January 4

9:25pm

Well, last night was interesting. I had a boy over. The first since Sam in October. Once you’ve caught your breath, we can move on.

After Roomie got back, we went out to meet one of our friends, who was hanging out with her big brother for the night. He was nice and hilariously funny and spoke Swedish (I should say I’m a total sucker for the whole blonde haired blue eyed Nordic thing). We started out by drinking Aquavit, which is some strange Scandinavian grain liquor, and it spiraled downhill from there for everyone but this guy and I, who stayed mostly sober. I didn’t want to flirt with him because I know Roomie has had a baby crush on him for a while, nothing serious, but she’s my best friend and I didn’t want to step on any toes. She told me to go for it, though. She says she’s known him too long.

Anyway, we all went out and he was flirting and we were dancing and one thing led to another and we went back to my apartment. Now, I was NOT planning on doing any such thing tonight. By this I mean my room was disgusting and my legs were not that recently shaved and our apartment smelled like cat.

I have not had a boy over since The Cat came to live with us. She immediately sensed that her side of the bed was threatened and went into panic mode and started pacing outside my bedroom door and yowling. She finally broke in, don’t ask me how, and began to pace around the bed. Seriously, top notch yelling. Then, mid-event, she jumps up on the bed and starts staring at this poor guy, who was like “Okay, I love cats, I just can’t deal with The Cat right now.” Over the next hour it becomes apparent that The Cat has two modes: Sleeping RIGHT next to this guy with her tail draped over his stomach and her butt all up in his business or pacing around the apartment yowling inconsolably. Over the next several hours while we try to get some sleep I am continually getting up to try to chase the cat away.

Thankfully, this guy was really nice about the whole thing.

It was a good night, though. He said I was pretty and he was an expert snuggler. Then this morning we slept in and he brought me breakfast in bed and it was just… nice. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything in the long term because he’s just visiting his sister from the other side of the country but it made me feel better. I still got SOME game, even if I am a crazy cat lady with a psychotic feline. I have to get The Cat under control.

And you know what’s weird? In one night he did a million little things that Sam never managed to do in seven months, and that wake up call was a nice added bonus.

Spent 5 hours grading those essays today. Ugh. Back to work tomorrow.

January 3

11:54am

Official first day of following resolutions, as all day yesterday was spent on an airplane back from home and did not count. And nobody ever counts the first. In the words of Bridget Jones, everyone is too hungover and cranky.

When alarm went off at 9:30am, hit snooze until 11:30am, when I was awakened by my cat poking my face with her paw and wondering why I was still comatose.

I was supposed to go to the gym today. That’s alright, probably best to ease into these things. Besides, it’s good to get some really high-quality sleep on the weekends. I’m back at work on Monday and I will have plenty of time to go to the gym after that. I will not, however, have time to sleep till 11:30am when I have to be coherent in front of a classroom of children at 8:00am.

Things to accomplish today:

  1. Unpack suitcase from vacation. Do not live out of suitcase like bag lady until February.
  2. Grade 90 five paragraph essays submitted to me by my middle schoolers for evaluation over Winter Break. Plan of doing ten per day for nine days over break failed miserably so therefore must be wildly productive and get through them all today. Oh, also, there are 120 unit exams. Those should be done too.
  3. Clean temper tantrum cat hairballs off of everything while trying not to dwell on the fact that your cat is punishing you for having to suffer the indignity of an excellent cat sitter who cost $17 per day.

Best get going.


 6:39pm

Well, I did not grade the scary stack of student work that I promised myself I would look at today. Which means that all of tomorrow will be spent in a state of frenzied, coffee-fueled grading. Things to look forward to.

I did, however, unpack my suitcase, which is a big accomplishment for me, as I usually do not do this for several weeks following my trip. In fact, over the course of these few weeks, I usually shove MORE things into my packed suitcase off the floor when I am “cleaning,” which makes the final unpacking event much more… involved. I was surprised at how well it went when I did not encounter a layer of random receipts, hairbrushes, batteries, cat toys, and other debris before getting to the main event. Clothes are now hanging nicely in the closet and I’m feeling very proud of myself.

Currently waiting on roommate to get back to apartment from her Christmas on Long Island and enduring malevolent stares from The Cat. She tends to forget that I rescued her from certain euthanasia in September, when I chose her half-blind, toothless, yowling, 7-year-old self over dozens of frolicking kittens at the shelter. Even the adoption ladies were all, “This is not an easy cat. This is a SPECIAL cat.” But, because I am a sucker for a sob story and they told me all about her previous abusive homes, here she is. She tolerates me, and I think sometimes we might be approaching love.

I have been idly browsing OkCupid but I am thinking I might delete it. I’m noticing that everybody has one big flaw that you cannot see when you look at their profile, but becomes immediately apparent as soon as you decide to meet them in person. They’re usually dealbreakers for me. Thus far, I have encountered…

  • A good looking, well-educated engineer with a voice like Minnie Mouse
  • An Ivy-League educated banker who SAID he was 6’2″ but was actually more like 5’2″ (and I towered over him let me tell you)
  • A guitarist for a band who must have photoshopped his pictures so as not to include his cystic acne
  • An actor with glorious sculpted eight-pack abs who turned out to be a pretentious womanizer

All of this makes me wonder if I have some huge dealbreaking flaw as well that I am blissfully unaware of. Do they meet me and be like, oh man, what a freak that one is? Since I stopped texting them all back I guess I’ll never know.