Since I just posted my essay, which is about my cats, I decided to supplement it with photos of the aforementioned cats. Also, I have nothing worthwhile to blog about. So, there you go. Cat pictures. Because if you all didn't think I was a crazy cat lady before this, now you have no doubt.
This is Rummy Cat, my fat boy. You can't tell how fat he is, but he is really, really, really fat. We don't over feed him specifically and he is healthy, but he is a chunky little fella.
He takes good pictures because he knows how handsome he is, and he likes having everyone know. I think he could be a cat-food-bag model, but I guess every crazy cat lady thinks their cat is model material.
This is Bollie, who I tend to call 'Mommy's Little Monster'. She is skinny and has big ears, and she kind of looks like a mouse or a bat (without wings). She is generally pretty ugly and awkward, but I love her. She had a really bad bout with some Dermatitis, and her fur is just now growing back right. For a while there, people would just look at her and go "What the hell is wrong with your cat?" This is China, who we usually call 'Chi' or 'Cheese'. She is fluffy and she used to be kind of mean, but she has gotten nicer as time passes. You can kind of see her big foot at the bottom. She has seriously huge feet for a cat, which I love, cause I have size 10 feet myself and maybe I can relate to her a little, or something. Also, they look like snow shoes. What is not to like about THAT?
Hi, Chi.
P.S., since I am trying to make a habit of posting short little snippet 'book reviews' on here, since it is literary-based and I feel the need to prove I CAN READ.
I just read 'Better' by Atul Gawande, and it was awesome. I haven't read any nonfiction in a shamefully long time, but this has hooked me back on the wagon and man, it is a good read. Basically, the author presents three key virtues that he believes are integral to the foundation of a successful doctor : diligence, doing right, and ingenuity. I do feel that it carries over into all health professions, such as nursing, therefore I felt this book was relevant to me. Instead of just describing how these three virtues can be implemented, he brings to the table a plethora of (often heartfelt) real-life examples, from both patients and doctors. It covers a wide range of issues in medicine one on the 'other side' (meaning, one who is not a doctor) wouldn't ever think of themselves. The book comes across as genuine, well-meaning, and informative. I can safely say I enjoyed it!
Having cats has been an enriching experience for me. It seems as though people either love cats or hate them; there is not much in between. I am definitely on the ‘love’ side of the argument, as many know I have three cats and adore them. The experience of having cats is a unique one, and teaches one a lot about responsibility and love. Cats are lethargic beings, and I feel that having cats has definitely taught me to take a break and enjoy just laying around and doing what they do sometimes: a whole lot of nothing.
My personal experience with cats has been a good one. Sure, they have their downfalls every now and again. I know I’ve had my share of frustrations stemming from my furry friends lying across my laptop and schoolbooks while I’m trying to finish important homework. I’ve had the lovely surprise of waking up to spot cat vomit on the newly vacuumed carpet. I have also been perpetually adorned with cat scratches fairly consistently for the past few years. Still, my cats are a great source of joy in my life and I would not trade their company for anything… even a clean carpet.
Each cat has their own personality, much like humans. I personally have three cats, and they are all vastly different. I love each of them dearly, for all of their different personalities. Each cat has their own reactions to daily life, to one another, and to me. I find that it is the things that make them so different are the things that make them so special. I appreciate their different personalities, and could barely imagine my life without them.
Rummy Cat is our little buddy. He is the first one to run to the door when I come home, and he is the cat most often cuddled up in my bed. He is a shorthair, but his fur is thick and dense and soft. His eyes are bright and green and full of expression; he is definitely the most charismatic of all my cats. When someone comes to visit, he immediately runs to them and tries to impress them with his sweetness and playfulness. He is only a year old, but big for his age and very rotund and stocky.
Bollie is his twin sister, but you wouldn’t know it simply by looking at them. They share the same grey fur and green eyes, but the similarities end there. She is tiny, smaller than any cat I’ve ever had, and just as shy as her brother is friendly. She’s very vocal, but rarely uses the typical ‘meow’, instead making a strange little “brrrrt” noise that sounds a lot like a pigeon. She eats as much as any other cat, but in a much different way. She dips her paw into the top of the auto-feeder, and scoops out a few kibbles to eat on the counter. She is a good eater, but remains lanky and has a certain awkward cuteness that grows on you. Although she is quite shy, she is sweeter even than her brother and she loves attention from those she is comfortable with. Bollie loves being held, and has an affinity for curling up on your chest with her head on your shoulder.
Last is China, who we more often affectionately refer to as “Chi” or “Chi-bear”. She is the only longhair in the house; her fluffy white fur seems to be her defining feature. Her feet are large and although she is not a polydactyl they remind me of snowshoes. Her legs, face, ears, and tail are all grayish and striped, and in her age her fur has taken on a brownish tint. She was adopted from Petsmart, and because of this she seems to have a appreciative personality. I can see the gratitude for being rescued in her big blue eyes when she looks up at me.
I took the time to describe my cats to accurately show exactly how I feel about them. They are very special to me, and they brighten my life in a multitude of ways. They are a source of humor; I can recall many a good laugh over them chasing one another through the house, galloping like furry little horses. They are also a great comfort, coming to my rescue when they see I am sad to curl up with me and make me smile. I couldn’t imagine going without the company of my cats, as they have become such a fixture in my life.
The funny stories about my cats are endless. If I had the time, I would have a twenty-page paper about just how silly they can be. Chi-bear gets embarrassed easily, and I remember once she lost her footing and slipped right into the mop bucket full of soapy water. In her shock and horror, she tore through the house with her head low, soaked and embarrassed. I also remember putting Bollie in a little shirt meant for a tiny dog. She responded by slouching down, awkwardly (and with a strange speed for how low she was) creeping backwards, and making my best friend and I hyperventilate and cry tears of laughter. There are so many more stories, but I believe I have made my point. Cats are, in short, the best comedic relief one could hope for in a home.
Cats are definitely a learning experience. Having cats teaches you forgiveness, and to show love despite anger. A cat is a huge responsibility, as you have to change their litter and feed/water then consistently. They make messes and knock things over quite a lot, so there is a lot of cleaning up after them to be done. A cat depends on you for its quality of life, and as a pet-owner you learn to be determined to make that life the best you can. It is akin to being a parent in many ways, as you have a duty to care for them and a joy from raising them.
I know I personally have learned a lot from having cats. I feel that I have become a better, more responsible, more loving person, and I have my fur-babies to thank for it. I know that not everyone loves cats, but I know I love mine and that I want them to remain as happy as possible for as long as possible. They have shaped me so much, and changed my life in a positive way. I am, in conclusion, thankful for the experience of having cats.
I was going to say I didn't have anything to blog about, but I most certainly do. Since Thursday after class, I've had a lot go on! Bullets are my favorite way to express emotion, so... here we go! Since Thursday after class I:
got a car
got an iPhone
I guess that isn't very much, quantity wise, but quality-wise we are talking serious stuff.
Okay, here is a photo of a car that is just like mine, but is not my car specifically. It is a 2002 Chevrolet Cavalier. It only has two doors! The angle makes it look terrible, but really it is a nice little old car. It only has 70,000 or so miles on it, and it has a sunroof that I will never ever use! Also it came with a broken Kid Rock cd, which I thought was a really nice touch. But seriously, my car is boss. I am thrilled. I have already dubbed it the 'Cadavalier', since it is a Cavalier and I thought that was kind of clever. It isn't. I think my favorite thing about this car is the fact that it has keyless entry. I am not yet over the novelty of having a remote for my CAR on my key ring. In other 'I got new stuff' news, I also FINALLY jumped on the wagon and got an iPhone. I would post a picture of an iPhone, but don't you know everyone already has one and knows what they look like. So, in lieu of posting a real photo of an iPhone, like mine (I did not opt to purchase the crochet model, as seen in the photo) I decided to go with posting instead this lovely internet gem. If you want an iPhone, but don't feel like switching service providers, or paying a lot of money for a phone (oh but it's so much more...), you can MAKE YOUR OWN! You can thank me later. Unfortunately, this model doesn't seem to be compatible with apps and your cat might gnaw on it and tear it apart, but HEY!
Anyway, enough blogging for today. Tune in next time for... well, the same boring crap.
Today is the best day of the week for me, being that it is Thursday and this marks the end of my school week. Not that I don't have homework, because I do, but I can do that in my pajamas at midnight if I want (which is probably what's going to happen.) I can say that school is definitely burning me out; waking up early is my least favorite thing to do and I have to do it too often. It's not school itself, it's the getting out of my warm awesome bed and getting up and braving the day. Just not something I enjoy. Anyway, this is going to be REALLY short since I have to start working on my essay. I realize nobody reads this regularly and it's not important, so I'd rather just get to what I need to do as opposed to writing about my mundane existence. Booooring.
"What was the greatest challenge that you faced in the composition--was it: finding a topic? getting the computer to cooperate? adequate development? Whatever it was, explain the challenge in writing and what you did to handle it."
I would have to say that the biggest issue I faced was trying to overcome my writer's block. I got stuck in a lot of places, trying to find the right word here or the right phrase there. I also had issues with my topic, not that I didn't immediately know what I wanted to write about, but I debated all through the paper as to whether or not it was relevant. I don't think my topic reached enough people, or gave enough room for adequate description. I could be wrong, but that's my opinion.
"In another paragraph, explain how YOU reacted to reading other blogs. Did you enjoy it? What it more of a pain and aggravation? What did YOU gain in reading and , more importantly, commenting on the blogs you read?"
I really enjoyed reading other blogs. It was a unique experience, in that I don't usually get to read a lot of other people's work (except for when I was editor of the Literary Magazine in high school; too much of a good thing). It was a nice change.
I'd write more but I am DAMN ANGRY right now (as most people in the class know, cause I can't shut up), cause my dad bought HIMSELF a new car (which is a 2 door little Honda, MY PERFECT CAR) instead of focusing on the huge problem - my carlessness. I wouldn't be so mad if he didn't have a working condition truck already and we weren't "ACTIVELY SEARCHING" for a car for me right now. Why did he say I couldn't have it, you ask? It was "too nice."
Right now I'm in the library because I am pretty sure they are sick of seeing me in the PSC sitting outside the coffee shop. Also because I was seriously just there for over an hour, since I finished my math test in 30 minutes and left afterward. I walked all the way to my Psychology class, and it was canceled again. I guess that's a good thing, technically, but I hate walking all that way for nothing. There WAS bottled Diet Dr. Pepper in the vending machine in that building though, plus the machine took my card without a hitch this time (out of the ordinary), so it wasn't a total loss I suppose. Some guy just came in with a leather old-style vintage hard briefcase. I really wish I had a briefcase; that would be sweet. I guess it would be impractical, especially considering the fact I have a laptop bag that can be used as a briefcase if I detach the body-strap. But it's not a leather hardshell brown briefcase. I was thinking about checking out a book, maybe seeing if they had a little Nietzsche or something, but I have a horrible track record with libraries. I am the worst at checking out books; I have a shameful experience regarding the public library in my town involving a fine that was upwards of $60, and a vow to never return. I don't want to repeat my actions, especially considering the fact that I have to come back here, and if I screw up I'll actually have to take responsibility for my actions. That can't happen. I guess I could manage to bring the books back; I pass the library (with its book drop-off outside) every Tuesday and Thursday, with plenty of time to return it. I read fast, and I am at loss for anything to do this evening (I should be studying, but I miss reading!) so I could have it back in exactly a week, or less. I guess I'll give it a shot. I just can't deny my adoration of free reading material. I cannot help myself. ):
(I suppose when your self control is only in jeopardy when you want to check out a book from the library and or buy 50% discounted cookware from Kroger, you are not in too bad of shape. I may not have self-control, but damn if I don't have brand new pots and pans for $25 and a book to read. Maybe I'll make myself some pasta and READ tonight. Aw yeah.
My psychology class was cancelled for the day, which means I got to sit around and draw horrible little comics and doodles and drink tea.
Muffins that are almost as big as my whole head. Seriously. I had one today.
I thought I lost my septum ring today, but I found it like 30 minutes after. Since I lose my septum ring too much and have to buy new ones all the time, that was pretty neat.
My math test today was pushed back to Thursday since my professor wasn't here last Thursday. That is good, since I didn't study at all.
My history test curve just got posted, and I initially made a WONDERFUL 67. I cried, thinking I was going to end up failing the class or something, lose my HOPE, blahblah... it ended up that everyone did AWFUL and the curve brought my test score up to a B. TWO LETTER GRADES. I am now worry-free.
My new refrigerator/freezer combo is working better than I could have ever hoped, and although it is smaller than its late predecessor, it is old and reminds me of the 70s and I like that. Also, since it is not crammed with freezerburnt meat and the like, it has more usable space. Thirdly, it is perfectly clean and disenfected and the only things in it are things we use constantly. No sifting through old condiments.
Things that could be better:
I am sick. There is no way around it. I have stolen two small rolls of toilet tissue from the bathroom today, and used up the first one and a good bit of the second. I feel like every time I sneeze, people look around shiftily and assume I have H1N1. Which brings me to the point: I just got onto someone for being paranoid about this 'swine flu' thing, and I am sick now. First thing that comes to my mind: I need to go to the doctor and see if this is swine flu, oh my god I am going to die I need to see a doctor immediately I think my body is aching now that is a flu symptom oh man this is the end.
My mom is the greatest failure of a parent in history, and I have not had a cell phone in about a week due directly to this fact. I also had to buy my own groceries for the first time, also as a result of my mom being Martha freaking Stewart.
I actually don't have that much to complain about, which is pretty sweet. And since I was all bugged out and weird on allergy medicine (I am SO hardcore...) when I left my required blog comments, I am going to go check and make sure I did it right. Word to the wise: Don't take like 4 Benadryl and do pseudo-schoolwork at like midnight. Seriously.
I feel so lame. I'm one of the only people who updates regularly to this thing... I'm a total loser I guess.
):
EDIT: Since this is an English blog and reading pertains to such, I am going to mention that I just finished reading Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk and it was INCREDIBLE. It is vulgar, gritty, confusing (in the best way possible), surprising, groundbreaking, and just plain INTERESTING. I, and this is saying a whole hell of a lot, think this may be my favorite Chuck Palahniuk book (and I've read all but 3 I believe). Don't read about it online before you read it, though... it is a bunch of surprises and you don't want to ruin it for yourself. But if you are into that kind of stuff (ex. if you liked the movie -or book- Fight Club, you'll dig this!) you should check it out as soon as possible. I MEAN IT.
Today has all the makings of greatness, in that I didn't have to go to math class (my professor didn't show up), and I got to drink hot tea and read my book (I know I should be studying, but when do I ever get the chance to read anymore? A: Never.) instead! And since I have two decent classes afterward, my day increased in greatness tenfold. After this, I'm going shopping for Jeremy's birthday with my best friend (who I haven't seen in a few days), and then I don't have school for four more days! And hopefully somewhere between the end of this class and the beginning of my shopping excursion, I'll get to look at some cars with my dad. We're in the active buying process, and looking hard at a particular car (2003 Honda Civic SI, in the most awesome shade of blue you could imagine) which makes me absolutely giddy. This entry is lacking in the length department, but I want to finish my essay more than I want to talk about my day, so that's what I'm going to do!
As of late, I have become intensely interested in compulsive hoarding. Psychology, and various irregularities within it, has always been of keen interest to me. However, that ‘close to home’ feeling hits fairly strong when it comes to compulsive hoarding. I can recall at least a handful of people I care for who have displayed some of these behaviors, with varying severity. No, I did not grow up in a home piled floor-to ceiling with boxes of trinkets and papers and other ‘treasures’, but I know people who did and I’ve seen it firsthand. I must say, at this point, not only does it sadden me; it absolutely fascinates me. Compulsive hoarding is defined by Wikipedia as “the acquisition of, and failure to use or discard such a large number of seemingly useless posessions that it causes significant clutter and impairment to basic living activities such as mobility, cooking, cleaning, showering, or sleeping.” This is a good definition, because not only does it describe the behavior, it describes the consequences of such. Compulsive hoarders, as I have come to understand, identify themselves as their possessions. When a hoarder’s house is emptied, it is as if their heart is emptied with it. A sad little familiarity strikes me when I watch things on television about hoarders and see some of the homes piled full of ‘treasures’. I remember a friend I had in my childhood; we will call her Marie for the sake of anonymity. I was sure she had everything: a bigger house than mine, more clothes and toys than I had, infinite food (rarely of the healthy variety) in the kitchen and even sprawling out onto the back porch. I was never at loss for any of those things, it just seemed that everything I had, she had more of. Obviously, I was a little jealous, but as time passed and I grew older, I began to feel sympathy replace my envy. Every surface of their home was covered with, for lack of a better word, stuff. Their kitchen table and chairs were all piled high with Halloween candy, clothes, trinkets, Christmas decorations, and anything else you could readily imagine. There existed a spare bedroom in which Marie used to practice piano (one of her many short-lived hobbies) that grew so full of toys and clothes and collectibles it could not be used for anything other than storage. Their hallways were lined with boxes full of souvenirs and papers they “might need someday”, limiting the walking area to strictly what was necessary. Marie’s bedroom was always in squalor, full of so many things that she could never use. The clothing she had so much of filled the closet, the dressers (there were two), and several boxes. She was a girl whose parents indulged in her short-lived but passionate hobbies, such as clarinet (she played through two years of middle school and no more), painting (an easel sat abused in the corner after a use or two), knitting (yarn snaked over her bed, the floor, and even sometimes into the hallway; I am still not sure that she ever completed a project), and reading (unread volumes spilled out from the bookshelf onto the floor , into even more boxes, and under the bed). Their garage was another cesspool, in which no cars were parked. It was full of boxes (they must have bought them wholesale) that contained Marie’s childhood toys that had made it out of the house, more and more trinkets and ‘gifts’, Christmas trees (note the plural form), and anything else they could fit there that wasn’t crammed into their home. Marie was one of the few lucky enough to have a playhouse; hers was even two-story and had air-conditioning! The only catch was that she couldn’t utilize it, for stuffed animals, play kitchens, and ‘science experiments’ prevented it from any real meaningful use. Most compulsive hoarders are different than Marie’s family, in that they are typically lower income. The ‘treasures’ they save are usually picked through from garbage, bought secondhand, or handed down from a friend or relative. Marie’s family was a different breed; everything in their home was brand new. The problem seemed to be that every time Marie’s mother (or, eventually, Marie herself) saw something she that caught her eye, she bought it instead of just appreciating its existence. The lines of need and want were blurred and undefined within their family, and eventually want engulfed need. So, while Marie did have a bigger house and more things than I did, I came to realize quantity wasn’t always as important as quality. The façade of Marie’s family as a picture-perfect Norman Rockwell painting has dissolved with time and wisdom. I have finally stopped seeing her as a fairy princess in her castle, and I’ve finally come to see her family for what they truly are: prisoners in their own lavish home.
I had a pretty awful morning this morning, that involved an argument with my father, a little anger toward my boyfriend, and skipping math class. I guess I should probably have just done my business and gone to class, but I wasn't even in the Jones Building by the time my class started at 8, and I didn't want to come in late with a puffy red face. One or the other, sure, but both? No. Anyway, I am pretty sure I am going to go insane if I don't get my car soon. Seriously. All the 'festivities' of my morning would never have occured if I could just afford a car. People have no idea how lucky they are to have simple things, like a paid-for car (or even just something they can afford to make payments on.) Not having a car is seriously the biggest hurdle I've ever had to face in my life, and I am not being melodramatic. Think of this: I've never gone anywhere completely alone. I'm at the mercy of others, so I am often late for things like class, events, etc. I am left out of things frequently because if my friends can't or won't go (and pick me up), I can't go. I spend more on gas money, giving it to others, than I would for myself. I can't get a job until I get a car, and my self-employed father has to take me to school every day. COLLEGE. Being broke is a vicious cycle. Your parents are broke, they can't afford to send you to private school and/or buy you a car. So you can't work, and you have to ride the bus until you find great friends or you graduate. Even if you're a senior. Your parents can't afford to send you to college, and even if you get Pell grant, you still can't afford to go anywhere 'good' (I'm not speaking poorly of Macon State, I am just saying I never had the opportunity to go anywhere else.) You have to go straight to work, or to tech school and get a low-paying job. You have kids. The cycle starts again. It takes a lot of hard work and adversity to rise above that and break the cycle, which I'm trying really hard to do. My mother isn't in the picture, no help from her at all. My dad is finally buying me a car, but business in August is always slow as all hell, so I am still waiting. I'm not ungrateful; don't get me wrong. I am just so sick of making everyone help me out. I want to be self sufficient. I want to be able to say "I feel like going to do this.", and just go do it without having to bum a ride or drag an unwilling boyfriend along. And I want to be able to finally get a real job, and make money (I worked for my dad, I mentioned he was self employed, this summer. I saved up a lot, and I've spent the vast majority of it on textbooks and gas money.) on a regular basis. Normal things people don't really think twice about are all I really want. I am so tired of feeling guilty for having to be so selfish. Most of the time, I think I should have probably waited another semester (or another year!) to go to college, so I wouldn't have to rely on people to take me to Macon (I live about 30 minutes away, a little less) and then hear them complain about it, thus making me feel so much worse. I just want to sink into the ground and dissappear, sometimes. Since this entire blog was depressing, I am going to post a list of happy things, starting NOW:
kittens
crayons
cutting a sheet of construction paper
orange sherbert
hot tea
Chuck Palahniuk books
good documentaries
pens that write perfect and smooth
the smell of the hardware store
slushies from Target
anything from Target
75% off sales
Diet Dr. Pepper
big giant purses
birthday cake
musical theatre
the 'h' in my name
braiding my boyfriend's hair
peggle and tetris
sharpie markers in every color
coloring books
getting my nails done
gladiator sandals
peach fuzz
tattoos
TATTOOS, did I mention tattoos?
not having writer's block/artist's block
making faces at dogs in cars
big fuzzy blankets
pygmy marmocets
naps
new soap/body wash
There is a lot to be happy about and/or grateful for.
My name is Nichole, but I go by Nichi (at least in print/type). I am a typical college freshman in that I would probably die if I didn't have the internet. I live with my cats and my boyfriend, both of which I love dearly. I read a lot, mostly Chuck Palahniuk and Augusten Burroughs. The hardest thing about maintaining this blog is remembering not to say too many cusses. I welcome all forms of feedback, despite the fact that this blog is involuntary. Alright, let's do this thing. (:
This is China, who we usually call 'Chi' or 'Cheese'. She is fluffy and she used to be kind of mean, but she has gotten nicer as time passes. You can kind of see her big foot at the bottom. She has seriously huge feet for a cat, which I love, cause I have size 10 feet myself and maybe I can relate to her a little, or something. Also, they look like snow shoes. What is not to like about THAT?
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