She's a Lady

 Mallory, this one is for you!

As you may or may not know (or be able to gather by my general satirical nature/female-ness/posts about cats), there is a pretty good chance that- should my witty banter, lovably sensible personality, and cute, girlish looks not be enough for Mike- I'll inevitably become thee crazy cat lady. 

But is it really so bad?  If you haven't already watched the charmingly, eh, who am I kidding, the depressing mini-doc about crazy cat ladies, then you haven't been marred by a bias that these women are sad and lonely and slightly insane. 

Well, I'm here to bring forth, into the light, all the BENEFITS of this life-style.  Let's take a looksy, shall we?

1. Constant company!

You'd be surrounded by companions!  When one gets bored with you, another would, in theory, be waiting your temporary approval!

2. You don't have to pay for cuddles

....Aside from with your soul or in cat treats.  You're also less creepy than the guys who own real dolls (see also: short doc "Guys and Dolls: Real Dolls and the Men that Love Them.")

3. Saving $$ on heating bills

Anyone who has had a cat lay on their backs or feet or legs can tell you that their body heat is, if not almost too much, better than a heater.  Think of all the money you could save by using kitties as a living blanket, of sorts.

4. Perfect movie companions

My kitty will sit on the couch, cuddle, and watch movies with me with out ever complaining that it's too violent, too girly, too gory, or giving away the intricate plot details.  Plus, they don't chide you if you fall asleep during the movie, as, most likely, they are falling asleep as well.

5. If you die, and are all alone, you don't have to worry about body disposal.

 Seriously, your cats will probably eat you.  Once they get the taste of human blood, they will probably go on a rampage and avenge your death as well.

6. If they die...

You could make a fashionable coat from them- or even if they don't die, but just give them summer hair cuts.  But we all know that I prefer cat gloves over cat coats.  It seems a lot more humane, to me, to repurpose the cat instead of dumping their bodies in the dumpster before trash day.  For those of us who live in an apartment complex, it's not as though we can just bury them any where, cremation is expensive and then you have the question of what to do with cremains, so why not make something seasonably fun in memory of a beloved pet.  It's less creepy then walking in a house full of taxidermied cats as well.  At least, I think so.

7.  They ENCOURAGE naps!

 All I really want are more naps with out feeling guilty.  Cats encourage them.  More cats = more naps.

7. They're are not actual children, so you can save on child care.

8.  They're cats.

I mean, look at them.  Daaaaaw!

Life Calling

Okay.  It's been a little while since my last post, but I can explain... I have a boyfriend.  That I like.  The end.  Also, I got really fucking lazy with this thing- so lazy, in fact, that I spent the last five minutes trying to remember my password.  I don't even know why I have this account password protected.  Am I really afraid that someone is going to hack into it and start phantom blogging for me?  Because that would be awesome.  I'd be a lot like a Kardashian or a Snookie.  And though I love blogging and have at least one follower (shout out to  my cousin's boyfriend who told me that my boyfriend was crushing my creative spirit), I don't know that list blogging is going to be substantial enough to be my life's calling.

I've tried to compile my talents into this list:
-List blogging
-Chalk art
-Paper mache masks
-Cat snuggling
-Taking hideous photographs of animals
-Quoting movies
-Cher karaoke impressions
-Nail art

So that is my short list.  Here is my short list of things I am not too good at:
-Playing video games
-Long division
-Cake decorating (that doesn't involve zombies, zombie hands, or fake blood of any sort)
-I used to think that I wasn't very good at spelling, but I've seen the youth of today's contributions to the Internet and text messages and I'm pretty sure I could win a spelling bee against one of those brace-faced brats any day.

So, with my talents combined and sans the things I am not good at, here is a list of potential future life callings for me:

Cat Psychic Whisperer

I think I could pretty easily convince people that I could talk to their animals from the great beyond.


  

Halloween Costume Consultant

Remember ladies, slut is not a costume, it's a life style.

80's/90's Revivalist

I'd like to bring VHS tapes, movies, and Bowie's career back from the dead.  Southern Baptist preacher style.

Legendary Monster Photographer

Considering half of my photos of Scott look other-worldly any way, and considering I only use my iPhone's camera AND considering the popularity of Instagrams sepia tone/burnt toaster over lays, I think I could easily pull this off, with a possible Scifi... excuse me SYFY (WHAT THE HELL, for realz, what a stupid spelling) channel spin-off.  I guess, also seeing this SEDUCTIVE photo, I could also be a legendary monster hand model.  Hand model almost made this list, but I realize now, in comparison, it is just a pipe dream.  No one needs baby hands- they just aren't elegant enough.

 

Vietnamese Nail Salon Closer

Closer, as in baseball.  I'd come in and put the finishing touches- like little cat faces or Pac-Mans on women's (or men's) nails after the polish dust has settled.   The painting part... I'm not so good at, I could definitely be good at the finer detailing.

Car Detailer

Let's just say, I have a weird OCD tic (thing) that allows me to enjoy cleaning things with Q-Tips.  Actually, I'd only want to clean the inside... I don't like the feeling of car soap.  Someone else would have to do that.

Funeral Director

Doi.

Take This Julie Andrews!

Every year- this being the last- Oprah thinks she's effing Julie Andrews and talks about her "favorite things" followed by her modest display of giving her audience a slew of items they go bonkers over. I, however, never really find these gifts of her magi to be very interesting or exciting. If Oprah gave me, as an audience member, a cruise package I'd roll my eyes, ask her if she was also planning on paying me for the time I now have to take off work, as I don't get paid vacation working in a custard shop, and then ask her if she has read any sort of recent headlines about that fated cruise ship recently. Blah, blah, blah. As Ralphy got to play Santa on A Christmas Story, let me play Oprah and make a list of things I'd like to give away, if I could:

1. The Gift of Youth

Seriously, I'd give everyone a pack of Shriky-Dinks™ if I could.

2. The Gift of Remembrance

Various multi-disk sets of specials that ran on the Discover Heath so we can remember what life was like before Oprah took over our broadcasting system.

3. The Gift of Intentionality

Messenger Pigeons- Real communication is a dying art form. I think, by bringing back messenger pigeons, there may be some fun or at least romanticism reinstated into our lives- and we could talk outside of fakesbook and our text messages. Should this not be feasible, I'd like to give you all some postage stamps, so we can send letters back and forth.

4. The Gift of Culture

A number of Rancho Bravo tamales. I don't know how many- as many as you could handle before swearing them off forever, I suppose. I had one for dinner. This is my version of "If I could buy the world a Coke™".

5. The Gift of Literature

Scary Stories. I miss this book, as it was one of my childhood favorites, and it's yet to make Oprah's book club.

6. The Gift of Practicality

A Hatchet. Say the end of the world really is approaching us just over two years from now, or a zombie out break develops from the former swine flu, or your land lord tells you he/she will evict you should you not chop down that overgrown tree from your front yard that is tripping the little school children both to and from their educational pursuits OR Snowpocolypse™ 2010 part duex happens and you need said tree for firewood- yeah, you bet your cold ass you'd be thanking me.

7. The Gift of Hope

The bingo scratch ticket. It's a gift that may or may not keep on giving. Plus, I know one of my grandmothers would go bananas over it, as she loves to scratch and win.

8. The Gift of Joy

All red Starbursts™. I'm so nice, I'd give you a gift that takes all of the shitty flavors out of the candy we all love, or would love better with out the yellow and orange flavors.

9. A Timeless Gift

An Alarm Clock. This is specifically for my co-workers so they are never late for work again. I liked this model.

10. The Gift of Scott

And finally, a framed picture of Scott. Granted, I may be sending out Christmas cards with Scott's picture, they aren't framed. I wish I could frame them all for you. With metal, not plastic frames.

Beyond Belief

Here are some FACTS, some things of certainty that I know to be true. No, that I know to be beyond true. I can't tell you how I know this, because you wouldn't understand.

1. Tom Selleck was born with a mustache

He was a baby miracle.

2. I'm a God

Oh, as if you didn't know. Let me state my case. Throughout history, offerings and sacrifices have been made to God/many different gods. Every single cat I have ever had has brought me offerings and sacrifices- ranging anywhere from birds and mice to insects. There fore, they must view me as a God. Their food rains from the heavens, their cup never goes empty... of water. They lay at my feet, they bathe me. Yup. I'm pretty much a god.

3. Easy Bake Ovens leads to S&M

I don't know a single kid who owned an easy bake oven (the real kind, not this plastic crap they pass off on the markets now) who didn't burn the shit out of themselves when using it... and then go back for more. Which brings me to this Pavlovian point- we were trained, as children, that burning ourselves on such ovens, essentially that pain would only lead to a treat afterward. You can do the math from there.

4. There's no such thing as chiropractors

Chiropractors are make-believe. Just like Santa and Rush Limbaugh. They don't exist. What you believe to be a chiropractor is actually just a swindler from the 1920's, trying to cheat you out of your money, see. There's also no such thing as a single visit to a "chiropractor", no matter what they tell you- you will always have to come back a week later for a "readjustment" and then a week later to readjust that readjustment. Forever. Until you realize you are out of money or you figure out the shell game they're playing with you.

5. If you're in a horror movie, you will forget how to drive

Should you find yourself in a horror movie or at least a similar situation, no matter how long you have been driving, just understand one thing- you will forget how to drive. You will forget your seat belt. And you will not make it more than 50 yards in a car. You're better off walking- yes walking- as running also seems like a dumb idea, because you will trip and fall and get injured and have to walk anyway. Save yourself the trouble. Just walk from the get go.

6. Monopoly is used as a torture device

China and parts of Russia both use Monopoly as torture mechanisms. They make POW's play the game with each other, in its entirety, until one of them cracks.

7. Your one missing sock does not end up in some abyss

It usually gets sucked through the dryer hose or falls behind the washing machine.

G-Units of Time

Sometimes I really, truly believe I am an old person trapped in a young person's body- until I reviewed the things that my grandmothers enjoy, many of which I do not. But then, upon further review, I found almost an equal amount of things that these women enjoy that I find myself also in agreement with. Below are lists of things they like and I do not, followed by something that we both can agree upon:

Glass Art

Glass art makes me want to vomit- which I'm sure would be more artistically interesting then the blown glass at any rate, not to mention more intentional. My grandmother(s) liking glass art only confirms my suspicions that it is intended fort the eyes of the elderly only.

Garage Sales

When I was younger, I remember going garage sale-ing with both of my grandmothers, separately of course. I still garage sale, as do they. Some of my annual Christmas gifts come from yard sales, and some of theirs will as well.

Irish Literature

My grandma McEldery loves Irish literature, so much so that she has given me several novels. These literary works are often heavily laden with romance, which is not really the type of reading I prefer to do in my spare time. Grandma's digging it, though.

Harry Potter

My grandmother was actually the one who got me reading Harry Potter- unintentionally back during my freshman year of high school. Originally given to my younger brother as a Christmas gift after my grandmother read the first few books and really liked them. When Michael chose not to read it, I decided to read it for myself, as not to let a book go to waste. I ended up really liking it- and still do, no embarrassment there... at least it's not the Twilight saga, which I will not ever read, or watch (and what little I have seen has made me vomit in the aforementioned art-like style that would give Chihuly a run for his money).

Slot Machines

Grandma Flo loves 'em. We call them, in her case and her case only, the 'chines'. I've never been into video poker. Too rich for my blood and I've never bothered to learn the rules.

Scratch Tickets

Scratch tickets, on the other hand, we both enjoy. They're cheap and entertaining. I also like them because I don't have to spend a significant amount of time losing, unlike with video poker.

Liver

I think it's an old person thing. I'll be honest, I've never had it, and now that I'm a vegetarian, never will. Whenever I smell it cooking, it also makes me want to vomit in technicolor. I hate thinking about eating liver nearly as much as I hate smelling it. I hate thinking about eating a meat that's function during it's prime is to secrete bile. How could that possibly be delicious, granny?

Crushed Ice

Crushed ice, however, is delicious. It's one anorexic meal I can really delve into. Whenever I am at my Grandma McEldery's house, even if it is the dead of winter in Montana, I will take a Styrofoam cup, as those are the to-go cups I find she carries most frequently in her pantry, and topple it with crushed ice to eat on my way to wherever I am off to.

Dickies

I don't like turtle neck shirts to begin with, and I especially don't like them when they aren't even an entire shirt. I don't know why my grandmother likes them so much. When I am going to wear clothes, aside from under garments and those that are similar, I want them to be in their entirety- I want my money's worth, dammit!

Crew Neck Sweatshirts

Who doesn't like a nice crew neck sweatshirt? I know my grandmas and I do. It accentuates our neck-line the way hoodies just cannot.

Lawrence Welk

What the hell is this shit? Look, classic television is one thing, but Lawrence Welk... I just will not watch. I'll watch the Saturday Night Live parodies, but that's about as close as I will get to seeing eye to eye with my granny on this one.

Golden Girls

This is the type of classic television I was talking about. I can easily share a chuckle or two over the episode where the ladies go to buy condoms with either of my grandmothers. Yeah, something about those women make that topic of conversation less awkward, as with many other would be taboo subjects.

Beyonce

My grandma Flo loves Beyonce. She's told me that she thinks Beyonce is hot. I can't argue there, but I'm not really a huge fan. She, on the other hand, is.

Elvis

Now here is some older music that I can tolerate. I'm not saying I have Elvis on my iPod, I do not, and I would never bring him back from the dead, let alone believe he is or at one point post-mortem, was undead- but when Elvis comes on, sure, why not?

Perms

May my hair never be the length suitable for a perm. I do love, though, how happy my grandmother's get after they get perms. I also love the chemical smell. That's about the only common ground I could ever find with my grandma's on that hairstyle choice.

Hair Combs

I have been known, from time to time, to wear the occasional hair comb to hold back my flowing locks. Please know this of me, I don't like sparkly hair combs or hair combs with butterflies or other accouterments either.

Box Wine

Common! I have some class. Charles Shaw at the very least- the bottle is reusable. Grandma, on the other hand, does not give her wine drinking this same consideration.

Boxes of Petit Fours

Give me a box of mini-cakes any day. Better yet, give my grandma McEldery a box of petit fours for Christmas and I'll just take half home for myself, which is what happens every year.

Gaudy Jewelery

Grandma Flo loves herself some bling. She's more hip-hop then I am, upon adding this to her Beyonce fetish. If it sparkles, she's on it! Or rather, it's on her. Not on me, though, I'm a jewelery minimalist these days.

Gaudy Nick-knacks

Grandma Flo collects angels, grandma McEldery collects fairies and elves, I, collect little toys, zombie action figures, and glass cats. We all collect these items as gifts or from yard sales and thrift stores.