Flashback: Zonks

For as long as I can remember, I was never a "cat person," I preferred the canine species to the feline species. Of course, that all changed three years ago when the big, giant, fluffy mammoth of  a cat named Zonks showed up on my lap.

Dirty Snatch (the ex's younger sister) was asked by a friend of hers to watch her cat for the weekend. Of course, Dirty Snatch didn't have a ride to her friend's house and asked me to take her. Former Owner, provided her with a litter box, food, and litter, along with a very adorable kitty who seemed to be lacking a cat carrier. Former Owner informs that she "doesn't believe in cat carriers" and puts the cat into the car. Like I said, at this point in my life I am not a cat person, which means that as soon as the cat gets into the car, whose lap does she get cozy in? You guessed it...mine. During the entire drive back to Dirty Snatch's house, the cat stays snuggled in my lap.

Before I continue, I would like to point out that Former Owner took really good care of her cat. She was well fed (but not obese), she was well groomed, and quite friendly. Over the course of the next three months, Former Owner never asked for the cat back. Apparently, she either forgot about the cat or the temporary situation in which Dirty Snatch was originally cat sitting became a permanent situation. During the next three months, Dirty Snatch stopped caring for the cat. Instead of feeding her cat food, she started feeding her frozen meatballs (which quickly became delicious snacks for her two dogs). She quickly lost weight, appearing emaciated and scared.

After three months with no contact from Former Owner, Dirty Snatch once again called me for help, this time wanting a ride to the pet shelter to drop the poor cat off. Honestly, I'm not even sure if Dirty Snatch even tried to contact Former Owner about the cat situation. Poor emaciated cat desperately needed a bath and a good meal, so I agreed to take her for the sheer reason that I was tired of watching them slowly starve the cat to death.

Once again, the cat climbs in my lap to snuggle during the ride to the animal shelter. It's almost like we were bonding over this driving time. She kept looking at me with these adorable, sad eyes during the entire drive. With my luck with this nasty family, we arrive at the animal shelter only to arrive an hour too late. It was closed.

Dirty Snatch's solution to this problem was to simply open the car door and let her out to roam the world. Personally, I wanted to open her door, toss her out into the cold, and drive off without her. Instead of abandoning the undernourished cat, I took her back to my apartment.

Her first order of business was to hide for the remainder of the day, only to come out of hiding after I filled a bowl up with lots food and bought her a litter box with fresh litter (Dirty Snatch, in her infinite wisdom threw out the cat's litter box). Later that night, when I was fast asleep, I woke up to my new favorite animal laying on my chest, purring like there was no tomorrow. Of course, when she realized that I had woken up she flew off the bed and darted underneath the bed for the remainder of the night and a good part of the rest of the day.

Zonks, as she is now known, has lived with me ever since. She drools when you pet her and purrs all of the time. She's allowed to eat whatever she wants, seeing that for that rough three month period she was barely eating. Her favorite food is waffles, which she occasionally steals off my plate.

Flashback: Adorable Staples Clerk

Date: November 2008 - January 2009


In November of 2008, I headed into Staples to pick up a few things I needed for my classroom. While perusing through the aisles, I spotted a woman like no other. Amazing eyes. Gorgeous smile. Buns of steal. (She's probably going to kill me for the last comment...but it was worth it). I attempted to talk to her, but suddenly found myself with a rare speech impediment that left my mouth paralyzed. I may have even grunted. In a moment of panic, I quickly picked up the first item I saw on the shelf (colored paper clips) and headed towards the register.

Over the course of the next two months, I would work up the courage to go and speak to Adorable Staples Clerk but the courage quickly faded the moment I walked through the doors. Instead, I wound up purchasing many unneeded school supplies and spending the rest of my night building up the courage to talk to this amazing person. The major problem was that my Gadar was completely off, which I blame on the fact that Adorable Staples Clerk was wearing a uniform. The uniform was throwing me off since everyone was wearing the same exact outfit. How was I supposed to figure out if she was gay or straight when everyone in the building was wearing their regulation Staples shirt with black pants.

Since I couldn't figure out the sexual orientation of this lovely lady, it caused great difficulty in starting a conversation. What happens if I struck up a conversation with her and she turned out to be straight? Or worse...married?

By the middle of January, I had began texting and emailing a very cute girl named Rachel. During one of the conversations, Rachel told me that she worked at the Staples. The same Staples where Adorable Staples Clerk worked. Upon further inspection, I realized that these two ladies were in fact...THE SAME PERSON!

It took months for me to finally come clean to Rachel about basically stalking the shit out of her while she was at work. Though, I didn't phrase it like that. More like: "How would you feel if I was dating two people at once, only that the two people were actually one person and I never got around to asking the other girl out?"

Flashback: The Pajama Pants

Since this blog was started in May of 2010, there are countless stories that would have made great blog posts, but would have never seen the light of day since the occurred prior to May 2010. Therefore, I've created a new segment: Flashback. Similar to what I have done with Seven, I'm going to try to post a new Flashback about once a week (perhaps more if I run out of things to write about).

Without further ado, I would like to present the first Flashback installment: Christmas 2009.
Date: December 2009

As many of you may know, I have a thing for black and red plaid designs, which does have a specific name, though I can't actually find it. A world of information at my fingertips and I can't seem to find the type of plaid I like. Go figure.

While I was Christmas shopping for the fam, I came across an amazing pair of flannel pajama pants at Old Navy, that I simply fell in love with. It took a lot out of me, but I restrained myself from buying them for myself, knowing full well that Diddy and Momma Dukes have a habit of buying items for me that aren't on the Christmas list but are perfect for me. Plus, a majority of my clothes come from Old Navy, so I knew the probability of one of them buying them for me was pretty high.

On Christmas morning, one of the first gifts I opened was the flannel pajama pants. Like I said, the probability was high and Diddy pulled through. I was quite ecstatic about my new pajama pants and when I got home that night, I had to wash them so that I could immediately wear them. (I have to wash all Old Navy clothes before I wear them. There factory contains something that I am allergic too, and if I fail to wash them I break out in hives all over my body.)

Rachel and I had a lazy day after Christmas, though I did need to do laundry. Since I was feeling productive, I decided that I was finally going to get around to bleaching a stain out of one of my favorite white sweatshirts. While in the laundry facility downstairs, I managed to spill bleach on my black Vans sneakers, which happened to be the first gift that my Sperm Donner of a father actually bought for me in years. I was pretty disappointed, but was relieved that I didn't spill any on my new pants.

I headed upstairs to lament to Rachel, who just stared at me, with a look on her face that read "oh my god, she doesn't know." I sat down on the couch and continued to watch television and noticed a very tiny spot of bleach on my knee. I wanted to cry but kept it together. Leave it to me to ruin something that I just received.

After ten more minutes of lamenting about destroying everything great in my world I finally calmed down. Within moments of calming down, I finally went to take off my sneakers when I realized the huge mistake I made. I not only bleached my somewhat new sneakers, I had also bleached the entire ankle of my pants.

What...the...fuck...

Now I understood the expression on Rachel's face. She had already realized my Epic Fail of a mistake, but didn't have the heart to tell me. I think she was really hoping that I wouldn't realize the huge mistake until the very last moment. After literally having a temper tantrum, Rachel forced me to go shower and get ready for the day. Instead of having a lazy day, she was determined to take me to every Old Navy in New Jersey to find a new pair of pants.

During our all day marathon of Old Navy shopping, we never found the pants. When we got home that night, out of sheer guilt, I called Diddy to tell her about the pants. I thought she would reach through the phone and try to strangle me, but instead she actually started to laugh. First at the fact that I called her and practically scared the pants off of her by starting the conversation with "there's something I need to tell you." Then, she went into hysterics that I had actually cried most of the morning for bleaching my new pants.

To make me feel a little better, she tried to find the pants online but had no luck. For the last year, I've been wearing my bleached pajama pants. Rachel even offered to take black and red Sharpie markers to my pants to fill in the missing spots.

This past Christmas, Diddy made me forget about the whole ordeal by buying me a new pair of flannel, black and red plaid pajama pants. Rachel went all out with the black and red plaid by giving me a new wallet, hat, and shirt with the same pattern. I am now in black and red plaid heaven.