fishy tears

I mess up a lot.  To the point that sometimes I can present a pretty convincing argument to myself that I am just a useless, unwanted, untalented piece of trash that isn't worth anything.  That, folks, is what some people call depression, and I think we all go through it at some point in our lives.  For me, it was yesterday.

The real problem is talking myself out of the argument that I have so artfully worked myself into.  And for all of my blessed family and friends, sometimes what I need the most is a quiet companion who likes to cuddle and accepts my state of mind for what it is.

In short, sometimes I need my cat.

In my own weird and roundabout way, I'm just trying to say this: whether you have depression or love somebody who does, you don't always have to exhaust yourself trying to cheer them up or fix their problem.  Sometimes people just need a good listener, or a bear hug, or a no-questions-asked-pillow-fort-and-disney-movies session.

Or sometimes people just need to cope by drawing atrocious cartoons of their cat.

Well, that's what works for me anyways.  I hope this at least cheered somebody up and made them tackle their nearest furry friend (human or otherwise) for support.  Cheers!

wings & things

Story time.  You all know that I am a huge cat person.  I think they're just dandy.  So dandy that we have three of them.  Romeo (very fat) and Holiday (very thin) are mine, while Maris has Frodo (Romeo's brother; not fat but very squishy overall).

The only thing about cats that is a little less-than-dandy is the gifts they give you.  Hairballs, mice, and the occasional lizard are common trifles, but last week our felines stepped it up a notch.

I was going outside to feed the cats like any normal morning.  They were all there, plus the stray orange cat that our family is still denying that we support.  As usual, they were all very eager to greet their food-giver.  

That's when I looked down and saw it.  Or rather, them.

Our cats had somehow managed to catch a bird, and the surprising part was that there was no bird to be found.  Only two very neatly severed wings sitting on our doormat.  

A couple of studies suggest that cats see us as big, dumb, bald felines that need to be taken care of, thus accounting for behavior such as grooming and leaving offerings at the door.  So I guess I should have been flattered.  Instead I just think our cats have a twisted sense of humor.  

Last I checked the wings are still on the porch because nobody wants to touch them.

bad doodles and disappointing narratives

That's it.  That's basically what this blog is going to be.  Just a bunch of poorly-drawn illustrations of the uneventful things that happen to me.  I tried doing a well thought-out, developed, pretty, soul-searching blog (twice, actually), and I'm just pretty miserable at it.

Plus it's way more entertaining to make fun of myself.

It's also a gentle way of informing people of just how dramatic I can be on very minute subjects.  Take this week's run to the pharmacy for instance.

It was a fine day and I had just gotten my teeth cleaned at the dentist.  In a fit of loyalty towards my oral hygiene, I decided to visit the drug store to pick up some mouthwash, as I had recently run out.

Mouthwash.

I had bought this many times before, and let's be honest guys it's really not that complicated.  Feeling frugal and minty-fresh, I picked up the cheap store-brand and went my merry way.  Looking down at my purchase, I felt very satisfied.

my shameful crappy realistic portrayal of the deceptive mouthwash packaging

At first, all appeared well.  Until...

I looked closer.

Notice the red arrow.  Notice the tiny black scribble it points to.  It's tiny because the package had some very small writing on it containing a rather specific piece of product information.  It's also tiny because I drew that on an app with my finger and well I did the best I could.  But guess what that tiny scribble said.  Guess what it said.

*dramatic enlargement*

ANTISEPTIC.  My reaction proceeded as follows:

don't ask me why this picture is appropriate it just is

Ok so maybe the label wasn't quite so drastically tiny or positioned so inconveniently but gosh darn it, it was still bad graphic design.  It's even worse when I was actively reminding myself throughout my shopping experience "whatever you do, don't get antiseptic mouthwash".  I done messed up.  But the deed was done, and the seal was broken.  I had to use it.

And I did.  And it was awful.  *que horribly rendered re-enactment*

it burned twice as bad from eating jalepeno chips directly beforehand

In case you have never tried it, antiseptic mouthwash tastes like antifreeze and the tears of orthodontists.  The flavor is just close enough to normal mouthwash to lull you into believing that it is effective and an acceptable substitute.  I'd gladly host a few bacteria colonies on my tongue if it meant I wouldn't have to return to using that stuff.

Long story short, it's really yucky stuff and I thoroughly enjoyed being overly dramatic about it to myself for a few days before finally accepting that it was just bad mouthwash and it was literally meant to be spit out anyways.  Instead, I now just wake up every morning and stare into the mirror like this:

Happy swishing.