Let's hear it for sleepless nights!

Despite my exhaustion, the past few nights I've found myself not being able to sleep. My brain can't shut down. I sleep lightly when I do sleep, the slightest sound wakes me up. Last night it was the sound of Kiki throwing up a hairball, then just throwing up, a little food, a leaf, and some spit. Get up, clean the floor, make sure she doesn't have vom on her pretty fur, and then back to bed is the standard routine for 3 am cat barfs, which are a pretty regular part of our lives. The first warning cough from a cat's mouth can wake me from the deepest of sleeps, thanks for the couple of years with my sick Roo-cat. It's like a bat signal for me. We joke that Roo was just prepping us for what it will be like with a newborn. Luckily Kiki's are either hairballs or this weird vindictive way of getting me to wake up earlier than 5 am to feed her. "I am so hungry, look I am spitting up on the floor" and then it's MEOW MEOW MEOW PURRRRRR FEED ME. She never throws up in the daytime. It's only between 3 and 4 am. This morning though, instead of going back to bed, I went to lay on our tiny couch. Kiki joined me, and it's the only spot where she will actually lay ON me. In bed it's always next to me, in the crook of my arm, or on a pillow just at the tops of our heads. But on the couch, she will get right on me. Especially now. I think she likes the baby, (I hope she does) and it seems the baby likes her, for whenever she lays on my stomach and purrs, the kicks are more frequent. So either the baby is enjoying her, or maybe the baby hates her. Not that anyone could ever hate Kiki, it's impossible. I fell asleep for a half hour or so, scrunched in an uncomfortable position on the two seater couch, with Kiki asleep on my belly and an afghan half covering us, and it was probably the most peaceful thirty minutes of sleep I've had in a long time.

This morning is full of coffee and orange juice and attempting to be productive. Here I go.

(Last night I read about diapers and baby baths. It never ends.)

twenty two days ago

That was the last time I wrote on this thing. What has happened since then? Well, it's officially FALL, which is great. I am so glad. Now if only I knew where my tights and sweaters are, since I packed them away before we moved, but I don't know in what. Probably in the mountain of shit in our storage space. Not that it will matter much if I find them, as I've easily put on fifteen pounds since last fall, so it may be time to invest in some new tights. Too tight tights? NO THANK YOU. (I am currently wearing one of the two pairs I could locate. Right now, I feel like sausage in casing.)

Fall into winter is a busy time at work, and in life, I guess. I will be turning 34 in a couple weeks, and things are changing in some pretty major ways, most of which I will not discuss on here, but I will say this: when you aren't expecting things is when they will happen.

We brought Kiki in to see her boyfriend (the vet) to check out her scabby chin and get an overall check up & senior blood work done.

(Here's where I brag for a moment about just how GOOD Kiki is at the vet. She may cry in the car, but once she is there, she never puts up a fight, even when he scrapes the plaque off her teeth with his thumbnail. She has not once scratched a vet, not in al her fifteen years. Watch, I probably just jinxed myelf and next time she will tear someone up...)


He asked us how she was doing, being the only cat and what not, and then recommended that if we DO decide to get another cat, we SHOULD get a KITTEN.
THIS IS EXCITING NEWS. Especially because the Quincy Animal Shelter is loaded up with them right now. In fact, this weekend they were having a "Kitten Klearance" Adoption Weekend, as they have over SEVENTY kittens available. We are going to check with the landlord to make sure it's okay if we have two cats (I've never understood the only-one-cat-rule. What's two cats when you already have one, really?) and once we get the okay, we will go pick out Kiki's new kitten. I wish we could bring her along to choose. I have a bunch of days off around my birthday, and all of our possible plans have not worked out, so I have no plans. Perfect time to stay home with cats, I'd say.

Maybe we will name the new cat Birthday.

I can't believe it's September.

We have not adopted a second cat. It's still a thing we think about and talk about, but I think maybe it's not what Kiki wants after all. We've started leaving the radio on for her during the day, and it turns out that maybe she just really wanted to listen to NPR for eight hours a day. WHO KNEW! She is so informed now.

So far the only problem with this plan has been the night we went to Amber's graduation party and we spent the night to be safe. We left the radio on in the bedroom for her. The volume of it at noon on saturday when we left was perfectly acceptable. That same volume at 5 am on Sunday morning blaring out of open bedroom windows, not so much. When we pulled into the driveway, I heard people talking. I thought WHO THE HECK IS UP SO EARLY AND WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT and then I realized what it was, and I felt like a giant asshole.

It hasn't happened again.
Anyways.

We are nearly settled. The tiles are scraped in the bathroom, so we can see the original lovely sea green/aqua. We still need to fix the grout, and we plan on replacing the bathoom faucet. It works fine, but it's gross. Pretty gross. Too gross to actually feel clean when you clean it. So even though we rent, and we won't be here forever, we are going to replace it. Just like we did with the kitchen. It's amazing, it's such a small thing to do and it makes the BIGGEST difference. Try it the next time you move into an old apartment.

I have a little workspace set up in the corner of our "diningroom". It's gets the quotes, because while it has a table and chairs and a hutch with dishware, it also houses the aforementioned workspace, (made up of our old tiny table and some strategically placed shelves) a bookcase, more books in the hutch, the plant cart, and the two fifty gallon tanks filled with water where Ethyl, Bertha, Bruce, and Little Turtle* live. Also my giant closet. So it's just a big mish mosh, like everything else in my life, which is fine with me.

Speaking of the turtles, Ethyl & Bertha let me stroke their heads. LT likes to be hand fed one piece of food before he will eat anything else in the water. Bruce doesn't really want to interact. It's fine. I am like that often, too, Bruce, so I understand. Kiki is only interested in LT and Bruce when she has had a lot of catnip. Not a little. She needs a whole pile to roll in, only then does she notice their presence, and it's a pretty awesome sight.

It's hard to believe it's almost the middle of September. I turn 34 years old in a little over one month. It's hard to believe it, sometimes.


*Little Turtle is the only turtle with his original name. I renamed the other three. Little Turtle is also known as LT or Lawrence Taylor.

I am on vacation.

This means it's 8:28 am on a Tuesday and I am sitting in Cat Dad's robe, drinking coffee and listening to the radio while fucking around the internet. I am NOT at work. I am not going anywhere, or doing anything very exciting. He has the car, so if I want to go anywhere it's a pain in the ass. I am just home. And it's NICE. (I am supposed update my etsy shop this week. I will. I SWEAR.)

Let's see. Friday was my first of ten days off. I spent the day crazy cleaning our whole apartment. Half the living space had become a pile of vintage. A mobile rack, suitcases, bags. I managed to find a place for everything. It's tight. And organized. In the last month we really have figured out this apartment, the best ways to make use of it's tiny space. We could still make the closets better, and we definitely have more we can get rid off, I'm sure. But right now, our place feels really good. Cozy. Light. Airy. There's a lot of good views in it right now. It's really important to me to love where I live, as I am basically a giant homebody, but as a Libra, I need to be surrounded by beauty. SO I CAN'T LIVE IN AN UGLY PLACE. I won't allow it.

I am rambling due to how I started this day and my coffee is only just now kicking in, so let me get to the point.

We had been talking for awhile now about whether or not we would renew our lease. As much as we like our actual apartment, the neighborhood isn't the best. In fact, it kind of sucks. I am not a fan of some of the neighbors. And it's a little unnerving to hear teenagers getting arrested at 1:00 AM for jumping a man who was walking home from the train. Right outside your bedroom window. I wouldn't mind being able to walk down my street and not have to look down for broken glass.

We couldn't do anything until after Roo. It wouldn't have been fair to do that to her. Kiki seems to be enjoying herself now. She is quite the princess. She has taken over the backporch, eats four meals a day. While she would probably be a little pissed at us, I don't think a move for her is out of the question right now. She is still pretty spry. And if we ever do get another cat, we should probably live someplace else.

Which leads me to this. We looked at apartment a couple weeks ago. We applied for it. We are still waiting to hear. It's weird. I could be using this vacation to pack. Or not. And either way, we will accept the decision. I've been looking around here sadly the past few days, thinking I could still enjoy the space I've made for a little bit longer. But then I look in the tiny jam packed closet and remember the FOUR closets that could be ours, and I know we are ready for a change. So whatever happens, we will keep on keeping on and doing what we do.

BUT HEY, CROSS YOUR FINGERS FOR US. Thanks, really.

and now a brief recap of the past four days aka Cat Dad Turns Thirty So We Celebrate

FRIDAY: Cleaned all day. Our friend Jordan came over that night, we drank beer and ate burgers & fries and HUNG OUT, it was great. I decided that it was time for Cat Dad to open his first birthday present, the classic navy blue lace up vans he's wanted since he was thirteen but for some reason has never bought. He put them on right away and was so happy. I rule.

SATURDAY: Woke up kinda fuzzy. Showers, coffee, breakfast sandwiches (homemade, always, glutenfree life) and then into the car, up to NH, where we went on a tour of the Zimmerman House. It was AWESOME. Just really beautiful. I don't think I can go into it all right now. We couldn't take pictures inside but if we could, I would have stayed in the kitchen taking pictures of every single thing. Walked around the museum. Bought stuff at the gift store (Frank Lloyd Stained Glass Windows Coloring Book. YES.) Made our way back to Quincy, where I made him open all of his birthday presents. (Three old FLW books, the LEGO set for Fallingwater, and a pillow from Stitchagram that is all pictures of Kiki & Roo. It made him cry. Which made me cry. So then I sobbed. And then we put the pillow on the bed and Kiki slept on it. Are you kidding me?) We ate frozen burritos & chicken nuggets for dinner, fancy I know. AND THEN.... We had a birthday party! It was small. Ten people? But all awesome people. Karaoke, Cat Dad Cake, snacks, dancing. Good times. I think he felt loved,which is the point of birthday parties.

SUNDAY: Woke up late (9), left the house dirty. Went to the flea market and SCORED. Went out for breakfast with some of the family. Stop by another friend's house on the southshore. Finally made it home, made sandwiches, and relaxed on the couch. I was asleep before 9:00 pm.

MONDAY: HIS ACTUAL BIRTHDAY. Cat Dad is finally thirty! He went to work, I read a book on the back porch in the sunshine. Birthday dinner? A pitcher of Sangria and three dozen oysters. So you can figure out what dessert was.

He never liked birthdays before me.

So it's been a couple of weeks

And as we suspected, the feelings have changed. Of course, we miss Roo. I think we always will. But the overwhelming urge to breakdown and sob has finally subsided. I think the re-arrangement of the whole apartment helped, as I was seeing her ghost everywhere: at the food bowl, on my pillow, etc etc etc. Now we can look at the pictures of her all over the fridge and smile while we get a little teary.

Kiki seems to be adjusting to her life as the only cat. We have discussed getting another, but it's hard to know what is the best thing. Kiki is fifteen. She has been with other non-sister cats before, but I can't say she ever really liked them. I mean, maybe the cat roommates in college cause they were all young at the time. It's hard to say. Of course, we humans would love another furry baby, but we are fully aware that Kiki got the short end of the stick since Roo was so sick, and if we brought home another cat now, she would have to share the attention again... BUT she would have a catpanion to spend her time with.

I WISH SHE COULD JUST TELL US IF SHE WANTED A KITTY. Maybe she would like a kitten to terrorize.

Do you have any experience with introducing a young cat to an old cat?

I am changed by the past week.

I feel a hollow spot. I don't want to smile. I don't want to listen to hip hop. I feel acutely aware of things in my life that make me unhappy. My eyes look different.

I got a call today that Roo's ashes are ready to be picked up.

I saw a bird with it's wing mangled and stuck in the middle of the road. All the cars in that lane kept swerving to avoid it, when really it need to be put out of it's misery. I almost turned around to do it. Instead I got home and sat in my sister's car in my driveway and cried.

Am I supposed to get an urn? Should I sprinkle her ashes somewhere? No place seems appropriate. I could put her ashes into ink and get a tattoo of her face. So far that makes the most sense. Anyone want to buy me a tattoo?

The only things that I get any sense of relief from: listening to the 69 Love Songs, watching 90210 (yes, the new terrible one) and thrifting. Since I've had a terrible cold, there's been less bourbon drinking, which is probably okay, but man, it sucks to sit here with my feelings and really FEEL them. Bourbon is good numbing agent.

Kiki and I have been exchanging meaningful glances. We both know this is going to be an adjustment.

Kiki.

She seems listless. I think she is enjoying having our full attention, but there is this sadness on her face. The cats didn't sleep together, they barely ever sat next to each other (usually I forced them). I mean, they did when they were little, but it's hard for me to remember a time when they were cuddly with each other except for in the first few months I had them. Mostly, they fought. HARD. Like cartoon style cat fights, rolling balls of fluffy limbs, hissing and growling, fur flying. Usually they both had scabs after. And I think that's how they liked it. I know it's been hard on Kiki, watching her sister get sick, and having no one to really get rowdy with. Sometimes I think she would like a young cat to beat up. But at the same time, fifteen seems like a good age to be an only cat. I don't know. I just worry that when I go back to work tomorrow she will lay in the closet all day, feeling lonely. And I don't want that. Maybe I should get her some fish to stare at.

We haven't washed Roo's scarf, or the blanket she decided was hers. We put them on the two chairs that Kiki frequents the most, and she has been sleeping with them. I hope it gives her comfort. As for us, we have determined that in order to move on and not keep thinking we will see Roo sitting there, we need to re-arrange the everything. Every thing. Which will be tricky because our apartment is only so big. Also, we probably should not renew our lease. (we were thinking of not renewing anyways, so this is even more of an incentive, I guess. Or the opposite? What if she haunts this place? Maybe I want to remember? I DON'T KNOW. All I know is I need to chop my hair all off.)

I am basically all fucked up over this.

I took this polaroid on Friday. The sister cats, enjoying the sunny porch together. I am so heartbroken. I know the pain will start to fade, but I will never stop missing my Roo. Poor Kiki, alone after fifteen years of being with her sister every day. The whole thing is so sad.

RIP my sweet girl, we will always love you.

I can't help but notice

just how FUCKED this country is. I mean, what the fuck is up with all these old white men who think women are stupid and need to be told what they are allowed to do with their bodies? It's fucking INFURIATING. Notice, please, that they are all republicans. So if you are voting republican, you are basically encouraging this.

I don't want to get political, but I just don't know how anyone with their RIGHT MIND can agree with the bullshit these assholes are spewing.

IN OTHER NEWS, we got word from our vet that he will no longer be practicing in the clinic we've been going to. He didn't say why, but I can imagine it's because the other doctor in the office (who owns it) seems like a villian from a Disney movie (props to Cat Dad for that description, which is eerily accurrate) and doesn't seem to have a kind bone in his body. I recently read the yelp reviews for the office and I was not surprised to find mostly bad reviews EXCEPT for the ones that were about our beloved Doc. Luckily he will be at a different office alternating Saturdays until he gets a permanent spot again, so he will still be able to see Roo. Also now that I know he has more time on his hands, maybe he will be willing, when IT needs to happen, to make the trip down to Quincy rather than us having to force her into a box and suffer a long car ride on the way to the end. I would like for the whole process to be as painless and easy as possible for all parties involved, and ultimately I think it would be good for Kiki, too. I think? I don't fucking know.

SIGH.

It's a little too much.

My emotions are running high, and I am feeling extremely anti-social. I remember these feelings, all too well. It's hard, but I am older so it should be easier, right?

I am trying to get stuff done. After all, the to-do list is never ending, but on these days off, I find myself stuck in this rut. The rut is the couch. Also, Charmed. Or some other mind numbing show that I can completely tune out to. In lieu of turning the set on yesterday, when I needed to stop thinking and moving, I sat on the bed and finally finished Michael Ian Black's new book (okay almost, I think I have half a chapter left) but when I got the chapter titled Nibbles, and read through it, I nearly lost it. I was definitely sobbing. So I put the book away for another day. I can't spend the days not at work sitting at home crying my face off, but at the same time, I can't pretend that I don't have these feelings, I can't pretend that I am not SO FUCKING SAD right now, because I am.

The thing is, I know I am a pain in the ass to deal with when I feel like this. I know because I have been told this by various people throughout my life, but also because I am a self-aware adult. Which is why the best thing I can do for my relationships is to keep to myself as much as possible, at least until everything plays out and we are all able to finally find peace.

And in the meantime, I need to locate my god damn rubber stamps and my black ink pad. Can someone tell me where I put them, because I have no idea.

Thankfully I have Childish Gambino to help get me through:


(that one is not explicit. The song is way better with the swears in it, obviously)



DAMN. I love him.

Your Monday is my Tuesday, your Sunday is my Monday.

Yesterday I began to write a post, about how the cats and I came to be the family that we are. I had to stop, as I had a full day of bookstore-working to do, and Sundays are always busy, so there was not time for the tom-foolery of blogging. By the time I got home, I felt drained and defeated by the day, so much so that the only thing left to do was to eat leftovers while knitting and watching the X-files.

I don't know when I will get around to it now, maybe on Wednesday. I don't know if I even feel up to it. Obviously, I am sad. It seems now that I handle my sadness by getting angry instead. In the case of when me and my ex split up, that method worked wonders, or so I believed, in helping me work through the pain I was going through(along with bourbon. bourbon always helps) Anger can be a productive and useful emotion when channeled properly, as can sadness, but for so long I had a hard time channeling sadness into anything other than MORE sadness, so this diversion tactic I have created for myself has protected fairly well over the past ten years or so of my life. Unfortunately, it can't help me now. I can't be angry that my cats are getting old, I can't be angry that Roo is sick. Who am I supposed to be angry AT? Who is to blame? No one, nothing. So this sadness I am feeling, it's turning into anger, and without anywhere to properly aim it, it ends up spewing out all over. I can't be nice. I don't want to make small talk. I don't want to smile, or hear a joke, or listen to you tell me that everything is going to be okay and eventually she will be in a better place, we all will. You don't think I know that? Do you think I am an idiot? Because you better fucking believe that I am NOT. I know what's up. But just because I know does not mean I am not totally and completely heartbroken over this. It's just that I still need to get through the day-to-day: get up, go to work, pay the bills, be a grown up. I can't stay home and cry for a week (even though I might, I do have vacation days...) or drink myself into oblivion (I am doing my fair share, a slight variation on this). oh I KNOW there are so many other worse things happening in the world RIGHT at this very moment, but this is what I am dealing with in my life. And I must keep on keeping on. Thus, my bitch face will be ready at all times to deflect pleasant conversation. Move along, nothing to see here.

If only I could be a troll living alone. In a cave. In the woods

Blah blah blah blah.

their schedule

includes way more naps than I am willing to take.
(I do not like napping, but I do like being lazy while they nap.)

I AM TALKING ABOUT MY CATS.

THE CATS

SMELL AWESOME TONIGHT!

(warm, windy day = open windows that cats sit in, leaving them smelling like laundry that was dried on a clothesline. weird, I know, since they usually smell like potatoes or bread)

monday with a heavy heart

The kitty-coughing fit at 2:00 am this morning was longer than the nights' previous. Poor Roo. There is not much I can do when it's happen, put my hand on her fur and tell her she's fine, but we both know that's not true. When she finally stops and swallows it back, she comes right up to my face and purrs so hard, it breaks my heart every time.

She will let me know when she is ready, I am sure of it. And in the meantime, all I can do is enjoy her as much as possible.

Dealing with mortality fucking sucks.

Find the beauty in the pain.
Find the beauty in the pain.
Find the beauty in the pain.

the past few days

It's been a whirlwind. My niece had a bowling party, we hit some thrifts, and checked out the flea market that I will be selling in next month. It will be my first time peddling wares at a flea and I've got to be honest, I am bit nervous for it! That being said, checking out the space and seeing what is what definitely put my mind at ease. Also knowing that I have the help and support from my fella, who basically has committed himself to helping me with all things vintage, is a great comfort to me.

We didn't spend enough time with the cats. We know it, and they know it. So we are attempting to make up for that.

The big news in the catworld of our home is that we have switched foods. For a long while they were eating Science Diet ZD, for Roo's inflamed bowels and dietary restrictions. When her kidneys starting failing, we switched to the KD line of Science Diet. Both kitties were/are HUGE fans of the dry variety, and for a little while, they were pretty into the wet food. But in the last couple weeks, neither of them expressed much interest in the wet. I found solace in the fact that NEITHER of them liked it, and that it wasn't just Roo getting sicker. I checked in with our beloved vet, Dr. Tubman (we just call him TUB MAN) and he confirmed what I already knew: at this point, the most important thing is that the little sick cat keeps eating, so if we switched her to a food that she liked, that was fine. I did some research, double checked my findings with Tub Man, and now the girls are enjoying a variety of flavors again. After two years on severely limited diets, the same food day in and day out, obviously these cats are PSYCHED. Poor Kiki, putting up with her sister's needs so patiently all this time, has turned into a bully when it comes to the food bowls. She can't get enough, and we, of course, go along with it. Both of my lovely kits have the fattest bellies they've had in quite some time, and really, it's a wonderful feeling.

As sad as I feel sometimes about the whole thing, it's pretty awesome to spoil someone rotten in their golden years, all the while knowing that when it gets too bad, I will get to make the call, and the ending will ultimately be peaceful and painless. It has me thinking about how we, humans in America, deal with the end of life. I hope when it's my time, it will be peaceful and painless and not drag out for much longer than it should.

Okay. Time for dinner. Stayed tuned for pictures this week. I PROMISE.

today.

This is the date that we chose as our "official" anniversary. Our first date was three days long, and then the two weeks that followed we tried to play it cool while both knowing full well that this was it. So, if memory serves correctly (which is highly debatable), the day we became began going steady, was the twentieth fourth day of February. Since the anniversary of our first date, Valentine's day, and this day all fall with a few weeks of each other, February is the month of love around here. That, combined with this crazy feline love, make for a pretty intense emotional climate, lemme tell you.

We are enjoying our lazy day, recording songs, cooking foods, enjoying afternoon libations, and trying to live in the moment that is this lovely day in our lives. Pretty lucky, we are.

I was going to make a post full of pictures, but I want to knit and watch netflix and get cozy with my best friends.

So you get this instead:

insta-cats

some of my favorite snaps of the girls from the past couple weeks.

Here is one photo of two cats.

(from two weeks ago)

How to differentiate between Kiki and Roo:
Roo = white moustache
Kiki = white goatee

Also Kiki is now bigger than Roo (used to be the other way around before Roo got the sick) and Roo has two different color eyes. If it's too complicated for you, or you are lazy, feel free to refer to both of them as KIKIROO, which is what my sister does.

Wednesdays are for this.

Watching hours of Law & Order while knitting with a cat on either side of me. This is why I work my forty hour week in four days instead of five, so I can make sure I have an extra day off to spend quality time with my two best friends. (and supposedly to update my shop and prep for the flea market next month, OH YEAH I should probably get on that...)

Kiki jumped up and sat next to Roo. Then the unthinkable happened, something I haven't seen in fourteen years. Roo started giving Kiki a bath. I filmed it. Eventually I will inundate this blog with pictures and videos, I promise.

They know their time together now is precious, I think. There's has been a lot more spats, trailing each other, and dirty looks when one cat is getting the attention that the other wants, but also, quiet moments together on the couch, enjoying the unmade bed, watching the bird feeder side by side. It is so touching and heartbreaking. I mean, they are fifteen years old. They have been together their entire lives. A fifteen year old cat is like a seventy-three year old person. If my sister and I spent every day of our lives together until we were in our seventies, I imagine we would have a pretty unique and complex relationship, so why shouldn't Kiki and Roo?

Happy Valentine's Day!

I will spend this morning at the Oral Surgery department of Mass General, seeing a nerve specialist to make sure that the hack dentist I saw for my root canal didn't cause me permanent nerve damage (I have been numb since december) and then off to work. Tonight will be spent petting the cats and snuggling up to Cat Dad. He is going to love his gift (I won't reveal it here, but it is probably a book) and more importantly, the cats are going LOVE theirs: the Video Catnip dvd! The VHS copy we have is pretty well worn now, and besides, the dvd will be so much better on the flat screen. Also, it has a loop feature for continuous play!

My kitties = my heart.