Poppy Cedes

Twitter is perfect today.

Have a phone interview for a job on Tuesday but for now… it’s all about EZA’s birfdy and letting the girls know about their new home. But, while I’m on the road and otherwise engaged please watch classic videos of the kittos.

Allie:

Ripley:

Georgie-girl:

That’s what’s on Dawg‘s desk. How do I know? Because I’m sitting at it, typing to you. And when I look over to my left I see a shitload of my stuff that I brought down here so that I can live here temporarily while we look for a place of our own.

As expected, leaving the cats wrecked me. I can’t think about it for too long without bursting into tears. I left my kids at home. I left them in capable hands, but they’re not Dawg’s and my hands, which is where I want them to be. Incentive to hurry the hell up and find a place to live.

Also, saying goodbye to EZA and LLA was painful, but… it really hurt much worse when Break Boy and HLW said goodbye to me. Break Boy and I have years 6-8 then years 18-34 together. HLW and I have my years 14-34 (her years 15-35) together. These are lifelong friends. And I just left them. And now my eyes are all wet. No wonder I have such a splitting headache.

I totally forgot to say goodbye to PiC yesterday. I feel bad about that, after all he did for me to send me off right. But… what would we have done? Given an uncomfortable “see ya” hug? When I crossed into Connecticut this morning, my first time ever being there, I was reminded again by his birthplace that I forgot to say goodbye to him. Sorry… I’ll make it up to you in the future by babysitting Too Legit and Nigel because, um, I’m just in the next state over, it’s really not that far. Just gimme 7+ hours notice, kthxBAI. (Peee Essss – Thanks for not letting anyone sing at me.)

I just had Chinese food with Dawg’s parents. They love me. Life is very good.

Life will be made better when Dawg gets home from work tonight and slips into (hee, our… ok, ok, HIS bed but I get to sleep there EVERY NIGHT NOW, wheeeeee!) bed next to me, and of course a little later on when the girls can join us in that bed in our new home together, but I’m hardly complaining. Everything feels amazingly right, as I never doubted it would.

blah blah blah and now suddenly the kitties and I are at Break Boy’s and HLW’s house! Yay! There are a few things left at the apartment that Break Boy is helping me move tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go back by myself to make sure it’s clean there and then I’m all done living in the house of crazy.

The girls are secluded in a very large room of the house, tucked behind an office, so the square footage total is (um, I’m bad at this) perhaps 200 square feet? I dunno, huge enough for 3 cats to roam. Ripley keeps jumping out into the hallway, wandering into the bathroom, then running back into the office/guest room when she realizes the house is A LOT bigger outside the door.

Allie and Georgie are randomly making appearances from unknown hiding spots. They are overwhelmed, but they’re excited to have new things to smell and play in and topple over.

Break Boy has informed me that we are going to watch So You Think You Can Dance? tonight, which will be the first time I’ve seen the show on actual television for this entire season.

I seriously should have moved in about a month ago, it’s great there!

Why is it that when I’m trying to study all three girls want to be on my book?

Completely rhetorical. I know it’s because my book is soft and fluffy.

PS – I promise I am left-handed, but Photo Booth by default takes mirror image photos unless I customize the preferences. I need to do that.

Look what the girls just sent me, with a little help from Dawg:

SQUEEEEE!

Bleep. Love you all.

Allie’s birthday was a little different than your average 11-year-old’s party. In fact, she requested NO party at all because she’s a loner, Dottie, a rebel, so instead the following sequence of events occurred:

1. I took her outside for a little look-around. I held on to her the entire time. She looooooved it. I told her several times, “happy birthday, baby girl” and gave her kisses on her head.
2. I left her in charge while I went out to my cousin’s play and had cupcakes with my other cousin for her birthday, but I mentioned it was Allie’s birthday so we changed the cupcake consumption to a celebration of Allie’s birthday. Yay, Allie!
3. I came home and waited up for Dawg who was arriving at tired o’clock then Allie got a terrified look on her face when the door opened but she settled right down as soon as she realized who was home.
4. We all slept.
5. I woke up and took Allie outside again. The breeze was a bit strong so she closed her eyes and inhaled the air. She loved it.
6. I made meatballs then when the meatballs were finished I cut the very first one up for Allie. She purred and purred while she ate it. The other girls don’t like meatballs so Allie got it allllllll to herself:

Here are photos of the making of the meatballs.

I know you were expecting something completely different than what I’m presenting to you for Allie’s birthday, but Allie is a quirky girl just like her mama so you get Quirky Party Celebration Wheeeeee! Fun instead of the same old, same old.

The last thing the male flight attendant said to us before the plane finished taxiing to the gate in FRANCE (woot! i’m home!): “Please do us one favor by talking as loud as possible on your cell phones about things the rest of us don’t care about.” I chose not to call Dawg from the plane.

Something I have learned: I am incapable of having an intelligent verbal conversation after being basically mute for the last 8 days.

Something else I have learned: I am never leaving the kitties again. Never, ever, never. Until next weekend when Dawg and I (and half the blogosphere) go to TequilaCon. Poor kitties.

I guilt tripped the instructor: After asking for clarification about the laws of reporting child pornography found on computers I never asked another question in class. Yesterday during our “capture the flag” exercise the instructor came up to me and said, “you’ve been really quiet this week, how’s everything going?” ::blink blink:: Sometimes I think I’m Truman from The Truman Show. This was one of those moments. It’s not that I am egotistical, it just takes me by surprise when other people even bother to remember me.

Speaking of remembering, I was remembered at RagLan Road: I went into the gift shop at RR to look around for RR shot glasses (they don’t have any! what kind of redonkulousness is that?!). I went to the counter to pay for the one item I did want to buy and the guy behind the counter said he remembered me from my last visit. Why am I so memorable if I am not Truman? What the hell? There are, like, one billion-ish people walking through that gift shop in a 6-month period of time and yet he remembers me?

There are always presents for me when I return: One cat food throw-up and one furball throw-up. I’m sure if I look a little harder I’ll find a present from the third girl. So nice of them since I never bring them home anything! (I alllllllmost bought them cute Disney cat food dishes but I decided against it since they’re plastic and the vet recommends not giving plastic to Allie who has kitty acne.)

Celebration will occur: TODAY IS ALLIE’S BIRTHDAY! Thank you to Catster for reminding me. I’ve remembered about 20 times in the last two months but the day kinda crept up on me. I need to go to the store and buy party supplies. Party kitty in the house! (yes, Dawg and I will take photos.)

Last night I was talking on the phone with Dawg* about how I might not post anything at all today to which he replied “Poppy CEDES” (he actually called me that) then lectured me about not posting. I thought that was adorable.

That was the tell portion. Here’s the show portion:

That’s my desktop photo. :love:

Yes, I am fully aware that I’m a dork. Donut care.

*Anyone who recalls correctly knows that I hate the phone. I just find it awkward because I’m a very visual person and there’s nothing for me to look at while on the phone except things that distract me away from paying attention to the person I’m talking to. But… well, duh, for him I make an exception. And only for him.

When something pisses me off I cannot articulate myself until I am pulled out of the moment. Preferably by a wookie sound.

I really enjoy making videos with no purpose. As in, videos just for the sake of videos. I don’t do too much in life without a purpose, a goal, a reason because I haven’t known how. I’m learning how.

I am allergic to four things. Would you like to guess what the 4 things are? There’s no prize for your guesses, except my amusement at your answers, and your chance to be very creative.

I still really enjoy balancing my checkbook. You have NO idea how psyched I was that it balanced to the penny when I was reconciling my vacation trip receipts. OMG. How the hell did that happen? It’s like magic, only with math. Math magic!

I felt the head of depression again on the drive home last night and I started screaming at myself in the car, “seriously? SERIOUSLY?! YOU’RE DEPRESSED?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO BE DEPRESSED ABOUT?!” and then I stepped back (figuratively) and realized that, sure, ok, I did just make it over one whole hurdle in my life, but life isn’t ever going to stop having hurdles, and I do have a lot on my plate, that I am someone who is affected by circumstances around me, and that I need to cut myself some slack and do that “one thing/day at a time” business in order to sanely get through it all. I will make it to the other side. And the other side will be a very fantastic place to be.

I know I have 3 girl kitties, but taking care of Tink (photos/video will appear, let’s FOCUS people) has made me psyched about getting a boy kitty. I hope that boy kitty realizes what he’s getting into… Ripley will glare, hiss, and bop him on the head then tumble him. Georgie will lick him then jump on his head. Allie will rip him a new asshole then go cower from him. Ahhhhh, good times, good times.

I have not mailed my Infragard application yet. Know why? Because I don’t have an envelope big enough to send the application. What kind of fucked up reason is that? Poppy! GO GET A FUCKING ENVELOPE!!! (elevator music) Envelope acquired! See???

That’s one big. ass. envelope.

I am seeing my friends Essdy and His Lovely Wife this coming weekend. (Notice how I always call the wives of my guy friends His Lovely Wife? I won’t tell you why, but I have a reason. I enjoy being the way I am.) Their dog Molly is a jumper. This will be the first time I’ve been to their house in… probably a year, at least. HLW is pregnant with twins! I totally called the genders, two girls.

Next weekend (the one after this coming weekend) I hope to go to Break Boy’s and His Lovely Wife’s house. If Dawg is in town he will be the guest of honor. I am excited for Dawg to meet a few people, but Break Boy is highest on the friends list. Break Boy will get us drunk. Break Boy will make Dawg play GH3 (as in, he’ll trick Dawg into wanting to play it). We will end up staying up until two in the morning (that’s late for France) playing GH3 drunk. We will stay over. We will wake up to birds chirping and pancakes (or waffles). It will be fanfuckingtastic. AND there’s a Dunkin Donuts on the way to their house, so Dawg can have his large French vanilla ice coffee, light with cream and 4 Splendas.

I would like it to be May.

The end.