I do not have, nor do I want, a cell phone. I'm not sure how many people have had to experience this, but when you tell someone that you don't have a cell phone, they look at you like you like your closest relative has died.
"I'm so sorry... I had no idea. You looked so happy."
"You don't have a cell phone? What, do you hate technology? Do you have a computer?"
"No cell? Where are you from?"
I used to be one of those people that had a cell phone pressed up against their ear non-stop. I never answered my cell phone during a movie or a play, but that's only because I actually wanted to watch the show.
While we were in Texas, and the first month of living here, we had cell phones. The reception in the area is awful and we had the worst provider possible as far as customer service goes. Against our better judgment, we signed a 2 year contract with Sprint on the condition that we could cancel our plan, at any time, with no cancellation fee since My Husband is in the military.
Sprint screwed us. Hard. We ended up fighting for months to get the cancellation fees waived, and finally settled on having them cut in half. They did not want to do it, but a previous rep had left a note (thankfully.... most of them promised the world but didn't leave any notes) saying that they could waive the cancellation fee on one line. $500 and a lot of emotional trauma later, I vowed that we would not have cell phones until we could find a good plan that worked for us.
We stopped looking about 7 months ago.
At one point, we got "emergency" pre paid Virgin mobile phones. I love Virgin Enterprises and have always had great luck with them. All we had to do was buy minutes and load them onto the phone. Easy peasy. I can only think of one time that I actually used that phone. I was shocked that I even had it with me, and was even more surprised that it had a charge.
We eventually forgot about the phones and never put any more minutes on them. The minutes expired, along with our phone numbers.
There are times when I really wish that I could call My Husband and see if he picked something up, or just remind him that I love him... but I wouldn't trade our newfound freedom for anything.
When you have a cell phone, people want to get ahold of you 24 hours a day. Even if you turn your phone off, there's a pile of text messages waiting for you when you turn it back on. What part of that sounds appealing?
People are always loudly wondering how we ever lived without cell phones. Quietly! We didn't have to raise our voices in a restaurant just to be heard over someone screaming about their infected toenails. Before everyone had a cell phone, I never heard someone talk about 'that time they got crabs' in line at the DMV. Sermons were not interrupted by these annoying personalized ringtones.
Sure, they have their perks. You can call AAA if you car dies on the freeway. You can call and get directions while en route. Show times are just a few buttons away. You can get updates on everything sent straight to your phone so you are always ahead of the curve.
To me, the convenience is not worth the hassle. Be happy that I'm not answering your call, because I might be in the bathroom or 'in the middle of something'. So, the next time you try to call me and I don't answer, leave me a message and I will get back to you eventually.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Hmm...
It looks like I'm really going to keep doing this blog thing, so I need to find a direction.
I can do unstructured posts like I have been, or I could try and focus on one area. I figure I'll let you guys, all 3 of you, tell me what you want. Do you want updates on the skills, my opinions/reviews, or just a general life update. If you have any other great ideas I'm open to suggestion, so just let me know what you want to see.
Pretty soon I want to start a weekly "crafting corner" (with a better name of course) and do tutorials (Hey You, I haven't forgotten about the bow making... I just haven't resized the pics yet.)
Hopefully after the trip I'll do a blog overhaul, but it might take a bit longer.
YAY!
I can do unstructured posts like I have been, or I could try and focus on one area. I figure I'll let you guys, all 3 of you, tell me what you want. Do you want updates on the skills, my opinions/reviews, or just a general life update. If you have any other great ideas I'm open to suggestion, so just let me know what you want to see.
Pretty soon I want to start a weekly "crafting corner" (with a better name of course) and do tutorials (Hey You, I haven't forgotten about the bow making... I just haven't resized the pics yet.)
Hopefully after the trip I'll do a blog overhaul, but it might take a bit longer.
YAY!
Vacation?
Wednesday we will get on a plane and go home, together, for the first time since My Husband got out of Basic Training. I was able to go home a little over a year ago, but he has not been back for two years.
This trip is mostly to visit my dying Mammaw, but it turns out my Aunt is having surgery just before we arrive. She fought with breast cancer a few years ago (she even wrote a book. Find out more here.) and thought she was doing well, but it looks like it is back in full force. It has spread, and they are going to try and remove as much of it as possible... There is a small chance that she will not make it through the surgery.
This means that we will be adding some hospital visits to our agenda, leaving even less time to try and cater to My Husband's family.
During this time we will have to adjust to a different time zone and switch from being night people to having a daytime schedule. Immediately upon return, My Husband starts working overnight. I will have one day to re-adjust to normal life before plunging back into my 11 hour workdays. We are going to have a lot of fun, and we are going to wish that we could stay forever... but this is going to be really hard on us.
Meanwhile, no news from the doctor yet. They are checking my hormone levels to see if they can figure out what's going on.
I've started knitting an afghan for the living room. It is going to be huge and just might function as our new home if we are not able to get our finances together in time. I mean, financially we are doing just fine, but we need to come up with a large (for us) amount of cash in a really short amount of time. This is the part that's killing us.
We have worked really hard to achieve a certain comfort zone and, as it turns out, we do not want to stick to a strict budget (even short term) that requires us giving up the things we have become accustomed to.
Now, I'm not talking about lobster dinners every night, or even spending a lot of money on entertainment... I just want to be able to buy some shoes or a handbag without worrying when payday is.
During our first year of marriage, I became an expert at "Poor People Math". If you are not familiar with the term, PPM usually involves calculating exactly when a purchase will hit your bank account, how close it is to payday, and the likelihood of that purchase putting your account in the negative. Often you are trying to figure out how many meals you will have to skip if you rent a movie, or how many pennies you think you can find between now and the end of bank hours.
We considered ourselves very lucky if we had 17 cents in our bank account at the end of the week, and every indulgence required a corresponding sacrifice. I ate once each day, usually around 2 am, and it was carefully chosen from the dollar menu or the "Manager's Special" space at the grocery store where I worked. I remember one week I was going to buy a head of lettuce and my debit card was declined. How embarrassing is that? I had to have one of my cashiers ring me up, and then my debit card was declined... Fortunately, I found 54 cents on the floor so we were able to have a ranch salad topped with Parmesan cheese packets.
Admittedly, that was one of the low points.
This year we have, financially, been better off than I ever could have imagined. I usually don't have to worry about the bank account unless I overspend while grocery/clothes/entertainment shopping or if we make a major purchase.
We really enjoy having less stress, and we are finally getting out of debt. I'm really not sure whether I want to give all of that up for a house... especially for one so small... and expensive...
Decisions, decisions...
This trip is mostly to visit my dying Mammaw, but it turns out my Aunt is having surgery just before we arrive. She fought with breast cancer a few years ago (she even wrote a book. Find out more here.) and thought she was doing well, but it looks like it is back in full force. It has spread, and they are going to try and remove as much of it as possible... There is a small chance that she will not make it through the surgery.
This means that we will be adding some hospital visits to our agenda, leaving even less time to try and cater to My Husband's family.
During this time we will have to adjust to a different time zone and switch from being night people to having a daytime schedule. Immediately upon return, My Husband starts working overnight. I will have one day to re-adjust to normal life before plunging back into my 11 hour workdays. We are going to have a lot of fun, and we are going to wish that we could stay forever... but this is going to be really hard on us.
Meanwhile, no news from the doctor yet. They are checking my hormone levels to see if they can figure out what's going on.
I've started knitting an afghan for the living room. It is going to be huge and just might function as our new home if we are not able to get our finances together in time. I mean, financially we are doing just fine, but we need to come up with a large (for us) amount of cash in a really short amount of time. This is the part that's killing us.
We have worked really hard to achieve a certain comfort zone and, as it turns out, we do not want to stick to a strict budget (even short term) that requires us giving up the things we have become accustomed to.
Now, I'm not talking about lobster dinners every night, or even spending a lot of money on entertainment... I just want to be able to buy some shoes or a handbag without worrying when payday is.
During our first year of marriage, I became an expert at "Poor People Math". If you are not familiar with the term, PPM usually involves calculating exactly when a purchase will hit your bank account, how close it is to payday, and the likelihood of that purchase putting your account in the negative. Often you are trying to figure out how many meals you will have to skip if you rent a movie, or how many pennies you think you can find between now and the end of bank hours.
We considered ourselves very lucky if we had 17 cents in our bank account at the end of the week, and every indulgence required a corresponding sacrifice. I ate once each day, usually around 2 am, and it was carefully chosen from the dollar menu or the "Manager's Special" space at the grocery store where I worked. I remember one week I was going to buy a head of lettuce and my debit card was declined. How embarrassing is that? I had to have one of my cashiers ring me up, and then my debit card was declined... Fortunately, I found 54 cents on the floor so we were able to have a ranch salad topped with Parmesan cheese packets.
Admittedly, that was one of the low points.
This year we have, financially, been better off than I ever could have imagined. I usually don't have to worry about the bank account unless I overspend while grocery/clothes/entertainment shopping or if we make a major purchase.
We really enjoy having less stress, and we are finally getting out of debt. I'm really not sure whether I want to give all of that up for a house... especially for one so small... and expensive...
Decisions, decisions...
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
the crow flies at midnight...
So... I was told to stop being so cryptic. Basically, I was afraid that the offending party might read a rant about them and get mad.
The crazy thing is... I don't really care. I'm not saying anything that isn't true, and they are aware that I feel this way, so I don't think expressing my feelings should be a bad thing.
We are planning a trip home at the end of the month because my Mammaw is dying. She has lung cancer, and the doctor gave her 6 months about 4 years ago. She just celebrated her 91st birthday and her health has really gone down since I last saw her.
Since My Husband's family lives a few towns away, we wanted to stop by and see them while we were down. This turned into a huge mess, because they thought that we should entirely devote our trip to them. His Mom wanted to know why we have not made time for his grandma's and basically just wanted to guilt us into canceling plans with my family.
His family came down for about a week a few months ago and were planning to come back in November. Since I have not seen my family in over a year, and My Husband has not seen them in over 2 years, I don't think it's fair that His family want's to monopolize our time.
There was some drama, and My Husband ended up yelling at his parents. He told them that they were being selfish and that if they were going to be jerks we wouldn't see them at all.
I do not want anyone to tell me how I can spend my time. This is my vacation time, and I can use it however I want. I swore that we would not come home again simply to avoid all of this drama, and now I realize that I shouldn't have to stop myself from seeing the people I love.
In other news, we were supposed to go camping with The Roommate and Our Neighbors this weekend, but that didn't happen. I went up to the campsite to drop off The Roommate and hang out for a bit. Then O and I went to pick My Husband up from work. I needed her help to get down the mountain because we got so lost on the way up. We thought we were going to be late, and ended up having to wait for almost 3 hours since My Husband had to sit through a debrief. I don't know all of the specifics, but My Husband took a shot that helped blow something up somewhere in the world. Less than an hour after the debrief, we were roasting marshmallows over a campfire.
It takes someone with amazing mental capacity to go straight from blowing things up, to singing songs and having fun.
In other other news, my skill for the day is lactating. Which, is not so much a skill as a medical concern. Since I'm not pregnant I've made an appointment with the doctor next week to get my hormone levels checked, as well as getting checked for tumors and whatnot.
It scared the crap out of me.
So, for now, everything is great. I've got some pictures taken for a future post, the cat isn't being completely insane, and we have a few hours left to ourselves.
Life is awesome!
The crazy thing is... I don't really care. I'm not saying anything that isn't true, and they are aware that I feel this way, so I don't think expressing my feelings should be a bad thing.
We are planning a trip home at the end of the month because my Mammaw is dying. She has lung cancer, and the doctor gave her 6 months about 4 years ago. She just celebrated her 91st birthday and her health has really gone down since I last saw her.
Since My Husband's family lives a few towns away, we wanted to stop by and see them while we were down. This turned into a huge mess, because they thought that we should entirely devote our trip to them. His Mom wanted to know why we have not made time for his grandma's and basically just wanted to guilt us into canceling plans with my family.
His family came down for about a week a few months ago and were planning to come back in November. Since I have not seen my family in over a year, and My Husband has not seen them in over 2 years, I don't think it's fair that His family want's to monopolize our time.
There was some drama, and My Husband ended up yelling at his parents. He told them that they were being selfish and that if they were going to be jerks we wouldn't see them at all.
I do not want anyone to tell me how I can spend my time. This is my vacation time, and I can use it however I want. I swore that we would not come home again simply to avoid all of this drama, and now I realize that I shouldn't have to stop myself from seeing the people I love.
In other news, we were supposed to go camping with The Roommate and Our Neighbors this weekend, but that didn't happen. I went up to the campsite to drop off The Roommate and hang out for a bit. Then O and I went to pick My Husband up from work. I needed her help to get down the mountain because we got so lost on the way up. We thought we were going to be late, and ended up having to wait for almost 3 hours since My Husband had to sit through a debrief. I don't know all of the specifics, but My Husband took a shot that helped blow something up somewhere in the world. Less than an hour after the debrief, we were roasting marshmallows over a campfire.
It takes someone with amazing mental capacity to go straight from blowing things up, to singing songs and having fun.
In other other news, my skill for the day is lactating. Which, is not so much a skill as a medical concern. Since I'm not pregnant I've made an appointment with the doctor next week to get my hormone levels checked, as well as getting checked for tumors and whatnot.
It scared the crap out of me.
So, for now, everything is great. I've got some pictures taken for a future post, the cat isn't being completely insane, and we have a few hours left to ourselves.
Life is awesome!
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Hypotamoose
So, lately I've been a bit of a Drama Llama I guess. When something dramatic happens in my life, I like to share it with others so that I can get it off my chest and get their unique viewpoint. I always hope that learning someone elses view will help me clarify my own.
I will not be sharing the most recent drama just yet, but this is what has caused me to be so lax with my updates. I promise I will have something great this weekend, but for now... I'm in Zalcatraz with no forseeable escape.
Have a good night!
I will not be sharing the most recent drama just yet, but this is what has caused me to be so lax with my updates. I promise I will have something great this weekend, but for now... I'm in Zalcatraz with no forseeable escape.
Have a good night!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
It's finally over...
So, this has been one of the longest weeks of my life...
And my weekend will not be as restful as I had hoped. We are going house hunting again.
My ideal home would be big, with several extra rooms that I could use for various things. Like, we'd have a theater room for movies, a sewing/crafting room, a computer room, a library, a quiet room, extra bedrooms, the living room, dining room, at least 4 bathrooms, and a garage. It would probably be somewhere around 6000 sq ft, with a big open yard.
Unfortunately, this is Las Vegas and that is just not going to happen. Ever.
Hopefully we can get something where there is an extra room that I can cram full of things that I don't want anyone else to touch. I'm not sure if it's just the hoarding instinct that I grew up with or if I'm just incredibly selfish, but I like to have a stockpile of things handy just in case something happens. Unfortunately, I think it's insane to tell look someone straight in the eye and say "don't drink the water, I'm saving it" when we live in the desert.
I've already been told that I was insane for telling My Husband and The Roommate that they could not use the kitchen if they were unable to keep it clean. Somehow, I don't find this unreasonable..... but now I know that I should. (apparently...)
Whatever, the mood has passed-- I'm done being crazy about cleaning. I realized that if I want it cleaned the way I like it, I'm just going to have to do it all myself and then I will hate everyone and resent them for depositing their filth everywhere.
So... That Guy and My Husband got into a big of a spat a few days ago. My Husband can be kind of insensitive sometimes, and That Guy has issues with expressing his emotions verbally... this led to a rather nasty email that was sent in the wee hours of the morning, just before we went to bed. We read it, and looked at each other... I told My Husband to tell O that That Guy was not allowed in our house until we could sort this out. I was so mad that I didn't know if I even cared to talk about it, but ultimately decided that our friendship was more important. (Rather, That Guy and My Husband talked about it while I was at work, so I really couldn't say anything.)
omg the cat just dug his claw into my back and i'm bleeding...
OW!
I can't wait until this little bastard... err... lovely kitten doesn't have any more claws.
Oh yeah! I promised pet pictures.
Meet Professor Chaos Alastory Moody: Eater of Crepes.
Cute, isn't he?
Imma go bandage myself now. Until next time...
And my weekend will not be as restful as I had hoped. We are going house hunting again.
My ideal home would be big, with several extra rooms that I could use for various things. Like, we'd have a theater room for movies, a sewing/crafting room, a computer room, a library, a quiet room, extra bedrooms, the living room, dining room, at least 4 bathrooms, and a garage. It would probably be somewhere around 6000 sq ft, with a big open yard.
Unfortunately, this is Las Vegas and that is just not going to happen. Ever.
Hopefully we can get something where there is an extra room that I can cram full of things that I don't want anyone else to touch. I'm not sure if it's just the hoarding instinct that I grew up with or if I'm just incredibly selfish, but I like to have a stockpile of things handy just in case something happens. Unfortunately, I think it's insane to tell look someone straight in the eye and say "don't drink the water, I'm saving it" when we live in the desert.
I've already been told that I was insane for telling My Husband and The Roommate that they could not use the kitchen if they were unable to keep it clean. Somehow, I don't find this unreasonable..... but now I know that I should. (apparently...)
Whatever, the mood has passed-- I'm done being crazy about cleaning. I realized that if I want it cleaned the way I like it, I'm just going to have to do it all myself and then I will hate everyone and resent them for depositing their filth everywhere.
So... That Guy and My Husband got into a big of a spat a few days ago. My Husband can be kind of insensitive sometimes, and That Guy has issues with expressing his emotions verbally... this led to a rather nasty email that was sent in the wee hours of the morning, just before we went to bed. We read it, and looked at each other... I told My Husband to tell O that That Guy was not allowed in our house until we could sort this out. I was so mad that I didn't know if I even cared to talk about it, but ultimately decided that our friendship was more important. (Rather, That Guy and My Husband talked about it while I was at work, so I really couldn't say anything.)
omg the cat just dug his claw into my back and i'm bleeding...
OW!
I can't wait until this little bastard... err... lovely kitten doesn't have any more claws.
Oh yeah! I promised pet pictures.
Meet Professor Chaos Alastory Moody: Eater of Crepes.
Cute, isn't he?
Imma go bandage myself now. Until next time...
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Uh oh, I made a mess... time to be cute so they don't eat me!
So... I mentioned that we have a kitten now, right?
Did I mention that our apartment complex is unaware since there is a $500 pet deposit?
The complex left a note on our door saying that they would be coming in to do some preventative maintenance...
We decided to go with the "cat sitting" excuse, but also to try and hide all traces of the cat as well as possible.
To fully understand the story, we must travel back in time-- about 2 years ago.
My Husband decided to join the Air Force and I moved in with my parents while he was in Basic Training. Part of this decision involved saving money, and part of it was because I didn't want to live by myself in our neighborhood (especially after my car got broken into, twice, while we were sitting in the living room, right next to our parking spot).
We ran out of time and space during the moving process and ended up filling 3 dumpsters full of crap that we couldn't/didn't want to take. Since we had been sleeping on a waterbed, we threw away our regular mattress. Then I remembered that a) waterbed sometimes leak, b) it's a pain to fill and drain a queen sized waterbed, c) we usually have a bedroom on the second floor.
I decided that we needed a regular mattress since it would be much easier to move, so I went on a quest to find the perfect sleep time friend. I talked to several sales people, each with a different idea of what the perfect mattress should be, and found myself going back to the same one over and over, bringing different friends and family members to get their opinion.
I got an amazing deal.
A $3,000 king size designer mattress ended up being a little over $700 for the mattress, foundation, and bed frame.
She is named after her designer, Vera.
Rather than being able to sleep on her immediately, she was shoved into storage where she would wait to be transported to our new home.
My Mom is one of the most amazing people in the world, and she helped us get moved into our new place. Since My Husband was going to be at work, Mom came to help me get everything cleaned up and situated so that we could get off to a good start. We had a hotel room on base, since the apartment wasn't going to be ready right away. Once the place was ready for us to move, Mom decided to stay there so that My Husband and I could... get reacquainted after the months he had been away.
Since she was staying in the apartment, my mom was the first to sleep on Vera. She immediately told me of the horrible, crippling pain she had after sleeping on our new friend. I was mortified-- Had I made a critical error in choosing design, squishyness, and price over stability and support?
My Husband had to live in the dorm rooms on base for a little while, so I stayed in the apartment with Mom.
The first night on Vera was hell. Every muscle in my body, including those that had been forgotten long ago, was screaming at me. I felt terrible because not only were we outside the return time frame, but we were in a completely different state. As most members of the military, we did not have the money to spend on another new mattress. I just knew that I was going to have to sell her and buy something different
Before we went to bed, Mom told me that the second night wasn't as bad... I didn't believe her.
I woke up, and all of the pain was gone. It was like I had been sleeping on soft, fluffy marshmallows. My dreams were filled with unicorns and upbeat guitar melodies; butterflies danced across fields full of rainbows... It was that awesome.
Since then, Vera and I have been the best of friends.
She lays there, all soft and squishy, calling me to her when she feels lonely. Every night I lay on her and think about how wonderful she is. Even now, I can hear her whispering softly.
If anything were to happen to her, I'm not quite sure what I would do.
Fast forward to last night.
The kitten has not been allowed in our bedroom for many reasons, but mostly because I didn't want anything to happen to Vera.
I know how kittens like to claw things, and I didn't think it would be right to ask my friend to put up with that. She may be a mattress, but she has feelings.
So... we decided to keep the kitten in our room so that we wouldn't have to explain it's existence when the people came to work on the HVAC.
The kitten was a little hyper from being exposed to a new area and started pinging around the room. After about an hour, we grabbed the cat and started petting him so that he would calm down and go to sleep.
He bounced around the bed for a few moments before settling on the comforter between My Husband's legs. He sat there, watching X Files. I reached over to pet him, and My Husband let out a terrible cross between a scream and a groan.
"Paper towels. Now."
He flung the cat from the bed so that he could move away from the giant wet spot. I tossed him a roll of paper towels and turned on the light... I don't know how much the cat had to drink, but I really think he had been saving it up for just the right moment.
I threw the comforter into the washing machine and pulled the sheet off the bed. There, on the glorious white surface of my beloved Vera, was a lake of cat urine.
We grabbed the cleaning spray.
After 30 heartbreaking minutes, I finally got everything cleaned up. After everything had been washed and dried, we dressed her up and tried to let her know that everything was going to be alright; that we still loved her.
Even though the spot is gone, the memory will last forever. I let her down... and she will never be the same.
I hope, in time, she will forgive me.
Did I mention that our apartment complex is unaware since there is a $500 pet deposit?
The complex left a note on our door saying that they would be coming in to do some preventative maintenance...
We decided to go with the "cat sitting" excuse, but also to try and hide all traces of the cat as well as possible.
To fully understand the story, we must travel back in time-- about 2 years ago.
My Husband decided to join the Air Force and I moved in with my parents while he was in Basic Training. Part of this decision involved saving money, and part of it was because I didn't want to live by myself in our neighborhood (especially after my car got broken into, twice, while we were sitting in the living room, right next to our parking spot).
We ran out of time and space during the moving process and ended up filling 3 dumpsters full of crap that we couldn't/didn't want to take. Since we had been sleeping on a waterbed, we threw away our regular mattress. Then I remembered that a) waterbed sometimes leak, b) it's a pain to fill and drain a queen sized waterbed, c) we usually have a bedroom on the second floor.
I decided that we needed a regular mattress since it would be much easier to move, so I went on a quest to find the perfect sleep time friend. I talked to several sales people, each with a different idea of what the perfect mattress should be, and found myself going back to the same one over and over, bringing different friends and family members to get their opinion.
I got an amazing deal.
A $3,000 king size designer mattress ended up being a little over $700 for the mattress, foundation, and bed frame.
She is named after her designer, Vera.
Rather than being able to sleep on her immediately, she was shoved into storage where she would wait to be transported to our new home.
My Mom is one of the most amazing people in the world, and she helped us get moved into our new place. Since My Husband was going to be at work, Mom came to help me get everything cleaned up and situated so that we could get off to a good start. We had a hotel room on base, since the apartment wasn't going to be ready right away. Once the place was ready for us to move, Mom decided to stay there so that My Husband and I could... get reacquainted after the months he had been away.
Since she was staying in the apartment, my mom was the first to sleep on Vera. She immediately told me of the horrible, crippling pain she had after sleeping on our new friend. I was mortified-- Had I made a critical error in choosing design, squishyness, and price over stability and support?
My Husband had to live in the dorm rooms on base for a little while, so I stayed in the apartment with Mom.
The first night on Vera was hell. Every muscle in my body, including those that had been forgotten long ago, was screaming at me. I felt terrible because not only were we outside the return time frame, but we were in a completely different state. As most members of the military, we did not have the money to spend on another new mattress. I just knew that I was going to have to sell her and buy something different
Before we went to bed, Mom told me that the second night wasn't as bad... I didn't believe her.
I woke up, and all of the pain was gone. It was like I had been sleeping on soft, fluffy marshmallows. My dreams were filled with unicorns and upbeat guitar melodies; butterflies danced across fields full of rainbows... It was that awesome.
Since then, Vera and I have been the best of friends.
She lays there, all soft and squishy, calling me to her when she feels lonely. Every night I lay on her and think about how wonderful she is. Even now, I can hear her whispering softly.
If anything were to happen to her, I'm not quite sure what I would do.
Fast forward to last night.
The kitten has not been allowed in our bedroom for many reasons, but mostly because I didn't want anything to happen to Vera.
I know how kittens like to claw things, and I didn't think it would be right to ask my friend to put up with that. She may be a mattress, but she has feelings.
So... we decided to keep the kitten in our room so that we wouldn't have to explain it's existence when the people came to work on the HVAC.
The kitten was a little hyper from being exposed to a new area and started pinging around the room. After about an hour, we grabbed the cat and started petting him so that he would calm down and go to sleep.
He bounced around the bed for a few moments before settling on the comforter between My Husband's legs. He sat there, watching X Files. I reached over to pet him, and My Husband let out a terrible cross between a scream and a groan.
"Paper towels. Now."
He flung the cat from the bed so that he could move away from the giant wet spot. I tossed him a roll of paper towels and turned on the light... I don't know how much the cat had to drink, but I really think he had been saving it up for just the right moment.
I threw the comforter into the washing machine and pulled the sheet off the bed. There, on the glorious white surface of my beloved Vera, was a lake of cat urine.
We grabbed the cleaning spray.
After 30 heartbreaking minutes, I finally got everything cleaned up. After everything had been washed and dried, we dressed her up and tried to let her know that everything was going to be alright; that we still loved her.
Even though the spot is gone, the memory will last forever. I let her down... and she will never be the same.
I hope, in time, she will forgive me.
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