Are capable of tracking so much litter around. Seriously guys, that's gross.
I am back in Ann Arbor, kind of permanently, I suppose, although I will be heading off to Canada to visit folks this weekend.
Because it is my permamove, I brought the kittens (whom I am trying to refer to in my head as the LoL cats) with me. I also had to work today at 10, which means I had to be on the road by seven.
The two hour drive from Midland to Ann Arbor was quite possibly the most stressful I have ever driven, because I had two upset kittens yelling at me in stereo. Mostly the kittens communicate in meowy squeaks and chirps, but they really let their grown-up voices out (think Larry-style). Then once we arrived and I brought them to the apartment they yelled at me some more because they didn't get let out right away.
Of course then I had to go to work so I quickly put J’s guitar in his room, put the potted plant in my room, closed those doors and hoped that the cats wouldn’t get into too much mischief. I was at work for about 5 hours, and it doesn’t look like anything was destroyed. There were a few lumps in the litter box (yay!) so I put its lid on (I got them a Clevercat Top Entry box—it’s really the only one that will fit in our bathroom and still have a lid). Loki has already used it with the lid but Lola deigned not to, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she will adapt fine. My life has become one in which I worry a lot about cat poop. Sigh.
The kittens seem to be doing okay. I opened my room and Lola is exploring (Loki, the weirdo, is cuddled up next to my feet suckling himself. Sigh). In a few moments I’ll lock them both up in there so I can unload the stuff from my car and finally get unpacked/settled in. Orientation tomorrow!
ETA: Lola has pretty much wrapped J around her little paw.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
No Wrong Way to [Look Like, Act Like, Feel Like] Be a Girl
The title of my post basically sums up my attitude towards womanhood/girlhood in general. While there are things that are traditionally perceived as "feminine" and "girly" not all women act/look that way. I am a 5'11" big person with horrible skin that I don't put makeup on, hair that is rarely down because I honestly don't know how to blow dry it, and my daily uniform is basically pants (capris in summer) and a solid colored shirt (no ornamentation, no patterns). I like power tools and love comic books. These are not necessarily traditionally "feminine" traits but because I feel myself to be a woman, I am one and I don't think less of me--or anyone else who exhibits non-"feminine" traits because of it. Nor do I think that women who are traditionally "girly" are somehow bad either. Like I said, there is no wrong way to be a girl.
This is...not the post I had planned. But it is helpful in getting my thoughts straightened out re: gender norms, expression of gender, etc. I fully believe that there is no wrong way to be a girl (someone get me that on a t-shirt) but need some work on unpacking what exactly I mean by that.
Basically what I wanted to say is this: today I bought a dress. It's navy and knit and ends just above my knee, and I liked it enough on the rack to try it on and liked it enough on me to actually purchase it.
This is a very rare occurrence for me. The last dress I bought was in May for graduation. It's black, and I later wore it to my grandfather's funeral. Before that I can't even remember the last dress I bought, much less the last time I wore one.
While I was trying on the dress in the cubical at Kohl's I started thinking as to why I didn't own more skirts and dresses, especially to wear in the summer. I love wearing skirts in the summer, they are so light and cool! Add a pair of biking shorts underneath to prevent chub rub and I'm good to go! So why have I been purchasing capris this year instead of skirts?
The answer might lie in the second piece of clothing I purchased at Kohl's and no, I am not referring to the pair of sleep shorts I got on clearance. I bought shapewear. I noticed a few of my lumps being lumpy in the dress and instead of loving my body as it is (which is something I strive to do every day) I decided to modify it in a modern relative of the corset.
I am super disappointed in myself, and yet I don't think I am going to return it. Which signals to me that I have some issues with my body (well, MORE) that I need to work out.
I have gained a lot of weight in the last three years, mostly due to a combination of a) stress b) depression c) overeating due to stress and depression and d) lack of energy/exercise due to stress and depression. I see myself in the mirror every day, I know these things.
My mother has also recently gained weight. Her way to cope with it is occasionally (read: frequently) make remarks like "I need to lose weight," "I look horrible," "I'm so fat," etc. She looks to me to make some sort of comment but I refuse to enable her in any way so I usually just ignore it. She is not fat.
I decided a while ago that I could spend every day not liking my body, my lumps and curves, my weight, etc and be miserable and in a constant battle with it, OR I could focus my mental attention on LIKING and ACCEPTING myself, which includes my body, and enjoying my life, which includes cake. Yes I am aware that I could benefit from exercise--who wouldn't?--but I refuse to dislike my body because that omnipresent society says I should. However, the fact that not only did I decide I needed shapewear but the fact I bought it tells me that I have some ways to go before I get that whole "love my body because there is nothing wrong with it (no wrong way to look like a girl)" down.
I don't think that came out any clearer than my "girly" bit. Sigh. Well all writing is just waiting to be revised. Maybe one day I'll get my Ala Manifesto down right.
Basically, as I've been thinking a lot about lifestyle goals this past week I think I found a new one:
Now I just have to figure out what I need to do to achieve that goal...
This is...not the post I had planned. But it is helpful in getting my thoughts straightened out re: gender norms, expression of gender, etc. I fully believe that there is no wrong way to be a girl (someone get me that on a t-shirt) but need some work on unpacking what exactly I mean by that.
Basically what I wanted to say is this: today I bought a dress. It's navy and knit and ends just above my knee, and I liked it enough on the rack to try it on and liked it enough on me to actually purchase it.
This is a very rare occurrence for me. The last dress I bought was in May for graduation. It's black, and I later wore it to my grandfather's funeral. Before that I can't even remember the last dress I bought, much less the last time I wore one.
While I was trying on the dress in the cubical at Kohl's I started thinking as to why I didn't own more skirts and dresses, especially to wear in the summer. I love wearing skirts in the summer, they are so light and cool! Add a pair of biking shorts underneath to prevent chub rub and I'm good to go! So why have I been purchasing capris this year instead of skirts?
The answer might lie in the second piece of clothing I purchased at Kohl's and no, I am not referring to the pair of sleep shorts I got on clearance. I bought shapewear. I noticed a few of my lumps being lumpy in the dress and instead of loving my body as it is (which is something I strive to do every day) I decided to modify it in a modern relative of the corset.
I am super disappointed in myself, and yet I don't think I am going to return it. Which signals to me that I have some issues with my body (well, MORE) that I need to work out.
I have gained a lot of weight in the last three years, mostly due to a combination of a) stress b) depression c) overeating due to stress and depression and d) lack of energy/exercise due to stress and depression. I see myself in the mirror every day, I know these things.
My mother has also recently gained weight. Her way to cope with it is occasionally (read: frequently) make remarks like "I need to lose weight," "I look horrible," "I'm so fat," etc. She looks to me to make some sort of comment but I refuse to enable her in any way so I usually just ignore it. She is not fat.
I decided a while ago that I could spend every day not liking my body, my lumps and curves, my weight, etc and be miserable and in a constant battle with it, OR I could focus my mental attention on LIKING and ACCEPTING myself, which includes my body, and enjoying my life, which includes cake. Yes I am aware that I could benefit from exercise--who wouldn't?--but I refuse to dislike my body because that omnipresent society says I should. However, the fact that not only did I decide I needed shapewear but the fact I bought it tells me that I have some ways to go before I get that whole "love my body because there is nothing wrong with it (no wrong way to look like a girl)" down.
I don't think that came out any clearer than my "girly" bit. Sigh. Well all writing is just waiting to be revised. Maybe one day I'll get my Ala Manifesto down right.
Basically, as I've been thinking a lot about lifestyle goals this past week I think I found a new one:
- I want to be confident enough to wear dresses and skirts without resorting to shapewear.
Now I just have to figure out what I need to do to achieve that goal...
Friday, August 26, 2011
I am a horrible mother
I am back in Midland, returning the dadmobile and getting some more things, most importantly, the cats, Loki and Lola.
At present I am in the basement on a supremely uncomfortable loveseat supervising the kittens play with one of Larry's discarded mousies that Loki fetched from under the lazyboy. Larry is also down here, hissing and growling at any kitten who gets too close.
I just cleaned out their litter box. Since they've been snatching mouthfuls of Larry's wet food and his adult dry food, their poop has been less than solid. Nasty nasty. And there are poopy pawprints on the sheet I put on the bed to protect it.
I feel like such a failure.
Maybe some more backstory?
Cats make me happy. My favorite creature in perhaps the entire world is my cat Larry, who we adopted when I was 12 and he was 1. To say that he literally saved my life would not be an exaggeration. He is a mouthy, extremely affectionate cat whom I (and lots of other people) love deeply.
However, Larry (being almost 14) can not exactly give up three floors of rich carpeting and expensive food and many sunbeams to go live in my small graduate school apartment. And frankly the thought of him getting lost is enough to trigger an anxiety attack, even as I write this.
But cats make me happy, and since I am heading off to the stressful world of grad school I decided I want to take a cat with me. The first question I asked my potential roommate was "do you like cats?"
I fell in love with Loki via his picture on petfinder.com, but when I went to meet him I was not only presented with him but also three other cats. He was the lovable cat I thought him to be, but he basically ignored me after the first introduction in favor of playing with his sister. This other cat, a tortie, came up and let me love her and was super affectionate. When it came time to choose, I had bonded better with her, but what about the Loki I fell in love with?
So I asked my roommate and signed the papers for two. That tortie was Lola
A day or so later I asked my dad if he thought I had made a good decision. He said they were very nice cats and that I had picked well but why on earth did I get two? Considering that he had been with me when I picked them out and I had asked his opinion then I found it strange that he hadn't said anything before. His response? He will support me in anything I do, even if he thinks it's stupid. Maybe he sowed seeds of doubt? I don't know.
Then Loki and Lola came home and I set up a super sweet kitty suite in my parent's bathroom/bedroom (hey they were on vacation) and they were adorable and kittenish and then I noticed that after fie or so minutes of heavy play Lola would pant. Now as a rule cats don't pant unless of situations of emergency so I contacted the person (a vet tech) that I adopted her from and told her and the response was "well she's never done that for me and the vet I worked for checked her out several times and found nothing so it's probably nothing."
I took her to my vet anyway, and the diagnosis-ish I got was that Lola most likely has a heart problem (not a murmur) and she will be fine until, of course, she's not.
My dad suggested that I call the adoption place and maybe take her back. But cats are kind of like children, in that you don't adopt a child and take it back because it seems to have a health problem. It's a commitment.
Since coming back from vacation and meeting the kittens, my mum has declared Loki to be a pretty good cat and has mentioned several times that Lola is a bad cat who gets into mischief. Which she does. I'm told that torties as a color type tend to be extremely sassy. She's also asked me several times "why did you get two?". Today Lola scratched her when my mum tried to pick her up (most likely she scooped around the waist, which Lola dislikes). So Lola is on her shit list and the kittens were banished to their basement room for most of the evening.
So here I am, full of doubts. Why did I get two cats? Larry hates them both, and I'm afraid this is causing him undue stress. One kitten is sassy and not completely healthy. Both are a bit stressed after spending so long cooped up away from humans. I'm hoping things improve once they have run of an apartment and are away from Larry and with people more often. But what if they don't?
I don't know. Maybe I'm making too much out of this because I'm stressed and a bit depressed from the move/grad school. Time will tell.
In other news, my job is mind numbingly boring, I assembled a dresser today, and I am allergic to Ann Arbor.
At present I am in the basement on a supremely uncomfortable loveseat supervising the kittens play with one of Larry's discarded mousies that Loki fetched from under the lazyboy. Larry is also down here, hissing and growling at any kitten who gets too close.
I just cleaned out their litter box. Since they've been snatching mouthfuls of Larry's wet food and his adult dry food, their poop has been less than solid. Nasty nasty. And there are poopy pawprints on the sheet I put on the bed to protect it.
I feel like such a failure.
Maybe some more backstory?
Cats make me happy. My favorite creature in perhaps the entire world is my cat Larry, who we adopted when I was 12 and he was 1. To say that he literally saved my life would not be an exaggeration. He is a mouthy, extremely affectionate cat whom I (and lots of other people) love deeply.
However, Larry (being almost 14) can not exactly give up three floors of rich carpeting and expensive food and many sunbeams to go live in my small graduate school apartment. And frankly the thought of him getting lost is enough to trigger an anxiety attack, even as I write this.
But cats make me happy, and since I am heading off to the stressful world of grad school I decided I want to take a cat with me. The first question I asked my potential roommate was "do you like cats?"
I fell in love with Loki via his picture on petfinder.com, but when I went to meet him I was not only presented with him but also three other cats. He was the lovable cat I thought him to be, but he basically ignored me after the first introduction in favor of playing with his sister. This other cat, a tortie, came up and let me love her and was super affectionate. When it came time to choose, I had bonded better with her, but what about the Loki I fell in love with?
So I asked my roommate and signed the papers for two. That tortie was Lola
A day or so later I asked my dad if he thought I had made a good decision. He said they were very nice cats and that I had picked well but why on earth did I get two? Considering that he had been with me when I picked them out and I had asked his opinion then I found it strange that he hadn't said anything before. His response? He will support me in anything I do, even if he thinks it's stupid. Maybe he sowed seeds of doubt? I don't know.
Then Loki and Lola came home and I set up a super sweet kitty suite in my parent's bathroom/bedroom (hey they were on vacation) and they were adorable and kittenish and then I noticed that after fie or so minutes of heavy play Lola would pant. Now as a rule cats don't pant unless of situations of emergency so I contacted the person (a vet tech) that I adopted her from and told her and the response was "well she's never done that for me and the vet I worked for checked her out several times and found nothing so it's probably nothing."
I took her to my vet anyway, and the diagnosis-ish I got was that Lola most likely has a heart problem (not a murmur) and she will be fine until, of course, she's not.
My dad suggested that I call the adoption place and maybe take her back. But cats are kind of like children, in that you don't adopt a child and take it back because it seems to have a health problem. It's a commitment.
Since coming back from vacation and meeting the kittens, my mum has declared Loki to be a pretty good cat and has mentioned several times that Lola is a bad cat who gets into mischief. Which she does. I'm told that torties as a color type tend to be extremely sassy. She's also asked me several times "why did you get two?". Today Lola scratched her when my mum tried to pick her up (most likely she scooped around the waist, which Lola dislikes). So Lola is on her shit list and the kittens were banished to their basement room for most of the evening.
So here I am, full of doubts. Why did I get two cats? Larry hates them both, and I'm afraid this is causing him undue stress. One kitten is sassy and not completely healthy. Both are a bit stressed after spending so long cooped up away from humans. I'm hoping things improve once they have run of an apartment and are away from Larry and with people more often. But what if they don't?
I don't know. Maybe I'm making too much out of this because I'm stressed and a bit depressed from the move/grad school. Time will tell.
In other news, my job is mind numbingly boring, I assembled a dresser today, and I am allergic to Ann Arbor.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Ala Assemble!
So now I've been in my apartment for several days and things are Slowly Coming Together. Yesterday my roommate and I went on a Grand Adventure to that most magnificent of stores, IKEA. Since my dad gave me one of the lazy-boy chairs from the living room (with permission from my mum, of course) I no longer had a need to get one of the comfy POÄNG chairs but J wanted a dresser and a bookshelf and since I have the van (and love IKEA) off we went.
J ended up with two bookshelves and a dresser (no bed frame) and I did get a coffee table ($20! And looks classy!) and a lamp. I'm at the point in my life where even though I will be moving in two years or so I am looking for items that are quality and will last (aka "grown up"), not just cheap and disposable. One day I will have a place all to my self (and the cats) and I will need nothing to furnish it. Alas that day is not today and so most of my stuff is in storage in my parents' basement. Sigh.
Of course, the evil underbelly of IKEA is that once you fall in love with the item in the showroom, what you actually end up purchasing is a long box that weighs about 70 pounds. And once said box is lugged up the three flights of stairs it needs to be assembled.
Now I have very few skills/talents, but one of them seems to be "reading directions well enough to assemble flat-pack furniture." I've assembled quite a bit in the last three years, and yesterday I assembled a microwave stand for the kitchen. Today I have assembled, by myself (I refuse to call it "building"):
I drove to Ypsilanti to get the cabinet at the Walmart there, only to discover that their website lied and it wasn't in stock. On the way back to Ann Arbor I stopped by Meijer...and lo and behold there it was, and for $15 cheaper to boot! Another case of the kingdom beating the Evil Empire! Yeah this is my life now, I get excited over getting kitchen cabinets. I'm just very particular about my living space.
Now I am exhausted and I smell, and I have yet to actually unpack most of my stuff. Tomorrow I will most likely assemble J's dresser while he is at work, because I am awesome, and then back to Midland to spend time with families and kitties before kittens make the car ride back to Ann Arbor with me and I start orientation next week!
J ended up with two bookshelves and a dresser (no bed frame) and I did get a coffee table ($20! And looks classy!) and a lamp. I'm at the point in my life where even though I will be moving in two years or so I am looking for items that are quality and will last (aka "grown up"), not just cheap and disposable. One day I will have a place all to my self (and the cats) and I will need nothing to furnish it. Alas that day is not today and so most of my stuff is in storage in my parents' basement. Sigh.
Of course, the evil underbelly of IKEA is that once you fall in love with the item in the showroom, what you actually end up purchasing is a long box that weighs about 70 pounds. And once said box is lugged up the three flights of stairs it needs to be assembled.
Now I have very few skills/talents, but one of them seems to be "reading directions well enough to assemble flat-pack furniture." I've assembled quite a bit in the last three years, and yesterday I assembled a microwave stand for the kitchen. Today I have assembled, by myself (I refuse to call it "building"):
- the lamp
- the coffee table
- a shower organizer thing (so my various bottles stop falling into the tub)
- a cabinet for the kitchen (a place lacking in shelf/cupboard space)
- one of my roomie's bookcases
I drove to Ypsilanti to get the cabinet at the Walmart there, only to discover that their website lied and it wasn't in stock. On the way back to Ann Arbor I stopped by Meijer...and lo and behold there it was, and for $15 cheaper to boot! Another case of the kingdom beating the Evil Empire! Yeah this is my life now, I get excited over getting kitchen cabinets. I'm just very particular about my living space.
Now I am exhausted and I smell, and I have yet to actually unpack most of my stuff. Tomorrow I will most likely assemble J's dresser while he is at work, because I am awesome, and then back to Midland to spend time with families and kitties before kittens make the car ride back to Ann Arbor with me and I start orientation next week!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Is this thing on?
The other day I got an e-mail from my dear friend Lisa telling me that she had started a blog. She in turn had been inspired by our friend Danika, who has been blogging for about a year now. I decided that if all the cool kids are doing it, I might as well give it a try. It might help me keep sane as I embark on my graduate school career.
Last night I spent the first night in my new apartment. With the help of my dad I had moved most of the furniture in over the weekend, but since I start work today (student labor at the library--I am strangely excited) I arrived late last night with a bunch of stuff. I realized at 11pm that the only food I had was two jars of peanut butter, salt and pepper grinders, and a couple of granola bars that had been packed in with my sandwich bags. So I quickly looked up where the nearest [open] grocer was and headed off to Kroger.
I am not living alone this grad year. I have a roommate, who happens to be male. I will also be living with two(!) cats come this weekend. Like with all roommates, there will be a period of adjustment. For example, when I came home from Kroger last night I put my groceries in the fridge. It was then that I realized that the majority of my groceries were either bread (four kinds!) or bread related (ie things one puts on bread). Most of it was store brand. I placed these in the fridge next to my roommate's organic cage-free eggs and organic milk in a glass bottle. He, as you might have guessed, cares a lot about health and the environment. Me? I care about those things too, but one has to realize that feeding myself on a regular basis is a great accomplishment. Feeding myself healthily? That might take more work (it should be noted that in my bread-buying extravaganza I completely forgot to buy fruit or veggies. I was too impressed with the bakery located next to the produce). There is also the question of cost. I am a grad school. I have a budget. I regularly blow this budget on buying books, but that's not the point. Why should I buy organic eggs at $4 a dozen when the store brand costs $1.69? Scared as I am of people judging me, I am afraid that my roomie will think I am a horrible person for not going all-organic, all the time.
Anyway, after flipping through a book at Danika's, I purchased the same "healthy college cookbook" as her. My goal is to prepare a meal/dish at least twice a week. Woman cannot live on fried eggs and sandwiches alone, although I would try.
Another adjustment to be made: sharing a bathroom with a guy. And it's a very small bathroom with almost no storage or counter space. Since J has been living in the apartment since the weekend he's moved all his stuff in. Toothpaste, toothbrush, cotton swabs, and a single bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap in the bathtub. I felt so awkward putting my bright green shampoo and conditioner bottles in the shower, along with my body wash, loofah, razor, shave cream, and face wash, not to mention my various creams and stuff near the sink. I purchased a plastic basket to sit on the toilet tank and hopefully contain my mess, but I'm a bit nervous about when shark week comes...
Other than that I think the apartment/roomie situation will turn out alright. If anything, I refuse to move until I have a job elsewhere. I hate moving. HATE IT. Too much moving. I'll post more about the apartment (maybe even pictures!) later after I'm done settling in. This might take awhile, as I nest/decorate/organize hard.
Ta!
Last night I spent the first night in my new apartment. With the help of my dad I had moved most of the furniture in over the weekend, but since I start work today (student labor at the library--I am strangely excited) I arrived late last night with a bunch of stuff. I realized at 11pm that the only food I had was two jars of peanut butter, salt and pepper grinders, and a couple of granola bars that had been packed in with my sandwich bags. So I quickly looked up where the nearest [open] grocer was and headed off to Kroger.
I am not living alone this grad year. I have a roommate, who happens to be male. I will also be living with two(!) cats come this weekend. Like with all roommates, there will be a period of adjustment. For example, when I came home from Kroger last night I put my groceries in the fridge. It was then that I realized that the majority of my groceries were either bread (four kinds!) or bread related (ie things one puts on bread). Most of it was store brand. I placed these in the fridge next to my roommate's organic cage-free eggs and organic milk in a glass bottle. He, as you might have guessed, cares a lot about health and the environment. Me? I care about those things too, but one has to realize that feeding myself on a regular basis is a great accomplishment. Feeding myself healthily? That might take more work (it should be noted that in my bread-buying extravaganza I completely forgot to buy fruit or veggies. I was too impressed with the bakery located next to the produce). There is also the question of cost. I am a grad school. I have a budget. I regularly blow this budget on buying books, but that's not the point. Why should I buy organic eggs at $4 a dozen when the store brand costs $1.69? Scared as I am of people judging me, I am afraid that my roomie will think I am a horrible person for not going all-organic, all the time.
Anyway, after flipping through a book at Danika's, I purchased the same "healthy college cookbook" as her. My goal is to prepare a meal/dish at least twice a week. Woman cannot live on fried eggs and sandwiches alone, although I would try.
Another adjustment to be made: sharing a bathroom with a guy. And it's a very small bathroom with almost no storage or counter space. Since J has been living in the apartment since the weekend he's moved all his stuff in. Toothpaste, toothbrush, cotton swabs, and a single bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap in the bathtub. I felt so awkward putting my bright green shampoo and conditioner bottles in the shower, along with my body wash, loofah, razor, shave cream, and face wash, not to mention my various creams and stuff near the sink. I purchased a plastic basket to sit on the toilet tank and hopefully contain my mess, but I'm a bit nervous about when shark week comes...
Other than that I think the apartment/roomie situation will turn out alright. If anything, I refuse to move until I have a job elsewhere. I hate moving. HATE IT. Too much moving. I'll post more about the apartment (maybe even pictures!) later after I'm done settling in. This might take awhile, as I nest/decorate/organize hard.
Ta!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Hello world!
Welcome to WordPress.com. After you read this, you should delete and write your own post, with a new title above. Or hit Add New on the left (of the admin dashboard) to start a fresh post.
Here are some suggestions for your first post.
Here are some suggestions for your first post.
- You can find new ideas for what to blog about by reading the Daily Post.
- Add PressThis to your browser. It creates a new blog post for you about any interesting page you read on the web.
- Make some changes to this page, and then hit preview on the right. You can always preview any post or edit it before you share it to the world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)