Tag Archives: cats

photo friday: sleeping beauty

27 Jan
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Jerk. 

We have been blessed: Baby McSwedolish is an excellent nighttime sleeper. He is not so fantastic at taking naps during the day times, unless he is in his crate car seat,* toodling around with us on errands and outings.

But if I had to choose, I will take his proficiency at nighttime sleeping over napping any day, because 1) I’m not terribly good at napping myself, so I get his inability to do so, and more important, 2) I’m not sure he can nap, because the amount of time the beasts in this house spend sleeping at any given time of the day or night is so great that it probably absorbs all of the nap power from the other living beings residing here, thus rendering us all un-napable.

In other words, it is the cats’ and dog’s faults that Baby McSwedolish does not sleep well during the day. Mostly, of course, the cats’. Because everything is always their fault. Forever and ever, Amen.

*Stop calling it a crate. He’s not a puppy, girl. He’s a baby. A baby.

photo friday: patience

12 Feb

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The only thing these two agree on is that Ham is Delicious and Yes, We Will Sit Nicely Until The Big Man Hands It Over.

photo friday: into the black hole that is his brain

22 Jan

Cat don't care.jpg

Things he is not thinking:

  1. Sitting on this laptop–while very warming to my bum–is not conducive to the tall lady getting work done. I should move.
  2. My entire body spreads out much like Jabba the Hut’s when I lay down. Maybe the fact that these tall humans don’t give me ham every day is a good thing.
  3. I would like to create world peace.

Things he is thinking:

  1. Sucka.

yes/no/maybe

25 Nov

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and we have quite a bit we can be thankful for as we wrap ourselves in a mashed potato and pork sausage stuffing haze. There’s a lot the McPolish-Swede household has going for it, and we are grateful, don’t get me wrong.

But still.

There’s a lot of shit out there that I’m just not thankful for. I’m just not. It’s kind of fitting, really, when you think about the disastrous and tumultuous state the world is in these days. So much happy! With an intense amount of grief and strife hot on its heels. So much joy! And then a lot of Fuck You, Humans!

So to best capture the circuitous feelings of this season, may I present to you my Thankful/Not Thankful list of 2015? Yes. Yes, I may.

  1. I am thankful for Juniper, because of the unadulterated love she brings to our lives. (Except for the cats. They feel she brings no love to their lives.) There is nothing so awesome as coming home from wherever you’ve been and if a dog’s face could light up, that would be the expression on hers. She is purely and wholly excited to see me, even if I’ve been gone five minutes.I am not thankful for the times I use Juniper as a pillow and she farts in my face. It’s amazing I’m still alive, and that my sense of smell is still in tact after some of the bombs she’s dropped.

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    Super cute, but deceptively atrocious toots.

  1. I am thankful for living in the city of Chicago, because A) It’s gorgeous, 2) I like winter, III) it’s home.I am not thankful for living in the city of Chicago because A) rats in the alley, 2) Rats in the garbage, and III) Rats anywhere near me. Gross, you guys. Rats are gross. Even the ones from NIMH.
  1. I am thankful for Fat Ass and Lady Gaga Halloween Cat. No, I’m serious, I really am. They unwittingly provide hours of entertainment (mingled with exasperation, of course), and recently Fat Ass and I have declared a truce. It lasted all of five minutes, but it’s a step in the right direction, no?Proof that I am not heartless all the time.I am not thankful for the murderous look in their eyes that never seems to diminish. Ever.

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    The show How to Get Away With Murder is based on their life’s quest.

 

  1. I am thankful for grocery shopping. It is my most favorite activity in the world, and I could spend hours, days, months!, grocery shopping and daydreaming about the food I would make. I’m grateful that we can put food on our table and we don’t have to worry about where our next meal will come from.I am not thankful for kale chips. Who the fuck thought making chips out of kale was a good idea? Kale is fine the way it is unchipped. Jesus Christmas, people, come on.In all seriousness, I’m also not thankful for food waste. It’s become a pet peeve of mine over the past year, as I see so much in our refrigerator that goes bad and inedible before we can get to it or before we want to get to it. It’s horrendous, when you think about it, and just so patently smacks of privilege that it’s borderline embarrassing. I’m not proud of it, but I can change it, and believe you me, Interwebs, I’m working on it.
  1. I am thankful to be able to contribute to a retirement plan. In the past few years we’ve all dealt with, in one way or another, so much financial insecurity, and how many stories have you heard of people losing it all and starting over from scratch? Or people who never had it all to begin with, and are about done with the whole work thing, and have no idea how to live? So having a few pennies put aside for my golden years? Luxurious. My 80-year-old-self thanks me muchly.I am not thankful for the fact that I’ve had to learn the basics of investing the hard way (re: trial and error), and the lingo that swathes the industry makes my head spin like a tilt-a-whirl. Why was I never taught these things in school? And other life skills for that matter, like how to change a tire, balance a checkbook, run a household, create life-sized ice sculptures of forest animals? I know how to do some of these things, but for the love of all that is holy and decent, look around you, People Who Make Curriculum Decisions—what the shit are we going to do when we can’t Google our way out of trouble?
  1. I am thankful for you. Plain and simple.I am not thankful for…well, there is nothing about you for which I am not thankful—the good, the bad, the meh, the ugly, the beautiful. Even those times you don’t like me very much, I am still here, and I am forever grateful that I can share this little corner of the Interwebs with you.

Happy Thanksgiving, people.

What are you thankful/not thankful for this year? Share your thoughts in the comments!

 

conversations with cats, part VI

4 Nov

Me: Listen, I want to talk to you guys about something. What? No, it’s not about the lack of ham in your diets.

Them: Mew.

Me: Yes, I know your life is hard. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about. I want to talk to you about the dog.

Them: Mrrrr….

Me: Hey, don’t get your bitch on until you hear what I have to say, okay?

Them: <blink>

We're not actually listening to a word you say

We’re not actually listening to a word you say.

Me: OKAY? Fine, don’t answer. Anyway, it’s been a year. That’s 12 months. It’s time to give up the ghost. Juniper is not going anywhere, no matter how hard you glare at her. We just celebrated her Gotcha Day a few weeks ago. She’s staying. She is a part of our family.

Them: Mrrooooowwwww

Me: Well, I would celebrate your respective Gotcha Days, but I don’t know when they are. I asked Swede, but he’s vague on the details. He thinks maybe January? February? Hard to say. It was many moons before my time.

Them: Mew.

Me: Yes, yes, the time when your lives were still good and all was right with the world. <rolls eyes>

Them: Mrrrr

Me: Well I’m sorry I don’t have any more details. Swede has a lot on his mind lately. He can’t even remember where his pants are half the time, how do you expect him to remember your Gotcha Days?

Them: <blinkblinkblink>

Me: You wouldn’t understand. You guys are nudists.

Them: <blink>

Me: That was a joke, guys.

Them: <….>

Me: This is further proof that you guys have no sense of humor. Especially you, Lady Gaga Halloween Cat.

LGHC: <speaks with her eyes> I give no fucks.

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Guess how many fucks I do not give? All of them and none of them. Figure THAT one out, Einstein. 

Me: ANYWAY, I think you guys need to drop the attitude, stop barfing hairballs on the carpet, and Lady Gaga, stop acting like a goddamned Huffpost cat at 5:30 in the morning.

LGHC: <blink blink> Mrooww

Me: I appreciate the fact that after six years of being with Swede you have accepted me and somewhat forgiven me stealing your man. I do not appreciate, however, groping around on the floor for my glasses in the morning because you think it’s funny.

LGHC: Mep.

Me: And Fat Ass, if you would stop using your claws when you “play” with the dog, that would be fine.

FA: Mrrrooooooow

Me: I didn’t say you had to stop slapping her around. If she wants to be afraid of you, even though she outweighs you by 192 percent, that’s fine. Just no claws.

FA: Mrrrr

Me: Just…be cool guys, okay? It’s a tiny condo. We need to live peacefully, in harmony.

Them: Mrw.

Me: <sigh> Yeah, I know it’s too much to ask of you, too.

photo friday: no. just, no.

4 Sep

Since the day we brought her home, Juniper’s greatest want in life is for the cats to be her friends.

Since the day we brought her home, the cats’ greatest wants in life is for Juniper to stop sniffing their butts. And then to go the hell away.

They are all currently at an impasse.

"Are you sure you don't want to be my friend?" "Go away."

“Are you sure you don’t want to be my friend?”
“Go away.”

zen and the art of closet maintenance

26 Aug

You may remember, back in June, when this happened:

Mother shit, this has been wreaking havoc on my life.

Mother shit, this has been THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE FOR MONTHS NOW. 

I am…huh. Well I’m not happy, or sad, but I’m not indifferent, I’m just, well, I guess I’m just reporting with confused and pained and shit-happens emotions that this mess has not yet been remedied. For those of you keeping track, yes, this disaster originally happened in June. It is now late August. And that is a long time to live with such chaos in this bootbox of a condo.

I actually went out and bought a closet organizer from Home Despot soon after disaster struck. It’s a lovely organizer, with lots of bars and things upon which to hang my and Swede’s clothes, and racks to store purses and other such items.

Since its arrival, said lovely organizer has made a wonderful home for itself propped against the wall in our front hallway. I look at it fondly every time I enter or leave our home. Sometimes I even give it a pat on the top of its box and wish it a good day as I toddle off to work.

I’ve had incredible intentions over the past couple of weekends while Swede was out of town to install the organizer, but my follow through leaves something to be desired. I went so far last weekend to move the mess from our bedroom to the living room, now that our foreign exchange student has departed. I did this with the intention of clearing out the closet space completely so I could buckle down and organize the shit out of the organizer, and use power tools, and build things and….yeah. I don’t actually know that power tools are necessary to install this organizer, but a girl can dream.

But before I could get so far as to even threaten the closet menacingly with a power drill, I was talking with my friend LP and telling her how I’d moved all of our clothing into the living room, and I was going to install the closet organizer, and then, while everything was out in the open, purge my clothing supply like a motherfucker. At which point LP suggested I purge before I install the closet organizer, because once it’s ready to go, she pointed out, I’ll want to fill it, and I probably wouldn’t end up purging as many items as I should.

Blew. My. Mind.

So I started purging, tossing shirts and dresses and a couple of pairs of pants and even a pair of shoes, but then Swede got home, so while I finished the purge, I (again) never got around to installing the closet organizer. Nor have I moved our clothing back into our bedroom. It’s still in the living room.

And these assholes have decided they like it that way.

Quit looking at me, Tall Lady. You left your shit here, and now it's mine.

Quit looking at me, Tall Lady. You left your shit here, and now it’s mine.

It is not my fault that you put your clothes within reach of my napping. Also, that dress behind me is ugly. What were you thinking?

It is not my fault that you put your clothes within reach of my napping. Also, that dress behind me is ugly. What were you thinking?

Instead of getting into heated debates with the jerks about how I put my clothes there for their comfort, I’ve decided to use this turn of events as motivation to get the damn closet organizer installed in the damn closet.

Now. If only I could find the power drill.