I had a great weekend with my friend Kristen. It was a much needed escape from the stresses of work and life, which have been piling up over the past month. It was fun to be able to do things with my friends (note that I do not really count the man among my "friends" because I have a tendency to think of all of my friends as being asexual and thinking of the man in those terms would be more-than-problematic to the relationship).

The man's mother is in town for the week, hence the lack of posts lately. I like her a lot - it is interesting to see where the man came from and where he got some of his idiosyncrasies and mannerisms. She really likes Jack, despite the little ditch-cat hissing at her and refusing to calm down when she holds him. Luckily, she like a cat with "attitude" and is not even joking when she says that he seems to be part bobcat. The man and I joke about it, but his mom is somewhat of a pet expert and this freaks me out a lot. FYI: I do not want a 35 lb. cat terrorizing the household, he does enough damage at 5 lbs.

I realize that the frequency of my posts is decreasing while their actual content interest is also on the decline. I'll work on that.


bon voyage!

These are the beings I come home to everyday.

BUT not tomorrow...my friend Kristen is coming to WI this weekend and I'm going to be visiting her at her parents'. Thus, the pets are going to be left under the man's supervision until I return on Sunday.

The man's mother is going to be staying with us for a week starting on Sunday as well. I've only met her twice as she lives in Oklahoma and doesn't make it back to WI very often. I know that she likes me (at least in comparison to the man's previous significant others) but I can't help but be a little nervous. I am thinking it will be a good, but busy week.


origin of the species

Here is a photo of the offending animal, which the man and I now believe to be a fossa. For those of you who are unaware, a fossa (pronounced foo-sa) is a mammal that looks very much like a cross between a dog and a cat - or, a cross between, perhaps, a dingo and a bobcat (such as our Jack).

Since we found Jack in a ditch, it is difficult to know his exact origins.

I take Jack to the vet on Friday for his second distemper shot. Perhaps now that he is older it will be more apparent that we are harboring a creature once thought to only inhabit Madagascar.



The neighbors have a sign in their front yard that reads "FREE KITTENS" in 3-foot tall lettering. The man and I, upon seeing this sign, have contemplated sneaking Jack into their litter of kittens and walking away (though I am sure he is three times the size and 5.3 billion times more havoc-wreaking). I love Jack, I really do, but he is being naughtier than usual lately and the man and I have not been getting proper sleep as a result.

I have suggested selling Jack on the black market, thinking that a bobcat/dingo hybrid would fetch a pretty penny, but have the sneaking suspicion that I am far too attached to him already. Because I can't bear to be rid of the little beast I am writing a complaint letter to his creator.

Dear Heavenly Father,

I am writing in regards to the good Samaritan act of kindness that the man and I performed by rescuing a stray kitten from a roadside ditch Sunday, May 14, 2006. As you are aware, having placed "Cat Named Jack" on that roadside with gunked-shut eyes, teetering dangerously close to the flow of traffic, this creature has some markedly obvious behavioral problems likely resulting from improper manufacturing practices. "Cat Named Jack" worked properly for approximately two weeks before signs of faulty construction became apparent. Below is a detailed list of the deficiencies of "Cat Named Jack":
  • Inability to remain still for more than 2.6 seconds.
  • Propensity to scratch and/or climb any vertical or semi-vertical object within or out of reach.
  • Acute sense of right and wrong with inability to adhere to "right" behaviors.
  • Hypersensitivity to movement and subsequent need to attack said moving object.
  • Teeth are too sharp.
  • Claws are too sharp.
  • Does not land on feet.
  • Broken food gauge = goes through one bag of kitten chow in less than two weeks.
  • Sleep mode is faulty = wakes up after minimal down time.
  • Reacts to the man's testosterone levels and, subsequently, is overly hyperactive in the man's presence.
  • Male features are still intact - will need to be removed. Has already required servicing amounting to $125 and is due for additional maintenance in the form of distemper and rabies vaccinations.
  • Overly cute. His cuteness may be hazardous to humans.
If you do nothing, I fear that "Cat Named Jack" will continue to show signs of disfunctionality. This is not an acceptable solution. In my opinion, your overall Godliness has a good reputation, and I trust that you will want to keep a customer happy. I see two options:
  1. Reprogram "Cat Named Jack," at no charge to me.
  2. Pay for behavioral training. If this resolves the problem without causing us any additional undue pain and suffering, the man and I will be satisfied.

If I haven't witnessed any change in behavior by Monday, I'll write again to follow up or may take up the matter with the Son or the Holy Spirit.


The Dish

P.S. If I have misdirected this letter and it should be going to your Southern counterpart, please forward.



I went to visit my parents in the Northwoods of Wisconsin this past weekend. I had a really good time, but my visit was a whirlwind adventure of events.

I attended Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest with my folks on Friday night. There is one movie theater with one screen within 30 miles of my parents' house. We attended the movie on the night it opened = first mistake. The movie was late to start (45 minutes) because the makeshift ushers (aka pimply high school kids) had to ask people to rearrange themselves so that each and every seat was filled in the theater. When the movie finally began, they decided to turn on the air conditioning (prior to this we were left to breathe in stifling, stagnant air of 300 people). The sound was awful, adding to the whole awful ambience. My dad was a few rows ahead of me and my mom (we were lucky enough to get two seats together). Then came intermission half-way through. For those of you lucky enough to frequent theaters with a timetable, you have probably never experienced intermission. Intermission is a break in the flick where people can go to the refreshment stand/bathroom/get a smoke while not missing the movie. Usually, this only lasts ten minutes. On this occasion, it lasted 20. Needless to say, no one was too happy when they left the theater.

My parents neglected to inform me of a family reunion, more than likely the omission was purposeful. I was shanghaied into attending (more or less, my father guilted me into going because my mother would not attend). I have nothing against that part of the family, I just barely know any of them and really don't have a lot to say to anyone as a result. But, to make Dad happy, I attended (plus, my grandma was tickled pink that she could usher me around to meet everyone and their brothers, cousins, offspring, etc.).

I went to an old friend's wedding that night (which was not the purpose of the trip, but rather a happy coincidence). I ran into a lot of people that I actually wanted to see and very few whom I didn't want to see. Mainly, I was able to see much of my family whom I haven't seen since February. I love my family for many reasons, but one of the biggies is that we can sit and criticize others in humorous ways for many hours at a time (this was evidenced by our conversations regarding the bubble gum pink, ill-fitting bridesmaids' dresses at the wedding). Oh, how wonderful it is to have partners in mockery.

I had a good weekend, but feel as though I haven't actually been able to relax. The drive is four hours one way and without air conditioning in 90 degree heat is almost unbearable. But, it was worth it to be able to see the family and to move some additional stuff down to my house.
The man missed me terribly (which still flatters me and makes me feel all a-flutter inside), as did the dog. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to have no feelings regarding my absence. This makes me sad (but I am happy that he was happy while I was gone). I actually heard a story from my cousin regarding the "missing" topic and it goes as follows:

Cousin to her 5 year-old son who spent the week with grandparents: I missed you this week.
Boy: I didn't really miss you, Mama.
Cousin: You didn't? That kind of makes me sad.
Boy: It's okay, Mama. Everybody doesn't need to miss everybody all of the time.



The man and I had a miscommunication yesterday which spoiled our plans for the evening. Note that I said plans because we had discussed doing something. He had thought that I would be working late (instead of having yoga class) and proceeded to not come home from his friend's house until 9 p.m. I understand that miscommunications happen, but I was not pleased to find out that he had still realized that he was late, even on his altered timeframe.

I am traveling north to spend the weekend with my parents and thought it might be nice to spend some time together before I leave. I was not pleased to have spent three hours waiting for the man to get home (I got a lot of things accomplished, but was more-than-perturbed the whole time). When the man got home he tried his hardest to get me to stop being angry with him - I'll give him credit for his originality, but won't go into details in this post. Below is a snippet of our conversation upon his return home:

Trish (from balcony as man exits his vehicle): Looks like you had to work late today.
Man: Umm...no...I was at Roger's helping him move a trunk. Did you just get home?
Trish: Yeah, three hours ago.
Man: I thought you had to work late.
Trish: No. I work late next Monday and Tuesday. I had yoga tonight.
Man (sheepishly): Do you want to go get some dinner? I thought we were going to hang out tonight.
Trish: So did I. Dinner is in the fridge, I ate two hours ago.
Man: You said you were going to be late.
Trish: Since when do I work until 9:30 at night?
Man: I only thought I was an hour late.
Trish: Why don't you strap a dick to your head so everyone else can see what I see right now.

All is well now (though he still owes me). I may even miss him over the weekend. I just hope he takes care of the cat while I'm gone and doesn't turn him from Jack into a jackal.



The man and I have been together for quite some time now (over a year, perhaps as long as a year and a half - I don't really know when a couple can legitimately be classified as a couple). In this amount of time we have gone from living in different states to living in the same state to living in the same house (this actually happened over about one month's time). I love living with the man. It seems, however, that I have gone from complete independence to whatever it is I'm doing now.

I didn't move here because of the man - he was definitely a part of it, but I have always planned on living here. Unfortunately, the man is the only person I had a connection to in the city. My best friend from high school (actually, the only person whom I've stayed in touch with) lives in a nearby city but her work schedule keeps us from seeing one another very often. In other words, I am rather limited in my scope of friends to do things with outside of work.

It seems to be impossible to make friends these days without seeming like you are trying to get in someone's pants. Men seem to assume friendliness and/or conversation is an invitation to bump naughties. Women seem to think you are trying to wrangle up their men and are often wary of other women. I can understand this and I am not judging, but it does make it hard to meet people.

My lack of friends in the general vicinity has indebted me to the man and his schedule. Before I left grad school I had an abundance of friends and was never left with the feeling of wearing out my welcome with any one of them; if nothing else I felt as though there wasn't enough time to maintain all the relationships. After college, it seems that I have an inability to meet people outside of the man's friend basket. Every woman in the man's friend basket is either an ex (I don't want to go there), married to a close friend of the man (meaning, much older than I), or has absolutely nothing in common with me. Even if there were some viable candidates, I do not want to get attached to anyone in the man's circle in case things go sour with the man and I'm left to give up the friends in the settlement.

I have tried taking classes (yoga, pottery, etc.) to no avail. I have tried hanging out in bookstores and coffee shops (this only led to men assuming that I was romantically available). None of this has worked. I have never had to work so hard at making friends in my life. I am hoping that the "pretend it's a dress" philosophy that I've adopted works. "Pretend it's a dress" = if you are looking for something (aka the perfect dress), you will not find it; if you are not looking for something, it will find you.

So, come on world - drop me a friend in the same county, I've stopped looking.



My brother and his wife are expecting their first child (sometime in November). While I can't imagine my brother being a parent or being responsible for another living, breathing creature, I am happy that they have decided to go the route of the breeders. I do not want to have children, neither does the man. I don't dislike children, per se, but I do feel awkward around the especially tiny ones and the ones where you have to monitor their bodily functions (aka what goes in and what comes out). I have never changed a diaper and would be perfectly happy if I made it through life without ever having to do so. It isn't that I think I would be incapable of parenthood, I just don't carry the desire to procreate. Personally, I believe that I have had to raise enough "children" in my 24 years of life - I have had many friends whom I had to take care of, clean up after and make sure they didn't burn the house down.

Breeders keep telling me that it's different when the kids are yours - they are less annoying and it is a pleasure to take care of them. I don't doubt that the bond creates a different experience, but I do believe that I could establish a bond with someone else's kid and then send it home when the fun wears off. Perhaps I am selfish, but I don't see a need for everyone to have kids. I know a number of DINCs who are happy and content with their lives (DINC = dual income, no children). The man and I have pets and I feel that they are close enough to offspring.

Taking care of pets (aka Jack) has also shown me that I am not cut out for reproduction. I love Jack and wouldn't trade him in for anything. He is a fast learner and will soon be able to take care of himself, for the most part. At ten weeks of age he is in control of his bodily functions and I only have to supply him with a food source, attention and litter box maintenance. In return he idolizes me and hisses at the roommates, which makes me happy. A human child would take much more effort and I wouldn't be able to spray it with a water bottle if it were naughty. Plus, I don't think children land on their feet if they fall from high places.

In other words, I would much prefer to be the cool aunt who spoils the hell out of her neices/nephews and then hands their sugar-laden, sticky selves back over to their parents.