Sorry ...

I keep writing posts and then get distracted. So, the posts, which I'm sure are profound, witty, and just plain GLORIOUS, don't get published.

Eh ... Here's a cat photo to make up for my suckiness. Mystic totally inspires me to kick back and relax.

Oh Yeah, The Cats

* OMIGAH with the typos... yikes. *

They're back ... and they're bad.

Magic still thinks the baby is for sitting on and that pacifiers are for stealing.

What? I'm just picking up the stragglers.

Mystic is simply bewildered that Nathan may, from time to time, lie on her changing table.

It is MY house, after all.

And the little guy --- well, he hasn't really noticed the cats yet. But, being that he's my son, when he does, I'm sure he'll make this face.

But Warden, I R Innocent

Have you ever tried to red-eye correct an animal photo? Omigosh, it's hilarious. But seriously, why is there no glowy-eye filter for cats and dogs? Mystic and Magic are so hard to take pictures of because of their coats. But Mystic's buggy beautiful green eyes make it even more difficult.


So, here's my day:

Fair 2°F
Feels Like -15°F

And, I would totally love to go outside for a while. Perhaps walk to the library or something. But, eh... it's pretty cold, even for me. It's slick out too. Amazingly, *knock on wood*, I haven't fallen all winter long. I've had a couple of bad slips, but no falls. *knocking on wood like a madwoman*

Three Hours of Hooky

(I hope none of you misread that.)

I was supposed to have a doctor appointment on Monday, but it was rescheduled for this morning. What sucks is that I've carefully scheduled each of my appointments so I don't have to take time off of work. I've only been at my job a little over a year. With our wedding last November and Italy this past September, I'm hurting for vacation time and am very protective of using it for anything but the impending maternity leave.

Today's appointment is scheduled for 9:50. It's one of those urine sample, weight, heartbeat, measure belly, five minute appointments. I usually work from 7:00 - 3:00, so I could have either gone into work for an hour and a half and then come back to the city, or take three hours off this morning --- for a five minute appointment. Hmm. I'm still home ... and in my pajamas at 7:30 and it's so awesome.

This would be ever more enjoyable if I wasn't home alone with my thoughts and my heartburn: The Targo left for work at 6:45 and our cats are still out at my in-laws, where they'll remain until after Thanksgiving. Rumor has it that they're enjoying themselves and keeping everyone safe from random bugs and dust bunnies. Okay, I'm bored; I totally admit it.

Because I miss my kitties, I'll leave you with some Diva pictures on this chilly Friday.

How Bizarre #2

In my dreams, I'm under the impression that I'm a superhero. Awesome right? But for some reasons, all the villains go after Mystic. I just don't understand.

The other night, it was a particularly evil bad guy who stole my kitty. She fought back because she's a biter trooper. Mystic took the guy down and bit the daylights out of him. In true litigious American fashion, the bad guy pressed charges against Mystic.

I stood there helplessly as the police officer put Mystic in an evidence envelope (these are sometimes just manila envelopes) with just her little head sticking out. And then, he put her into a FedEx box.

From my vantage point of on high (wherever the hades I happened to be), I saw this occurring. In a run that may have saved me from the zombies, I went all crazy cat lady on 5-0.

I saved her! I did! And she bit me. And I woke up. And she was biting me.

Because I Can't Stand Myself...

This picture makes me feel seriously less crabby. (It's POURING here.)

How Bizarre

Last night I had a dream that The Targo and I were at the movies. While waiting for the movie, I saw this large nondescript crowd around this strange looking young man. Because I'm nosier in my dreams than in real life, I went to look at the fuss.

The odd man had Mystic! And... he was trying to put a cloth diaper on her! What the hell? I couldn't get past the crowd to get to my little Diva, so I had to jump off the second story, down into the kiddie playground below. The logistics and McGuyver-esque nature of this make no sense to me either, but somehow I got up to where the bad man and my cat were and KICKED HIS ARSE.

I'm sure there are many analyses for this dream. I prefer to think it was a combination of having Mystic step on my head at 3:00 this morning and my anger at the evil Phone-Cable-Interweb conglomerate shutting off our services... because they're inept. But maybe? It's just a crazy pregnancy dream.

Happy Monday.

Bliss

“You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.” ~ Winnie the Pooh

I feel compelled to add that I am diligent about cleaning the counter tops. Please don't be afraid of eating at my house.

Mystic Wednesday: Evolution of a Diva

A story this involved can only be told from both my and Mystic's points of view.

Mystic: What's up? I'm the diva-cat. But look at me: I so deserve it. From what I remember, I was living a pretty sweet kittenhood, when suddenly, I broke my hip. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in recovery at the Anti-Cruelty Society.

Marianne: The Targo and I had lived in our apartment about four months. I was at a fabulous Mexican restaurant downtown for my department's Christmas party when another crazy cat lady and I decided to stop in at Anti-Cruelty. We were walking through the kitty room when a mystery cat reached her little white paw out of her cage and grabbed my leg. I asked to hold her and fell quickly in love.

Mystic: All I did was bite and scratch her. She still wouldn't put me down. *Cuckoo. Cuckoo*

Marianne: That night, I talked to The Targo and gave him a laundry list of reasons we wanted, nay, needed a cat. He acquiesced and we went back to the ACS the next day. Sadly, the cute little black and white cat with the broken hip was nowhere to be found. So, we looked around for about twenty minutes and picked out this cute little grey tabby. And then, I looked in the window display - and THERE SHE WAS!

Mystic: I was trying to hide behind the cat tree, but the jig was up. She found me. But hey - who was that awesome guy with her? He looked pretty cool.

Marianne: So we took the cute little cat with the broken hip home. It took us a few days to name her, but Mystic worked. (It really works with my last name. Nothing works with The Targo's last name, for cry-eye-eye.)

Mystic: The new place was okay. They bought me cat toys, which I could have cared less about, but there was the papasan. It was Heaven in chair form. I did have to put up with that blonde chick following me around, but the sacrifices one makes to live with The Targo.

Marianne: I love Mystic.

Mystic: Life was pretty good for a while. I'd say three years. I was spoiled. They took me on car trips to see my grandmas and grandpas. I got to play with other cats and dogs. There were many hours of playing fetch and then lying in warm laundry.

Marianne: I love Mystic so much. OW! Stop biting me. Oh, okay. If you want to bite me you can.

Mystic: %(@#&)%#&, the bliss that I was living, my life with my Targo and that lady who sleeps in my bed, got turned upside down. Why? Why did they have to bring that other cat to my house?

Marianne: Last September, a former colleague of mine called and said she'd found a black and white kitten. She was allegedly cute and small and a girl. Well, "she" turned into my big-footed, incredibly noisy, boy cat, Magic. I love him too. And he loves me. But, he's not Mystic.

Mystic: HATE!

Marianne: Life is okie dokie with the four of us in our little molehole. The cats fight a little too much, but they're so damned cute.

Mystic: Yeah, this is my life. No more fetch. No more alone time. No more snuggling in the laundry. No more naps with my Targo. And that other cat. *sigh* It's hard to be me.

Mystic Wednesday*: Real Estate Tycoon Diva

When I took this picture, I thought of that show "Flip that House." Mystic's all "I totally got this kitty condo for a song. But you should have seen it back then. Now with my 49ers Gator and the new granite counter tops, I'm sure I can get top dollar."

*Okay, I'm not very bright. It took me until 5 am on Friday morning to realize yesterday was Thursday. Stupid holidays.

Mystic Wednesday - Where's Waldo Diva

Evil Glowy Eyes... Muhahaha

Mystic Wednesday - Life of Leisure Diva

I'm packed.

Let's go, people! I don't have all day.

Mystic Wednesday - Super Diva

She looks GIANT in this picture, but this little cat weighs 8 lbs.

Mystic Wednesday - Laundry Diva

I Got Nothin'

Shortly after we got Mystic, I became resigned to the fact that I was indeed a crazy cat lady. I embraced it. Cuddled it. Shared my pillow with it.


As such, I began to compulsively buy things for Mystic. Anyone who has ever made a cat's acquaintance knows that cats are not really into anything you would buy for them. In fact, they probably wouldn't be into cat food if they had thumbs to operate the George Foreman grill.


Aside from the 2,000 catnip toys, scratching posts (um, she's de-clawed), and toy mice, I decided to buy Mystic a cat bed. Having observed her love of the papasan, the dining room table, and the futon, I should have known this wouldn't take. And also, she slept with us almost every night. But still... I thought a bed would be a good waste use of my money. Heh.


Oh... I saw a cute pink one! A white one that was all faux-fur-ish. And suddenly, perfection! A bed that resembled a snow-leopard pelt. Black and white! It would match my cat and I could let it get dirty and not care. Perfecto!


No.


Mystic was terrified of this thing. She wouldn't go near it. I used to purposely throw hair ties (her toy of choice) into the bed to see if she'd go into the bed to get them. She'd arch her neck as far as she could to reach the hair ties, and never-ever-ever make contact with the bed. It was obviously contaminated with kitty Kryptonite or something. If she would play in the general vicinity of the cat bed, she'd be careful to not make contact with it. And if she did - Dear Lord - she'd jump out of her skin.


Imagine my surprise when New Cat showed interest in the bed. Of course, after living on the mean streets for goodness knows how long, a soft cat bed was probably a dream come true.


Mystic, being the diva that she is, couldn't handle that.

I'm evil. E-VILLLLLL...

Nothing like sibling rivalry...

So Ugly They're Cute

There's something cute about pitiful animals. A good example of this is the Ugliest Dog (click at your own risk) in the World competition. (After going to that link, I'm not sure that's a good example. *shudder*) Now really... Would they have the ugliest person in the world contest? I think not. In fact, the organizers would probably get sued.

But pitiful animals? That's a whole other story. (Note: I didn't do the Midwestern "a whole 'nother" because I think that's almost as bad as saying 'addicting.' Again Blogger - that's NOT a word!)

Take the Targo's parents' dog. This is Brutus:


Let me tell you about all of the issues Brutus has. He's got a genetic disorder that causes his eyelashes to point in. He's had both of his back knees rebuilt. And, look a little bit closer.


Yes, that dog is incredibly cross-eyed. He's so homely it's unbelievably cute.

Then there's Mystic. My baby. The Diva. She's so pretty and fastidious. She's got some issues too. When we got her, she had a broken hip. The "vets" at anti-cruelty had to shave off the ball part of the joint, so her little hip bone just sits in the socket. She runs and plays like a normal crazy cat, but she bows that leg out when she walks. She also suffers from feline acne. I ignore that. But look closer.

That is one cock-eyed cat! When she stares at you, you can totally tell. But, when she's spacing out, her eyes each have their own agendas. Do you think it makes her cuter? I do. Sort of. One thing's for sure, it makes her way harder to photograph!

New Arrival!

Mystic has a baby sister! While she's - sadly - another kitty cat, we're pretty excited. A friend of ours found her cruising the streets of the South Side. She's got some scratches on her nose and her ears, so we're pretty sure she's seen some action. Regardless, she's been sweet as can be so far.


Yes - she's black and white! I have a problem ... I do.

Missin' my homies on the South Siiiiide!


Mystic - WTF? Who are you and why are you wearing that ribbon? And get the F off my futon!

New Cat - Back off, Biatch! I've still got fingernails - and a glock.

I'll Have Some Poison with That

I'm admittedly obsessed with my cat (see About Me section). Mystic is a strange cat. I'm sure a lot of cat owners say that about their cats, but she's really odd. She's the most dog-like cat I've ever seen. She loves to play fetch, she comes when called, she is constantly in the room with people (never hiding ~ from anyone), and she responds to some commands. This is all true! Ask anyone! **shifty look**

One of Mystic's favorite activities is to bring us strange things to play fetch with. It started with paper and spread to anything that could be thrown. It's inspired the Targo and I to play a game called "What's the strangest thing you've taken out of Mystic's mouth?" I thought we'd hit the pinnacle with the plastic knife (where the hell did she get that?), but Oh NO! One day she brought me a dime to throw.

Since then, we've made efforts to kitty-proof our house. We're already those people not allowed to have paper! Anywhere! Within kitty reach! Because she eats it. She doesn't just shred it - no no no - the entire role of toilet paper disappears with just remnants on the floor. But I digress - our efforts have been outstanding. We've engaged in a lot of back-patting because she hasn't eaten toilet paper, paper towels, newspapers, bills, etc. in a couple of months. We're the best kitty parents ever!

And then I was sick with a cold last week. While lounging on my futon, feeling sorry for myself and guarding my tissue from the paper-vore cat, I played an hour of fetch with a hairband. At some point she got bored and brought me something new. I picked it up without looking and was about to throw it when I stopped. What in the world? NO! No no no no! Thank you for the blister pack of poison, but I will not play fetch with Dayquil! I draw the line right here!