Masters of the house

My parents are slaves to their two cats.
I am a slave to my parents.
My parents are in Hawaii on vacation.
So, by transitive property, I am now a slave to their two cats.

I will be living at my parents' house this week to maintain it and its contents while they're away. My parents have always been animal lovers and any pet we've owned has been spoiled rotten, but now that there are no children in the house I think it's gotten worse. These cats, Buddie and Marlie by name, have a pretty specific schedule to maintain, and who knows what kind of chaos will unleash if the schedule is interrupted.

Buddie is the sadistic one. He likes to wrap himself around your legs as you walk, trying to get you to pet him. If you take the bait and reach down, he'll chomp you playfully (but painfully) on the arm and run away, only seconds later to come back and start rubbing up against you again. He also loves to hide around the corner from Marlie as she's coming and then jump out, swat her on the tail, and then run away. You can even see the evil glint in his eye in the picture.

Consequently, Marlie has become a paranoid schizophrenic. She is rarely ever at ease, aways keeping an eye out for someone or something coming to get her, she'll jump at the smallest noise, and sometimes she'll chase and pounce on imaginary things. We call her the Sixth Sense kitty. That look of terror in her face is pretty much a constant.

My mom gently reminded me that Buddie would probably wake me up somewhere around 5:30am and yowl until he's let out, and that it would be a good idea to feed Marlie at the same time. Then sometime in the afternoon feed them a second time, making sure they're never fed the same flavor of cat food two meals in a row. Sometime that evening make sure to pet Buddie for awhile, and let Buddie out to play at night but make sure he's back before I go to bed. I "uh-huh"ed myself as quickly as possible through the instructions figuring I could fudge over the details throughout the week.

This morning I was rudely awakened rather early by Buddie yowling. I rolled over in bed to look at the clock.

5:30 exactly.

I won't lie... it gave me the heebie jeebies, like I was in a Stephen King novel or something. So, wanting to avoid Buddie putting a kitty-curse on me or somehow being licked to death (because that's what would happen in a Stephen King novel) I promptly got up and let him out, and on my way back to my bed I was stopped in the hallway by Marlie, meowing pathetically like she hadn't eaten in a week. That's when I realized that they weren't joking around. These cats mean business.

And the worst part is, I can't remember what flavor of cat food I fed them tonight. So if someone finds me dead tomorrow having been suffocated by turkey and giblets being crammed down my airway, you'll know that I have chosen poorly.

Reasons I can't complain

I had some people unduly alarmed after my last post. I'm fine, really. I still do not have a job, but hey! Look what I do have!

• I am surrounded by loved ones every which way I turn. It makes it pretty hard to crawl into a hole of self-pity, even when I make a conscious effort to try.
• I have a more correct idea of who I am, why I'm here and what I'm capable of than most people (good news indeed.)
• My basic needs are consistently met, as well as many of my wants.
• I am free. Well, I AM a slave to Costa Vida chicken salads, but other than that...
• I just happen to have rhythm AND music.
• I have relatively obedient, versatile hair. This is really dumb, but I was so grateful for this fact a couple days ago that I took the above picture in my gratitude.
• I have a wicked awesome blue guitar and am learning to play it more and more.
  

This list is by no means all-inclusive. It's just a few of the reasons I've been happy to be me lately.

Slippery slope

What's the difference between being happily unemployed and being unhappily unemployed?

...A couple of weeks.

Last summer I spent three months after graduation looking for the "perfect job" before I found the less-than-perfect job which I quit a month ago. During that three months I slowly sank into a fairly deep depression (fairly deep for me anyway... I'm not easily depressed, so I take even the slightest bit of the stuff pretty hard). I didn't realize that's what was happening at the time, but in retrospect I can see how I became less and less motivated to do even the things that I like to do regardless of my employment status.

Now that I recognize what happened, I'm doing my best to keep an eye out for myself while I struggle in my current job search. I even let my pride down long enough for me to admit to myself that while I feel like I should want to work in social services because that's what my degree is in and any good person would want to be doing good during their 8 hours a day, the truth is that there are very few social services jobs that even interest me in the slightest. The good part of this admission is that I'm more likely to find a job that I WILL enjoy. The bad part of this is that I'm more likely to start whatever I decide to do at a less-than-desirable wage.

The problem with being so darn well-rounded is that I have to decide for myself what interests me, and that fluctuates from day to day. The day I gave blood I suddenly wanted to be a phlebotomist. I watched a special on harvesting equipment and suddenly wanted to be a gardener or farmer.

And daily, from 4pm-5pm, I want to be a Ninja Warrior.

So I'll let you know where I end up. In the meantime I think I'm going to find some temp work to keep a little money coming in.

It was a temperate and overcast afternoon...

A man named Neron Volt was found dead...

and a number of suspects roamed his homestead.

My murder mystery went swimmingly. All the characters showed, everyone put on a good show, and it was all very well received by those in my mom's ward who participated. By name special thanks to Casey Wayman, Cristi Yates, Gina Johnson, Steve Porter, Ryan White, Chalese Craig, and Eric Barney for helping!

What I REALLY do on Friday nights...

...well, this Friday night anyway. More pictures to come.

4:50am

Last time I was up during unholy hours of the day with an upset stomach I blogged, so I thought I'd do it again.

I spent the day in Logan on Thursday, and boy do I miss it. It's like reopening a wound in my heart everytime I go back. I stopped in to talk to one of my favorite professors who is kind of like my own personal Magic 8 Ball - anytime I start to flounder I shoot him an email or talk to him ("shake" him) and he'll give me his honest thoughts on the topic, whether it be about going back to school, career direction, or personal life advice ("reply hazy, try again"). It was fun to see him.

I'm spending my unemployed days helping my mom with a murder mystery she's setting up for her ward (she's the activities chief). I've rounded up some people to play the parts and spend my days gathering props and costume items. I'm now the proud owner of a head-to-toe red sequined dress which I will wear playing the role of Lera Luscious, the hottest singing act at the Purple Petunia. You can look forward to pictures from that in about a week.

My sprite is gone and I'm feeling better, so I'm going back to bed in the hopes to wake up in two hours and go to the gym.

I AM an American Gladiator...

...or, I felt like one for a minute. My friend McWayne was kind enough to invite me to take a stab at his inflatable human hamster ball thing, and in an instant I imagined myself weaving in and out of muscled people dressed in patriotic spandex playing Atlasphere. Here's a little taste:

I have another funny video of me jumping in the ball on the trampoline but I can't figure out how to rotate the video so that it'll be right side up. Anyone have any insight on that? If so, I'll post it. Until then, here's me peeking out of one of the entrance holes.

And McWayne, the one to thank for the fun between-conference-sessions activity.
Speaking of using my muscles, my roommate Jenny and I helped do some demolition on a house that our bishop is renovating. I won't lie... it's fun to destroy things with a pitchfork.

Still job hunting. I'll update you when I have more on that.