The crunchies

Sorry for the lack of posts, but I got a JOB!!! WOOOOO!!! When I'm not at work, I'm asleep or wearing my ouchies helmet. The ouchies are back for reals. More on that later.

I want to tell you what happened this weekend. On Saturday night, Maya was going crazy at the window because the crunchies were parading back and forth.

The crunchies are the night time creatures of my back yard, like raccoons, cats, possums, sqwrls, and other nocturnal animals that like to stalk by on the fence outside Maya's window and freak her out. They also freak me out if I have to go to my car when it's dark outside.

This is how I picture them.

Anyway, the crunchies seemed to be having a rave outside the window, because they were stomping around for hours. Maya kept vigil at the window all night.

Fast forward to the next day. Steve and I were going out and I was driving so I got in the drivers side of my car. Steve walked around to the passenger side and was about to get in the car when he paused, ducked his head down to look at me, and said "did you see that?" I said no. He told me to look away.

There was a dead bird on my car. A dead bird. On my car. And that's not the worst part. The bird wasn't whole. It was MISSING ITS HEAD!

I'm pretty sure the crunchies were trying to send me a message.

Maya needs a Catio

Maya has the boredom. I know this because she attacks the television when I'm watching it because the attention is off of her. She's normally a very well behaved cat, but ever since the television has entered our lives, things have changed.

It all started this Christmas when Steve got me a new TV and a Wii. I always had a TV, but I barely ever used it. Now I have a Wii with streaming Netflix and a new TV stand. And Maya doesn't like this. Now I no longer sit at my desk and let her lay across my arms while I type at my laptop. I sit on the couch and the laptop is on my lap and there is no room for Maya. She does not like this. Not one bit. Maya decided that the television is her mortal enemy. And it needs to be destroyed. 

First wave of attack: kill it with cuteness. Maya thinks that by distracting me with her fluffy butt, I will forget that there is a TV behind her and give her lots of love and num nums.

She's mocking me. You can see it in her eyes. 

This did not work. I attempted to deter her from sitting directly in front of the screen and batting at the screen by setting up a complex trap consisting of a cardboard strip with double sided tape stuck to one side (sort of like a weak glue trap) and bowls with fresh lemons on each side of the screen (lemons are natural cat repellants. I'm not kidding. Look it up.)

I'm watching Blue Planet. That's a shark. 

Maya scoffed at my feeble attempts to deter her and took the high ground.

Creepy cat is creepy.

I was out of ideas, but Maya had an appointment for a checkup, so I asked the vet if he had any suggestions for me on how to stop her from attacking my television. He said he'd never heard of anything like this. Awesome.

He suggested that I put on cartoons or nature shows or anything else very animated for her to watch when I'm not there so she can think that the TV is for her too. I didn't do this. But I did put on Blue Planet while I was there and we watched it together. 

So that brings us to the Catio. Steve and I have been watching Jackson Galaxy's show on Animal Planet and HE says that bored cats need outlets for their inner wild animal. So this weekend, we're going to Ikea and getting stuff to make a catio. That's a Patio for Cats. Or a cat friendly patio. Or something like that. Except I don't have a patio, so we'll probably just get shelves and make Maya a perch so she can look out the window and not attack my electronics. It's worth a shot. I want to keep her happy. She makes me happy. :)

Maya is good for migraines. Apply directly to affected area. 

Daddee-Ma

A year ago today, I was unexpectedly in the driver's seat of my dad's car, driving him, my mom, and my aunt to Long Island to see my grandmother in the hospital. It was unexpected because a) I hate driving to Long Island, b) I had been in Long Island less than a week ago, and c) my grandmother's health had declined very quickly.

We were about a half hour from the hospital and in some awful traffic when I heard a cell phone ring and my mother answered. I heard her say "Oh no. Inna lillahi Wa inna ilaihi Rajioon." My heart stopped. She has just recited the dua you say when you hear that someone has died. My grandmother had died and I had missed seeing her one last time by a half hour. And I had to keep it together because I was on the BQE in heavy traffic with a car full of people, two of whom had just lost their mother.

My father's mother, or Daddee-Ma, as I called her, was my last living grandparent. She lived in Long Island with my father's youngest sister and her two children.

I got a lot from Daddee-Ma. Physically, you could see that I am her granddaughter. I got her round arms. I got her short fingers. At the funeral, I sat next to her sister and was amazed at how similar our hands were.

I'm not sure what I wanted to say. I'm sad today. I regret not seeing her more. I miss her. I think was harder at her funeral because it felt so unexpected. With Ma (my maternal grandmother), I was there for her life, her sickness, her death. With Daddee-Ma, I missed so much. And now it's too late.

A love letter

Warning: sappiness and gooey love within. You have been warned. Read at your own peril.

I am in love. I never thought I would be. I hoped for love. I dreamt of love. I thought I knew what it would be like. I thought I knew what he would be like. I thought I knew what it would feel like. I was so wrong. It's even better than I thought it could be.

When I was younger, I thought that the man I would spend my life with would be my other half. He would be my knight in shining armor. He would sweep in on a white horse and solve all my problems and we would live happily ever after and life would be complete once he was in my life. Now that I'm older, I know that love doesn't solve your problems, but having someone who loves you makes your problems easier to bear.

The man I love brings me joy. He makes me stronger. He makes me laugh. He understands me. He has seen me at my best and my worst. He's my best friend. He's the first person I want to talk to in the morning and the last person I want to talk to at night. He knows me better than anyone else. He sees my weaknesses and doesn't judge me for them, but allows me the room to grow and become a better person.

Babe, I can't give you the world for Christmas. I wish I was rich. I would buy you iPads and mixers and cars and guitars. But I can't. You have been so amazing to me and I want you to know how much I love and appreciate you. I used to hate Christmas. Now I look forward to sharing this season with you. You've turned me into one of those sappy, lovey, gross, happy people! I love you. Merry Christmas.

Night terrors

The last few nights have been pretty dramatic in the Haydia household. I live on the first floor of an old Victorian house. In my bedroom, there is a fireplace that's been boarded over. I use the mantle as a backdrop for my vanity and I have a mirror propped up under it and my dressing table sits on the hearth. I used to love my fireplace. Not anymore.

Two nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and thought I heard scratching. I assumed we had a mouse. We occasionally get a field mouse stuck in the house and Maya usually chases it out. No big deal. She's a good hunter. So I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep, assuming Maya would deal with it and I made a mental note to walk carefully in the morning, just in case.

Fast forward to the next night. The scratching was louder. Much louder. Still, I ignored it. Maya was on the prowl, all good. I figured I would set a mouse trap or something the next day and I tried to go to sleep, but I was starting to worry.

Ok. Last night. The scratching? INTENSE! Like loud, constant, awful scratching. And Maya knew exactly where it was coming from. She sat under my vanity and stared intensely at the wall, Blair Witch style. So I freaked out because I saw teeny wood chips coming out from under the wall which meant that IT WAS ACTUALLY MAKING PROGRESS GETTING THROUGH and called my sister, who sent over my brother in law. And when he came over he told me to look in my yard. And I saw two large deer standing under my kitchen window. And that's when I broke.

I had to go sit down. Maya was running in circles. My brother in law was shining a light under the wall and then a little black hand reached out and tried to grab the light.

Want to know what I was dealing with?

Here you go.

And this is no where near as loud as it was in person. It was LOUDER.

My brother in law got some rat poison and shoved it under the wall and taped it over and put a mirror and a box in front of it so Maya wouldn't get too close to it and told me we had to wait for it to die or else it might escape into the house and wreak havoc on me and my cat. So yeah. I had to stay in the house and wait for the poor thing to die. So now I have a vengeful ghost raccoon living in my walls.


UPDATE: (as of a few seconds ago) 

Maya and I were chilling in the living room as I have been avoiding the death chamber that is my bedroom and I swear we both heard scratching. I know she heard it because she had been sleeping like this:

and then we both heard it and I looked at her and she was sitting straight up staring at me. So now we have a zombie raccoon situation.

Oh! And the deer eventually found the driveway and wandered off.

UPDATE 2:
I love animals. I love all animals. And I wrote this with a tilt to the funny, but I feel really bad for the little stuck raccoon. But it had to go. And I guess it was better to die quickly than to remain trapped and die of hunger? Either way, my brother in law wasn't going to open up the wall to get him out. I'm pretty sure it fell in from the roof and was stuck for a few days. And that's probably why I'm feeling so awful about it and don't want to go into my room. I feel like its tiny ghost is going to exact revenge on me for not being kinder to it while it was alive. I'm sorry, little raccoon guy! I don't have tools! My sister would have killed me if I cut into her walls! I'M SO SORRY RACCOON!!!!!

This is exhausting. I never want to sleep in that room again.

Going strong after a whole year

Yesterday was Steve and my first anniversary. We celebrated by him taking a half day off of work and going bowling with me. It was fun! I had a Groupon for 2 hours unlimited bowling (including shoe rental!), but we barely lasted an hour. He kicked my butt. I apparently suck at bowling, but got points for style. (I would only get a strike if I didn't look to see what I hit. Try it! It works!) After bowling, we went to the mall and then Target to kill time before dinner.

We went to one of our favorite restaurants, Go Sushi, for dinner. He had vegetable gyoza and beef negimaki, and I had the sushi special (tuna avocado, shrimp avocado, and to mix things up, the Alaska roll.) I believe I went wrong with the Alaska roll. I totally got food poisoning. I'm currently on my couch in the fetal position. I didn't sleep at all last night and all I've had to eat today is ginger ale and Pepto.

So our anniversary was slightly less than romantic. Thankfully, Steve is the best boyfriend ever and did not complain even though I kept him up all night and he had to be up at 6 am for work while I get to lounge around the house all day. I love that man. Happy Anniversary, Babe!

Wardrobe issues

Sorry for my absence, loyal readers. I had another life killer headache. Three days of misery! Fun times.

During my absence, I went into Manhattan for a job interview. Here's what happened.

I prepared all weekend. I laid out my outfit, bought new shoes, packed and repacked my purse, and gathered together my writing samples and resume. I was ready.
Day of the interview, I got dressed, then realized that my shoes were ridiculously uncomfortable, so I tossed them in a bag and put on flats. I wore my ModCloth River Boat Tour dress, with a shrug over it, and my patent leather Blowfish flats.

Then I drove to my parent's house in Elizabeth. My dad offered to drop me off at the train so I parked at their house to save on parking. My dad was adorable. He kept asking me if I was prepared and was I nervous. I was. And I said so. :)

So I'm on the train. And my mind starts working overtime. I get all panicky. "Is my dress appropriate?" "I think it's too short." "It's too wintery." "I look ridiculous." "I can't believe I wore this." "They won't hire me! I have no fashion sense!!!" and so on and so on. By the time I get off in Penn Station, I have convinced myself that I look horrible and need to change.

The sales girls helped me choose.
They were awesome.

So what do I do? I run into H&M. And while in H&M I remember that nothing in H&M fits me right, so I leave and go to Old Navy. I grab a skirt and shirt, pay, and change in the dressing room. I am now wearing this:

I had luckily brought the tote for my shoes, so I stuffed the ModCloth dress in there. I'm aware that I have issues.

So I take the subway to SoHo and arrive about 15 minutes early. I hang out in front of the building for about 5 minutes because I don't want to be too early, then go in. I change my shoes in the elevator.

I have my interview, and I think it went well. I really really hope it went well. It's definitely a position I can see myself doing well in.

I change my shoes again in the elevator.

And then I met up with my cousin and we got Americanized Dosa for lunch.

After Americanized Dosa, we go to UniQlo. I have beef with UniQlo. My cousin goes in and is looking for jeans. He is super hipster skinny, so we go to the women's department. He finds skinny lady jeans and purchases. While he is in the dressing room, I look around. Now, I know that I'm not a skinny girl. The skirt I got at Old Navy was a size large. I'm ok with my curves. I've come to terms with the fact that I will never look right in certain outfits. Some things just aren't meant to be worn by a person shaped like me. That said, I was looking around UniQlo and couldn't find anything over a size medium. There was maybe two size larges in the whole store. And these weren't normal size larges. I think their size large could possibly fit my 7 year old niece. Maybe. And only because she's really skinny. The shelves were packed with extra smalls. Seriously. I saw a girl working there who wasn't a toothpick, and wondered if she was ever able to take advantage of her employee discount. It didn't look like it.

So I left UniQlo feeling a bit down that all my clothes come from Old Navy and Target. But that's ok. The Target dress I'm wearing today cost less than a T-shirt at UniQlo. Win!

I got back to Penn Station and went back to Elizabeth. And was picked up by a very confused father. "Weren't you wearing black when I dropped you off?" "Long story, dad."

Boy troubles

I just watched The Dilemma and it hit a little too close to home. The same problems that Steve and I have were displayed. I think the Jennifer Connelly character, Beth, actually said some things that I've said.
Our big problem has been communication. I've been feeling in the dark about a lot of things, and he doesn't think it's necessary to bring me into it, as his problems are just that. His.
In the movie, Vince Vaughn's character, Ronny, has been keeping a secret about his best friend to himself, not talking to his girlfriend Beth about it. His explanation is that it's his problem, and he has to fix it. Beth says to Ronny that he isn't "fixing anything, just breaking more things... If you don't let me in, how do I know how to fix it?" I teared up at that line. It's exactly where I am today. Frustrated that I don't know how to help him. Sad that he doesn't want my help. Furious because he left me alone. Confused because I have no idea what is going on. Terrified of losing him.
Yes I know that I'm reading a lot into a Vince Vaughn comedy, but I'm not in a happy place today. It's been a week since I've seen him.