the first time....

So.... after coming into the blog world a little late (I discovered Post Secret only a few months ago...) I've become obsessed with them; I find it hard to start my day without checking out some of my favorites (hellloooooo Cakewrecks). The more blogs I read, the more I began thinking in blog posts. I would crack myself up in the car over something stupid and think to myself "that would make a funny posting...." Thanks to many of my friends who said they would read this. (esp. Amy and Jason!)

So here goes. What will follow are simple musings about my daily interactions. Some may be sentimental, some may be snarky and mean, some perhaps one liners that crack me up. I'm keeping this anonymous because, well, I think it would be easier. I might want to talk smack about one of my colleagues (or one of my students), or reveal something that I don't want the general public to know about me. I will certainly drop hints from time to time, but I hope to keep this a secret. For my friends who I've told about this - please don't bust me out over the comments. I'll just delete them and then make fun of you... and probably tell some story about you that you don't want people to know.

The pressure of what to write for the first entry is pretty daunting. What can I possibly say that would engage people enough to read more?

Here's something about me: I have cats. Two of them. I am not an obsessive cat person. No cat cartoons on the fridge, no cat sweatshirts, calendars, cards, wrapping paper, etc. for me. I don't buy them a lot of toys because they prefer bottle tops and rubber bands. I like cats because I think they are funny and weird, and I don't have to walk them and I can leave them alone for a long weekend and frankly I think they couldn't care less.

For the sake of the blog let's call them Barfy McScratch-a-lot and Scaredy O'Fatass. (Barfy and Fatass for short...) Clearly you can tell they are Scottish and Irish, respectively. After 11 years of living under my roof, Barfy has begun to wake me up with his funky breath meowing in and poking my face around dawn every morning. This isn't so bad in the winter when the sun is up for like 4 hours a day (gotta love NY) but this summer it simply pissed me off. No matter how many times I shoved him off the bed and covered my head, he manages to find the one small hole in the covers and slide his little clawed paw in there and scratch me.

So, a couple weeks ago, I finally gave in and got out of bed to find out what he wants. He walks promptly to the food and meows. There is clearly food in the stupid bowl, but that must not be good enough anymore so I pour in a little more kibble. He takes a sniff and walks away. "What the hell?" I yell, pissed off that I've had to get up waaay too early to feed a cat, and then Fatass comes running from under the couch (remember his first name, people) and begins eating (thus his last name...). And I've discovered that after 6 years of living together, they are finally figuring out how to get the best of me. I imagine the conversation something like this:

Fatass: "Psst... Barfy, come here..."
Barfy: "Dude, I'm busy ruining the arm of the couch, what do you want?"
"I gotta talk to you about something, let's go into the wall"
(I have a hole under the sink in my bathroom and the cats basically hang out in the wall at night. What I imagine goes on in there will have to be the subject of another post)
"Why the wall? I'm happy out here barfing on the brown carpeting so that the human doesn't see the barf until it's crusted into the carpet."
"Whatever, man, look... I'm hungry. You gotta hook me up with fresh kibble. The crap that sits out all night sucks."
"What do you want me to do about it? I can't reach the top of the fridge to get the stupid container. In fact, I can't open the top either..."
"We've got to find a way to wake the human up at the butt-crack of dawn so she'll feed us."
"Us? There is no 'us' in the scenario, I'll eat anything."
(seriously: plants, garbage, toilet bowl water... anything)
"Look, you're the favorite (he is) and she'll listen to you. Besides, I get to freaked out anytime she moves and I have to jump off the bed."
"Okay, what is in it for me?"
"I'll eat some of your barf so that she won't be as mad at you."

And a deal was made. At least that is how I imagine it going. I don't know for sure if Fatass eats Barfy's barf, but I have my suspicions.