Island of Misfit Cats

This morning I was discussing the oxymoronic prospect of an insomniac cat with my friend Marissa. Really...how funny would that be? I've never known a cat that couldn't slip into split-second slumber. You're never going to find a cat with bloodshot eyes, staring at infomercials at 3am. You won't likely see cats raiding the refrigerator in a sleepwalking stupor after taking their nightly dose of Ambien.

What if there were an Island of Misfit Cats? Here, all the freaks of the feline kingdom could gather and live in peace, avoiding the mocking meows of their "normal" brethren. What other kinds of kitties would accompany Insomniac Cat? Hmmmm....

How about Filth Cat? He'd hate cleaning himself and walk around a la Pigpen, with a little dusty cloud surrounding him.

Certainly String-Phobia Cat would fit right in. She would immediately break out into a full-blown panic attack at the sight of a string. Poor String-Phobia cat....

Bird-Lover Cat might enjoy the island. This cat prefers the non-traditional romantic relationship with the feathered set. His preference has always been judged and disallowed in many feline circles. Here on the island, he is comfortable to openly love that yellow finch who's captured his lonely heart. Isn't that the tweetest thing you've ever heard?

Other inhabitants of the island might include Pill-Popper Cat (loves to swallow pills), Clawstrophobic Cat (hates small spaces), and Ground Cat (afraid of heights).

Yes, on the Island of Misfit Cats, these once-ridiculed kit-kats can stand whisker-to-whisker, embrace their unique behaviors, and coexist among others who accept their unconventional lifestyles! Don't delay -- reserve your spot today!

Bites of Bliss

I was just thinking about those perfect little nuggets of time...those momentary glimpses of complete joy that fill my heart with so much happiness that I think I might burst with bliss. I treasure those twinkles. Just now Phoebe the cat was curled in my lap and I was stroking her silky tabby/calico coat. She looked up at me with those sweet, sleepy, adoring kitty eyes and I melted. That's the kind of moment I want to remember when I'm running late for work, spill coffee on my pants, and step barefoot in warm cat puke.

And there are many other of these flashes of euphoria. What is more satisfying than biting into a square of waffle that is completely filled with that exquisite elixir of warm syrup and melted butter? And speaking of butter, and as long as I'm food-swooning, how about the little caverns in English muffins that capture that melty buttery goodness? Now that's a glimpse of heaven.

I also love that feeling when I look at my Scrabble rack and realize I can create a perfect BINGO. My heart jumps, my eyes widen, and then I triumphantly place the tiles. To me, that feeling is pure elation.

Other momentary peeks of paradise include finding an unexpected parking space directly in front of a store, receiving a Facebook friend request from someone wonderful that I haven't heard from in years, finding money in a coat pocket, receiving thoughtful texts from my husband, when my 12 and 14 year old kids snuggle toward me on the sofa, the first application of brand new lipstick, seeing a card hand-addressed to me in the mailbox, hearing a refrain in a song that lures me into a perfect nostalgic trance, and climbing into bed that's just been made with freshly cleaned sheets.

There are so many more instants that elicit such ecstasy -- I'm certain I take most of them for granted. I'd like to bask in the glow of those moments more often. I want to take notice and allow myself to steep in that golden gratitude for a good long while. If that means I need to start eating more waffles, then so be it.

How Does My Garden Grow?

I'm not what you'd call outdoorsy. I don't like to get dirty, I have no interest in maintaining anything outside that needs tending, and I don't enjoy sweating. As you can probably guess, I am not a gardener. I have many friends who enjoy the springtime ritual of digging their fingers into the newly awakened soil and revel in the midwifery of a leafy new birth. Don't get me wrong -- I love to look at beautiful flowers and would love nothing more than to have a gorgeously manicured yard with bright blooms artfully arranged with rocks, fountains, and whatnot; I just don't want to be the one planting and arranging the whatnot.

However, if I were highly motivated by the possibilities of the harvest of my choice, I may just rethink my desire to dig around in the dirt for a bit. Here is some of the bounty I'd like to produce in my magical garden:

• Rows and rows of gin and tonics, already infused with fresh lime

• Cheesecake -- I'd have a section of plain and a section of blueberry

• Kittens -- can't you just see fuzzy little kitty babies, just ripe for the pickin'? They'd grow Cabbage Patch Kid-style...just less creepy-looking

• AA batteries -- it seems like I always need them and never have them

• Bacon -- I'd choose the thick sliced, applewood-smoked variety. How nice would it be to wander down to the garden and pick some fresh breakfast?

• Enchanted fruit whose seeds give me extra patience when dealing with matters of teenage children

Maybe I'll start a community garden or CSA; let me know if you are interested....and alert me if you have any connections on where I can purchase some of these magical seeds. I'll compensate you with some freshly grown gin and tonics and bacon.

Directions? Who Needs 'Em? (ummm..me?)

I'm not the best at reading directions -- I have no patience for that sort of thing. I'd rather make my own rules and figure things out myself, which sometimes ends in disaster.

I always read directions for prescription medications and important items like that, but I suppose with some over-the-counter products, I glance at the back of the container and then create my own (better) plan. After the birth of my second child I was experiencing a lot of joint pain everywhere. Apparently, I thought it was a great idea to rub Icy Hot all over my body, like lotion. Wow. That was a burning mistake of epic proportions! I ended up dancing around the house, feeling like a giant Peppermint Patty on steroids. I jumped in the shower, but the stuff was so absorbed in my skin that it didn't do much good. Fail.

More recently, I was experiencing some dry mouth effects and my doctor suggested I try this gel-stuff that helps produce saliva. Did I even think to check the instructions? Nope. I ended up slathering my tongue with this gel and spent the rest of the day drooling like a dog (or in my case, my cat Cosmo).

Yeah, take my advice... sometimes it actually pays to read the directions. I'll probably start doing that sometime soon.

Optimist Prime Meets Bigfoot

I am an optimist -- I can't help it. Some might (and definitely do) call me "gullible," and maybe there's a touch of truth there. I see the inherent good in people, and nearly all of the time, I am right. I know some people that live their lives assuming the worst and then enjoy the surprise when they are wrong. I guess I'm just not that cynical. I wouldn't call myself a Pollyanna, because I am cautious when I need to be; but overall, I look for the good and I'm rarely let down.

Back to what some like to call the "gullible part", I'm also one of those people who likes to believe in everything until there's a reason not to believe. Excuse me for sounding X-File-ish, but I want to believe. I love the possibility of ghosts, aliens, Bigfoot, goat-sucking Chupacabras, and the things of urban legends. My mind wanders constantly and I often create crazy scenario daydreams in my head (I just need to work on not doing this as much when I'm driving). I love that about myself, although I have been called everything from ditzy to flaky to just plain crazy because I'm off visiting my world of make believe and sometimes miss important details of conversations. That's ok -- the world in my head is sometimes far more interesting than some of the conversations I have in the real world. And if you need proof of Bigfoot, let me show you my 12-year old son's shoes.

Extreme Makeover: Blog Edition

I've made a few changes over the past year: I let my hair grow, I got new glasses, I learned to sew clothing...I even changed my hair color! I figured it was time to give my little blog a makeover as well.

Spring is a time of new beginnings, right? I also thought that I'd be more motivated to write if I looked forward to seeing the pretty new colors and cute Phoebe paw images on my page. See, I'm very visually stimulated, to the point where my husband ends up saying, "They're just paper towels -- who cares about the pattern? Just pick one and let's go!" Oh, contraire! If I'm going to mop up piles of cat puke, I'd much rather use a paper towel adorned with cute birdies and daffodils -- visually pleasing and functional! Don't you think? I knew you'd agree.

Some of you know that, by nature, I am a great project starter. I sometimes (many times) create so much excitement for myself when an idea pops in my head and then somewhere down the creative highway, I stall. I have found that I need to find new ways to motivate myself and keep things fresh and new. Honestly, I'm completely blown away that I've actively maintained this blog for 16 straight months. That's longer than I've concentrated on any other creative endeavor (not counting my ongoing efforts at creatively figuring out ways to avoid housework).

So...if something like this blog can maintain my interest for nearly a year and a half, I believe she deserves a little facelift. If she continues to woo my creative affections, perhaps next year I'll take her on a Caribbean cruise!

Where Do I Apply??

I sometimes think about some of the cool jobs that are out there -- you know...the ones that seem too fun to be true. I hear about these vocations and think, "This is a job?? For real??" I think I would do very well taste-testing ice cream or concocting the games and puzzles on the back of cereal boxes. People get paid good money to do these kinds of things and I'm a little bit jealous. I possess a bounty of skill and experience in an abundance of areas. Here are just a few of the positions for which I am highly qualified:

• Advanced List Maker (relaxed applicants need not apply)

• Silly Haiku Poet (deranged sense of humor and too much time on your hands required)

• Leftover Food Identifier (housework procrastination skills required)

• Feline Vomit Locator (past experience stepping barefoot in cold/warm piles of cat puke a bonus)

• Excellent Parking Spot Securer (parallel parking not required)

• Giada de Laurentiis Smacker (access to a large cast iron skillet required)

• Project Starter (follow-through not required)

• Cat Belly Pillow Inventor (unhealthy obsession with rubbing your face in cat bellies a plus)

• Old Sitcom Episode Identifier (childhood sitting in front of the TV required)

• Random, Spontaneous Singer/Dancer (skill not required)

Where do I apply??

Mish Mash with a Side of Mindless

Well...now that the colossal cavalcade of birthday and anniversary celebrations is complete, I can return to writing about the mindful and the mindless, with no particular emphasis on either one. Curious about the state of my 40-Before-40 list? Yeah, me too. I plan to revisit that project in the next week and create a grand finale-ish of a post (don't get too excited, I never got around to making those homemade cat treats you were so excited about).

In the meantime, how about something from the mindless category? I'll take "Three Things You Might Not Know About Angie/Three Things Angie Wishes Were True About Herself for $1,000."

Three Things You Might Not Know

1. I have an spooky-excellent memory...especially with names. I can meet someone, not see them for a year, and remember their name. Plus, I'll remember where they work, how many kids they have, what their favorite movie is, and the name of the song that was playing when we were first introduced. Sometimes this freaks me out because I really don't want to remember things like stories about people's irritable bowels and painful boil lancing, but there they are. "Oh yes, Francine, I remember you....you are the one who gets God-awful diarrhea from eating cottage cheese. Thank you for forever searing that into my brain."

2. You would not believe how much I despise the condiment known as mayonnaise. I cannot open a jar of it without gagging. Funny thing is, I can eat it mixed with things, as long as I don't have to see it or smell it in its original state. Oh, and I like tartar sauce, which is just mayo and pickles...go figure.

3. I failed my driver's test twice because I could not parallel park. I still am completely parallel-parking-challenged. I nearly have a panic attack when I am in the city and see that the only parking will require me do the math required to do this kind of parking. See...it's math! That's why I don't like it! It's all about space and angles and all that business. I will drive around for half an hour looking for a regular parking space before I attempt this kind of math.


Three Things I Wish Were True About Myself

1. I wish I could drink coffee all day long and not get a stomach ache. I love the taste, the smell, and the comfort of a nice strong cup of black coffee. The truth is, I can only manage about a cup in the morning and a half a cup in the afternoon, which is better for me anyway. I do love jasmine green tea a whole lot and that that has its own sensory goodness as well. Coffee is just so...satisfying.

2. I wish I could read in the car. I get terrible, terrible motion sickness and always have. Sometimes just reading or sending a text message (as a passenger, not a driver...) makes me want to heave. I always envied those people who could read a book or magazine on a road trip. I'm usually stuck reading the back of a Dramamine box. Once I was on a work trip to Costa Rica and had forgotten to pack Dramamine. Think you've traveled on bad roads in 100 degree + humidity temps? We spent two hours in an un-air-conditioned van, up a crazy-craggy mountain, going five miles an hour. I learned the Spanish words for "Pull over!" pretty quickly.

3. I wish I could sing well. I love to sing...the unfortunate part of all of this is that people, in general, do not wish to hear me sing. Much to the dismay (or sick amusement) of my family and friends, I will Karaoke all day long. Give me a couple of drinks and I'll break out in an impromptu song and dance (seriously, I need no prodding to perform on command). I guess I'd just like my audience's reaction to be, "Wow! What a voice!" instead of "Wow! My ears are bleeding!"

Maybe I should look into taking driving lessons and voice lessons -- maybe there's a teacher that could combine the two and cut me a deal... I just hope her bowels aren't irritable.

Greetings From My Thoughtful Spot

Today is just that kind of day... the kind where I am thinking and thinking and thinking. One wise bear named Winnie once said, "Did you ever stop to think, and then forget to start again?" In my case, usually not. I never seem to need a reminder to start thinking again -- in fact, I rarely never stop so how could I start again? I guess I'll just Pooh-Pooh that quote, Mr. Winnie.

So from my own personal Thoughtful Spot, here's a small sprinkling of my some of my speculations.



#1: I just whipped up some scrumptious scrambled eggs with roasted sweet potatoes and parmesan cheese. On the label, the cheese is described as "fancy." What exactly does this mean? What makes some cheese, ketchup, and apples "fancy?" Are they made/grown by someone that looks like this? ------->>>>>>

I hope so. I enjoy imagining a fancy dandy in a top hat hunched over a giant stainless steel pot, straining curds and whey and whatnot. I like to think my cheese automatically tastes fancier and more refined when I conjure up that particular cheese-making scenario.

#2: A patient at work told me today that the health club at the nursing home/senior housing community by my house is open to members ages 40 and older (although most of the members are 55+). They have a pool, workout equipment, a whirlpool, and the monthly fee is really inexpensive. I will be 40 in just three weeks and this is the first "older person" thing for which I have qualified (barring the crazy AARP offers that have been coming to me since I was 30). Is it insane that I am excited about this? Ellipticalling alongside Edna...aerobicizing with Agnes...backstroking with Bernice... I'm there!

#3: One of my favorite hobbies is playing word games on Facebook... especially Scramble. It's like Boggle -- within a three minute time time frame, you try and find as many words as possible within a grid of letters. I like to play this game in the live-rooms, in the wee hours of the morning. I play against people from all over the world and tend to see the same players in these rooms every morning. I've been playing so long now that I've begun to get to know who is really super good and silently curse when I see them appear on the score column. I think I'm becoming a poor sport. Or else I'm too competitive. Maybe I need a different hobby....fancy cheese making?

Because food and words are two of my favorite subjects (and two thirds of this entry), I shall leave you with another sage Pooh quote:

“It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?"”

Now that's what I'm talkin' about...

What is Sexy?

So this blog entry idea is blatantly yanked from Dena's Why Aren't I in Charge? blog. So thank you Dena...for doing some of my thinking for me this morning!


Doing dishes and laundry -- I don't think guys understand how attractive this is. I've has this conversation with many, many friends and we all agree.

Cleaning off my car the morning after a snowy night.

Telling me how fabulous a piece of new clothing or pair of shoes looks on me before asking how much it cost (or completely skipping the part about asking how much it cost).

Initiating time with the kids and then really, really enjoying it.

A completely oddball, irreverent sense of humor...and consistently (making an effort to) laugh at my dumb puns and jokes.

The ability to take responsibility for your own issues and admit when you are wrong (and tell me that I am always right...just kidding).

You can fix things around the house, but then still go see some romantic indie film with me...and probably cry more than I will.

A willingness to share your dessert or french fries...because I said I didn't want any so I didn't order my own, but then the delicious smell got to me.

Say "You're beautiful" and "I love you" on a regular basis.

You don't mind animals sleeping in the bed with us at night and will adjust your sleeping position to make room for said pets.

Cuddling the cats when you think no one is looking. Talking sweetly to the cats (or animals in general) gets you extra, major points.

For me, personally, anyone who loves cats automatically earns double (triple) points!

Hmmm... did I mention anything about cats?