My friends, those are the wild, crazed eyes of one pissed off cat.

I'm not sure who hates going to the vet more. He makes this AWFUL howling noise when I put him in the carrier. He's so loud that my neighbor came over to find out if he was being sawed in half or giving birth to a Tyrannosaurus.

Of course, at the vet's office is no better because OMG WHAT ARE THOSE SMELLS and OMG WHAT IS SNIFFING MY CAGE, which is followed by the ever popular GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!

I was more unnerved by some of the pet owners in the waiting area, most of whom I would have chosen to spay or neuter. You know, to control the ick population.

The doctor was very nice and said overall, Elliott's very healthy after checking his vitals and examining him. After vaccines were administered came the most unpleasant part: the return to the mobile prison. That cat has never clung to me for dear life before. Ugh, it was a chore getting him back in that thing. I have the scratches to prove it.

He cried all the way home. It just breaks my heart to hear him in that cage.

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He only sits in this thing when it's on the sofa. Never the floor. Never. Srsly.

It makes sense really when you apply cat logic to it. After all I bought this cat bed specifically because the floor is concrete and the bottom padding on the bed is so thick and thus more comfortable. Right?

*sigh*

When will I learn?

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Elliott's new favorite activity is sitting in the windowsill and watching the world in his limited view. He's probably watching all the birds around the bird-feeder or my neighbors having sex. Could be either.

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Super Tuesday is just around the corner. If there is voting available where you live and you are registered to vote, then do it. I don't care who you vote for... just vote.

If you aren't registered to vote, then REGISTER!

I'm Elliott and I approve this message.

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New month, new banner. Can't see it? Bypass your cache.

I don't have much to say right now, so enjoy this photo of Elliott.

Check out previous banners in the archive.

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Last night, Elliott crawled onto the sofa, plopped down after getting situated, then rest his head on the arm rest and let out the most melodramatic sigh in the history of melodramatic sighs. You know, it's understandable he'd be exhausted after a busy day of CONSTANT NAPPING.

But you've got to admit, he's pretty damn cute.

The bedding is a quilt cover I found on sale at Ikea. Homer says it's called a duvet, but I say quilt cover because that's what the package said. Duvey sounds French and fancy, two things I am not.

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I'm making an executive decision to stop calling my kitchen small and instead call it cozy.

Tonight I made pizza with pesto, sun-dried tomatoes and Kalamata olives. I may have been a little liberal with the feta cheese.

Elliott has also made an executive decision to have his bed on the sofa. He's unconventional like that.

With all this moving stuff going on, I completely forgot to make any plans for New Year's Eve. So, homemade pizza and Ani DiFranco it is.

I hope you have a happy and safe New Years.

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One of the advantages to not having one big birthday celebration, is having many smaller ones. It feels like all month long I've been celebrating my birthday with various lunches, dinners and one very spontaneous day trip to Portland.

This morning I had breakfast with the lovers former known as The Roommates. Not only did this mean I would get a temporary reprieve from the ghetto I now call home, but also I'd get to eat at one of my old haunts, Orange Table.

I have mentioned my love of certain fictionalized terrorism here and here. The three of us used to stop whatever we were doing to watch Keifer Sutherland kick terrorist ass every Monday until we became more interested in saving the cheerleader and the world.

However, after my gift, 24 may be the winner.

No. The tits aren't real. I'm on South Beach, thank you.

This box contained all kinds of awesome. There were many envelopes with my instructions to complete a secret mission.

Click each pic to see the larger view.

I have some seriously great friends. (Having Elliott as "Jack Meower" is an excellent touch.)

To see the whole photo set, make clicky here.

Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have some missions to accomplish.

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The toys I bought for him.

The toys he actually plays with.

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I present you the new face of herpes!

Well. thankfully my herpes is in remission right now. Look no blisters.
Not one, just a cold sore. Oh. That's herpes. Ugh, it's back.

Well, okay...it's not really herpes, but it looks like herpes.

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This pretty much sums up my Sunday.

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Moving sucks. For both of us.

Luckily, it will be over on Monday.

Mostly.

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Yesterday was Julie's birthday. Guess what she got? The flu. Yay!

Poor thing. She's been puking all morning. I'm not too worried about catching it because a few weeks ago, I helped myself to a heaping dose of the flu vaccine courtesy of my employer. As I told Jason, I could make out with Julie and other than the disgust and shame I'd feel for that gross act of heterosexuality, I'd be perfectly fine.

Elliott however is not fairing so well. Julie brought home a bunch of helium-filled balloons someone gave her, apparently forgetting about The Great Balloon Freak-Out of 2002. That's when I bought a bunch of balloons to take to work the next day and Elliott WIGGED OUT SOFA KING BAD. Apparently balloons defy all logic to him and freak his shit. They are hidden in the bathroom right now, but he still senses their presence so he's being VERY cautious.

At least now, he won't follow me into the bathroom.

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Jason had a little fun today with Comic Life.

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...aside from that whole sex with men thing. Oh, and an unfortunately body glitter incident. But other than those, it's this.

Elliott is in a social network called "Catster". Like Friendster, but for cats. Get it?

So if any feline bloggers out there wants to be his friend, he's chill with that.

Oh, and if you do join, I HIGHLY recommend immediately going to you account preferences and modifying your Feline Friend Contact Preferences. Otherwise you will have about a bazillion requests from true Cat People®. People with five, six...even NINE cats.

(Freaks.)

P.S. Let's party.

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Eventually this blog will be retitled: Shitty Camera Phone Pics of My Cat.

He's hella cute.

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If he could talk, I think Elliott would say this is the best present ever. The runner-up would be the paper bag it came in which he also like to hide in. Elliott loves him some paper sack. Our living room usually has a bag from Trader Joe's on the floor for his amusement.

The purple cat toy you see in the bottom right corner is something Elliott largely ignores. Again...he'd rather play with a paper sack than the four dollar cat toy, and yet I never learn to stop buying things like that.

Julie said we should name him and I suggested Michael since Elliott was named after Elliot on thirtysomething.

She said that was stupid and decided a more appropriate and dignified name would be Mr. Peepers.

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Homer always says when he doesn't have anything to post, he writes about his cats.

I'll just post a picture.

Jason (The Roommate's Boyfriend™/The Male Roommate™) took this. I think he's in love with Elliott (The Cat™), but I mean...c'mon...who wouldn't be?

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After a week of combat, my allergies have planted their flag in my bloody carcass and declared me their bitch. I'm completely useless this weekend. So far I've watched Mean Girls with and without the commentary and then every single special feature the disc holds because oddly enough, while I am feeling well I have no attention span however when I'm feeling like shit I can watch TV all day.

I'm testing the effects of sugar-free Reece's peanut butter cups on my allergies. My hypothesis is they will help. I don't really have a placebo to complete my research but honey graham cookies from Trader Joe's seem to work well in a pinch.

Is the adage "feed a cold, starve a fever, binge an allergy attack?" If so, I have that covered.

Meanwhile, while I am trying my best to hold up my head while enduring an antihistamine-induced fugue state, The Cat™ is demanding my full attention RIGHT NOW. Even though the whole world revolves around his needs and there are three...count them...THREE PEOPLE in this house who lavish him with attention every moment he is awake, it's apparently just not enough. He's currently trying to not only sit on my lap but also push the keyboard pull-out back under the desk because he knows I'd rather type than focus on him.

Sigh.

Sometimes I wish he was a kid and I could just put in a Wiggles DVD and sit him in front of it to occupy his time.

(This filling up space with cat chat isn't so hard.)

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The other night, I got up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. I climbed back in bed and looked at the clock. It was about 1:45 AM. I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep. I could hear a small storm outside. Light rain, a bit of lightening. Nothing too major.

I looked over at the door and noticed it was cracked open a little. That means The Cat must be in the room. I close the door when I go to bed, but don't shut it, so he can push it open if he wants.

Soon, he jumped on my bed and walked next to me until he was near my shoulder. And then, he did something he never does.

"MEEEEOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!"

You have to understand, this cat is trained well. Normally he sleeps all through the night and knows not to bother us. Sometimes he wakes The Roommate when she has hit her snooze alarm too many times and he knows she's shouldn't be late to work that day. How he knows is beyond me but somehow he does.

I don't have that problem. I usually wake up before my alarm clock and if I do hit the snooze, it's only once. But no, this morning, this 1:45-sh in the AM morning, he decided to chat.

"MEEEEOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!"

I was still awake so I put my finger to my lips and shushed him.

"SSSSSsssshhhhhh!!!!"

I laid my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes. Then I hear what I can only imagine is the feline equivalent of a whisper.

"meeeeoooooowwwww."

It wasn't a sad, pathetic "mew". It was the same meow as before, only more hushed. Breathier. Quieter.

I started to laugh, but didn't want to encourage that kind of behavior, so I shushed him again.

And then...he did it again.

"meeeeoooooowwwww."

I didn't know whether to punish him or be impressed in his nuances.

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I don't have anything remotely funny or profound to share today, so instead I'll just complain and moan. But first, something of the non-pissing and bitching variety.

Yesterday, I hit a turning point in the eternal question "what do I want to do next with my life?" I had an epiphany. A moment of brilliance. It's too soon to go into in a public forum, but suffice it to say, I am stoked about it. I was excited and goofy, much like a Muppet on crack (MOC), only not the same type of MOC. More like Dr. Bunsen Honeydew. (Beeker is such his bitch.)

So, any who...I am energized about this new possibility and more will be revealed later. Now, back to the bitching.

Today is hot and humid. It seems this year's monsoon season seems to have begun. It's muggy and gross and my hair is doing very strange things today. It's not curly. It's not wavy. It's just crappy.

And I have a headache. Actually I should say I've been having headaches. I think some of them my from just being tired or maybe the heat. I've been getting up a half hour earlier than usual. Who knew that half hour would kick my ass so hard. And the heat. THE FUCKING HEAT. It's at the point where it's hot all the time, even when the sun goes down. When I walked out the door this morning at five a.m., I was his by a wall of steamy warmth that made me want to go back to bed instead of to the gym.

But I did have a fun moment this morning. There is a cat that lives in our community. He is an outdoor cat and way too friendly. One day, The Roommate pet him and he followed her all the way to our door. I'd be worried about a cat staying outside in our dreadful summer weather but I think he's okay. He doesn't seem dehydrated or hungry. In fact, I would classify him as morbidly obese, so I don't think he's skipping any meals.

So I walked to my car and I saw him trotting along and I looked at him and meowed. Having an extremely vocal cat for ten years, I have mastered a very realistic meow. He stopped and looked at me and meowed back. Then I meowed again. Then he did. This went on a few more times until I opened my car and got in.

I wonder what our conversation was. Since I can imitate the sounds, but don't know the language, maybe it was something like this.

Me: "Fight purr."
Cat: "You talking to me?"
Me: "I have a grass bird."
Cat: "Huh?"
Me: "Hunt the dusty water."
Cat: "That doesn't even make sense. Are you high?"
Me: "Food nap warm."
Cat: "Are you stupid or something?"
Me: "Mouse grass sun."
Cat: "Okay buddy. I gotta get going. Go wait for the short bus on the corner."
Me: "Me need night scratch."
Cat: "Fucking foreigners."

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The Cat

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My cat peed on the notebook I use for my sign language class. I should be mad at Elliott but I know it?s my fault. He?s only done this a couple of times, and it?s always when I?ve neglected to clean out his litter box. If I had disposable income, I could get one of those robotic litter boxes, or I guess I could just clean out the nonrobotic one when I'm supposed to.

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