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August 14, 2006
Out of L.A.
I'm heading out of L.A. tomorrow, up to Redding to commune with the sun and Penny and my parents, and these lovely ladies, my best friends from high school:
It's good. I've spent too much time in my apartment and my desire for organizational and hygienic perfection has perhaps made me a little nutty. Tonight I CONSOLIDATED MY ADDRESS BOOKS.
I'm happy to head home, to a place where people have mullets sans irony, and where, when you take your cats to the vet to get sedatives so they can have a 2-martini lunch of an 8-hour drive, you don't come out $600 poorer and with a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress syndrome. For your CAT. Who, btw, now has her own PTSS bunker.
The vet in fact recommended I create several around my apartment, but shiite. I do want to date again one day, and I can't expect to bring a man home to a cat shanty town.
You can't tell your vet this, however. When he's all enthusiastically describing the labyrinth of cardboard boxes you should be constructing to create a zen-space for your neurotic animal, you can't really shout out, "MY GOD MAN, HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO EVER GET LAID?"
Instead, you build a little oasis out of your DVD box (which can be conveniently stowed in the event of guests) and hope to goodness it works.
MY GOD MAN, I NEED TO GET OUT OF THIS TOWN.
Posted by jen at August 14, 2006 11:37 PM
Comments
"cat shanty town"
you're hilarious
the things you will do for that cat!
:)
Posted by: carolyn at August 15, 2006 07:26 AM
I too go above and beyond with my catherd and since I do not expect a man at any time in my future, well, I go ahead and just do it. I have a pile of tissue paper in the middle of my dining room because all three use it for crinkly sitting, hide'n'peek, just plain hiding, snacking on corners, losing toys in the midst of the pile and spending 20 doofussy minutes trying to find them, and getting high on catnip in the middle of the pile. I have 3 cardboard tubes the kitten likes to "skateboard" in and out of. There is a cat tree in the sliding glass door, a scratcher in the living room, two cat nappers (1 in my bedroom, one in guestroom), and finally the all the cats think the bunkbeds in the guestroom are theirs and no one elses. The amount of fur on the beds is simply amazing and quite frankly, beyond me. As for PTSS places - those would be both my closets (they will toss clothing to the floor to make room for themselves), under the bed, under the covers, behind the sofa, and somewhere else I have yet to find, but when I can't find the cats in all the usual places, I know they are in the "secret hideaway" that I can't even find!
Posted by: Samantha at August 15, 2006 10:30 AM
Jen: The vet in fact recommended I create several around my apartment, but shiite. I do want to date again one day, and I can't expect to bring a man home to a cat shanty town.
Gold. I had a tear run down my cheek and everything.
Isn't it amazing how different but exactly the same we looked during school now we're "all grown up", well at least grown-up in a legal sense.
Posted by: daniel at August 15, 2006 06:45 PM
Thank you for the laugh. Ethel has PTSD? That's the kind of diagnosis that makes folks in other places talk about California.
Until I have a confirmed date lined up, the paper grocery bag will continue to reside in the middle of the living room floor. Natasha likes to sit inside it.
Posted by: Dagny at August 15, 2006 09:22 PM
Any man would be chased away by the grit of cat litter underfoot in my apartment (no Dyson here, though the one I have works OK). And if it weren't that, it would be the terrible manners--I had a friend visit last weekend and she was perturbed by the vat who insisted on accompanying her to the bathroom.
Oh well. I just leave the closet door open and when he needs to hide Orville winds up on the top shelf among the hats & mittens. When I had no furniture they got a cardboard bunker, but now they can make do with hiding amid the laundry.
Congrats on the job!
Posted by: Anne at August 18, 2006 10:35 AM