(Editor's note: this may or may not offend cat lovers - don't take it personally please. Second Editor's note: yes I changed my blog template - the pink was becoming nauseating, as I'm sure some of you can agree to)
So last night had all the ingredients to make it a great night. I was planning to work out while Andy went to a networking event, then shower and go over to his place for a movie night. There are LOTS of great movies that Andy hasn't seen - and me being a movie buff thought it only appropriate that I share some of my faves with him. So 8:45 rolls around and I head over to his place - and we had talked about getting a late dinner since we were both preoccupied earlier that evening. So we go and grab some yummy mexican from El Torrero (delish!) and head back to his place. The nachos were to die for and I was quite content during dinner.
We put in Footloose (i know what you're thinking, he hasn't seen Footloose? Wait, who HASN'T seen footloose that was born before 1989? I know, right? Anyway), so we started watching footloose and were cuddling on the couch. We're cracking up at the 80s fashions and the 80's style-gymnastic dance sequences that break out at random times throughout the movie. Then, The Bear decides he wants to join us. The Bear, or "Bear", as Andy likes to call him, is Andy's cat. Now I'll straight up be the first one to tell you, I'm not really a cat person. And Andy knows this about me - but I have developed a tolerance for cats over the last year and a half because my roommate has one as well and she lives with us. Now, I will never really be the type to sit there and cuddle with the kitty or scratch her belly when she sprawls out on the floor in front of me when I'm trying to get to the kitchen - it's simply not in my genes - but I don't freak out around them. I don't think I'm allergic to them, I simply tolerate them. Some people are cat people, some people are dog people, some people are full-on animal lovers and some people are just not pet people. I fall into the final category there. I blame my mother - who wouldn't let us have any pets growing up. She says its because she doesn't want to be the one who ends up taking care of it and she doesn't want it scratching up or chewing on her furniture (understandable, my mom likes nice things, and she can afford them, so there's that). Anyway, the closest pet I ever came to having, while growing up, was a pretty red fish named Rube. Who lived in Mrs. Pirkle's office. At our church. I basically got to name him and feed him once or twice a week. And that's the extent of my experience with pets until PCBH came along and brought Breuggen into my life. Breuggen is a sweet cat sometimes. She's very petite, really pretty f-ing cute if you like that sort of thing, and she only has a few minor quirks that annoy the hell out of me. Like pulling on the blinds in our living room so hard that she almost breaks them, just so she can see outside. Or randomly sprinting and jingling around the apartment doing the thriller dance when you come around the corner. Or jumping up on the soft brown blanket that I always use when I'm watching TV on the couch. Or scratching up my mom's couch that I inherited before she was de-clawed. Or sticking her nose in our food that's left on the stove when I'm clearly going back for seconds. Or sprawling out on the floor in our hallway in the morning when I'm half asleep, causing me to trip over her and practically knock myself out in the process.
Right, just a few quirks. Now Bear, is another situation entirely. Because you see, Bear is new to my life. I only just met Bear about a month ago. He seems like a nice enough cat, he's curious about me, and I understand that. But he has some similar quirks that Breuggen has that I have to adjust to differently than I would if it were Breuggen. He likes to sniff/lick food that's out on the counters, he sprints across the room like Breuggen does - little things like that. But I have to be careful about how I react to these types of things with Bear versus, with Breuggen. For one, Bear doesn't live with me - in fact (because Bear is a cat and you know how territorial cats can be - cat lovers, don't scoff, you know it's true), I'm technically a guest in Bear's home, not the other way around. If Breuggen misbehaves (like with the blinds or eating out of the calphalon pan), we either throw bottles of nailpolish at her or lightly smack her on top of the head and pull her off the counter tops to let her know she's doing something wrong. If the spray bottle is around, we spray her with that. And before you go calling PETA on me, PCBH does it too! You've gotta teach her some discipline while you're home because you know she gets into all sorts of mischief when everyone is away at work all day. SO, back to Bear. Bear is Andy's cat and me being a guest in Bear's home - I'm not exactly allowed to badger the thing like I would Breuggen. Plus, I think Andy might get a little mad at me and think I'm an animal hater or something - which I'm NOT, I'm just not a huge pet person. I like pets for about an hour or two to play with, or if I'm at the park and I see a cute puppy on a leash and I want to pet it, but I just don't have that animal lover gene in my body. Thank you mother.
So, last night, watching Kevin Bacon in all his dancing glory, I started to get a little chilly so I got this white soft blanket to cover up with. Wouldn't you know that the white blanket is Bear's blanket. He loves the thing. Now, me, trying to put my best effort forward to show that I don't hate cats, humored Bear for a little while and let him rest on the blanket with me. Pretty sure Andy thought this was just adorable/sweet and I suffered through it until the movie was over (Sorry Andy, just trying to be honest). Then, it was time for Bear to get up. But no, that was not going to happen. I nudged him - very gently, tried to get him to roll over and jump off the sofa, but he was not havin it. He just buried his head further and further into the blanket (read: my tummy). So I'm essentially stuck under a cat. Maybe if I slide him to the other part of the sofa? no. Bear's dead weight apparently. awesome. ugh. now it's just getting frustrating, so finally I inch Bear away from me enough to be able to get up off the couch and put in another movie. I switch blankets so that Bear won't be so inclined to join me this time, but no no, Bear has decided he likes my fluffy belly apparently, and wants more of it to nuzzle into (I know, all the cat lovers are going "aww but that's so cute!") it's cute for about 5 minutes, then it's just annoying. Sorry - again, not a pet person here.
So, Andy gets Bear to move and he's on the armrest of the sofa now, sans blanket and sans my tummy, and he's just glaring at me. Purring? Growling? I dont know, but I don't like the look I'm getting. But I ignore it because the movie has started and it was my absolute FAVORITE movie in the world: Just Friends. As you probably already know, I have a knack for quoting movies and I can pretty much play this one out in my head from start to finish. I'm anticipating the quotes and laughing before the punchline. And I really wanted to share this movie with Andy because 1) it's my fave and 2) he's never seen it and 3) it's really flippin hilarious. Not even 10 minutes into the movie, Andy falls asleep. And he does that thing that my mom always does "what? no i'm awake, i promise" every 2 minutes. He was a lost cause. So I got up and convinced him that we should go to bed. He obliges. So I borrow a t-shirt and sweatpants and climb into bed. Andy lays flat on his back and wants me to rest my head on his chest. Which is fine for about 10 minutes but I cant really sleep that well on a guys chest because 1) the heartbeat and breathing distract me and 2) I get really hot when I sleep and added body heat like that on my face and neck just make me really uncomfortable.
So I lay there for about 10 min and decide it's way too hot to continue like this. So I take off my sweatpants and crawl back into his nook and try to fall asleep. Andy is out cold. Like, un-moving, dead-to-the-world, OUT. So eventually (after about 20-30 min more of laying like this) i start drifting off to sleep. i'm pretty proud of myself for being able to rest this way. I'm almost under the clouds when I feel 4 little paws pounce on the bed. Oh no. You've got to be kidding me. Really? The Bear is Back. Now, it's pitch black so I can't really see where the Bear is, despite his white coat that should stand out against the black night. Then all of a sudden, he's right behind my head, practically ON Andy's face, just crawling around, minding his own business (or so he would have you believe). And I can feel his coat brush my hair. ugh. what do i do? Andy's passed out and not waking up from Bear's little midnight romp - what do I do????? (Zack Morris Time Out: One thing that PCBH and Breuggen respect about me is that Breuggen DOES NOT sleep with me. Ever. Period. My door is ALWAYS closed when I go to bed at night. Breuggen isn't really even allowed in my room because I don't want her causing mischief and getting her pet dander all in my sheets. And I guess I'm a pretty light sleeper because I remember when I was growing up that every time I'd sleep over at a friend's house who had a cat, I would always wake up in the middle of the night, thanks to a late-night pounce onto the bed. That being said, Zack Morris Time In) So I slowly turn over so that I'm no longer on Andy's chest but I'm on my own pillow, facing away from The Bear. The LAST thing I want is to end up with scratches on my face thanks to a cat that's not even MINE. How would I explain THAT? So I try to sleep. But Bear is still making himself comfortable, marking his territory and I'm starting to think that he wants me OUT. And this theory proves to be true over the next 2 hours. I kind of drift off for a minute or two and then Bear has changed positions, he's laying on andy's shoulder, pretty much breathing into the back of my head. And then the purring begins. Really? Really, Bear? I try to block it out and sleep but I can't. So I turn to look at The Bear and I swear to you he's just sitting there smiling a devilish smile back at me like "who do you think you are? I own this place, bitch!" So I turn my head back the other direction, scoot further away and try to sleep. A few minutes later, Bear decides he needs to stretch his little paws, right into my back. Welp, yep, that's it. If I thought I was going to get any sleep tonight I was sadly mistaken. So this little game continues, with the purring, and the stretching and the moving around eventually, I give in. Bear wins. There is no way that Bear is going to let me get even 15 minutes of solid sleep - that's not even enough to get a good REM cycle going! So at 2:30, I can't take it anymore. I HAVE to get some sleep because I HAVE to go to work in the morning. I can't putz around like I did last Wednesday thanks to a fun night at Star Bar - and I don't even have a hangover as an excuse to use this time. So, with that in mind, I wake up Andy (feel really bad about it), and get my things and go. Smoke a much needed cigarette as soon as I get in the car, mumbling to myself the whole way home about how annoyed I am about Bear. I finally get home and I can't sleep there either! I toss and turn for about half an hour before I finally drift off to sleep. 7:30 came way too early this morning. WAY too early. Ugh... trying to wake up now with my large coffee from Einstein's. This should be an interesting day.
~Sleepy McSleeperson
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