GracieWatch 2013: I have no need for your bourgeois bandages

Neither do I have a need for your so-called "cone". I'm a busy kitteh...busy looking cute and batting my bandage around on the floor.

By the end of Monday, Gracie had peeled off her bandage and starting batting it around in the floor like a toy mouse. Shortly thereafter, she peeled her Cone of Shame off and threw it across the room. I was going to leave it on her, but she couldn't get through the cat door to the litter boxes. I've left the cone off of her for 36 hours, and so far she's left her mouth alone. She's snoozy and sweet and is doing okay with her meds.  She also looks surprisingly normal, even with part of her lower jaw missing. 

More updates to come. Thanks everyone for the good wishes!

Monday Visual Inspiration: Paws crossed for Gracie

Gracie's surgery to remove part of her lower jaw is today.

My hope is that we can get all the cancerous tissue but still leave her with a mouth she can eat with and, dare I say it, a face we can all live with. The vet dentist seems to think that she'll do quite well--apparently cats heal a lot faster than dogs.  Paws crossed, everyone!

Really? Again?! Are you kidding me?!?!

Both Hazel and Gracie went to the vet last week for a routine checkup and teeth cleaning. Everyone's blood work and urine came out fine, though the vet found a little lump/mass of tissue on Gracie's lower gums. She removed it easily during the dental cleaning and sent it off for a histology report.

It came back as low-grade fibrosarcoma.

Great. Now I have another cat with cancer.

So this week, we'll go visit the veterinary oral surgeon and talk about how much of Gracie's gum and lower jaw may need to be removed to make sure we get all the cancer cells. Supposedly, this surgeon is really good, and she won't look terrible or really really different after the surgery, but I'd like to see some before and after pictures. After surgery, we'll probably have to do some kind of follow-up treatment. I gave Maddy chemo pills for almost 18 months when she had small-cell lymphosarcoma during 2008-2010. Funny now that I think about it, Maddy finally crossed the Rainbow Bridge last week in 2010.

Thanks, Universe. Appreciate the hell out of this.

Wat? Ai no haz cansurr, just a hungree.  Ware iz tuna, mama?

Guy and I leave for Vegas later this week for our 8th anniversary weekend with Scarlett and Baxter and all the bad kittehs at their house.  Gracie will be fine for the duration, I'm sure.  I'm sure Hazel, the angry 15-year-old ball of chorb, will have the worst time of it at home with the Psycho Floof while Mama and Papa are off cavorting.

Monday Visual Inspiration: Faces of Snooze

Hazel in various states of snoozy repose early one weekday morning while I did yoga.  Whoever invented Cat Pose in yoga clearly hadn't watched a kitteh like Hazel rollrollroll around and get comfortable.

MomWatch 2012: The kittehs suspect nuffin

My amazing and hilarious mom is coming to visit this week. She flies in late Tuesday night and back out the next Wednesday midday. I always love having Mom visit, as she's fun, funny, and great company. Further making this visit interesting is that Guy is going to be out of town for two weeks straight, working on his big-ass project back east. I'm sure he's glad to be out of the house while Mom and I goober it up in here.

While I always enjoy having Mom here for the company, I usually have some ulterior motive for buying the plane ticket. usually it's just wanting her to help me with a few plants or to come sew a few garments for me. This time, though, it's construction. Three years ago, Guy built a sound wall in our bedroom to insulate us from the bedroom in the adjacent condo unit. Around that same time, Guy bought me a modular closet unit similar to those found at Container Store (relax, I actually asked for this unit for Christmas). For the past three-plus years, we've had my closet units leaned up against a wall in the hall, and we've stared at unfinished drywall in our bedroom. It's said that the cobbler's children have no shoes. I would add that the architect's house has no paint and shitty shelving.

So, Mom's coming out to help me knock some existing shelves out of the closet and then install the new shelving/rod system and paint the bedroom sound wall and my closet. Some of this she'll have to do when I'm at work, and some of this I'll be able to help her with. (The construction hours for our condo building are 8-4 on weekdays only, so anything involving drill bits and circular saws has to be done while I'm at work.) Further complicating this project is that it just happens to be coinciding with three huge presentations I'm having to make in the middle of the week, so I can't be home to help. Mom and I will have to work out what she can get done while I'm gone and what I can help with.

Meanwhile, the kittehs suspect nuffin. Hazel is curled up on the sofa on a fleece Hello Kitty blanket, and Gracie is scampering around like a goofball. I'm sure in between construction, sewing, and margarita/white wine sessions with Mom, there will be snuggling of kittehs.

Monday Visual Inspiration: You can't medicate me in my safe house

Hazel recently had her teeth cleaned at the vet's office, which means that she had to be knocked out with anesthesia and given an IV. You can't see it because she's got it tucked under her, but there's a shaved spot on her front left leg where they ran the IV. They had to pull a tooth because of a cavity, but overall she did well, and the vet couldn't stop talking about how incredibly cute and sweet she was during the visit.

Hazel decided to hide in her house a little this weekend to avoid being given her antibiotics. She hates the meds being squirted down her throat, but she's gotten to where she doesn't run around the house when it's medication time. She's done with the meds either today or tomorrow, and I'm sure that'll make her happy. It was tough to medicate her as well because of all the hours I've had to work at the start of this month. We had four master plans/conceptual designs due with in a week of each other this month, so it's been pretty unrelenting since the holidays ended. Things should slow down a bit here for the next week or so, but I'm sure we'll get busy again soon. In the meantime, I'll go clean the house and take a nap.

It

Emergency help for a fellow blogger

Syd needs help finding a home for her kittehs in the Southern California (LA County) area! Go to her page here and see if you can help her find homes for good kittehs STAT!

Monday Visual Inspiration: Thankful indeed, but always looking up

From the trip home to Georgia for Thanksgiving:

One of the new kittens is thankful for Lenny. Here, they both sit in my lap while the kitten puts her wee floofy tabby paw on Lenny's big white one.


Mom is thankful for the new kittens, ReeRee and Dot. Here she snorgles Dot (I think) while showing me the beef jerky she bought Guy for his Christmas present from a Pilot store.


Shirley is thankful for her squeaky mousey that she has claimed as hers whenever she comes in the house, which is now everyday. We're all thankful for Shirley, who has made a near-full recovery from getting hit by a car a couple of months ago. (An SUV barreling down the road clipped Shirley straight on the side of her head and knocked her over. El Seebeno saw the accident happen and was able to take the pup straight to the vet, where they gave her some anti-stroke medicine that probably saved her life. The SUV that hit her didn't even slow down.)

I'm thankful for Guy's new project and for the fact that Design Associates has started hiring again and has several new projects in the house and in the pipeline. While I'm glad for what I have (and for what I've been able to hang onto over the past few rough years), I'm also thankful for the confidence to ask for more: a raise, a promotion, a new role on projects. I've asked Sven and Howie about making some of these things happen, and it seems like some good things might be coming my way, but I won't be holding my breath or betting on it until I see it (I don't want to jinx myself).

Being thankful, I'm finding, means that you can appreciate what you have but not be complacent about having better, about receiving new/more blessings that you deserve or have earned. It means to acknowledge and embrace the goodness you have in your life, both materially and spiritually, knowing that in some ways that's enough. But gratitude also means accepting more into your life--being willing to accept good things that come your way, even if sometimes you have to ask for those things. Fingers crossed that everyone else out there has these kinds of blessings coming to them as well.

Going to Yellowstone, brb, kthxbai

Guy and I off to Yellowstone for a week of camping and staying in lodges and hotel rooms in the park, plus a lot of hiking and taking pictures and just enjoying nature and each other and not being able to use our cellphones or the internet. So there. Gracie said she'll hold down the fort and keep my spot warm on the balcony/porch for me til we return. Our pal Elliot will stop in and check on the kittehs a couple of times while we're out, no worries. Back in a week, kids!

Monday Visual Inspiration: Strrrrreeeeeeetch!

Gracie sure knows how to live. Thirteen months after being adopted from the shelter to her forever home, she's lolled on a cushion in the living room in the sun, simultaneously taking a bath, rolling over, and stretching. Or as she calls it, multitasking.

I'm trying to get a bunch of crap done before Guy and I leave for a week in Yellowstone National Park next week. I'd say I'll keep my tens of readers posted, but what the hell would I keep you poor folks updated on? My lack of posting? :-p

Monday Visual Inspiration: Teh Qte and Teh Annoyed

It's been 9 months since Gracie came to live with us, and Hazel could not be more annoyed. Or chagrined. Or put-upon. Just look at this: a couple of weeks ago, both kittehs managed to coexist on the chaise together, but only because there was a pillow between them, which obstructed their views of each other.

Gracie's workin' it for the camera, and Hazel's all, "*sigh* Do you see this camera whore on the chaise with me? Embarrassing."

Oh, but Gracie's not going to stop working it. Not when she knows she has Mama's full atten-shunz. Lulu in the background wants none of this, unless maybe there's some tuna involved.

Oh, oh, OH! I'll see your rolling around on the chaise and raise you a rolling-over-on-top-of-my-head maneuver! I need a belleh skritch NAO!

Hazel, unaffected, snores quietly, just beyond the fray.

Valentine's Day, Shelter Kitteh Style

Many of you may recall the arrival of Gracie in July 2010 here at the Happy Kitten Highrise. In the past eight months, she's decided that she does indeed belong here and has staked her claim on a few pieces on furniture as well as anywhere on Papa's side of the bed. I swear she spends half the day looking for Hazel, and Hazel spends half her day avoiding Gracie. The Floof just wants to play, but she does occasionally for no apparently good reason light Lulu's head up with a flurry of floofy-pawed pitty-pat-pat. However, being only about two years old, we love to bat at and play with strings. Papa gave us a long, elasticized string that we actually tote around the house now and again. Here she is, playing with Papa in the living room.

OMG STRING!!!!

nnrarryhggghnyarrrghhnyaarrrggh!

...let's take this over here where I can attack it better....

..huh? did I hear a treat bag crinkle open...?

What do you mean "you have to go pee?" Get back here and finish playing wif me!

Monday Visual Inspiration: Teh Qte iz strong wif dis wun...

It's been about a month since we brought Gracie home from the shelter, and she's fitting in nicely...mostly.

Oh hai. i'z in ur flor, bein qte.

She was an outdoor kitty before, and while she appreciates the safety and spoilage of indoor life, she constantly watches through the patio screens, waiting for her chance to wander around on the balcony. She'll spend hours out there with me, just sitting on the little outdoor rug, half-chasing a fly, or sniffing the tomatoes.

Diz wun is reddy, mama! Let'z mayk sum pastah snauce!

Hazel, meanwhile, is less than thrilled.

Mama, teyke ur well-pedicured fut and put it up Gracie's butt, plz kthx.

Gracie has become dominant kitteh in some parts of the house--I've actually seen her reach out and swat Lulu-kitteh, who tries to brush it off as no big thing. Gracie gets some of the best seats in the house, but Hazel gets the spot of honor next to my butt on the bed.

Dis mai sleepee-playce..gzzzz.....

The detente extends to eating, though Gracie is always lurking--the vet says that she's not the 2.5 years old that the shelter said, probably more like barely 18 months old at the most and was probably pregnant on her first heat cycle. The vet thinks Gracie "wants" to be bigger. I want her to have a healthy bibbin (tummy) to match her new, spoiled/lazy lifestyle.

I tum bak latr and eet the rest of her fud om nom nom...

Hazel doesn't know what to do sometimes with this hyper little maniac in the house.

Ware she at? Did she go bek to sheltr? I hoap so!

Hazel also gets Spot of Honor next to me on the futon while watching TV. Recently, she burrowed under this blanket after getting into a scrap with Gracie and stayed like this for nearly five minutes.

If I kan't c hr, she kan't c meh!

Just relaxing, kthx

Here's a pic I took of an immaculately-maintained American Gothic/Victorian house in Key West in June 2010. I just like the way the sun was barely reflecting off of the multiple paint colors and the occupiable attic's windows. marvelous.

Just having a quiet weekend with the kittehs, who are both doing well (Hazel managed to get her appetite back, sorta). After swiffing the house and wiping down the bathroom and the kitchen, it's time to slum a bit on the balcony and enjoy my plants and my wee garden, form which I recently got some tomatoes and some green beans.

Screw this, I'm staying home

I called in a mental health day at work today. I'm finally at the point where I'm almost permanently and continually annoyed, so of course I had drinks last night with the always-helpful Vinnie. After I ranted and raved for a few minutes and then sagged in my chair over my riesling, Vinnie asked, "Pixie, it's not time for an afternoon off--it's time for something a full day, an overnight trip alone, a weekend...something where no one is bothering you or asking you to do anything. When's the last time you did that?" Since the answer to Vinnie's question was stunned silence (I couldn't remember the last time I really had some good undisturbed time alone), I played the mental health card and will spend this overcast-ish and somewhat humid Friday alone, doing a few small things but nothing major.

Meanwhile, the vet prescribed an appetite stimulant for Hazel. It works, but only about two or three hours after you give it to her. So, I have to feed Gracie her food with her medicine in it and give Hazel her pill. Then I have to feed Hazel--or try to feed her--the food with her medicine in it a few hours later. Yes, I know, yet one more thing to tend to. But if that's all I have to tend to today, then maybe it's tolerable. Maybe.

Man, if y'all thought I was low on give-a-damn a few weeks ago...

People, I have hit new lows of give-a-damn lately, which is why I haven't posted worth shit. I've been hitting new nadirs of "meh" and fighting waves of irrepressible anger with a side order of cranktastic despondency, and I have super-sized this Unhappy Meal with a 32 oz cup of GTFO and [facepalm]. Needless to say, I don't think anyone out there in the blogosphere particularly wants to hear anything I have to say right now. I don't even want to hear what I have to say right now.

A couple of weeks ago, I was going to get a haircut and then meet a friend for a late lunch afterwards. I had been feeling rather drained lately--I was just barely posting on WAD, I wasn't sleeping well for some reason, and I was actually getting annoyed at having to work 40 hours a week again (I know, I'm being ungrateful). So my friend is all amped up and going on about this and that, and she just gushes, "Oh, I can't wait to see you! I need my Pixie Time!" That one sentence--I need my Pixie Time--absolutely sent me over the edge. While I didn't retaliate in the moment, I was furious. Why does everyone need their goddamn Pixie Time? I thought. Hell, I even I haven't had Pixie Time for the past six-plus months and now everyone else seems to think they can have me?

I commented on this recently on Rev. Kit's blog on this post, and I've been thinking about it some more since I commented there. I realized that, while I do have fun with that particular friend, much of our interactions is me bolstering, supporting, defending, rationalizing, cheering up, and generally giving to this friend...and I'm fucking exhausted. Not exhausted--fucking exhausted. And I'm finding that a lot of people lately want something me--look at my website and give me suggestions, help me get a job at Guy's firm, give me some advice in my time of need, run this or that extra project at work, blah blah blah. And while all of these are important and valid requests that we all make of each other, I'm just...done.

I realize that we allow ourselves to play roles in each others' lives. For some we are the lean-er, and for some we are the lean-ee. Some of our friends are only good-time friends, and some are the friends you call when you feel like complaining and gossiping. (And some are the friends we call for bail money--they are in a class all their own and God bless 'em.) We all tell people how we want to be treated, but what happens when no one is listening? Case in point: At lunch the next day with my I-need-my-Pixie-Time friend, I told her how wrung out I was and that I would be scaling back my obligations and activities for a few months. She reacted like it was a good idea. Later during lunch, we realized that she and I had a friend in common that I saw sometimes on my morning runs. The following Monday, I met this mutual friend on a run and we chatted briefly about how we knew my lunch friend. The next day, my lunch friend emailed me and said that it would be great for us three--the running acquaintance, the lunch friend, and me--to get together for dinner and drinks. I said, sure, that'd be nice sometime. She emailed back that she knew I was trying to cut back, so it was up to me when and how...and then not even half an hour later, she emails the running acquaintance and me, "Hey! We ladies need to get together soon for drinks!!!"

Jesus. God. in heaven. Go read what you just wrote me in that email and then punch yourself, please. Hard. In the face.

I didn't even respond. I deleted both emails and just focused on work. And in the ensuing several days, I've become reflexively annoyed at everything. When the ATM spits my card out and the screen says, "Please take card" I shout back at it "Jesus, do I have to do everything around here?!" Meanwhile, Gracie has given Hazel her cat shelter cold/sneeze, and Hazel won't eat. I mean, I haven't seen her eat anything since Friday afternoon when she had a couple of bites of warmed-up tuna and a few crunchies. The vet said that the cold is making her not be able to smell food, so she's not eating it (cats rely that much on their sense of smell). If she's not eating by Tuesday, then we have to give her appetite-stimulating medicine, and I'm here to tell y'all that I'm fucking sick of medicating cats. I spent 18 months doing that with Maddy, and while I loved and still love my tortie girl, I'm sick of sickness and I'm sick of tending yet one more thing that isn't working or doing quite right.

I'm sure I'll be fine, but I'm just tired momentarily of being really positive and excellent and awesome and on top of everything for a long time. I just want to drink iced lattes and get massages every day for a week. I'm not so much physically tired as psychically tired. And cranky. And then there's the inevitable person who is afraid of a negative mood and wants to tell me to cheer up. Listen--I've been as cheery as I can be for having watched the economy tank for the past year and a half and working as hard as I have just not to get laid off. I think I've earned my cranky mood, so just let me wallow in it for a few days and I'll be fine.

If anyone needs me, I'll be on the balcony, drinking an iced chai and flipping through a Crate & Barrel catalog, which is about all my brain can handle right now.

Interwebs, meet Gracie

We have named the new kitteh Gracie. Well, I named her Gracie. Guy wanted to name her MacGruber, but I said no. (I swear, I don't know what's wrong with that man, but I bet it's hard to pronounce.)

She's only been here since Saturday afternoon, and Gracie's fur is already looking better. She's smoothed down and floofed up, and the white on her paws is looking a little brighter. We're working on giving her a bibbin--we could tell that she wasn't getting a lot to eat at the shelter (too many aggressive kittehs around her, plus she was always nursing). She's decided that she belongs everywhere in the house, and every seat is hers. She already knows the sound of the crinkling treat bag and the swoop of the food container coming off in time for feeding.

And what does Hazel think of this new little interloper?

Meh.

Actually, she's getting more tolerant of Gracie with each passing day. The first time she saw Gracie on Sunday, it was hate at first hiss. But Tuesday night at dinner, Hazel followed her into the kitchen, sniffed her butt, and hissed loudly. I said, "Well, Lulu, you sniffed her ass--what did you expect it to smell like?"

Monday Visual Inspiration: O hai!

O hai. I wuz tolded yu needed a noo kitteh.

Sumwun brot me into the sheltr while i waz havin kittenz. I had 6 and 4 livd, and when thy wr dopted owt, sumwun brot in moar kittnz, and i nursd them to. Nao I just wana liv quietlee and happee.

This luks lyk a gud playce to hang owt. Kan i wach TV with u?

Yayz! Iz comfee to sit heer wif mai floofy tayl and eerz!

Maybee dis me mai furever hoam. kthxnite.

Monday Visual Inspiration: Requiem for a good kitteh

Been a busy couple of weeks, y'all--it's been work and other professional obligations, and not much else. Hence, here are some pictures of my kitteh Maddy.

Back to the yawn

My sister's plane left about an hour ago, bound for Milwaukee and then Atlanta, heralding the end of her Spring Break with me out here in the Mile High Cit-tay. It's always good to see here, even if she's worn out from working or cranky from the gooberishness of her school's leadership. We had a great time shopping, eating, goofing around, watching the Weather Channel, farting on each other, and even visiting a local no-kill cat shelter to pet some needy kittehs and begin to entertain the idea of getting Hazel a new, younger buddy to whoop up on. (This is a ways off though, y'all--just thinking is all I'm doing.) We also came up with a list of completely innocent phrases that can be made gross or at least sound like horrible acts of obscenity which belong on Urban Dictionary, such as "chocolate mermaid" and "toaster strudel".

I was fortunate that I was able to do a great deal of major spring cleaning before she got here, but there's still more to do. Plus, duty calls: the remodeling projects at Gestalt are starting to really cook, and I only have a few more weeks until I have to turn in the final version of a presentation I'm doing at an industry conference later this year. The next couple of weeks are going to be pretty busy, followed by a couple of fairly busy months. I guess I shouldn't complain--busy beats the alternative.

Meanwhile, happy birfday to my Mommy! YAY!!!