monsters. Seriously. I'm terrified of the dark and I ALWAYS check for monsters wherever I think they might be hiding. The shower, closets, behind curtains, under the bed ... On a really bad day, I think they could hide in the most impossible places and I find myself checking in the oven and in cupboards and whatnot. God only knows what I'd do if I actually FOUND a monster one day. Probably stab it with a pencil* or something. And you know what really freaks me out about having kids? I just KNOW that the first time Frosty Jr. comes crying to me that there's a monster in her closet, I will absolutely LOSE my shit. No way can I handle that kind of crap. No way.

2. Other people coughing REALLY freaks me out. Really really really freaks me out. I HATE it when people cough without covering their mouths. It makes me want to throw up. And I hate it almost as much when they cough all over their hands, because you KNOW they're just gonna go touch something I have to touch, so they might as well have just coughed all over everything. I get so freaked out that I think I can actually SEE their germs crawling around all over the place. The only acceptable thing is to cough into a tissue, or at the very least, into ones elbow. Ones elbow does not touch the keyboard I have to touch, or the door knob I have to touch, or the support-pole-thingy on the subway that I have to touch. Which leads me to.....

3. I'm terrified of germs. I can't stand touching stair rails or doorknobs, or soap dispensers, or anything that is touched by the general public. I think the general public is generally disgusting. I'm afraid of my shoe laces and the bottoms of my shoes. I'm afraid of the ground because I believe it is crawling with fecal germs from the bottoms of shoes that walked on the floors of public restrooms and dirty sidewalks. I think a toilet seat is one of the grossest things in the entire world. And yet, somehow, I'm able to completely turn off that part of my brain whenever it is convenient for me. I LOVE it when my dogs, who happen to enjoy eating poo, lick my face. I will happily lay belly down on the filthy sidewalk if it means getting a really good photo of a dead thing. I'd rather let my bathroom turn green with mould than actually clean it. And I'd rather have filthy, germy hands than use that hand sanitizer crap because I'd rather have hands full of live germs than hands full of the corpses of dead germs. Because I just think that is grosser.

4. It drives me crrrraaaaazy when people are early. I think it's rude and inconsiderate. I'm not talking about for appointments or anything. For appointments, like a job interview or something, being five minutes early is appropriate. I'm talking about social engagements. If I've invited you over at 7 p.m. and you knock on my door at 6:45, I officially HATE you.

5. It is physically painful to wake up in the morning. Probably because I never get enough sleep. Because I hate going to bed. I dread it. No matter how tired I am, I just do not want to go. But once I'm IN bed, almost nothing can pull me out of it. My alarm will go off twenty times over a two hour period and I won't budge. Though, Poompy and a fresh cup of coffee usually do the trick. I usually get up for that. I heart Poompy.

6. My absolute favoritest favoritest favoritest FAVORITEST thing to do in my free time is to pull out the couch bed, pile it with pillows and blankets from my bed, curl up with Poompy and the beasts and watch hours upon hours of Netflix DVD's. Gawd how I love that. And Poompy and the beasts are all the most fantastic cuddlers in the world. Seriously. Poompy lays down first and I curl up into his side with my face on his chest. Then Theo squeezes in between us and buries his nose under my chin. Then Valentine lays down on top of Theo and pushes her nose in the little space between my face and Poompy's chest. Then Toby squeezes himself into whatever space is left up against my belly. And if we're really really lucky, even Amelia will come and curl up on our feet. Oh, it makes my heart swell just thinking of it. I live in the most exciting city in the U.S. and all I want to do is curl up in my tiny nest with my tiny family. It's just so heavenly.

7. I'm going to be famous. And by 'famous', I mean I am going to be a highly respected, highly paid, award winning actor. I know it, deep deep down inside my soul, I am absolutely SURE that that is who I am: a highly respected, highly paid, award winning actor. I just happen to be stuck in the body of a starving, non-working actor, but that is really just temporary. For reals.









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*I used to have a roommate who kept very different hours than me. One night I woke up around 1 a.m. and heard something shuffling around in the living room. I knew it was a monster come to kill me. I just KNEW it. I lay in bed, sweating furiously, shaking under the covers, barely able to breathe, trying desperately to figure out how to protect myself. I scanned my brain for every possible weapon-like-object in my bedroom. The only thing I could come up with was a pencil. I thought that at least, by sticking the pencil in the monsters eye socket, throat or even his knee-pit, I might buy myself some time. So I creeped out of bed, got my pencil, and stealthily made my way out of my bedroom. I tip-toed into the living room, pencil poised for stabbing, and found my roommate just sitting on the couch, goofing around on his computer. He looks up at me, my face white with terror, arm poised above my head, pencil ready to go and says, "What the HELL are you doing?" Uh...... I thought you were a monster?

Saturday, March 08, 2008

Top 5 Reasons Why Cats Are Awesome

1. They are decorative


2. They give themselves manicures



3. They add pizazz to boring furniture


4. They leave you presents "just because"


And #5 ....

5. They teach you lessons about NOT leaving your brand-new iPod headphones lying around


psssst! you can click on any of those pics if you wanna see em bigger, k? K.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

We Reap What We Sow

Poompy and I come home from an evening out with friends and were looking forward to curling up and doing married people things, but oh no. Not tonight. Because, see, we have four animals. Four. We open the front door and are greeted by the following scene:

The Chiremlin feasting on a pile of litter-caked cat poo, Theo lapping up a puddle of what could only be cat-poo-vomit released unto the carpet thanks to the Chiremlin, Toby cleaning out our toaster oven with his tongue, and Amelia hacking up a hairball onto our clean but not yet put away laundry.

Remind me again why we have four animals?

Saturday, June 16, 2007

A particularly bad day.

We lost a cat today. M called me at work, freaking out because Amelia had apparently slipped out the front door when one of us left this morning. Let me tell you, spending your afternoon making LOST CAT posters is really bad for the psyche. 

It started to pour when I left work today and despite the rain, I walked slowly because I knew I was going home to a home that was a little less homey since there would be no Amelia. I stopped in a Duane Reade to buy some tape, my bag full of LOST CAT posters clutched to my chest, and while I'm in line waiting to pay this sappy song comes on and because I'm already emotional, I start ugly-crying in the middle of the store. I get myself calmed down just in time to make my purchase, but I'm pretty sure I look upset. Doesn't matter to the girl at the counter though. She is a COMPLETE BALL LICKER as she rings me up. What is it with service people in this city? I still don't get it. As I'm walking home the thunder and lightening starts and the wind blows my umbrella inside out and my little summer dress is getting soaked and so is the bag with the LOST CAT fliers and I can barely walk because believe it or not it is really hard to walk in the rain in flip flops, and the whole time I'm beating myself up about how I don't deserve to have pets and only an idiot asshole loser would lose her cat and Amelia deserves a better life than the one I've given her, but now she's probably smushed on the side of the road somewhere, her little body lifeless and bloody. Or maybe she's alive, but she's terrified and crouched under a dumpster, wet and shivering and frightened and it's all my fault because I uprooted my tiny family and dragged them to this huge scary awful city where the cars drive too fast and people are assholes and it rains ALL THE FUCKING TIME.

As soon as I get home I start plastering my apartment building with the soggy fliers and within five minutes this girl knocks on my door to tell me she has my cat. Amelia ran out of our apartment, up two flights of stairs, and into this girl's apartment just as she was rushing off to work. She didn't come by sooner because she was late for work but she's home now and would I mind coaxing Amelia out from behind her toilet?

Amelia's fine. She's fine. She just ate a six ounce can of tuna and she is fine, but I am not. I am having a hard time shaking this sad sad sad feeling. I just want to curl up and hide from the world.