A Farewell to my Stevie Cat (and an important PSA)

After five and a half years of being my best friend, our kitty, Señor Stevie Nicks, succumbed to heart disease*.

If I had known it was coming I would have taken the time to have a few more days with him to do all the lovey things people do:

Chasing butterflies

Spinning in a field of flowers

 

Drinking milkshakes together

Going for boat rides in Central Park

Snuggling at home

   

But he was sick... and scared, and we lost him so suddenly. He was barely showing any signs of illness, still eating and playful, sleeping with his butt in our faces, drinking milkshakes, and rowing boats, but then he was gone just moments after getting him to the vet, leaving me and Mike shocked and devastated. I don't know how I have managed my whole life to avoid the up-close death of a pet with as many as I've had. It's a really horrible concept and I don't know who came up with it but I would like to unsubscribe, RIGHT NOW.  In the end, I am glad he chose us and we did everything we could to give him the best life possible. I love him so much and I will never forget my sweet Stevie cat.

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*Stevie died of cardiac arrest from an enlarged heart. He had a grain allergy, to the point that he couldn't even eat poultry that was fed grain or he would itch terribly and barf/poop/gain lots of weight. We found him a grain-free food that had all the nutrition he needed to keep him healthy, in theory. Unfortunately, I am finding now, much too late, that grain-free pet food currently on the market seems to contain some ingredient that might interfere with taurine uptake, which cats (and dogs) need to avoid heart damage. The FDA is investigating this, but there are things you can do in the meantime.

Please, if you are feeding your pet a grain-free diet have their taurine levels tested IMMEDIATELY (or as soon as you can afford to).

If they don't have allergies, stop feeding them a commercial grain-free diet. If they do, please, get their taurine tested and consult with a vet on how best to proceed. Once they have symptoms, which, in Stevie's case was only abdominal breathing, it is often too late, but the damage can be reversed if it is caught early enough with taurine supplementation. No one should go through what we're going through now, losing our pet so young, so please, share this information so every cat lives long enough to replace us as the dominant species on the planet.

Lessons Learned

I've learned a couple things in the past few days that I thought I should probably share with you all.

I've talked about the first one in the past, but apparently, it is still a lesson I need to learn as I lay here in buttloads of pain because my brain still hasn't learned the lesson that catching yourself when you're falling is often nearly as painful as just letting yourself fall.
This time, I was freezing so I very gracefully stepped out of my shower for a second to turn off the light which I forgot to turn off (see my last post), but the floor mat wasn't where it was supposed to be so I tried to scoot my foot over to it and pull it towards me so I didn't make as much of a puddly mess, but when I did that, I slid on the pool of water that was forming under my foot. I tried to catch myself with the towel bar, which wasn't happy with my antics and pulled completely off the wall.
At this point, I was doing a naked wet split, half in and half out of my bathtub, and I was falling forward with a pointy metal stick in my hand. Flailing, I tipped forward and was saved by a giant package of Costco toilet paper that was sitting underneath the towel rack, and I ended up planking on the toilet paper, to keep from breaking my leg on the edge of the bathtub. It was all pretty humiliating, and my husband slept through the entire ordeal, including me repairing the towel bar.
I keep having to remind myself when I am in awe of my pain levels that my shower acrobatics are entirely to blame.

I'm not gonna draw it. Feel free to submit your own artist's rendering.




And then I learned that sometimes, it's best to make a comment aloud into your empty house instead of commenting on the internet.
Usually, I keep my political commentary on my own Twitter page. I like to couple humor with fair points, but lately, I've been getting way too bold and when comments on safer accounts didn't blow up in my face, I branched out, and guys, I flew way too close to the sun.

I should have known better. It was a Bernie tweet. It's like MAGA jerkholes are just trolling his tweets all hours of the day and night waiting for some poor sap to comment so they can tell them that they're an asshole who needs to read a book and who has no idea of anything that has ever happened in the history of the world.  In fact, I'm kinda sure that that is exactly what they do.
When you see a comment section with absolutely NO comments that agree with the original post's point, THERE IS A REASON. Other people who agree already know this lesson, that's why they're not commenting. They know that these people will take any semi-valid point you make and purposefully misunderstand it so they can berate you because they need more love and understanding in their life and their moms should have hugged them more.

I just have to say, thank all the fluffy kittens in the world for Twitter's conversation mute option. There was just one guy trying to school me when I muted it, on the ridiculous notion that the current administration might consider cutting safety net provisions and that rich people might not want to just donate money to the government willy-nilly until some of those programs are enhanced. A masochistic curiosity brought me back to find that at least 15 people had joined in after I left to tell me that I was the stupidest person who ever existed and I should be ashamed to use words. I have no idea how many more people are going to join in, but it inspired me to take details about myself and my location off of the page, in case people decide to harass me for my humorously made point.
But lesson learned. Don't comment on Bernie Sander's twitter unless I have some sort of deep desire to be verbally abused.
I wish I had had something like that paper clip dude in Word that had stopped me in the first place.

I should have looked at kittens instead.

Cheeseblarg's Guide to Not Hating Everyone and Everything

This Tumblr post was brought to my attention recently and it strikes me as something that's really important to share:

http://thespoontheory.tumblr.com/post/137585788887/riotrite-cream-and-stars

Though it hadn't completely occurred to me, it goes along with my general philosophy on life and that philosophy is this:

If something bothers you and you can't control it, always try to come up with a situation in which it is completely reasonable so it is more bearable.

It is probably part of the reason why I excel at fiction writing, and humor writing to boot. I am always imagining reasons why people behave the way that they do so that is is less insulting to me. I can almost always come up with a creative reason why bad behaviour is excusable, so I am rarely upset for long when strangers are jerks (or make products that would otherwise be silly if not considered in the right context).

How many times have you come out of a store to find a car is parked 4 inches away from your driver's side door so you can't get into your car without crawling over the passenger's side seat, possibly causing you to become biblically familiar with your gear shift?

Inexcusable if the person is just a lazy asshole, BUT if  you imagine that the driver was about to have explosive diarrhea and needed to get into the store so fast they didn't have time to park right? I'd give them a pass! I know what that's like, and sometimes, not ruining your pants/car interior/everything, always and forever, is worth parking like a jackhole.

Ever have a waitron who seems like she is competing for world's grumpiest server? You smile sweetly at her, say please and thank you, don't make any unreasonable requests or uncomfortable jokes, you're the ultimate diner but nothing can make her lighten up? In fact, you've been her patron many times in the past and have tipped her 30% but she still treats you like you stole her boyfriend and parked right up against her driver's side door?

While you might want to request another table when you can, if you get stuck in her section, you can just pretend the poor lady is experiencing a terrible case of vulvodynia. If your genitals hurt all the time and you had to bring pancakes to people all day, how nice would you be?



How about this?

If only nature would find a way to cover these oranges so we didn't need to waste so much plastic on them. pic.twitter.com/00YECaHB4D

— Nathalie Gordon (@awlilnatty) March 3, 2016

Plastic is no doubt wasteful, but there has got to be a reason other than overconsumption or laziness that naked oranges are good right? Thinking about the dialogue above, we can understand that there are some people whose needs outweigh the dismay at convenience packaging. I know that with the hammer-smashy hand arthritis I've had, having a pre-peeled orange would be a godsend... if I could eat citrus without it exploding my bladder, of course.

That is not to say that people should have carte blanche to act like dickbags because other people will excuse them. Like in the example above, there are likely much less wasteful ways to package peeled fruit that can simultaneously make them easy to consume while not using a buttload of plastic. Like covering them in fondant or a hard candy shell! (<---That's a funny joke for people who will be mad about putting dirty sugar around healthy natural fruit...)

There are people, though, who we all damned well know don't have excuses, who are just so self-absorbed that they're horrible to other people and it shouldn't be allowed, and I thank you for calling those people out, BUT there are definitely times when you can't really control other people and if you tire of being indignant (which is totally understandable, because lately, there is so much to be indignant about), you can make up little stories in your head so you don't have to wallow in the misery of all the assholes in the world.

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Cheeseblarg's Guide to Guilt-Free Holidays

I'm very helpful, I know you all will agree, so this holiday season, I've brought you 7 surefire ways to avoid the guilt that tends to plague us around this time of the year. Having a happy holiday, whatever you might celebrate, is a great way to start a new year, so without further ado, 7 guilt-free holiday tips, right this way!

-One-

Don't feel guilty about eating food. Just don't. That is one of the choices you can make. The holidays are about enjoying stuff... why let feeling bad ruin that? When it comes to food guilt, just say no.

Because you can choose not to feel guilty for eating ALL THE FOODS!

-Two- 

But what if someone tries to guilt you for eating food?

If I had a million dollars for every time someone put out food and then asked me snidely, "do you really NEED to eat that?" I would have enough money to get a really good defense lawyer for stabbing them all with my fork.

Here are some good responses if you encounter this kind of bullshit this holiday season:

Say yes cheerfully (and then shove the food in your mouth). 

Deliver a simple "nope" (and then shove the food in your mouth anyway).

Tell the inquirer to fuck his/herself (also shove the food in your mouth).

-Three- 

Don't eat babies. Eating babies generally upsets people and you should totally feel guilty about it, you monster. What's wrong with you?

-Four- 

Enjoy everything you can because this time of the year is full of so much deliciousness. I mean, the holidays are about getting together and eating things... or eating alone at home with no pants on while watching Netflix with your cats.

You're making them wear holiday costumes anyway, you might as well have some spiked eggnog while you, Fluffernutter, and Mr. Whiskers binge watch Supernatural.

-Five- 

Don't kick orphans. This makes most people feel pretty guilty during the holidays, again, for good reason. Perhaps you could buy some toys for underprivileged kids or maybe just watch this Toys for Tots commercial with the kid who asks the Marine if he's Santa and cry on your cat.

I'm not kidding, I cannot watch this commercial without crying. *wipes eyes on Stevie*

-Six- 

Don't buy clothes in the wrong size (in the hopes of fitting into them) to stress yourself out before holiday parties. Seriously, having to spend time with people who take out their life's unhappiness on other people is NOT the time to sabotage any vestiges of your own happiness.

-Seven- 

Don't be the person who tells other people that they should feel guilty this holiday season. People remember they are expected to feel guilty, I promise. They don't need you to tell them. They also don't need you to bring celery to holiday parties, not because it's delicious and delightfully crunchy, but because you have appointed yourself the diet fairy who has arrived in order to keep everyone from eating delicious fatty food.

Vegetables are not above shaming you.

 Leave festive people alone...unless they're eating a baby or kicking orphans... then you can totally remind them that everyone thinks they're awful!

And with all that said, may your holidays be merry and bright and completely free of guilt!

New Year's Resolution: Abracadabra!

About 15 years ago, I made a New Year's Resolution to never make a new year's resolution ever again and I have kept it for a really long time.

The resolution before that was not to date anyone who I was not attracted to upon first meeting them. If you'll remember the story of Evil Mike, you will understand where this came from.

This year, I am breaking my resolution not to resolve anymore, because I have an important resolution to make.

I have been wearing bras since I was in 5th grade. That is approximately 3/4ths of my life and for 28 years, having my bra straps fall off of my shoulder has been the bane of my existence. I have even considered having metal bolts, a la Frankenstein, inserted into my shoulders to keep my damned bra straps from falling down.

After getting a proper fitting bra, last year, for the first time ever (thanks to Jen Yates), I realized exactly why all of my straps are like limp noodles.

For all of my bra wearing life, I have been performing the Houdini Bra Removal Procedure.
You all know this, right? The action that guys marvel at?

I've been doing this for 28 years... always, even when I took off my shirt directly afterwards. It is kind of ridiculous that it never occurred to me that doing magic tricks with my bra was going to damage it.

So from here on out, I resolve not to take off my bra Houdini-Style ever again, especially when I am just going to take my shirt off immediately anyway.

It's a Trap!

I was reading an article on how to succeed at blarging, and apparently, it is my failure to "get a celebrity" that is holding me back.

I am assuming, at this point, that there is some secret to "getting a celebrity" that is being purposefully hidden from me, because celebrity endorsement is motherfucking elusive. Or more likely, it will take something enticing like... money, or... something of some sort of value to get acknowledged, because offerings of llama drawings have, thus far, been summarily ignored, as have portrait paintings and obnoxious @ messages on twitter.


I'm thinking that I should build some sort of celebrity trap, which makes me sound a bit like a serial killer, but I promise, I don't want to harm them... I would just chain them up for a fortnight and make them tweet links to my hilarious posts at which point I would let them go, if they promised not to press charges.

I just have to work out a) how to get celebrities to come to Montana, and b) what kind of bait I should use.

If you know a celebrity, send them my way...but if you link them to this post, tell them I was joking about the bear trap... and the new car.

An illustrated guide for taking gross pills.

There are a plethora of really BAD tasting pills out there, and while children are usually the ones we need to worry about, some of them taste so bad that even adults need some help getting them down. The pills, not the children, what's wrong with you!?

I started taking Prednisone a week ago.  After two days, I couldn't take it any more and didn't think I would be able to force one more pill down my gullet, let alone four a day, so I used my well-cultivated creativity and came up with a way to take them without having to run around in circles, gagging and shuddering. I'm not even kidding. That stuff is horrible, almost beyond measure. As bad as guaifenesin (mucus reducing pills) and flagyl (you're usually nauseated before you take this, the taste doesn't help) or any prenatal liver vitamin.

So I bring you, my handy dandy guide (for adults and children) to take pills that make you want to shave your own taste buds off:

One word of advice: Be sure to take care to wrap the pill tightly. Pokey edges don't facilitate the swallowing process, at all!

And clearly, use liquid to swallow the pills, still. Do I need to mention that? 

How to survive a plane crash.

How to survive a plane crash in 8 simple steps that anyone can follow:

1. This is the most important step, which is why it is number one-
As the plane is falling from the sky and crashing into the ground, DON'T die.
If you can't even be bothered to do that, then further advice is useless.  You have to really be committed to the "not dying on impact" directive.

2. Fashion yourself a cool headband - this will keep sweat out of your eyes AND let other survivors know that you are SERIOUS about this survival stuff. SERIOUS..LY AWESOME... Especially if you make it out of a live animal.

3. Get a reasonable distance from the airplane until it is safe.  There is nothing more tragic than making the commitment to live through smashing into the ground, only to find yourself sucked into a jet engine while staggering around in shock. Also, shrapnel from exploding planes is adverse to your objective of living.

4. Find shelter- If blankets and cushions are not available for a fort because the plane is a fiery deathtrap, dig a big hole.  It will keep you warm (or cool) and you can always cover it with sticks and leaves when you are not using it, to trick people into falling in.  Practical jokes always raise morale.

5. Look for fresh water- or quickly get used to the idea that you might be drinking your own distilled pee water soon to live.  Beware other survivors who are fine with drinking urine, right off the bat.

6. Watch lots of episodes of LOST and read teen fiction like The Hunger Games Trilogy before any plane travel.  This will make you aware of all of the experiences you are sure to encounter while navigating a survival situation. Shows such as Survivor Man and Man vs.Wild will do you no good.

7. Always wear a suit of snack foods under your clothes when traveling.  While you CAN forage for edibles, that requires that you actually know what you are doing and don’t eat things that want to kill you. It is safer to just eat your clothes. A good mix of fruit rollups, corn chips, and jerky will keep you healthy until to you can be rescued.  Chocolate is not suggested for these garments.

8. Be rescued.

VERY loosely adapted from the SAS Survival Handbook.

To PM or NOT to PM, that is the question!

To me, private messages on Facebook are for things that you don't want to discuss aloud.  It is like a whispered conversation.  As such, it is immeasurably creepy when you ask an innocuous question of someone, or send them a birthday wish, and they see fit to answer you with a private message.
Here are some scenarios in which it is both appropriate and inappropriate to private message someone.

Times when it is appropriate to private message someone:

OR anything that is actually private or doesn't need to be shared with everyone you know...

Times when a private message is inappropriate:

OR

OR

Yeah, this one... don't do that... if it is SO creepy you know it is inappropriate for the general public, just keep it inside, please.

How I learned not to date at work.

In college, I worked as a desk assistant in the dorms.  That meant I sat behind a partitioned desk from about 8pm to 8am and checked out keys to drunk college kids who lost their keys while out drinking illegally. I also played a lot of pinball.

It was shortly after breaking up with my boyfriend, who had left for the semester break and just, not come back, that one of the dorm security guards, Bobert (named changed for anonymity), made it a point to stop by my desk to chat for a while every evening that we had the same schedule. And then, he asked me out on a date.  I usually just fell into boyfriends after I made them watch Total Recall with me so I hadn't gone on many actual dates, and he was quite handsome, so I was excited to go, though I was not really looking for a relationship... which is a good thing because a relationship TOTALLY wasn't going to happen.

I’m sorry, have I ruined the surprise for you? Yeah, the fact that I “changed his name for anonymity” should have been the first clue… anywho, carrying on…

Bobert decided to take me to a dinner and movie, which is standard dating fare from what I understand.  We were both in college so I was not expecting all that much, but I certainly was not expecting the 99 cent menu at Wendy’s.  But alas, he was handsome and had a totally bitchin’ beard, so junior bacon cheeseburger it was.
We found a seat and I began eating my burger while we chatted, only I was on a date, so instead of shoving the whole burger into my face, I tore off dainty pieces and nibbled them cutely… until I realized that he was staring at me like I was a complete freak of nature.

“What are you doing?” he said gesturing at my neatly torn quarters of hamburger.

“… Eating?”

“Why are you eating like a squirrel?” he demanded.

“I… I eat this way?”

How do you respond to that?  I suppose I could have told him I was of squirrel ancestry and if he was prejudiced against rodentia we could just end this now and he could take me home, which might have been slightly better. But, we somehow resolved the issue of my wildly inappropriate manner of eating and ventured on to the next leg of our date.

Being the big spender he was, instead of going to the movie theater at the mall, Bobert took me across the street to the dollar theater.  For those who don‘t know, once upon a time, they had theaters where tickets only cost a dollar and they played movies that had played at other real theaters but now, a month or two later, were available for much cheaper.  This particular theater was playing a movie I had already seen, a real romantic flick show called “A Time To Kill.”  But again, it was a new experience for me, so I just went with it, though I was getting a little less patient.

Now I have mentioned this was a date, and as such, I had gussied up some.  You know, clean clothes, brushed hair, lipstick, eyeliner, I might have even been wearing eye shadow because I wasted time on things like that back then. And so, I was completely mortified when Bobert began a rant, as we waited for the movie to begin, about how he had come to the conclusion that women who wore makeup were horrible ugly people who had no self-esteem and had to cover their terrible personalities with a slathering of bright colors. After blinking at him in disbelief, I recovered and blurted, “I think men have beards for the same reason!” TAKE THAT BEARD FACE!

About that time, the lights went down and I was relieved to escape into the world of horrific racism, murder, and  KKK meetings that the movie he had chosen to take me to was actually about, while arranging myself into a “DANGER position” and trying to scoot myself as far away from him as I could in my rickety-assed dollar theater chair, so he would stop “accidentally” touching my hand/leg/aura.

I spent the whole ride home in the same position, not even trying to make conversation any more, just staring out the window, waiting for my escape. The date ended with me pressed against the door waving with one hand while clawing at the door handle with the other.

And then I sat and fretted that I was now going to have to see this person every weekend, because we worked together and it was actually his job to come check on me. I prepared myself for it at work with extra magazines and books, so I could artfully ignore him when he came in, but he didn’t… until about two months later. At about 2 am, the door to the lobby opened and he came in with his security clipboard and his stupid beard. Thankfully, I had had enough of a wait so I was no longer allergic to him though I wasn't terribly excited to see him either. The passage of time allowed me to be cordial while he told me how much he had enjoyed our date and explained that his sister (a.k.a. my hero) had gotten mono directly after our date so he took some time off and that was why I hadn’t heard from him. I assured him it had not been a problem, at all.  I have not had one moment of regret since, though, that I never saw him or his beard again after that night.


p.s. For the record, I love beards, just not beard-faced jerk-heads.

In bed...

I feel like this fortune cookie from my delicious lunch is mocking me...

Yes, "you should," right, Cookie? If only you weren't afraid of interacting with people on the phone, and  you weren't so socially awkward, and your intestines didn't betray you in moments of stress, and probably if you could make left turns in traffic without having mini panic attacks? There are a lot of things you SHOULD be able to undertake and complete...

SHUT UP! YOU'RE A COOKIE! I'M AWESOME!

Stupid cookie!

Farmville Finishing School

Many people keep in touch with their friends and family via Facebook, and it is a great way to keep up. I adore Facebook; all my favorite people are there. But, every once in a while there arises a problem. Many of the friends and family members who we are glad to keep in touch with on Facebook also love playing social media games (read: Farmville) and, unfortunately, a few of them get a little over-excited and behave badly when it comes to common gaming courtesy. These are not things they would do face-to-face, of course, some of them even taught you the manners they are ignoring, but on the tubes, they sometimes need a little nudge in the courteous direction.

*shoves ever so gently*

Remember, this is for people who LIKE playing games. If you don’t ‘cause you’re really cool and have an actual social life/job, don’t take it out on the rest of us game dorks. Surely you figured out long ago how to block apps, but the following should still amuse.





Like it or leave it:
"Like" is a very handy feature for game playing on Facebook. It allows you to give a nod to the poster when you've taken something they've posted. It is like tipping your hat and saying thanks. It's like thank you notes your mom made you write for terrible things you got as presents growing up because it let the person who gifted it know you received it and that you were taught manners. If you don't acknowledge the gift-givers, they get annoyed...and then you don't receive any more black sweatshirts with glitter, and musical notes, and rhinestones, because you were in the orchestra and clearly, glitter and puff paint is your style. You write that thank you note even though wearing that sweatshirt, in south Florida where it doesn't even get cold, got you made fun of your entire 7th grade year and you have nightmares about it still...
But these are actually things you want, you are actively clicking them.
So make a point to “like” things when you take them, otherwise you are just a common snatcher... a common snatcher with bad manners.

Breakin’ 2- Electric Boogaloo:
When someone is sick/on vacation/mourning the death of a loved one and makes a point of announcing it on their status, unless they are sending you requests, LEAVE THEM ALONE. Get your watering cans/valentines/wooden boards somewhere else. Coming back to 332 requests after being in the hospital for a week in traction as a result of a terrible skiing accident just adds insult to injury. You might as well just post on their wall, “I didn’t care enough to notice that you were away… it probably wasn‘t very important anyway. Can I have a pixilated sheep?”

I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike :
Don't take everything someone posts. “But there are so many gold nuggets, I just can't help myself!” Help yourself, stop at 6. Sniping is bad. People don’t like snipers. That’s why they stick them in those towers alone. It’s not for the head shots, it is because they’re uncool.

I heard she’s been givin’ it up to all them graffiti guys:
Avoid allowing a game to post things on your friends' walls unless there is a damned good reason for it (or unless they have expressed that it is okay). When you post something one someone’s wall, they get notification, often an email. Then they get all excited that they have some love from a friend on their wall when they really needed it because they were having a really hard afternoon and all they needed was a kind gesture, and there it is… only it’s not love, it is a stupid post telling them that you found some fuel on their make-believe farm and that you have nothing nice to say to them at all. It’s a let-down.
I propose that all wall posts from games should be accompanied by a note reminding the recipient of what you like about them. That way, if you are crapping up their personal wall with your pig slop (does anyone ever want pig slop?!) at least when they see it is just a stupid game request, they can have an uplifting experience, instead of just annoyance.

Sham-a-lama-ding-dong:
You’re smart enough to know when it is a scam. Really? 100 unicorns for your farm by clicking HERE! No... and you'll probably need to change your password, too.

Something’s got to give:
Again, unless you have discussed it with someone beforehand, multiple gifts (6 or more a day) are obnoxious, really, even if you need them and are sending them so they can send it back. If you figure each person is sending 3 or more gift, times the amount of people you had to add to get a 26x26 farm, that is way too many freaking requests a day. And that is just one game. Most people play several.

The corollary of which is... If someone posts that they finished a collection, or mission, or that they are avoiding it all together, don't send them those objects. Request them, sure, but don't send them.

Yes, I am saying that you should actually make an effort to know what is going on with your friend's games (yes, your friends... people who you would like not to hate you). Take a minute to research. If worse comes to worse, just add random people whose friendship doesn't matter to you and annoy the crap out of them. Who cares if internet strangers think you’re a jerk!

Thanks to Rhea, Seja, and Gemma, for helping me with various aspects of this post!