Maxine Has Left The Building

Remember last summer when we had to put my cat, Boo Boo, to sleep and I was super sad face about it and it totally sucked? Yeah, I had to do it again in November.

After Boo died, my other cat went downhill fast. My Maxine. She was my baby. I adopted her when she was a kitten. I was fresh out of college and had just gotten my first grown up job and rented my first apartment. She was the runt of a litter of farm cats and I could not resist her. She saw me through a lot of difficult times: A broken engagement one month before the wedding, a move to another state where I knew no one, the death of grandparents, the adjustment to married life and a ready-made family.

She was special, is what I'm trying to say.

She was also extremely awful. She peed on the carpet. A lot. So much that the Captain and I had to have it ripped out and replaced with hardwood. She was grumpy. She hated most everyone but me, but insisted on sitting right in their faces in order to fool them into thinking she liked them so she could bite them when they tried to pet her. She chewed up all the ribbons on Christmas presents and then pooped them out for months afterwards. She puked EVERYWHERE.

But I loved her so much.

So when Boo died and she began wandering around the house crying pitifully for hours and then began to eat less, the Captain knew what was coming. I kept myself in denial. Sure, she was 15 years old and was obviously in mourning for Boo. But she would come out of it. I just knew it.

Still, when no one was looking, I would whisper in her ear "Please don't die on me. Not now. Please. I need another year first. I can't take it right now." And Max would look right at my face and it seemed like she understood.

And maybe she did, but she just couldn't do it. Soon it became obvious to even me that she was sick. She was drinking large amounts of water and urinating constantly. Exactly what Boo did at the end. So we took her to the vet and got the same diagnosis when we took Boo. Diabetes.

That was on a Monday. We told the vet we were taking the week to decide if we wanted to treat her or put her down. By Friday, Max had made the decision for me. She could barely walk. She spent hours sitting in front of her water bowl with her head hanging in it. She had lost so much weight in a 5 day period that you could see her hip bones jutting out.

I took the weekend to say goodbye. I held her on my shoulder the way she always loved. She would purr and sleep while I walked around the house talking softly to her for hours. I cried a lot. I had moments when I thought maybe she'd get better, but by Sunday morning I knew it was time.

Max and me in healthier times

So on Monday, almost exactly four months from when Boo died, we took her to the vet. I couldn't bring myself to do it with Boo, but I knew I had to be there for Max. I was her person, her favorite. I couldn't leave her alone at the end.

It was hard. It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do so far in my life. Even now, months later, I still think about those last few minutes. I hate that she was terrified and hurting and I could do nothing but talk to her and tell her I loved her until she was gone.

But it was fast. Just like everyone says, it was over in seconds. One second she was there, staring at my face, and the next she was gone. I was somehow able to not cry until she died, because I didn't want her to see me upset. So at the very end of her life, I was the last face Max saw and my voice was the last she heard. And that brings me comfort every time I think about her.

I got to spend awhile with her afterwards, but it was so hard to walk out without her. The Captain, who had been there with me the whole time, held my hand and took me home. I went straight to bed for the rest of the day.

And I miss her still. I know some people will read this and roll their eyes and say "It was just a cat, not a person". And that is okay, I don't expect everyone to understand. I know it's not the same thing. I've lost family members, I know that pain. This is a different kind of pain, but still just as real. Max was my buddy for 15 years, my entire adult life up until this point, and I will always miss her.

Love you, old lady.

And That's How I Ended Up With My Fingers Glued Together On A Tuesday Night

So I found this new website. It's called Pinterest. Heard of it? Probably not, on account of how I tend to catch these trends way before everyone else does. I'm pretty sure it was just created in the last couple of months, since that is when I found it. And now I'm telling you guys about it because that's how much I care. You're welcome.

Pinterest is this site where people "pin" pictures of things they like or want. It's basically like a virtual bedroom wall or something. Maybe a bulletin board? Ohmygod...pin. I just got that.

Huh.

So when I first found Pinterest, I didn't get what the big deal was. Sure, it's kind of a good resource if you're looking for a new recipe or a craft to do with your kid or whatever. I pinned a few things and then left the site for weeks.

Then I came back to search for some photography that would inspire me on an upcoming shoot I had scheduled.

It was all downhill from there.

This place. It's like crack for women who secretly want to make their own soap and dress like a bohemian and redecorate their home and do crafts that make their friends hate them for how creative they are and make teeny tiny cakes in recycled tin cans (for real...it's out there).

I couldn't stop. Because if I did, I might miss an adorable kitten photo. Or a gorgeous dress that I could never ever fit into.

Suddenly I realized that I hated every paint color in my house and I must redo everything immediately. I became enamored of chalk paint. What the fuck is chalk paint anyway? I have no fucking idea, but I want that shit. I want to slap it on every goddamn dresser I own. And then I want to distress the shit out of those dressers. Then I want to wrap every single present I ever give ever with lace doilies. And then I want to make all my own household cleaners by simply combining 13 other products that I have to go out and buy but who cares because look! homemade fucking cleaner. And then I want to paint my fingernails with every fucking OPI color on the planet and then take a picture of my hand holding the goddamn bottle of polish.

And then just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I discovered the coffee filter crafts. Oh. Dear. God.

If you haven't seen the coffee filter pins out there, go search for them and prepare to be astounded. You can make wreaths. You can make flowers. You can make wrapping paper. There is no end to the usefulness of the wonder that is the dollar store coffee filter.

Some of the projects looked a little hard for an entry level crafter like me. But I found one that looked to be simple.

The coffee filter lamp shade.



All you have to do is scrunch up a filter, dab a little hot glue on the end and stick it to the lamp shade. Do it over and over until the entire shade is covered and looky there...you got yourself a cute little lamp.

I rushed right out to the dollar store and bought the filters. I grabbed an old lamp that I wasn't using anymore, ripped off the shade and set to work. I was giddy with excitement. In a mere 30 minutes or so, my very first Pinterest craft would be completed! I would take pictures and post them here and give a tutorial for everyone asking me how I did it and I'd be all brag facey and It. Would. Be. Awesome.

Ten minutes and six filters later, I had lost feeling in my fingertips on account of the hot glue gun burns. My filters looked more like wilted lettuce than perky flowers. I realized that at this rate, it would take me three hours to finish the shade. I began to think about the fire hazard that is a lamp shade covered in paper and mere inches from a light bulb. I decided that my lamp base would now need to be painted a cute robins egg blue in order to compliment the frivolity of the shade, which would require another trip to the store and more crafty effort.

I got tired. I sat back in my chair and stared into space.

Fucking Pinterest, I thought.

It was then that I realized I had left the hot glue gun sitting on the bare wood of my office desk. It was leaking glue all over the surface, so I frantically wiped at it with my bare hand. Then the screaming began, followed closely by me yelling "My fingers are stuck together! Help me!". I received nohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif sympathy from Captain Carl.

"I told you to just buy a new lamp."

And now I am searching Pinterest for ways to resurface a desktop. I'm pretty sure this can only end well.

p.s. You can follow my boards on Pinterest by clicking here. But you don't have to or anything. I mean, whatever. I don't even care.

p.p.s. I'm guest posting over at The Mouthy Housewives today! I'm giving advice to a woman who's upset about how much her husband likes to masturbate. Among other things, I suggested she dress up like Princess Leia in the gold bikini. So yeah, I'm practically a psychologist now.

The Best Goddamn Birthday Present Ever

So my birthday was this week. I turned 38.

*silent scream*

Let's move on, shall we?

I didn't really do anything exciting to celebrate this year, besides get laid. Holla! The Captain, whose birthday is 4 days before mine because apparently someone just has to hog the spotlight every fucking year, and I decided not to exchange gifts this year. Which is good news and bad news for me. Good news because I suck at gift giving. He probably would have gotten a book about pirate ships. Again. But bad news because I love receiving presents. Luckily, his parents came through for me and got me a kindle and ohmygod I am reading the shit out of that thing.

Anyway, so it's two days after my birthday and I'm getting kind of frowny face because now I'm 38 and all I have to look forward to is turning 39 and then...well, you know. Get ready for a blog post two years from now about how I did nothing but sob and eat two whole birthday cakes, is what I'm saying.

And then? Something amazing happened this morning. I received a totally unexpected and awesome birthday gift from my good friend Kristine at Wait In The Van.

Was it Ugg boots? A new iPhone? A toaster? Shut up, I love toast.

NO.

It was a blog post Kristine put up featuring herself and her best friend singing "Somewhere Out There" in 1989. This thing is so much genius that I assumed she posted it specifically for me and my birthday week. Yes, I get a whole week. I call it every year, so it totally counts.

Click here to go watch it. Maybe save it for later tonight, because once you see it, the rest of your day will seem dull and not nearly as fun.

p.s. Kristine, your vibrato is the stuff legends are made of.

Vindication Is Mine, Bitches

I made it through another New Year's Eve without a hangover. First resolution achieved!http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

I forgot to tell you guys about my company Christmas party. To make a long story short, it was pretty much an exact replica of last year's party. I got drunk. I was obnoxious. I danced. I was practically carried to the car afterwards by Captain Carl.

Except this year? I TOTALLY WON THE KARAOKE CONTEST.

I might have stacked the decks in my favor by begging the president of the company to let me pick my singing partners this year (last year it was a random drawing). And because he apparently adores me, he said yes. So about a month before the party, I asked two of the most fun girls in the office to sing with me. We picked our song and practiced it my cubicle a few times.

What? Don't judge me. I was totally robbed last year and I decided that night that I would do anything in my power to make sure I won the next year.

AND IT TOTALLY WORKED.

We got up there and we sang our little hearts out. We were loud and enthusiastic, which is really the only requirement to be good at karaoke in my opinion. People were clapping and singing along. There was even some audience participation, thanks to the song we picked. There was even a standing ovation at the end. I wanted to yell "That's how it's done, bitches!" into the mic and then drop it on the floor afterwards, but I figured that was going a bit too far.

And then the president came up to announce the winners and I swear to God, y'all, the exact words he said were "I don't think we even have to consult the judges on this one because there is a clear cut winner tonight."

Yep, I did it. I won. Even got a $100 gift card out of the deal. AND! I won a prize in the random drawing giveaway too. Which proves that you can achieve anything you want if you just set your mind to it. And pick the right song.