All aboard the coo-coo train….it’s time for some musing.

  Let me start by saying “Yes, I have been drinking” and “You’re no better than me” in my best drunken voice.

First item of business cats, Why do you got to be assholes? Only once did I have a cat that loved me unconditionally and he had a heart attack when he was two, it’s a hard life loving me….even for a cat. But back to the asshole black cat who has found her way into the hearts of everyone in the house. I’m sure part of her dark plan to off me with nail clippers in the middle of the night and take my place in the house. Cats are funny, we really are their pets. She doesn’t like where I sit my glass of water. Cat, “Oh I see you sat water here, let me knock that off and water the floor for you. You’re  welcome human.” Or the constant meowing and purring like she wants to be loved. I reach to pet her thinking, “This is it, she finally loves me.” WRONG……Cat’s mind, “Oh no! Don’t you dare pet me like an animal. Follow me now human!!! I AM STARVING. My bowl is only half filled and I peed in my box SCOOP IT now human, NOW! NoW!”  I can set items of mine on the bar and around the house at random then sit with a glass of wine or coffee and just listen to shit hit the floor all over the house. Anyways, why you got to be an asshole? I like my clutter, but Trubul likes clean surfaces. The cat need meds, like yesterday!

I just completely lost track. Second, I decided I really want a raccoon.

Third, I hate that I gained 20 pounds from the fucking medication, I only took for two months. What’s up with that shit?!? Husband typical rational response, “Well honey, it may not be the meds, diet and exercise are just as important and well you are a spring chicken anymore.” Well thank you Mr. Obvious. Thank you for reminding me, but I think it’s probably just the medication…..and maybe a little too much wine. Did I mention I quit two days ago only to drink for this night?

Third, why is the nut drinking and musing tonight? To be honest to avoid a low, I’m celebrating my misfortune. Yes, celebrating my misfortunes of the past two weeks. My bank account is nearly $5000 dollars poorer. Unexpected expenses just keep popping up, such as my two flat tire in one day on each of my vehicles, new tires all around, Hooray! If that wasn’t enough the dog joins in with her problems. This weekend, Dog, “my ear hurt human, I am itchy human, my ear hurts human” As she wagged and bugged the shit out of me. I finally pet her and scratch her ear to discover the dog has scratched so much she has a hematoma completely bulging in her ear. Also overnight, ear and eye infections, and a flare up of skin allergies. Off to vet, $700 later and a scheduled surgery this Friday estimated to be another $700 the dog is walking around happy and stoned on pain meds and allergy medication. I swear the dog thinks she is my husband mistress tonight. I actually getting jealous. I need a good scratching too……more wine.

Forth, I don’t even know what this post started out about, but pretty sure I was mad at someone and ignoring them by blogging.

Lastly, “You shouldn’t drink if you’re on medication. It defeats the purpose  and effectiveness of the medication you are taking” and my response to myself, “I fucking know that and you have to howl at the moon sometimes.” Pardon my language, it’s the Marine in me and being around them for decades. OMG, decades make me feel old.

I shall toast and be embarrassed tomorrow. But being bipolar does not mean I can’t howl at the moon every once in a while.

I am pretty certain the cat beat the dog up.

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The Cat talked tonight

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The cat talked tonight and I am certain  she’s schizophrenic and thinks people and inanimate objects talk to her.

She came into my life over a year ago shortly after I swore I’d never own a cat. Little did I know this black siren would play my children and enter our family on a bet. We were visiting family in Kentucky and as usual in the country you’ll encounter the barn cats and stray dogs. They honestly balance things for children in the Appalachia. Many of my best friends and confidences were animals. It taught me about unconditional love, trust, and loyalty. You’ll never find friendship like that of animals or someone who gives you and expects nothing but love in return.

So the black siren came as we visited Mam-maw (grandmother) just over a year ago. The kids had played with the cutest litter of stray barn kittens.  Something I was happy they got to enjoy, something I cherished from my childhood in Kentucky.

The kids begged and begged for us to take one home. Of course, selfishly I wanted a black cat, always loved them because they shared a stigma. I said if a little black kitten comes tonight we’ll take her home tomorrow.  Within minutes, we see this lone black kitten running to the door. “Dammit”, I thought, but honestly I was probably as thrilled as the kids. She was perfect! Absolutely the perfect cat. I agreed, but said we will name her Trubul like trouble, because I’m certain she’ll be nothing but trouble.

Fast forward, she is trying to kill me. Trubul has now been with the family long enough to execute plans. She’s no longer pet, but captive. I am her captor. She is living out the “Unbreakable” story (she watched the movie with me, I saw her snap). She would guard her catnip mouses, plan sniper attacks, plot her escape.

I only knew the cat was as crazy as me when I saw her talking to herself. Yes, talking to herself. She would meow something and in another tone meow back. It would continue, she would fight her alter ego for the one mouse not hidden under a couch. Everyday I accepted my cat was a schizophrenic bipolar cat.

Tonight she turned on me. In retrospect, it was when I tried to meditate, but she turned (see previous post). I was the enemy and we had a battle.

Without it being an “offense worthy of commitment” the cat has the upper hand. I’ll never have a rabbit to chase down a hole, because Trubul will kill it and probably lay it on my pillow, like a horse head from the godfather movie. She runs the house, she has the love, she controls the dog……to be continued CAT……to be continued….

Yes…..I had been drinking

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Seriously autocorrect autocorrected me four times before I could even post last night so I gave up and passed out.

Apparently, I delayed posting and saved it as a draft. It was embarrassing funny and trust me I saved the world from my extreme crazy. I deleted it, but my rantings and extreme love affair with Hemingway made me laugh out loud. The planning of my scheme to drive to key west and steal a couple five finger Hemingway cats. Then a realization, why am I so damn muddy in my kitchen. Then a sudden craving for McDonald’s, but I’d have to Uber so I gave up on the Big Mac.

All I know is I made it to bed with a trail of my clothing and tears, up three stories. I blew off some much needed steam, wrote a blog post about cats and love, and at some point I was falling down outside in the rain. Once in a blue moon we all need to howl at the moon. I think I actually did that last night.

I guess the point as my husband says, “It’s like the bad kid in church, it’s funny unless you own it” and I’m never drinking again.

Oh….almost forgot, the picture attached to this post was the one I put there last night. Haven’t a clue why or what the hell I was thinking, but it was thought provoking this evening so I left it on the post….your welcome.

Ode to the great black box of wine

  
So if you haven’t heard Black box wine is a award winning box wine. 50 gold medals, 29 wine enthusiasts best buy awards. Definitely an enabler for shenanigans.

I am 1/2 the carbon footprint of glass bottles, so I am hoping Leonardo DiCaprio appreciates I’m doing my part to save the environment. Cabernet Sauvignon is probably the best, but honestly after a glass who really cares enough to ask “what is this vintage, variety?”

So how is this a story……anytime I precursor a post with wine it’s probably going to be thought provoking. If I start it with whiskey, it’s going to start PG-13 and as with drinking end up MA rating. I just want to make my readers aware of time stamps on my post, take note. Right now, I’m comparing a smooth glass of opus one to box wine and it really seems equatable.  That is a true musing of a mad woman.

It’s certainly not crazy

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