i'm new to this and don't know how to edit my blogs to fix my spelling mistakes once they are posted. and if i did, i'm pretty sure i'm too lazy to fix them anyway. so, this post is to acknowledge that, yes, i know the difference between their and there, and no, i am not illiterate.
thank you, and have a splendid day.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Good Bye with a Bang
here's a little ditty about my last day in my former townhome.
i had lived there six and a half months, and every week was a new adventure. if it wasn't a leaky ceiling, frustrations with my neighbors, broken appliances, or lack of parking during peak gay-bar-down-the-street hours, it was just general discontent with the drab 1970s layout and lack of windows and earth to call my own.
so, when i received a notice that my lease was expiring, i jumped in to action. found an adorable little house with a garage and 3/4 of an acre to do whatever i fancied with. oh, how i loved my new house, and oh, how i couldn't wait to leave my old place behind and start my glamorous new life in my darling cottage.
having moved two other times in the past 3 years, there were certain things i was dreading... of these the most was the transportation of my sweet little angels, trixie delite and lulu baxter. they are my cats. deal with it.
although my last move was seriously 1/8 of a mile away, it was dramatic to say the least. lulu baxter clung to the back of boyfriend's cargo van yelling like something not of this earth. if i remember correctly, trixie delite peed on my lap.
my fears would prove to be valid.
boyfriend said "we don't need to dig out the crate. they'll be fine."
i said "are you sure? don't you remember the last time?"
boyfriend said "i'm pretty sure digging out the crate would be more of a pain then just putting him in the car."
exhausted after a long weekend of hauling furniture, clothes, and the rest of my personal belongings, i reluctantly caved. we backed the car to the front door (conveniently, my parking space was 6 inches from the threshold) and gave ourselves a short pep talk. The plan was for each of us to grab a cat, bee line to the car, and shut the doors as soon as possible.
september, traditionally, in florida is a pretty hot month. this had several ramifications. the first being that it would be impossible to ride with the windows down. the second being that my gaybors were having their afternoon martini's by the pool. lucky for them, it would not be a typical gathering.
they were there to witness trixie slash into my throat with her back claws just as i was sitting in the car and shutting the door. thinking that the passenger door was shut and the mission had been successful (my thought process muddied by the burning sensation on my neck and the need to let her go so she'd remove the nails that were still lodged in my skin) i released her.
alas, it was premature. she managed to jump over her sister, who was paralyzed with fear, cut boyfriend in three places, tear his shirt and escape into the parking lot.
having only been on the inside of my screendoor, she ran to the nearest similar entry and started howling like a full grown man in an asylum. never had i heard such a mournful cry in all of my life... not even in the cargo van on the previous move.
i began having a panic attack, gasping for air and crying uncontrollably. we approach her slowly, me with mascara and snot running down my face and boyfriend with a torn, bloodied shirt and pit stains. it is now that i realize that there are eight fabulous people just feet away watching the whole ordeal.
i hear one of them say, "is she hurt??" i hear another one gasp, and yet another one mutter "that's terrible" in a hushed whisper with all consantants accentuated. just when i think it can't get any worse, she bolts into the pool area through a slit in the fence.
i've never been able to figure out the latch on that stupid gate, and being in a panic, this time was no different. one of the boys, who several months earlier i had dubbed the ambiguous asian one, leapt up and let me in. the others stifled their laughter. i continued crying. boyfriend managed to corner and grab the cat, and we managed to get in the car.
driving down the charming brick streets, trixie baxter continued to howl like a man, i continued to sob, and boyfriend assessed the damages and began laughing at me....which, now that i think of it, is his usual response to me sobbing uncontrollably. i guess i tend to do that a lot.
in a cheerful voice, he said "kat, someday, you'll look back and laugh at this". my reply - "i doubt it".
a couple of days later, i returned to the townhouse to hand in my keys and ran into one of the gaybors. I apologized sheepishly for the incident, and he said "oh, i wasn't there, so you don't have to apologize to me. i heard all about it though". at first, i was mortified. and then i remembered i didn't give a shit.
and its been a month, and yes, i am laughing at it now. i hope to stay n my new house for a long, long time. but if i don't, and when i move, i'm pretty sure i'll be finding the kitty crate. and also some kitty sedatives. but those will probably be for me.
i had lived there six and a half months, and every week was a new adventure. if it wasn't a leaky ceiling, frustrations with my neighbors, broken appliances, or lack of parking during peak gay-bar-down-the-street hours, it was just general discontent with the drab 1970s layout and lack of windows and earth to call my own.
so, when i received a notice that my lease was expiring, i jumped in to action. found an adorable little house with a garage and 3/4 of an acre to do whatever i fancied with. oh, how i loved my new house, and oh, how i couldn't wait to leave my old place behind and start my glamorous new life in my darling cottage.
having moved two other times in the past 3 years, there were certain things i was dreading... of these the most was the transportation of my sweet little angels, trixie delite and lulu baxter. they are my cats. deal with it.
although my last move was seriously 1/8 of a mile away, it was dramatic to say the least. lulu baxter clung to the back of boyfriend's cargo van yelling like something not of this earth. if i remember correctly, trixie delite peed on my lap.
my fears would prove to be valid.
boyfriend said "we don't need to dig out the crate. they'll be fine."
i said "are you sure? don't you remember the last time?"
boyfriend said "i'm pretty sure digging out the crate would be more of a pain then just putting him in the car."
exhausted after a long weekend of hauling furniture, clothes, and the rest of my personal belongings, i reluctantly caved. we backed the car to the front door (conveniently, my parking space was 6 inches from the threshold) and gave ourselves a short pep talk. The plan was for each of us to grab a cat, bee line to the car, and shut the doors as soon as possible.
september, traditionally, in florida is a pretty hot month. this had several ramifications. the first being that it would be impossible to ride with the windows down. the second being that my gaybors were having their afternoon martini's by the pool. lucky for them, it would not be a typical gathering.
they were there to witness trixie slash into my throat with her back claws just as i was sitting in the car and shutting the door. thinking that the passenger door was shut and the mission had been successful (my thought process muddied by the burning sensation on my neck and the need to let her go so she'd remove the nails that were still lodged in my skin) i released her.
alas, it was premature. she managed to jump over her sister, who was paralyzed with fear, cut boyfriend in three places, tear his shirt and escape into the parking lot.
having only been on the inside of my screendoor, she ran to the nearest similar entry and started howling like a full grown man in an asylum. never had i heard such a mournful cry in all of my life... not even in the cargo van on the previous move.
i began having a panic attack, gasping for air and crying uncontrollably. we approach her slowly, me with mascara and snot running down my face and boyfriend with a torn, bloodied shirt and pit stains. it is now that i realize that there are eight fabulous people just feet away watching the whole ordeal.
i hear one of them say, "is she hurt??" i hear another one gasp, and yet another one mutter "that's terrible" in a hushed whisper with all consantants accentuated. just when i think it can't get any worse, she bolts into the pool area through a slit in the fence.
i've never been able to figure out the latch on that stupid gate, and being in a panic, this time was no different. one of the boys, who several months earlier i had dubbed the ambiguous asian one, leapt up and let me in. the others stifled their laughter. i continued crying. boyfriend managed to corner and grab the cat, and we managed to get in the car.
driving down the charming brick streets, trixie baxter continued to howl like a man, i continued to sob, and boyfriend assessed the damages and began laughing at me....which, now that i think of it, is his usual response to me sobbing uncontrollably. i guess i tend to do that a lot.
in a cheerful voice, he said "kat, someday, you'll look back and laugh at this". my reply - "i doubt it".
a couple of days later, i returned to the townhouse to hand in my keys and ran into one of the gaybors. I apologized sheepishly for the incident, and he said "oh, i wasn't there, so you don't have to apologize to me. i heard all about it though". at first, i was mortified. and then i remembered i didn't give a shit.
and its been a month, and yes, i am laughing at it now. i hope to stay n my new house for a long, long time. but if i don't, and when i move, i'm pretty sure i'll be finding the kitty crate. and also some kitty sedatives. but those will probably be for me.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
introducing.....
ok so i did it. i finally started a blog. don't know if it'll stick, don't know if anyone will read it... but i did it anyway.
why? cause my dear friend Paul told me i should. i guess i'm easily influenced. i put up a fight...gave a few lame reasons...whined about the thought of having to turn on my computer when i get home after sitting in front of one all day. moaned about the cords stretching across my living room floor (because i'm too lazy to go to the place that sells wireless routers)....
but... Paul said i should. he said he'd read it. and maybe other people would, too. he said he wanted a story everyday. i'm thinking he will be sad to find that things worthwhile of telling in a story don't happen to me everyday...
and then i told my brother i was thinking about it. and i very honestly told him that the biggest thing holding me back was laziness. his reply? and i quote "i think you should not be lazy about this"....
good ol' greg - he's been one of the few people that have patiently read my stories. my adventures if you will. if i actually stick to this, and suck you in to my debacles day after day, you can blame him. or paul. or me. hell, i don't care, i'll just be happy someone's listening...
why? cause my dear friend Paul told me i should. i guess i'm easily influenced. i put up a fight...gave a few lame reasons...whined about the thought of having to turn on my computer when i get home after sitting in front of one all day. moaned about the cords stretching across my living room floor (because i'm too lazy to go to the place that sells wireless routers)....
but... Paul said i should. he said he'd read it. and maybe other people would, too. he said he wanted a story everyday. i'm thinking he will be sad to find that things worthwhile of telling in a story don't happen to me everyday...
and then i told my brother i was thinking about it. and i very honestly told him that the biggest thing holding me back was laziness. his reply? and i quote "i think you should not be lazy about this"....
good ol' greg - he's been one of the few people that have patiently read my stories. my adventures if you will. if i actually stick to this, and suck you in to my debacles day after day, you can blame him. or paul. or me. hell, i don't care, i'll just be happy someone's listening...
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