Curiosity (Almost) Killed the Cat

Gabby is definitely the entertainment of our little family. She is bossy, independent, sassy, and totally thinks she is in charge of the household. She smacks Izzy around a good bit and puts her in her place most of the time. Now that they are two years old Gabby has become increasingly defiant of the word ‘No’. Dealing with her reminds me of the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. She does as she damn well pleases; no matter how many times I put her down off the table, she is going to turn right around and jump back up. All the while making this little purring/meow sound that totally sounds like she is mouthing off to me (Mom, are you happy? I did end up with one just like me).  As independent as she is, she can’t stand it when I go to a part of the house without her. Mostly because she is so nosy. Bags on the counter? Let me stick my head in there. Hey what’s this? I’ll just take that and chew on it, thanks. You didn’t want that on the floor? Too bad, I did. Ooo! ClosetdoorisopenI'mgoingtojumpinsidesofastandknockthingsdownofftheshelves. That last one is especially fun. I think she is convinced I have a trap door in the bathroom that I will sneak out of and never come back, because holy cow if I go in there and shut the door she all but grabs the doorknob and opens the door. If I am walking down the hall she has to be first. She’ll come flying from behind me and run to get ahead of me. But not straight down one side of the hall, oh no. She waits until she’s beside me and then cuts across thiscloseinfrontofmyfeet and runs diagonally to the other side. Then she stops to stretch while I am cursing and regaining my footing from tripping over her. And, when she feels neglected, she’ll just reach out and grab my leg. With her claws.

So, based on her demanding personality alone, she tends to get more attention than Izzy. Mostly because I still have a hard time getting Izzy to come close to me most days. This progress was set back again last month when we had to make 2 trips to the vet ($$$ shoot me now) for a bladder infection that required about 3 weeks of twice daily antibiotics. Oh, and special food. That Gabby can’t have. Which means I have to feed them in separate rooms. Super! Needless to say Izzy got quite a bit of attention from me in those few weeks. It was a twice daily routine of shutting all the doors, chasing her down the hall, shoving her in the bathroom, give her medicine (this was the easiest part – go figure), shove her in another room, fix her special food, and feed her while she’s locked up in a separate room. Great plan right? Almost. Izzy wouldn’t eat while she was in there alone. So I had to go sit with her. Only she wouldn’t eat consistently, she would eat a few bites and come for me to pet her. Then eat a few bites and come for me to pet her. Meanwhile, Ms. Nosy Britches was having a FIT outside the door, meowing and scratching away. Guys? Hey guys? What’s going on in there? How come I can’t come? Hello? Guys? Then her paws would come under the door and she would scratch at the bottom and inside of the door. Like actually breaking off small pieces of wood from the bottom of the door. So then Izzy is all like hey what’s that, I have to check that out! And she’s distracted from eating. So I go back and forth between trying to force Izzy to eat, petting her, and swatting Gabby’s paws away so that she doesn’t distract Iz. Repeat 238479238 times. Twice a day. Funnnnn.

Needless to say, Gabby is the one almost always providing the entertainment. Which is why I was so surprised last night when Izzy was the one who made me laugh so hard I was practically crying. I was hosting a Beauti Control party at my house and we were all sitting around the kitchen table getting makeovers. Gabby has of course been in here since the consultant arrived, snooping in all of her stuff and being her usual prissy self. Izzy eventually made her way back to the front of the house because I’m guessing curiosity and loneliness got the best of her. We are sitting at the table, chatting away, when we hear a ruckus in the living room. Izzy has been snooping in some of the bags (like paper shopping bags with a stiff handle at the top) and has gotten her head stuck in one of them. And she is WIGGING OUT. She comes FLYING through the kitchen behind us, runs into the other part of the kitchen, slamming into cabinets at every turn, makes another loop around the kitchen, claws scraping the floor the whole time because she can’t get traction on the kitchen floor, and now the bag has ripped down the side because she got it stuck on something as she flew by, so the bag is now flying long-ways behind her like a cape with the handle around her neck, meanwhile Gabby is trying to chase her but she is nowhere near as fast as Izzy so she is basically just running in an aimless circle, then Izzy flies into the kitchen again but because the bag is throwing her off balance even more now she SLAMS into the stove because she couldn’t make the turn, and then takes off down the hall with the cape bag flying high in the wind. And this all happened in about 3 seconds. It was serious Mighty-Mouse-style.

We.were.laughing.so.hard.

Once I get calmed down a bit from laughing so hard, I finally find her on the other side of my bed, still very much freaked out. I try to reach for her and she dives under the bed. So I go to the other side and she runs to the opposite side. We do this for a few minutes (meanwhile I am still laughing uncontrollably, because I can see her makeshift cape up close and it really is that funny) until she finally stops and I can get close enough to snatch it off from around her neck. Poor thing stayed in my room the rest of the night! Of course, something like that had to happen to my cat that is already so skittish. Although I’m sure if it had happened to Gabby, she would have pranced her fatty tail right up to me and demanded I take it off.

So that is the tale of Izzy Busy and the Attack of the Scary Bag Cape. Ooo, sounds like a children’s book, yes?? Ok maybe not, but I could totally write about these girls and their crazy antics. My next venture is to set up a camera to figure out why I have found claw marks on the wall as high up as the top of my windows. And on the top of my curio cabinet. Seriously??? I've heard of flying squirrels but this is a bit ridiculous.

And yes, I’m completely glossing over the fact that it’s been about 3 months since my last blog post. 

A Whole New Experience

Last week I took a trip to Whole Foods for the first time. I was on the hunt for organic lightly salted blue corn tortilla chips that I had at a work party and fell deliciously in love with. They are amazingly good. Anyway, I realized there was a Whole Foods a few blocks from work and I could not only seek out my beloved new chips but also explore a new store. Off I went, arriving just before 5:00 and parking far away from the door. Surely all of these people weren’t in Whole Foods, I was sure at least half of them were in Ben and Jerry’s considering it was so hot. Feeling particularly optimistic I grabbed one of the big push shopping carts instead of one of the hand held ones because I just knew I was going to find all kinds of particularly fantastic whole-foody things to buy in there. Once I walked in I immediately regretted my choice of shopping cart. 

To say the place was a zoo was an understatement. Apparently no one was in Ben and Jerry’s lets just put it that way. I pushed my way around the produce section, having mini-strokes and heart attacks all along the way as I glanced at the prices. $8 for some strawberries?! Now granted, they were the most beautiful, scrumptious looking strawberries I had ever seen, but still… $8?! For that much they better come with chocolate and whip cream and a very cute man-servant to feed them to me. Trying to maneuver my way around the store was nearly impossible with my shopping cart given the fact that everyone and their mom/husband/loud child was there and the fact that they had packed about 10 aisles worth of products too many in that building. I had only been in there 5 minutes and had already almost knocked over a glorious display of organic peaches. I probably would have been charged a re-stocking fee had I knocked them over. I decided to leave the produce section and make my way across the store aisle by aisle. Once again I realized the mistake of my shopping cart as I kept apologizing for almost running into people. People who by the way looked extremely annoyed that I appeared to be browsing with an empty cart rather than mad-dashing around the store going for the exact organic-natural-taste-free thing I wanted. It was around this time that I started to feel out of place carrying my Coach purse and wearing my Jack Rogers. 

Everywhere I looked I saw words like organic, natural, flax seed, soy, unsweetened, gogi, acai. My optimistic attitude was quickly leaving me and all I could think was fake, fake, fake. Then I stopped in front of the vegan display and saw this: rice vegan block, cheddar flavor. A flavored block? For serious? Not only that, but it was cholesterol, lactose, dairy, and soy free. What does that leave? A cheddar flavored block. A block of what exactly??  Hi, I’d like to order a blockburger please. No thank you. Moving on. Feeling quite defeated I made my way to the other side of the store where I saw an entire humongous display of cheese. Real cheese. Cue the bright light and angel choir. There’s hope after all! And there were samples… mmm this was better than Costco!  I settled on some kind of cheese from Ireland that I had never heard of but was rather tasty when I sampled it. I’m sure my fellow shoppers were much less annoyed with me now that I was not pushing around a completely empty cart anymore. I eventually found the chip aisle and found the chips I was there to get in the first place. Feeling even more accomplished and successful I went back to the meat department to have a look around. I’m not really sure what happened at this point, I think I was still on a high of finding real cheese and my yummy chips and sort of spaced out. Before I knew it I was putting a wild basil and goat cheese salmon burger into my cart. Do I even know how to cook a salmon burger? No. But I like goat cheese, and I was particularly intrigued by this wild basil. I mean what makes it wild anyway, is it because of where it grows or is it a total party herb and the black sheep of the herb family? Curious. But I digress. 

I made my way to the front to check out and got in line. Most stores I usually go in have candy, gum, and a magazine with Angelina Jolie on the cover at the checkout line. Here, they have stuff like organic ethanol eucalyptus and Echinacea (apparently Echinacea is pretty important because my auto-correct in Word keeps capitalizing it). I look around at the other lines and notice people pulling out their own reusable bags to put their groceries in to take home. I start to feel like a total jack-ass for coming to this natural and organic product store and not considering the environment and wonder if I will be black listed for having to use their paper bags.  Luckily I made it out without incident with my cheese, chips, and wild salmon burger in tow. Assuming you consider almost running into about 15 people and almost knocking over about 5 different displays “without incident”.

The best part? In the freezer section, right next to the dairy and soy free ice cream, were little pints of Ben and Jerry’s. Hope is restored. 

Lazy Blog

So it's been a while, big surprise. I've already confessed to not being so good at updating anymore, which is ironic considering my amounts of free time lately. I need to update on my gall bladder surgery, my birthday, 4th of July, and anything else that has happened in the last month. But instead, I opted for another photo blog. I've been going through some old pictures lately and became inspired. So, enjoy.

My first birthday. I just like this one because my Dad looks 12. And thanks for the shirt! 

Sigh. When you're the second child, you're forced into hand-me-downs....

....and bathing in the lake. 

You talkin' about MY sand castle? 

Lazy babysitter. 

I got a fur coat! I got a fur coat! and I'm THISEXCITEDTHATIGOTAFURCOAT!!!!

Apparently the Easter Bunny thought Ashley would make a good quarterback. 

What? Daddy said it was okay for me to sit on the table. 

Something tells me I wasn't enjoying the ice skating. 

The Duck Whisperer. With chicken legs. 

I don't even know where to start. The plaid, the braces, the hat, oh my. Big thanks to my friends who stuck with me through my awkward phase. 

Stirrup pants and a Christmas sweater. Need I say more? 

We're Duke fans. 

I have since perfected this look even more. 

I like this for 3 reasons: the crazed look on Ashley's face, her shoes, and the ginormous alphabet sheets hanging in the background. 

Now that I have sufficiently and completely embarrassed myself, the end. 

Busy Busy Busy... Sike!

Well, one thing is for sure. I am not going to make a career out of blogging, because it is obvious from the time since my last post that I am not very diligent about it. But seriously? I’ve been too busy doing nothing to have time to write!

First up – graduation. Cue the marching band, fireworks, and choir singing the Hallelujah Chorus. No more school! No more books! No more having no life because I’m busy with school! Ok so I changed the words a bit. Graduation day was fun, and it was actually kind of a blur because I was so anxious to leave because I had somewhere else to be that night.  The only hitch was when they made me take the decorations off of my cap. I mean really? Not only had we been sitting in that room, waiting, and then lining up, and then waiting, for a total of 2 hours before someone said something to me about it… but the homepage to the school’s WEBSITE had a picture of a girl in a graduation cap that said “hi mom!”.  My first instinct was to say no way was I taking it off. Instead I simply said (with no attitude at all of course) “well what if I don’t want to take it off?” to which she replied “I am just a messenger but these are the rules” or some B.S. like that, to which I replied “well if they are in fact rules then perhaps they should be distributed to the graduates with the graduation info and perhaps your website shouldn’t advertise decorating graduation caps!” Bleh and hmpf. And then I took off the decorations I’d spent the night before making on my cricut. I really wanted to refuse to take them off, considering how much money and years I had spent for that $@#% degree, and I figured that would mean I couldn’t walk or participate in the ceremony but by golly I would stand up for what I believed! Instead I took off the decorations, but only because my family was sitting out in the audience and I figured they would be pissed if they came all the way to the middle of nowhere to watch random people graduate.

Next up – dance recital. After zooming home as soon as graduation was over, we made it back to town just in time for a huge thunderstorm  (complete with hail and pouring rain so hard that Dad had to drive 25 mph, all the while I’m yelling “the suburban can take it! Go go go!”) . Once we made it through the storm I got to the recital just in time for intermission, so I didn’t miss nearly as much as I thought I would. The next few days and the week that followed were pretty emotional, because this was my last recital. I’ve decided not to teach dance anymore; 7 years has been a good run but it was time for things to end. There was a lot of crying, a lot of guilt, and more crying and guilt. Most importantly I had a great last recital with wonderful girls that I will never forget. As Forrest says, that’s all I have to say about that.

In the weeks that followed I found myself in unfamiliar territory.  All in the same weekend my two extracurricular activities were finished. Now I just go to work. And then come home. It’s amazing! My house looks nice in the afternoon light. My cats are wondering why I have so much time for them. And when I want to go and do something, whether it be run errands at CVS or grab dinner with a friend,  I CAN. And it’s awesome.

So now that things outside of work have calmed down considerably, things at work have been kicked up a notch. I’m going to be doing some new things now and have been training for the last few weeks while trying to keep up with my normal responsibilities. Stress?  Check. But I’d rather be so busy I can’t stand it than not have much to do. So I’m managing okay. In the meantime, tomorrow I’m having surgery to have my gallbladder removed. You know, just to up the ante since things are so calm and all. I’ve been seeing doctors and having tests done since January so hopefully after tomorrow I’ll be rid of the pain that’s been bothering me for the last 6 months.  It’s a bit unsettling because basically they just ruled other things out, and said there’s a 70-80% chance that it’s my gallbladder. Well that’s all well and good Mr. Doctor-man, but for my Type-A-slightly-controlling-OCD-self, I would prefer 100% guarantees. But apparently I can't get everything that I want, or so I'm told. Here’s hoping I’m not that 20%! Otherwise I’m going to wish I hadn’t done it. 

Another Attack

I love my car. I decided to get a hybrid because I drive a lot (work, school, etc) and I felt it was the responsible thing to do. Yes, it may not have a lot of get-up-and-go, and some may refer to it as a go-kart (MOM), but I get 47-50 mpg and that goes a long way when gas is $3.80 per gallon. I feel like I’m doing my part to help the environment, like in that Nissan commercial where the polar bear travels thousands of miles just to give the guy a hug for doing his part to stop global warming.

So why, I ask you, is Mother Nature out to get me and Rosario (yes, I named my car after Karen’s maid on Will and Grace; don’t ask)? First, there was the now infamous Triple F incident in January. Which, by the way, my family is constantly reminding me about. Nana and I were driving home from Durham on Saturday and when we were approaching the site of “the incident” she starts singing “O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree”. Thanks Nana. I feel the love. Anyway, I was driving to town yesterday morning and had another incident. You know how sometimes birds are in the middle or the side of the road, and as you are approaching they fly away? Well this particular bird was a bit directionally challenged, or just plain stupid. He flew left, right, front, and then BAM into my windshield. My hands flew to my mouth as I shrieked in surprise (and then quickly realized I should probably keep my hands on the wheel so as to avoid yet another incident) and frantically looked in my rearview mirror to see what happened to birdy. About 2 seconds later he spiraled to the ground cartoon-style and landed with a thud. But wait! He’s moving! Maybe he’s not dead! He’s flapping his little wings with all his birdy might! Ok, so he’s not going anywhere, but he’s moving! That’s a positive sign! Ok, I thought, maybe I just stunned the crap out of him and he’ll be ok, and he’ll fly away in a few minutes. Unless of course someone else runs him over while he’s recovering on the side of the road…

I was feeling confident that birdy had flown away and was having a time telling his family how he dove kamikaze style into my windshield. I was so confident in this that I forgot to look for him when I drove home yesterday. So this morning on the way to church, I looked around for birdy. I didn’t see him around the spot where he hit me, so I was relieved and thought he was certainly ok! And then – I saw a dead CARDINAL laying on the side of the road, with one wing still stuck in the air as if to say “I surrender, I surrender!” I cannot believe this! I hit a Cardinal! The state bird of North Carolina! Surely that has to be a crime! I may as well go dig up a bunch of dogwoods or something!

I just don’t get it. I want things to stop attacking my car. I want my polar bear hug dammit! 

The Prayer

The blessing at dinner tonight:


Sam: Thank you God for letting Kelly graduate from high school or college or whatever it was. 


Susan Claire: Sam, it's school! Happy Celebrate! 

For serious?

I have decided one thing for sure: 2011 has a sense of humor! Once again, when I said “bring it on 2011” I didn’t expect it to take me so seriously. As you can tell from the amount of time since my last post, I haven’t had time to write anything lately. Nana fell and broke her shoulder a few weeks ago and required round the clock care for the first 2 weeks. I stayed with her at night and lived out of my suitcase for a while, and completely neglected my house and kitties in the interim. I thought the girls took it quite well, but then Gabby woke me up one morning when I got back by slowly dragging her claws across my leg. Ouch, and point taken. Anyway, it’s been nice to be back at home and in my normal routine, which I’m trying to make include more frequent blog posts. How am I doing so far?

And now it’s time for the portion of our show that I like to call: random thoughts.

I’ve been working a lot the last few weeks on finishing my research project for my masters. A-l-m-o-s-t done. Like, literally 3 more days and then I’ll be done. I’m feeling a little bit accomplished and all that jazz so excuse me while I indulge a little bit in my accomplishment-ness.  It’s taken me 3 years to complete this degree, which is funny because it doesn’t seem like I started that long ago. I went to school while working a full time and part time job, and got way better grades than I did in undergrad when my job was going to school. So imagine my disappointment (or maybe you can’t, because you aren’t as neurotic as me) when I realize that I won’t graduate with top honors. From top to bottom there’s summa cum laude (aka super extra smart), magna cum laude (extra smart), and cum laude (smart). I graduated undergrad as laude-you’re-lucky so I really wanted to get the smarty pants honor cord this time. And as of right now I’m 0.033 points away from the super extra smart one. Do you know how much that bothers me??

Gabby and Izzy are up to something. I can’t figure out what, but I’m sure they are plotting against me. They are being way too good (especially considering I left them alone for 2 weeks) and Izzy especially is being way too friendly. More on that later; I just know something is going to happen.

I am slightly obsessed with the Royal Wedding (yes, capitalized; show some respect). Wills and Kate, Wills and Kate, I can’t get enough. AND it is going to be the best thing ever to finish my project Thursday night and watch wedding stuff all day Friday. I mean work on Friday and DVR all of the wedding stuff. Either way. Exciting stuff! (By the way, watching a lifetime movie about the courtship of William and Kate before bed will cause you to wake up in a panic thinking you are late for the wedding. Followed by dismay when you remember that you’re not invited.)

I am so excited thinking about the next few weeks to come. I’ve got my facebook back now, so I feel connected with the world again. Dance recital is coming soon and after that I’ll have my evenings back. And graduation is coming up, did I mention that is the same day as dance recital? Yeah. Go-go gadget be in two places at once. Anyway, I was thinking of all of these things on my way home the other day and as if on cue the song “1999” by Prince came on the radio. Why, don’t mind if I do party like it’s 1999. Cause I’m that excited. 

*update - no joke? in the time it took me to copy and paste this post from Word into my blog, Izzy launched herself from her snoozed position on the back of the couch into a lamp trying to chase a bug. The lamp is now on the floor, along with a coaster and picture frame.