My Silly Little Bitch Cat

I think my cat is gay, but I still love him. 

Why do I think he is gay? 

Well one of his favorite places to sleep is in closets, amid my many scarves and tights. I know gays love scarves and tights. We are moving soon so I packed up them all up and now Gunther, my cat, sleeps on top of a flannel shirt in my closet, and I swear he glares at me. Actually right now he is laying on the flannel shirt and he looks so uncomfortable, I am waiting for him to start singing a Katy Perry song just to annoy me.

When Gunther is not sleeping in my closet he is trying to get inside of my clothes, never my pants, t-shirts, or hoodies though. He wants to wear my silky tops, skirts, anything that sparkles, or my cardigans.

Sometimes Gunther is bad and he meows a long loud annoying meow, that could probably wake the dead. I think this is him singing and whining. He also likes to make messes and then not clean up after himself, although I am quite sure this is just a trait most people, and cats, who I hang out with have. When that asshole cat is bad, I spray him with something and he likes it, unless I spray it directly into his face it does not phase him. 

He also loves frozen drinks, actually I am not sure if he loves them but when Phillip and I were drinking and watching musicals on Saturday, Gunther seemed like he want to be a part of it.

I don't wonder why Gunther is gay, I am his third owner and we seem to be a pretty good fit. I think he has abandonment issues.

I call him a silly little bitch cat a lot and sometime I call him G-unit, I think he likes the first name better. It suits him.

However gay my cat is he is still pretty awesome, he loves cuddling and he plays fetch.

For the love of....

Could you stop playing that mother fucking guitar?

I just can't wait to...

be king.

Just kidding. I am never going to be king and I know that, however my name does mean princess.

I was able to buy cigarettes, lottery tickets and other novelties when  turned 18, I was also able to vote and I didn't have to listen to my parents anymore.
I did buy a ticket and lost obviously, my Mom now has me buy her cigarettes, I have been to the Lion's Den several times, I voted for Obama, and I still listen to my parents, but only about as much as I did before I turned 18.

21 brings other rights, drinking mostly. I did that too, but now I could be honest about it and do it in public and post pictures of it online.

Still there are other things I can't do yet and I really can't wait to do them. Most of the things are circumstantial and I really have no idea when I will get to do them but some are closer. I know I will be better at some than I will at others and I know some are selfish, but most aren't most of the things I can't wait to do involve others who I love and can't wait to show them what I can do.

Cats don't like car rides. I don't like the way things seem to be.

Cats generally do not like being in cars, and my cat Gunther is no exception to that rule.

My maternal Grandma (Nanny as I call her) he been in a nursing home since Christmas and she has hopped back and forth from there to the hospital numerous times since. Earlier in the week she was in the hospital and they released her and then one day later she went back. My Mom had been calling me with updates to let me know how things were and each time she called I would ask if I needed to come home.

I really didn't want to come home, because I wanted to hang out with my friends and go to a concert that night, but I still played the dutiful daughter/granddaughter role and asked if I was needed. I am sad and things don't look too good for my Nanny, but things haven't looked good for her before and she has pulled through.

I layed out with Phillip and Paulina yesterday in front of our apartment and read and relaxed and talked about how okay I was or wasn't. Then Phillip and I drove around and listened to The Book of Mormon, very good musical by the way. We also went on a search for ear candles and were a mildly horrified in both places we went into. One we are pretty sure is the headquarters of some secret government agency. It is a huge building with one tiny store in it and when we walked in the woman working asked us our names, as if she was expecting someone. In the other place we went to, first we walked around and tried free samples and then I spent a good 7 minutes smelling soaps and when Phillip finally asked about ear candles the guy who he asked said what they had weren't ear candles according to government standards and then pointed him in the direction of hollow beeswax cylinders. So we left and went to Phillip's apartment for dinner.

After parking at the school for the concert Phillip and I begin to walk towards the crowds. Once we are almost there my Mom calls and says that Nanny is being life flighted to Evansville and if I can come home and stay with my little brother. So we walk back and talk about how I can cry in the car and at least now I don't have to pretend to have a good time.

So I decide to take my cat with me to my parents house so he can play with their 2 cats. He doesn't have a carrier because I never take him anywhere so I just decide to let him roam around. We make it less than a mile from my apartment and he somehow rolls down the back window and I see him trying to make an escape in the side rear-view mirror. I stop in the middle of the road yank his ass back in the car and  put the child locks on and also lock the doors. You can't escape that easily cat!

He meows off and on and curls up in my lap for most of the ride although the steering wheel seemed to annoy him lots.

Once at my parents house he and the other cats hiss at each other and then chase each other around and I go sleep after a long hard day.

My Insomniac World

This world involves the 3 by 3 foot area around me when I sit on a couch of someone's place when I can't sleep. The world is best when it is dark and my computer and phone are the only 2 light sources, also if there are headphones. I forget I am wearing headphones when I wear headphones. This would I am speaking of is the lit up section of the room that I occupy and it is sort of weird, because only when the music stops do I hear the breathing of sleeping people, the house noises and such and when I look away from the screen I can't see and it hurts my eyes and makes me want to go to sleep...if only!

I like this world though, sometimes it involves a book or me doing my laundry at my parents house. It is a nice escape from the other weird worlds but this is the third night of it...and I am fucking ready for my happy place.

Blog about Insomnia

Well hello world! It is 12:38AM and that is relatively early for me actually. I am sitting on a love-seat in a basement listening to my 159 newly downloaded songs on iTunes on shuffle, of course. I am "like a boss." I am listening to "like a boss" like a boss, as well. The Lonely Island makes me happy, laser cats really makes me smile.

Oh and I can't sleep and it sucks dicks. Speaking of sucking dicks, I am in the Northern part of Illinois for Gay Pride (and no I am not a lesbian even though I love cats and haven't had a boyfriend in a while), I just very much enjoy the company of gays, they are a good people most of the time.

Okay and now for the reason I cannot sleep, my best friend A. Robert and I are staying with his family, and they are great and I appreciate it a lot, I just have problems sleeping when I don't get to do my nightly rituals, or in a bed that is not my own or in a bed with another person or when everyone else goes to sleep really early and I have to stay awake and entertain myself.

My nightly rituals usually include me washing my face, brushing my hair and putting my freshly brushed locks into a sexy ponytail, putting myself away in my room having a snack while stumbling the interwebs or watching netflix or reading. After that I usually play some sort of computer game such as spider solitare or a puzzle or Plants vs. Zombies (Which I recently had to delete from my computer, sad face). Then I tell my cat Gunther to get his ass out of my closet, yes he sleeps in there, and to come and cuddle with me. When he obeys my request for cuddling, we cuddle and fall asleep and then when I wake up his face is usually on my face, and I freaking love it. However I should say he more often than not refuses to cuddle until the early morning hours, so I remove him from my closet and he sleeps at the foot of the bed, where I might continuously kick him in the night but he doesn't seem to mind. After the fight for cuddling I take a lovely trip to my happy place and soon after drift off into lovely sleep.

When my friends stay over, my nightly ritual is usually an impossibility, but at least I have my bed.

However, when I sleep somewhere else falling asleep and the nightly ritual are both impossibilities. Even when I was little I would stay at friends houses and I never had to call my parents to come get me, mostly because I hate to inconvenience people, but getting to sleep was always hard. I remember my friend Gerica and I watched Pet Cemetery 2 and it was all I could do to even close my eyes that night, because immediately after we watched it she wanted to go to bed, even now I can't watch a scary movie and go straight to sleep, I must watch something funny and happy to take me back to my usual level of feeling safe and optimism.

I love trips and going places but in my ideal world I would get to sleep in my own bed, preferably alone, every night. Now as most people who know me well or semi well know, I do not have a boyfriend and if I did I would probably like sleeping in a bed with him, unless he snored a lot or something and I would still want to sleep in my own bed a lot. I am fine sleeping in a bed with my friends and such. It isn't them actually being there that bothers me. The thing that bothers me is me, I get up a lot to pee, diabetic thing, and usually whomever is in bed with me falls asleep first and I have a fear of waking them up or them telling me to stop moving so much because for some reason I have a problem getting comfortable enough to go to sleep.

I don't even take up much room while sleeping, I just like having a whole bed to myself. When I was little I slept in the same bed with my little brother because he was always scared and I was cold. The last time I slept in his bed was after I saw The Grudge and I was horrified. He was already asleep and boy does that boy take up a whole bed! I wedged myself between his flailed out arm and leg and covered myself with a corner and slept against my warm younger brother soundly. In the morning he woke me up by saying "What the fuck are you doing in my bed?" I told him I saw a scary movie and then got up and went into my own bedroom and slept more soundly because it was light outside by that time. Obviously he outgrew his fear of sleeping alone.

Wow! It has been a whole hour since I started this blog, I have moved from iTunes to YouTube and I looked at some friends blogs and did this....

I love my bed. If you have ever watched the movie Smiley Face, picture that scene where Anna Ferris is rolling around in her bed giggling. I fucking love my bed, it is comfy and awesome and wonderful and I want to be in it right now with my cat and pizza hut pizza and cheesesticks, but I can't have any of that.  I once wrote a whole poem about it...

Bed

My dearest and closest relationship.

Your companionship is second only to my cats.

But unlike the cats you never judge me or

run away from me when I am just trying to snuggle.

You are always there for me.

When I am drunk

you cushion my hangover.

When I am so exhausted I think I could pass out on the cold tile floor

you make me so happy I did not pass out on the cold tile floor.

I look forward to sinking past the day and into the covers of you, my bed.

All the pillows and blankets spilling over me, it is so awesome and warm.

However some mornings in the winter I am pissed I have to leave you.

so warm and soft and non judgmental.

Bed glorious bed.

The covers cradle and caress.

The mattress is just right as Goldilocks would say. 

The sheets are cool to the touch but warm as I lay down.

The plush pillows play me sweet melodies to fall asleep to.

Always there and waiting.

Sometimes unmade, most of the time

unmade.

Even when made you still look inviting.

It's nice knowing I have someone waiting for me when I get home.

No matter what,

whether I wish to cry into my pillows

or beat them like punching bags

or simply use one to makes sure that my legs are not touching.

Simple and so relaxing.

I think I'll take a nap.

That was it, that was the poem, I love naps too. Not cat naps though, I like a nap to be a nice 2 hour affair.

I love to stay up late and sleep late and I hate being the last one awake because then I feel weird. I am weird though and that is okay. I think I am done with this blog.

Things...

have to get better, let me tell you why.

The best cat I have ever owned is missing. She has been gone for at least 2 weeks.

I may not get to go to school this year because financial aid sucks and my parents can't afford it without financial aid.

Then there is the perpetual singleness that eats away at my life force. (That sentence was a bit dramatic, but fuck it.)

I feel like I can't actually talk to anyone. I feel like no one cares, even though I know they do.

I know I am looking for something specific, I am looking for someone to say something, or for the right opportunity.

But the way things are going I don't even know if I would see the opportunity or hear the words really.

My debit card has also been destroyed and I am broke. Nothing makes me happy except for watching Dexter, and that is just fucked up because I have already watched most episodes and he kills people.

Life is hard, television is easy, Netflix is my happy place.

Mostly, I am worried about my cat. She is orange and soft and she hates bathing herself and she hates my Mom's other cats and she is perfect in every way and I miss her and I hope she comes back.

The last time an animal of mine was missing it was my puppy Boots. Boots got parvo and my little brother's friend found her in the field across from our house dead. they told me and I started crying and ran to the bathroom, locked myself in and sobbed for at least 45 minutes.

If my precious baby Pumpkin cat is missing I hope she has internet access and my blog saved to her favorites, I hope she reads this and come home. I need to cuddle her gnarly-self.

Things have to get better.