Tag Archives: animals

18. A motto/quote/lyric that you live by and what it means to you.



I have so many quotes and lyrics that mean so much to me, but of course, some that stand out more than others.

“The rock candy’s melted, only diamonds now remain,”—John Mayer, Clarity

This is a line from one of my favorite John Mayer songs, and I love this line, particularly the second part of it (which I’m considering getting tattooed on me). To me, it just means you’re done with the candy-coated stuff and the only thing that’s left is the real thing. I always want my life to be real, I want the people in it to be real and true.


I have a lot tooooooo.  But the one that I think I go by the most is:

“When you know, you know.”

A lot of people think this is about finding a spouse, but it’s not at all.  At least for me. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that I get pretty strong premonitions about certain things.  A lot of them are about relationships, but I even had one once as I was leaving my parent’s house for a quick errand about my cat dying.  The cat was an outdoor cat and would come inside only at night to sleep.  When I pulled out of the driveway I saw the cat in the middle of the field accross the street and said to myself that I should chase him down and put him inside, which was something I had never done before, but I didn’t do it. When I got home 15 minutes later my neighbor was shoveling my cat into a box off of the street because it had been run over by a car and killed.  So, I’ve been reminding myself of this quote for a while now that when I get these feelings I need to go with them.  Because when you know, you know!

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Meet my new kitty!!

943720_10151398530986434_1159808051_nI got a new cat!

If you’re a longtime reader, you know that last summer, I suffered a major loss when my beloved orange cat of 10 years suddenly passed away due to cancer.

I never thought I would get another cat, or any pet for that matter.

I donated all of my previous cat’s items (except for sentimental stuff) to a local shelter a little more than a month ago, and started looking at the cats they had posted pictures of on their Facebook page.

I saw several cats that were cute, but my mom told me to be on the lookout for The One. She said I would know.

She was right.

One Sunday I was looking at an album of new kitty pictures, when I saw a litter they named the Golden Girls litter. Each kitten was named after a character from The Golden Girls (there’s even Stanley).

Have I mentioned that I watch the Golden Girls everyday?

944729_10102300771402695_415425103_nBlanche is my favorite character, so I checked out the cat they named Blanche…and she looked like the cat I had when I was 2—a tortoise shell calico. So. Freaking. Cute.

I immediately jumped on what I needed to do to adopt her. I visited the shelter. I met up with her foster mom. I waited. And waited. Filled out papers. Did the interview. Completed the home visit. Paid the money. And finally, finally, she arrived at my apartment last night.

She immediately got right at home enjoying the new things I bought for her, leopard print food and water bowls, cat bed, and even took a polite piss in the hot green litter box.

Blanche Hollingsworth-Devereaux is quite a rowdy Southern Belle, but I am happy to have some company in the apartment again.

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And puppy makes 2

This past weekend I adopted a puppy.  I’ve been wanting to get one for the past few years and until I started living alone it didn’t seem like the right time.  So I’ve been looking for the past few months, and even sent a few emails out about some I liked but they never panned out.  Just when I was giving up hope, I saw this little guy on petfinder:












 I mean how can you not love that face? Much to my surprise the rescue place that had him replied to my emails and we set up a time to meet.  I went to the meeting equipped with a leash, harness, and kennel for him to ride home in.  My mom and sister went with me to look at him and they ended up adopting his brother:










I will say, it’s nice to not have to go through the “new puppy phase” alone.  The first couple of days were ROUGH.  He peed everywhere, like every 10 seconds.  He peed so much in fact that we (my mom and I) started calling him Whizzer. He cries every time I put him in the kennel, which is to be expected, but he never goes in without a yummy treat so if I were him I’d be looking forward to it.  He doesn’t like to go on walks, like whines and cries throughout the WHOLE thing, he’s a lazy bum.  He’s doing really well on the potty training though, since I got him to my apartment (the first night, Saturday night, we stayed at my parents so he could play with his brother) there have only been a few accidents. 

 The first night I had him alone (Sunday) I was ready to give up and ship him back to the rescue place, he’s cute and cuddly and I had no doubt he’d get swooped up in a second.  When it was bedtime and I put him in his cage he cried and barked for a solid half hour, when he finally did go to sleep he didn’t stay asleep long and got me back up at 3:45am.  I took him out and put him back in the cage.  Where he started barking again.   I live in an apartment and while dogs are allowed, I didn’t tell them about him because I’m planning to move in 3 months when my lease it up and didn’t feel like paying a $400 security deposit and $50 extra a month for pet rent.  So I’m a little worried that if he is constantly barking a neighbor will complain and I’ll get fined.  A few people at work gave me some pointers on how to get him to sleep through the night and go to bed without crying: put a hot water bottle and a ticking clock in his cage so he thinks a sibling or mom is in there with him, give him herbal calming treats before bed, don’t feed/water him 3 hours before bed, don’t let him nap from the time you get home from work until he goes to bed and cover the kennel with a blanket or towel.  I did all of these the last 2 nights and it worked! Monday night he slept from 10:30 to 6:15 and last night he slept from 10:30 until I woke him up to eat at 7 and only barked a couple of times when I first put him in his cage.  However, we’re still working on the no barking when I put him in the cage to just leave to go somewhere throughout the day. 

 I’m adjusting and things are getting better, I feel pretty tied down and like I have no life because I’m constantly on puppy duty.  I knew it would be a lot of work, but it is way more than I imagined.  None the less, I’m keeping him.  I know it will get better with time.

 The funny thing is that people at work are seriously acting like I had a child. They asked if I wanted a puppy shower, and ask me every day how he’s doing.  They’re making comments in meetings about how I’m a new mother, etc.  I just laugh and tell them that for about an hour each night I have postpartum depression and don’t want him.  Then I learned, this is a real thing. I just… have no words.

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Wakeboarding Monkey

Today, in an attempt to not bore everyone with a story you probably don’t care about, I’m leaving you with this picture of a wakeboarding monkey…also, my office smells like a straight up toilet and it’s really cramping my writing style.

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11 weeks and 11 pounds

This week has been a real whirlwind for me, first because of all the unexpected contact with guys from my past over the weekend.  Then, as soon as I got to work yesterday I had a missed voicemail from my stepmom, saying my dad was in the hospital.  She didn’t leave much detail, only saying that he was bitten by a snake twice, he was ok, but would be in the hospital over night.

So I started to freak out and basically got nothing done at work yesterday.  It took me forever to get ahold of them and when I finally did they were just kind of ho hum about it.  Apparently my dad was with my grandpa at his country cabin and my dad was mulling around in a wood pile and when he pulled his hand out and it was gushing blood, swollen, and had 4 fang marks where the blood was coming from.  My grandpa had some kind of venom extraction do-hickey at his cabin so they tried that, but it didn’t work so they took my dad to the hospital where his motor skills were becoming slow and he was having trouble breathing… the works.

He didn’t see what kind of snake bit him, but they could tell from the side effects that it was venomous. He is ok, he gets to go home in the late morning and I still hate snakes.  I mean really… could anything else bad happen with snakes? Oh right, I forgot to mention that over the weekend when Betty was visiting she wanted to make sure the snake was in the cage and  we discovered that in fact it is not and Doogie has yet to inform anyone, but took the liberty of shutting off the heat lamp to save some energy and a few bucks.

So I told Anth that because of what happened to my dad it’s totally justifiable that I murder Doogie’s snake if it’s ever found…. and he told me that I need to reevaluate what is a big deal and what isn’t.  I mean…. my dad being in the hospital is a big deal, fucking asshole.  He claimed that me hating Doogie’s snake wasn’t a big deal because it’s a boa and it can’t do anything to me.  But, the simple fact that I could wake up in the middle of the night to that thing trying to choke me out because Doogie is so careless with it is plenty of reason to be afraid of it and want it dead.  I stand by my opinion – Anth’s an asshole!

Anyway… exactly 11 weeks from today I leave for Hawaii!! And that means I am getting down to the diet crunch time.  I’ve been slack assing on the working out because I’ve been super stressed at work, but I made the decision to make myself work out every day for the next 11 weeks and then after that I can go back to being fat.

So, if anyone wants to join my weight loss crusade I’ve done some research and here’s how it’s going down.  3500 calories = 1 pound.  But, you don’t lose a pound just by cutting 3500 calories out of your diet… it has to be a 3500 calorie deficit.  So you start with your resting (or basal) metabolic rate… I’m going with 1200 calories per day, but here’s a link to find yours in case you aren’t a 26 year old, 120 pound, 5 foot 3, female.

So every day my base calorie intake is 1200 calories, anything over is weight gain and anything under is weight loss.  To lose 1 pound a week I need to either burn 500 calories a day by exercising or only eat 700 calories.  So I’m going to need some ideas from everyone on low calorie foods that I can eat a lot of because only lazy days when I don’t want to work out I’m going to need some tasty ideas!

I ordered this Victoria’s Secret seashell/mermaid bikini

I was pretty disappointed last night when I tried it on and it didn’t look the same on me as it does this girl… so, operation lose a pound a week from now until I leave for Hawaii is in full force.  

Any dieting tips/staying strong advice/words of wisdom anyone has…give it to me!

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I’ll take breathe right strips for $1,000, Alex.

So the other night it’s bedtime and I’m laying in bed on my computer catching up on some of my favorite blogs, when I hear something that sounds like snoring.  This was all too familiar because of that whole mouse in my room mulling in plastic bags situation.  I sat there without moving and listened to see if I could determine whether it was really snoring or just something super annoying outside.

I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, I mean it literally sounded like it was coming from inside my room (annnd just as I typed this I remembered Anth telling me they came home from a bar Saturday night and the front door was standing wide open, makes sense, there’s probably a hobo/ax murderer sleeping in my closet).  I crept over to the door to see if it sounded like it was coming from Anth’s room and I couldn’t hear it anymore, yet when I get back in bed, there it was! 

I laid there for a while wondering if the snake had gotten out and was hiding under my covers somewhere ready to attack, but snakes don’t snore? Did we get a dog that no one told me about?

Then I started thinking that it was my neighbor who shares a wall with me.  The past few months I’ve been able to hear everything through the wall.  It was like they hadn’t been living in that room and then all of a sudden the whole freaking family sleeps, eats, and poops in this room that shares a wall with my bedroom.

I hear the tv on until the wee hours of the night, I hear when they leave early in the morning and forget to shut their alarm off and it goes off for 2 hours, and I also hear their baby up at 5am making stupid baby noises.  

I would be lying if I said I didn’t take rocks out of this vase in my room:

And throw them out of this door in my room:



so that they hit my neighbors window when that baby is being loud.  Not that the baby can pick up on subtle cues that she’s keeping the neighbors up with her noises, but I’m figuring the parents will think the room is haunted or something and move her out of it and make it a guest room so I can finally sleep in peace.  I’m still waiting, but it will happen.

Speaking of snoring, Anth, some friends, and I are going on a weekend getaway the first weekend of November.  We just booked it and I kind of am already regretting it/thinking of ways to get out of it.  Our college football team is playing at a University in the state above ours and I don’t know, for some reason everyone thought it would be a good idea to go.

We pondered on renting an RV and parking it at a Walmart overnight (that… is the most white trash sentence I have ever written) and then someone was like, so whose going to drive the hotel to the Walmart shitfaced?  Good point, so Anth booked us 4 hotel rooms 8 miles from the bar scene and we’ll be cabbing it.

I had a few conditions that needed to be met before I would agree to partake in this weekend o fun:

1. At no point during the trip from the time we leave the apartment to the time we arrive back in our city can Anth or anyone else insult me in a way that will make me wander off alone to get attention.  See: Missing girls.

2.  I need my own bed.

3.  Whoever shares a room with me cannot poop while I am in the room.  I’m sorry, I know it’s a natural thing, but I have a weak stomach.

Anth said it was fine and he would just share a room with me.  I said ok… then that mystery snoring happened and I remembered from a New Years Eve where I slept in the same room as Anth that he snores like a freight train.  So, now I need to cancel.  Because as much fun as that weekend will probably be.  I really like my sleep on the weekends.  Sleep > drinking on a lawn in the cold. 

And on that note… I hope everyone has a good weekend.  One of my ex-boyfriends who Anth and all my big city friends are good friends with is getting married this weekend, I wasn’t invited, so Betty is coming up to binge eat with me for a few days.  Ta ta now.

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When animals in your home attack…drown them in the toilet.

Hello dear readers.  Let me set the mood for this next story… it is approximately 3:45 AM on Friday morning August 12th, my heart is racing and I will not be going back to sleep, ever.  I was just ripped from my sleep by the most unsettling noise I will ever hear, so I have nothing left to do but blog.

Here I am, sleeping my little heart away and it’s 3.5 hours before I have to be up for work when I hear it.  Plastic bags rustling.  It instantly woke me.  I laid here in my bed for a few moments as I listened for it again, and it happened.  I shot up and flipped on my lamp – looked at the plastic bags…nothing.  Then out of the corner of my eye I saw movement in the corner.   And there it went across my floor:

A white mouse.   This isn’t your ordinary mouse.  This is a pet store mouse.  Yep…like one for the snake.  This means 1 of 2 things:

#1.  Doogie left the lid off his snake cage and any moment I am going to see the snake catapult from under my bed to capture his dinner.

#2.  This fucking piece of shit got loose as Doogie was feeding it to the snake and he didn’t tell us.

These weren’t the first thoughts that raced through my head… the first were, what do I do and how do I capture it – preceded by a set of blood curdling screams (to which no one answered).  The following is the only indication that I can semi-handle a situation when under pressure.

I grabbed one of the plastic bags, wrapped it up tight and marched up to Doogie’s room ready to turn the heat on.

That’s right.  The heat is ON mother fucker.  When Doogie wasn’t in his room I didn’t know what to do, should I throw it in the snakes cage, should I take it outside and let it go? Neither of these scenarios seemed like a good idea to my brain that was momentarily made of mush.

This is your brian when you get woken up at 3:30 in the morning by a mouse:

So what do I do?  The next best thing, wake up Anth.  He’ll know what to do.  So I walk down the hall to Anth’s room with the plastic bag extended as far away from my body as possible, knock on his door and say… “Anthony, I need you to help me.”  He replied with an annoyed,  “Ughh…wha-uuuut?!” and I could hear him in there mulling around (probably looking for boxers) for what seemed like 2 minutes, glad we weren’t getting robbed and I didn’t have a gun to my head.

He finally opens the door and I cry, “I don’t know what to do.  There’s a mouse in this bag. It was in my room. Take it.  Get it away from me. Take it away.  Kill it.  I don’t care.  I’m gonna throw up. I’m dying.”

Anth takes the bag and the next thing I see is the mouse climbing out of the top of the bag.  I start with the blood curdling screams again… “WHA WHA WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?? AHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHH STOP IT!!! GET IT!!! GET IT!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I’m having a heart attack.  Really, this is what death feels like.”

Anth stood there giggling at me as he threw the bag and the mouse into his and Doogie’s bathroom and started questioning me.  

“Did you find this on your pillow?” He asked.

“This is not a time for jokes, Anth.  I really think I might be hyperventilating.”  I said.  You see, before I moved in this happened once before.  Doogie went to feed his pointless and meaningless snake some mice for dinner and one got loose.  Instead of telling everyone, Doogie didn’t say anything and Anth went to go to bed and found a little friend crawling across his pillow.  I don’t know if Anth went off on Doogie like I am going to, but I’m going to make him wish he was dead.

Anth went into the bathroom to capture the beast and this was when I started feeling my face for new wrinkles that had formed that very second and I realized that I had put a face mask on before I went to bed.  Not your normal all over face mask, this was a spot treatment.  No wonder Anth found the situation so comical.  Here I was a face masked freak, wearing no bra, freaking out over a mouse.

Anth’s in the bathroom talking to himself, thinking he lost the fucker when he found it behind the toilet.  This is when the light bulb in my head went off.  “YES!!! PUT IT IN THE TOILET!!! IT WILL DROWN!!!!”   I had already told Anth I didn’t want him feeding it to the snake because I didn’t trust him to put the lid to the cage on properly and the next thing you know the snake would be in my room choking me out for killing its dinner.  

I’m standing in the hallway taking my pulse as Anth makes sure the mouse doesn’t get out of the toilet and he feels bad for it.  “Aw, poor little guy is hanging on for dear life.”  He says.  “ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? FLUSH IT!!!!” I replied.  So he does, then he starts in with these crazy accusations that he hopes the snake isn’t loose too.  So he goes up, I hear him messing with the snake cage as I stood on the stairs…. “Is it in there? Is everything ok? I can’t look at it.  I’m going to throw up, this is crazy, I’m going to die, I’m going to get eaten by tiny mice and snakes.  I might faint.”  Anth wasn’t replying which worried me.  He finally came down and assured me that the snake was in the cage and everything was intact.  

Anth said he was going to sleep and I walked to my room and began plotting the demise of Doogie.  

Now here it is almost 5am and Anth just left for boot camp.  He’s annoyed with me asking questions about the scene he found in Doogie’s room since I’m trying to be a detective and figure out if Doogie knew the mouse was loose.  Either way, he needs to get that shit in check.  I sent him the following email since he cowered away to his girlfriends for the night:

To: Doogie, Anth

From: Gizzy

Subject: WTF

Doogie.  What the fuck.  Guess what woke me up at 3:30 this morning?  A fucking mouse.  That’s right, I am not happy.  You owe us SO big!! Me for getting woken up by it and capturing it (I may never sleep again) and Anth because I had to wake him up to dispose of it.  Shit listed, Doogie.  Shit listed.

Anth thinks we should tell him he can’t have his girlfriend over for 3 weeks in order to make it up to us.  I’m thinking something more along the lines of he needs to get rid of the snake since he obviously can’t keep it’s live food under control and his roommates are the ones that have to suffer when the fuckers get loose.  Seems fair right?  It’s happened before, it will surely happen again.  When there is a problem find a solution.  Problem:  How to not have your roommates get woken up by mice running around  Solution: Get rid of the thing that eats the mice so you don’t have to buy them.  DING DING DING!! I’m pissed.  I fucking hate men.  The only reason to have a snake is to make up for a small penis to make yourself feel more adequate.  End of story.  

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