Sorry to address you in so direct a fashion, but I need to explain why this post may seem a tad out of order. This was going to be the inaugural post on the blog, but of course I got distracted and totally forgot about its existence until I found it in the back of my drafts folder. I still like it, so I’m posting it. If it’s not relevant to you, deal with it.
Hugs and Unicorns,
This is not a Mommy Blog. There is nothing wrong with Mommy Blogs mind you – I love Mommy Blogs! Moms are frickin’ hilarious! – but I am missing an essential ingredient: children. I have only been married for a year, have only been out of college for a year, am still working like a woman possessed to light a fire under my writing career, so children will have to wait until I grow up a little more. Or until we have that fabled “Oops!” moment we are trying to avoid at this juncture in our lives.
That said, I am one of those individuals greatly feared in societies the world over. For centuries, people have walked by those of my ilk and crossed themselves or fired the sign of the evil eye at me, warning their children not to get too close, she’ll put a spell on you and use you in a cauldron filled with bubbling Ichor and toads! Young women especially fear my kind, for it becomes the sad fate of women without families who love these exasperating, furry fluffballs of love and terror.
I am a cat lady.
Seeing as I have no children of my own, the need to write about my pets is obviously second choice, right? They just do the darndest things! And they’re so adorable and furry and smell like rainbows and kitten breath!
Yes, I am of that tribe. I promise I won’t write too much about them on here.
I used to have three cats. Whoa, back up here – I had one cat that had kittens, and the two we kept we weren’t able to give away. I am not a kitten-collector. Although if that ever becomes a paid career, sign me up. Ahem…anyway, I used to have three cats, but one by one they found their way to the happy hunting ground and now I have only one. The most unapologetically precious, precocious kitten to have trotted the earth lives in my house and occasionally graces us with her presence.
Meet The Mimi. Sometimes known as “The Mim” or “ZAMIM!”
Now, I am not one to gush over my pets, ordinarily. I can barely tolerate our dog, and people who regard their pets as children fascinate me because even though I don’t have kids, I was a nanny for many years and I’ve changed enough poopy diapers and wiped enough snot from screaming toddlers to know that no, they are not the same. Animals are way easier.
But Mimi is crazy, and deserves mention in this blog because she does things that leave Mike and me scratching our heads and looking at each other like, did that really just happen? Yes, my dear poppets, it did. Mimi just scaled the side of the house to hang on the window screen just above our bed at three in the morning, wailing to be let in. Yes, that was her on the neighbor’s roof, meowing confusedly for us to get her down while we stand dumbfounded below her, wondering how in the hell did she get up there in the first place? Indeed, it was she who got into the attic using only NOTHING to climb on except voodoo and adorableness.
Gratuitous cat photos:
Her mother was feral, which explains some of her “free spirit” (also known as, “does whatever the hell she wants and is accountable to no one”). This is an attempt to put her on a leash:
But she also knows how to snuggle.
She is truly the Master of the House.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Because I am, and forever will be, The Cat Lady.