This weekend, we facetimed with my sister-in-law, Amy, about a thousand times. It was pretty entertaining, even if it’s just to see her reaction to stuff.
That’sy wife and my sister-in-law Amy (AKA Lettuce).
She has my favorite dog.
We are birthday twins and like a lot of the same things.
I have never had a sister, but I have to say she was worth the wait.
Also, I may have seen Scary Lettuce for the first time today, so I’m just trying to keep on her good side.
If you don’t know, we have a cat. His name is Graham.
Graham is pretty old — 11 or 12 years. I don’t actually know for sure how old he is, because I am old and my memory isn’t great. My ex and I adopted him when he was about 6 months old. I named him that because he was the color of a graham cracker and definitely not after a queer lady movie character. We brought him into a house with two cats who had been together for 9 years. They got along okay, but he was always kind of a loner.
Then the other cats packed up their U-hauls and moved out, along with my ex, and suddenly Graham went from two mothers and two brothers to just me.
He was pretty confused for a while, and I still say he has abandonment issues because of it. He followed me around after my breakup, constantly yelling at me (he’s very loud) and snuggling with me on the couch and in bed. He used to wait until I turned over on my left side and then stretch himself along my back, falling asleep. That doesn’t happen anymore because there’s a strict “no cats in the actual bed” rule, so he often curls up at my feet, stretching himself along my legs.
He receives two pills a day now, the result of a few vet visits and some uneven thyroid levels. Chris and I have noticed that he still seems to be losing weight. He’s not as puffy and chubby as he used to be, and I can feel his bones now through his skin when I pet him.
I look at him now, curled up on his Poang IKEA chair, sleeping away, oblivious to the TV and his worried mother.
I’ve never lost a pet — he’s the first one I ever really had that was my own — and I’m not looking forward to it. Chris and I think that time might be sooner rather than later, but maybe we are just paranoid.
But he’s happy and not in pain and still playful as a kitten when we bust out the Star Wars laser pointer. And he certainly hasn’t lost his appetite.
Hug your cats extra hard today, friends. And I’ll do the same.
So, I’m sitting on my couch, trying to write about ClexaCon, and part of the problem is that I watched S1E1 of Wynonna Earp on Netflix this morning, and I’m pretty jazzed.
Yes, that’s right. The show I’ve been screaming about for months is on Netflix.
If you haven’t watched it, go do it. Now. Go watch it. It’s amazing and awesome.
Now, I realize not everyone will get the same feelings I did after watching. Maybe you can turn on the TV and see yourself represented no matter what show you choose. Maybe you don’t care about great writing, strong female characters, and queer representation. Maybe you think Val Kilmer is the best Doc Holliday and won’t allow your mind to be changed. Maybe you hate happiness. I don’t know your life!
But if none of those things apply, check it out. I allowed myself to watch the pilot this morning (I have stuff to do so I couldn’t sit down and watch the entire series EVEN THOUGH I WANTED TO), and here are some reasons you should watch, based solely on the pilot.
lesbiyinzer 