Tag Archives: Fabian

“Let’s Be Brave and Search Alone-Together”: Q’s 7 & 8

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My friend, Tia, has started a tumblr (inspired by a production being put on by a local theatre company) encouraging folks to go on an Identity Scavenger Hunt.  And in her rallying cry of “let’s be brave and search alone-together” (which I love love love love) – I’m all in.  And I encourage you to play along as well! Over the next 30 days or so, Tia will be posting a question or two a day from the famous Proust Questionnaire on the tumblr.  I’ll be doing my best to keep up and answer the questions here; my approach will be to not think too much about any one answer and to go from the gut.  You can answer the questions on the Identity Scavenger Hunt tumblr, on your own blog, in your journal, in your head, or feel free to e-mail answers directly to the lovely Tia at theatretia@gmail.com – she may want to use some of your answers in different ways in the future!

7. What is your greatest extravagance?

Bedding. I love bedding. I have alluded to this love ever so slightly three times before, but never in-depth… so here we go.

At the end of a long day, I want to be enveloped by a comfortable, beautiful space where I can truly relax. If you can’t feel good sinking into your bed at night, what can you feel good about? Plus switching up bedding is the simplest way of changing the look of your bedroom – and I am easily bored and like to inject new colors and patterns into a space that essentially stays the same in all other ways. A prettily made bed also makes me feel like I’ve got my *ish* together every time I look at it, even if I don’t really – which is why I make my bed every day. That being said, I don’t always go for the fancy stuff. And I love having brightly colored polka-dotted or printed sheets contrast a paisley patterned quilt or muted, sophisticated duvet.

I think in some ways, the hoarding of bedding stems from a period of my life when I lived in a not-so-cat-friendly group house and Fabs had to have bedroom access at all times because her food, water, and litterboxes had to be in my room (gross…I know). Due to a urinary tract infection, Fab had a number of accidents on the bed (gross…I know) – and then continued occasionally doing that even after the UTI cleared (gross…I know!!!). Thank goodness my mattress was protected, but I needed back-up bedding so that I could clean things up and still sleep in my room vs. waiting for bedding to be washed and dried to sleep in my own room. Now that I live by myself, the KitBit’s necessities are in more fitting locations around the apartment and she does not have access to my room unless I’m in there with her.  Despite the fact that compromised bedding has long since worked its way out of rotation, the need for ALL OF THE BEDDING remains.

So now that I’ve said the gross things…here’s the pretty bedding!

The current hotness #forsheetsandgiggles

Spring 2015: The current hotness; quilt pattern close-ups and the hot pink polka-dotted sheets it is currently paired with. Current total pillow count: 8 pillows. #forsheetsandgiggles

Spring/Summer 2014 favorite - peacockin' y'all; also the quilt came with three pillows. #forsheetsandgiggles

Spring/Summer 2014 favorite – peacockin’ y’all;  the quilt came with 3 pillows. Total pillow count: 7 pillows.  #winning #forsheetsandgiggles

Favorite winter bedding. #forsheetsandgiggles

Favorite winter bedding OF ALL TIME – I may have two of these duvet covers because if one duvet cover dies, I MUST STILL HAVE THIS. You can’t see it here, but there is shimmery gold thread used on the designs. And the textures and patterns vary greatly from section to section.  LOVE. Total pillow count: 8 pillows.  #forsheetsandgiggles

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Back-up winter bedding new in 2015 and also how I got 3 more pillows!  Total pillow count: 10 pillows.  10 pillows felt excessive and helped me coin a phrase – #beditor – because sometimes you need a bedding editor. 2 pillows eventually got punted to the living room. #forsheetsandgiggles

8. What is your favorite journey?

This life. Or the band. But probably this life.

These Are My Confessions: Sometimes I Have To Find The Happy

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These Are My Confessions may become a series wherein I admit things that I should probably not put on the internet. But you only live once so…

I tend to naturally be a very happy person. I’m told that sometimes it’s annoying how happy I seem.  My apparent ease with happiness has been viewed as a defining characteristic of who I am by family, friends, and foes since I was a little kid so it’s something that I have always defined myself by as well.  But growing up – *really* growing up – it’s harder and harder to maintain that constant cheer. I don’t always view the world through rose-colored glasses anymore. And when I do, it’s often because I remembered to put them on before leaving the apartment.

Sometimes happy takes work and sometimes I have to go looking for it.  Sometimes I have to find it.  This was a “find it” week.

This week has been a really rough news cycle. There is a lot of sad and bad and scary going on in the world right now and I’ve been a bit out of sorts myself over the last few days. I’ve been very emotions-on-the-surface and it doesn’t take much to make my eyes well up and for a lump to appear in my throat; overflowing emotions could be brought on in equal strength by watching a little kid lick an ice cream cone OR listening to reports of what is happening in Ferguson.  I’m a person who always feels big feelings. I’m grateful for that – I’d rather feel big than not at all and during marathons of Criminal Minds, it reassures me that I could never be a psychopath. But it can be unsettling and I try to look for the “why” when I find myself in this space.

Maybe it’s the antibiotic I’ve been taking to knock out an infection – I always have stronger reactions to medications than predicted.  Maybe it’s that I’ve been watching Six Feet Under for the first time and I’m absorbing some of the heavier topics tackled in the series.  Maybe it’s certain personal/family stuff.  Maybe I’m too much in my own head. Maybe it’s because over the last week and a half, I’ve spent more time in the apartment due to the foster kittens needing attention and then Fab needing attention (because they can’t get attention at the same time) and as important as all of that is, it often means that I’m by myself. Don’t get me wrong – I cherish alone time; just not a lot of alone time.  Luckily I had some wonderful friends stop by twice this week to help socialize the kittens (which is a real thing) but the invitations to help me with the cats are also extended to make sure I don’t go bonkers by being alone too much and it would be silly of me to not admit to that.

Or maybe I’m simply picking up on the distressing vibe the universe is putting out right now – because I do firmly believe that people can feel that shizz.

Honestly, it’s probably a combination of all of the above.

But because this week has been such a slog, I’ve been looking to find the good. Looking for the happy.  And there is nothing wrong with needing a little external stimulus to jump-start the balancing out of emotions.  So here it is…

A HAPPY LIST FOR A HARD WEEK

  1. The Wumpus – the Wumpus always makes me laugh; this is a ridiculous video and I always find new things to giggle about plus it makes me think of some of my favorite Meg(h)ans who introduced me to it years ago. When in doubt: WUMPUS.
  2. Fabian in snuggle mode – my mainkittenlady has been a snugglebutt lately which is rare and welcome … but also probably signifying that she is feeling insecure due to the itty kitbits… but SNUGGLES!
    Faba the snugglebutt

    The Elusive Snuggling Faba

  3. Gorgeous Gifs – these beautiful gifs created by the Smithsonian Library are so imaginative! I particularly like the elephant balloon.
  4. Sunshine, blue skies, and fresh air – self-explanatory
  5. Ron Swanson Dancing – you can’t be feeling anything but fantastic when watching this; you just can’t.
  6. Visits with friends – I got to hang out with four of my lovely lady friends after work this week plus I got the added bonus of a ladies-who-lunch-from-foodtrucks-date with another favorite friend; I am so lucky to be surrounded by such smart, passionate, talented, hilarious, and caring women. Truly. I am.
  7. Kanye makes it raaaaiiiiin with tots – my cousin did this today and I am so proud.
  8. Kittens doing the (modified) ALS challenge – I got nominated to do this after “liking” a piece that brings up some issues with viral awareness campaigns but also after an exchange with a friend about why it has been awesome for her family; so though I had mixed feelings, I decided that it couldn’t hurt and will be donating a little bit to a charity as well. My twist was to do it with the adoptable kittens. Officer Fuzz Nugget wasn’t having it but Reese cooperated enough and it’s pretty adorable:  
  9. Weekend plans – I’ve got some fun stuff on the docket for this weekend: a big event at the shelter; some BFry time; an overdue haircut; seeing my Fairy Godmother; and more kittens.
  10. 24 Hours of Happy – I adore this site; watching people let loose and dance to a happy song makes me smile – I don’t care how many times I’ve  heard this played on the radio, I will never get sick of this site.

So these are my confessions, my friends.  I’m not always so easy with the happy. And that’s OK because life does not always bring the happy.  But it doesn’t mean you stop looking.

Foster Furmonsters

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I’ve been slow to post this past week because I’ve been busy temporarily expanding my family of one human and one cat to one human and THREE cats!  Well… one cat and two teeny tiny itty bitties to be completely correct.

Meet Almond Joy and Reese (the shelter named their entire litter after candies). Or I as like to call them Officer Fuzz Nugget (The Fuzz) and Reese. Or Little Boy Cat and Little Girl Cat.

 

The Fuzz

Officer Fuzz Nugget conducting an investigation surrounding the untimely demise of a green mouse

 

Reese is a peanut-butter cup of sweetness and purrs.

Reese is a peanut-butter cup of sweetness and purrs.

I started volunteering for the Washington Humane Society back in May working primarily with dogs and in the adoptions office and it is one of the best things I could have jumped in to. My passion for this work is worth a separate post but – for now – suffice it to say that I’m hooked.

So after weekly visits at the shelter for 3 1/2 months – knowing it is a slippery slope – I decided to try being a foster fur-parent.  The main reasons were:

  1. The shelter has been overrun with cats needing fosters for a while now.
  2. I harass other people about fostering and figured that if I’m going to bug friends about doing it, I should try it myself – excuses be damned!
  3. I love Fabian but eventually I want to expand my menagerie so I figure this is a great way to test the waters and see if she’d be OK without any permanent commitments in place.
  4. The news cycle as of late has been depressing so… KITTENS!!

This is why last Wednesday night I brought home two 5 week old 1 lb-ers.

In 5 days we have had 1 visibly sick kitty; 1 emergency vet visit; 1 poop in the cat carrier; 1 vomit session; multiple scratches up and down my legs from kitten-climbing; 1 stinky bathroom (to last a month or more); 1 poop outside the litterbox; 1 planned encounter with Fabian; 2 jailbreak encounters with Fabian; 10 medicine feedings ( 5/kitten); and a lot of pouncing, purring, squeaking, fuzziness, shoulder-perching, pooping, playing, and general kitten-ness.  It’s a lot of work. Kittens are A LOT of work. And they also like to pretend to be boots…

KITTEN-BOOTS!

KITTEN-BOOTS!

…which is kind of painful. Painfully ADORABLE!

Fabs is not taking it so well.  When I got the kittens home the first night, I placed the carrier in the middle of my hallway – which is really just a tiny room where all the doors to other rooms are.  I was told to let my “resident cat” (foster terminology) smell them in this safe situation. The below is footage of this momentous meeting.

Clearly love at first smell/sight/hiss.

The kittens are super duper cute and I think fostering is VERY important; if you take one foster, it saves two lives – the life of the animal you are fostering and the life of the animal you provided space for at the shelter by taking another OUT of the shelter. So technically by taking two kittens, I’m helping to better four lives.  That being said, considering my 500 square foot circumstances and the kitten-realm that my bathroom has become in order to keep them isolated for health/safety reasons – I don’t know how often I’ll be able to do this.  Maybe once a year.  Maybe twice.  But probably no more than that.  Plus it is A LOT of shuffling to do things that are second nature. Like going in and out of my bathroom.

There is a whole new routine I have in the morning now:

  • Wake up
  • Good morning cuddles/scratches with Fab
  • Close Fab into the family room (she’s been heading in there on her own so far…this is good)
  • Get kitten meds from fridge
  • Mix kitten wet food and kitten dry food in tupperware; close up for use later
  • Open bathroom door
  • Get Reese from the kitchen where she has inevitably escaped to
  • Pick The Fuzz up at the open bathroom door where he is inevitably lingering
  • Close bathroom door
  • Look to see if poop in litterbox is healthy
  • Scruff kitten number 1 and give meds; some fighting ensues
  • Scruff kitten number 2 and give meds; some fighting ensues
  • Let kittens run around for a few minutes pouncing etc.
  • Pry kittens off of legs
  • Put kittens in carrier and place carrier in hallway
  • Move kitten food dishes, kitten toys, and kitten bed away from tub base and take step stool out of bathtub (placed there in case a kitten somehow got into the tub and needed help getting out)
  • Shower while contained kittens cry
  • Do as much primping/prepping for the day as possible as contained kittens cry
  • Put kitten food and fresh water in dishes and move everything in the Bathroom Kitten Suite back to kitten-ready positions as contained kittens cry
  • Put carrier back in bathroom and close bathroom door
  • Unleash the kittens
  • Supervise feeding for a few minutes making sure there are no fights and no one kitten gets all the food
  • Sneak out of bathroom while kittens are distracted by food
  • Continue getting ready until the bathroom is needed again
  • Sneak back into the bathroom hoping kittens are still distracted by food
  • Get Reese from the kitchen
  • Get The Fuzz from the bathroom entrance
  • Do make-up while kittens treat legs as trees; try to hold off on mascara until kittens are pouncing on one another away from legs
  • Pry kittens off legs
  • Get eye-makeup remover and re-do mascara (wash, rinse, repeat)
  • Take one last look around at bathroom and make sure all things that can be done are done
  • Pry kittens off legs
  • Close bathroom door
  • Open family room door
  • Let Fabs sniff/hiss at where the kittens have been; including hands
  • Give Fabs treats and pets if she wants them
  • Remember one last thing in the bathroom
  • Close Fabs in the family room
  • Open bathroom door
  • Get Reese from kitchen
  • Get The Fuzz from bathroom entrance
  • Close bathroom door
  • Brush teeth, grab earrings, get lipgloss, take rings off holder or whatever other thing I forgot to do previously
  • Throw tinsel ball into corner away from door and sneak out of bathroom
  • Close bathroom door
  • Open family room door
  • Say bye to Fabs
  • Leave while contained kittens cry

It’s kind of exhausting. And even going to the bathroom is a challenge.  Let me tell you, it is an interesting thing to be going about your business while a kitten scales you in attempt to sit on your lap or perch on your shoulder…

But it will be worth it when these two little balls of fluff and energy get to go to a forever home; I’m hoping they’ll get to go together because watching them play and cuddle is awesome and they clearly benefit from one another’s company…

 

Almond Joy (foreground) and Reese (background) first night in their Bathroom Suite at The Apartments of Eternal Christmas

Almond Joy (foreground) and Reese (background) first night in their Bathroom Suite at The Apartments of Eternal Christmas

 

…and I am convinced that Fabian turned into a semi-psychopath because she didn’t have a friend. So let my little demon feLion Fabian Raven be a warning to you all: if you get a kitten, you might as well get TWO kittens.  And if you are looking for two right now, I have some that would love a forever home with you!

The Kindness of Strangers

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I should have known that things were going to be “off” at the Apartments of Eternal Christmas this week as soon as I saw this:

Oh. No.

After 1 year and 9 months of solo living, I have done the thing I have been fearing most: I locked myself out of my apartment while going down to the laundry room.

You see, I am paranoid about always having my keys and my phone on me even if I’m just running downstairs for 2 seconds. I don’t ever leave my apartment unlocked and I always make sure keys are in hand before leaving. I guess I was a bit distracted due to preparations for kittens (more on this later) so I did not realize I was without my keys until I was 3 feet from my door – which was far enough away that when I turned around, I could not reach the door before it slammed.

No keys. No phone. Just dirty laundry, detergent, and quarters.

One of the things I like about my apartment building is that people are polite but private. I don’t know why but not really knowing my neighbors or feeling pressure to know my neighbors has been in the plus column. It’s the introverted-extrovert in me, I suppose. So I was less than pleased when I realized I was going to have to knock on doors of people I did not know for assistance. The universe was at least conspiring to be sure that I wasn’t in my usual laundry room state (read as: no bra, slippers, and acne cream) so that when I knocked on a stranger-neighbor’s door, I didn’t have to be ashamed of being locked out while awkwardly-yet-strategically crossing my arms in front of my chest to poorly hide the bra-less-ness.

I hear the TV on in the apartment directly under me, so I knocked on the door. The dog barked and I waited a moment but nobody came. So I knocked again.  And this is how I met Neighbor Paul – formerly known as the-guy-who-impressively-and-enthusiastically-washed-his-car-in-a-thunderstorm.

When I told him what happened, he gave me his phone in order to call our property manager.  But he didn’t have the number. However the universe ALSO conspired to have me locked out on a day when repair flyers had been distributed so our property manager’s number was everywhere.

Now not only did Paul give me his phone for that call but – because our landlord did not pick up – he insisted that I keep the phone for 30 minutes until I got a call back, told me to do my laundry, and said he’d find me later.  And not only did he find me later sitting on the front stoop waiting for The Unlocker to arrive, but when he found me, Paul brought me booze.

We chatted about the apartment building, the neighborhood and had started to scratch the surface of work when The Unlocker in the form of Edwin The Repair Man arrived and my new neighbor-friend and I parted ways.

BTW – Edwin is my favorite repair man and he gets called to do everything from repair leaky sinks to SCARE RACCOONS OUT OF PEOPLE’S APARTMENTS. For serious. He once got a call from folks on the first floor after a raccoon wandered in because they had left their un-screened window open. Very concerned, I asked him if he called animal control. He said “No. I just make LOUD noise.”  Edwin is also very sweet and super friendly so only after many repairs and conversations – and now one unlock – did he finally tell me that my demon-cat scratches repairmen when I am not around. He felt the need to stress that it only happens when I am not here.  I digress…

Anyway, I now sit in my apartment WITH my keys, a Straw-ber-rita, and with a new friend made; and I am once again impressed and touched by the kindness of strangers.

YES.

YES.

 

 

These Are My Confessions: Bugs and Bedding

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These Are My Confessions may become a series wherein I admit things that I should probably not put on the internet. But you only live once so…

I’m not going to beat around the bush here. My apartment has bugs. More specifically, my kitchen has bugs. It has had bugs for a little bit of time now. I say “bugs” but they are roaches. Which makes my skin crawl so I’m going to keep saying “bugs” so maybe you’ll picture ladybugs or fireflies or butterflies… which is not what I have in my apartment. I have roaches bugs.

When it became more than just one or two here and there (which is to be expected in an urban setting), I reported the issue to my landlord. This was back in mid-winter and that call resulted in  The Apartments of Eternal Christmas being fumigated. It also resulted in an epic car breakdown with The KitBit* in tow and a Blanche DuBois style relying-on-the-kindness-of-strangers situation as I was on my way to the BFry’s to wait out the fumigation. It may have resulted in this Facebook post:

Sometimes/And Then Sometimes: A Personal Essay - posted to Facebook on February 17th, 2014 - because I was blogging before I had a blog...

Sometimes/And Then Sometimes: A Personal Essay – posted to Facebook on February 17th, 2014; because I was blogging before I had a blog…

 

Bugs had never been a problem in the whole year+ I had been living in my apartment and I am not a dirty kitchen-keeper (because aside from the occasional tartlet I rarely cook) plus there was construction happening on the apartment below me so I had hope that this was a one-time anomaly. And things died down.

Literally. Bugs died and I would find them down on the floor.

Now, I’m a pacifist and the kind of person that likes to catch-and-release but finding bugs dead-as-a-doornail was oddly satisfying. Gross. But satisfying. And all was quiet on the apartment front for a time.

Then a few weeks ago, they started again. The BFry and I returned from a lovely evening out and immediately had an epic battle vs. approximately 20 bugs. 20 OF THEM.  And because I can’t squish things, the BFry did all the swatting and smacking and smooshing while I stayed out of his way. My preferred method of bug destruction is to catch them in a disposable cup and then run to the bathroom to flush them down the toilet before they can crawl out, throwing the cup away afterwards.  I don’t know what that says about me…

Anyway, I reported the buggy-ambush to my landlord and he sent someone the next day to put down traps. And about a week later, Faybsuh-laybsuh-little-layduh* and I had to evacuate to once again head to the BFry’s for what I like to call a Fumigation Vacation; Fabs* enjoyed herself, as you can see:

What a lush!

LUSH

 

I, again, had hopes that this would clear up the problem at least for a while.  No such luck.  There has been some calming of the issue, but not enough. Never enough.

And so on the evening of July 23rd, no longer relying on the landlord and armed with self-bought sticky-traps and cat-safe poison-traps, I waged war.

I am the 300. I am King Leonidas.  And the bugs are my Persians circa 480 B.C.

 

This is what I look like in my head as I am laying those bug traps down. (© 2007 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.)

This is what I look like in my head as I am laying those bug traps down. (© 2007 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.)

 

After arriving home close to 9pm, I placed those traps around the kitchen.  And in the process, flushed at least 3 bugs down the toilet. But I’m out of solo cups so have been using an empty paper towel roll and I trap bugs inside the column to then transport them to their watery fates which is MUCH harder than the cup method.  It was rough. And I did it all in heels. Adorable Crown Vintage t-strap 4″ heels; who says women can’t do it all?!

After I was satisfied with the strategic placement of both kinds of traps and felt I had killed enough for one evening, I treated myself to a 2003- freshman-year-of-college-throwback whiskey-sour. Complete with star-shaped ice cubes, an orange glitter swizzle-stick – a #fauxdult move if there ever was one –  and apparently a bit too much whiskey.  I think this was somehow influenced by feeling like I could “do it all” and since “Do It All” was actually the motto of my conservative Catholic alma mater during my freshman year (I know, right?), I was feeling a touch nostalgic.

As I slowly became tipsy, I remembered that I wanted to get Faba-face* a set of bowls that sit off the ground so as not to attract buggy attention.  And I started browsing Amazon because I have Prime and you can’t hate on free shipping.  Then, just to check, I migrated to Overstock.  And then I started looking at sheets. Because I was sent that bedding coupon…

And so it happened that in a full-on whiskey-sour fog of sweet-and-tart regret, I bought #ALLOFTHESHEETS.  Seriously.  I thought it was appropriate to purchase three sets of polka-dotted sheets in various pastel colors along with pillowcases and a food/water bowl set for my cat.

I mean – this is the kind of bounty a grandma would give her cat-loving tween granddaughter for Christmas:

 

3 pastel polka-dotted sheet sets, one cat food/water bowl system, and a set of white pillowcases for good measure.

3 pastel polka-dotted sheet sets, one cat food/water bowl system, and a set of white pillowcases for good measure.

 

So while some may get drunk and make booty-calls or call up exes, I imbibe in celebration of waging war on bugs and then purchase sheets that no self-respecting adult woman would want to sleep on and things for my cat.

These, my friends, are my confessions.

* The cat, Fabian Raven Ittameh Bittameh Kittameh The Duchess of Things, has many, many nicknames.

Update: since July 23rd, the occurrence of bugs has greatly decreased but I’m not getting cocky about it yet…