Where Have I Been These Past 8 Months?

Last year, I made a promise to myself to continue writing—tangential to work stuff and instead create content solely for my entertainment, focusing on topics that I actually give two shits about. It felt so important to me, but in retrospect, I guess that wasn’t enough. Sure, creating, writing, and producing my own projects have been a goal of mine since I graduated college in 2011, but after examining my life these past six years, I’ve never really followed through with it. I felt stuck in a hamster wheel this entire time—always chasing wild ideas and never actually putting in the time to put words together to tell the stories I wanted to share with the world.

God, that’s depressing.

Writing has always been my go-to outlet and I’d like to think I’m half-decent at it. But someone recently shared a piece of insight that basically led me to re-explore my own priorities and goals: “I want to do it, but I guess I would’ve done it by now. It’s one thing to want something, and it’s another to actually take strides to make it happen. If you haven’t done it by now, do you really, truly care about it?”

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My Baby Cat is Sick.

The love of my life, Dany, has uveitis, which is apparently a common eye disease in cats.

After a hefty (I’m talking 400 fucking dollars) bill from her visit to the vet, I’m to give her two different eyedrop medications and two oral medications twice a day. All of which Dany hates with a fiery, fiery passion. So much so that I’m pretty sure Dany is the reason one of the eyedrops went mysteriously missing after two days.

I was also instructed to go to an animal opthamologist, which I certainly will do once I can afford to drop another very large sum of money. Ugh. I’ve read the uveitis could lead to chronic eye disease and maybe even blindness—it feels terrible to not be able to afford to go to a specialist right away. Can we all take a moment to pity my poor, poor kitty? (I could not restrain myself from that rhyme.) In all seriousness, I’m very worried. But I’m hoping the eyedrops and medication will do the trick.

See that cloudiness in her eyes? Ah. Breaks my heart.


What it feels like to own a “real” pet for the first time ever

My roommates and I adopted a kitten a few weeks ago.

We made a pact that if and when we do part ways, one of us will take full ownership of the cat. And that person is me.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I’ve never had a “real” pet. (I’m defining a “real” pet as one that you can literally pet. Goldfish and Hard Rock teddy bears do not count.) So you can imagine my intrigue and apprehension that came with jumping aboard this pet-owner train. Questions I asked myself: Is it emotionally worth it? Becoming attached to an animal, who could possibly not give a crap about me in return or inevitably pass away in due time? What if I totally mess her up due to my noviceness? Does this mean I can’t have chocolate out anymore?!

All of this aside, the past two weeks felt like I’ve been reliving my childhood and shaping it into the starry-eyed version I saw on the Disney Channel (I’m referring to the Zoogs Disney Channel, which is pre-Even Stevens and Lizzy McGuire). More Dunkaroos, please.

Captain Daenerys Phoebs Tonks Bluth. (The nerdiest cat in the world)I was never really a huge fan of the felines, as I always preferred playing with dogs. But when I first played with Dany, there was something to her aloofness, curiosity, independence, and random spurts of affection (she snuggled up on my leg the first time I put her on my lap), that made an instant connection. She kind of reminded me of myself, only in cat form. (I tried to put that in a non-creepy, non-douchey way, but there’s really no way around it.) And she never meowed once. Actually, it’s only been recently that she’s become a tad bit vocal, and that’s only if she wants to come into a room. And it’s really hard to ignore it.

But aside from select peeing incidents and gassy upsets, Capt. Dany is incredibly sweet—at least for now.

Here’s to hoping I don’t fuck this up.