eyes wide...shut?

In addition to the other 90 shows that we regularly watch, we are now completely obsessed with My Cat From Hell on Animal Planet. I know exactly what you are thinking and I don't know why we didn't watch it before either. It is gold. Pure, sweet gold. And the cat whisperer man is an absolute genius. If you aren't familiar with the show or said whisperer, he is pictured below.

Right? We have learned so much from this so, most importantly that our wee devil is not that bad. She has come so far, you guys. Fine, she pees herself at the vet (yes, only pee this time...thankfully) and she still hunts me (and only me). But I have learned that it could be SO MUCH WORSE.

One of the cats that Sir Galaxy was dealing with was feral, and to make the cat feel more comfortable around him, he slow-blinked at it several times. You know, slow-blinked. It is how cats know that you are not a threat and you like them. 

So at this point I'm all up in giggles. HE IS BLINKING AT THE CAT. THEY ARE SPEAKING WITH EYES. Dying. And then that Justin. He says, "What? I do that to jmeoww all the time."

You guys. I lost my shit. Completely. My boyfriend had been secretly eye-communicating with my animal and not telling me. Okay first of all, he eye-communicated. Secondly I had no idea and that was the kicker. They have secrets, those two. I KNEW IT. Next time I enter a room and they are both silent and glancing at each other I will know, just know that they are talking shit about me behind my back. WITH THEIR EYES.

Of course, because I'm a complete asshole, I shared this story with my friends and had to take it a step further. This is now how we communicate at lunch. Because sometimes you can't always say things out loud and nothing expresses your mood like a good slow-blink.

or the non-blink...

A Very Meowwy Christmas.

Welcome, one and all, to a very special holiday edition of The JMEOWW Diaries. Life has been incredibly crazy and overwhelming as of late, so what could be better than some ridiculous cat photos full of holiday cheer?

Cats and Christmas go hand-in-hand. Like bunnies and Easter. Jack and coke. Water and electricity. All my cat ladies out there, you know what I mean. The trees, decorations, wrapping paper, tissue paper, bows, electrical cords. We are creating a winter wonderland for our little furry friends. And while I find it hilarious, it is quite destructive and annoying. This was us last year:

I eventually gave up at just let her occupy the tree and destroy the ornaments. It was too much, and also hilarious. This year she has been much, much better. Probably because she is a fat and too big for our fake tree. Also because since moving in with her boyfriend she has developed some actual manners. She hates to disappoint her Justin, she really does.

Although I miss the giggles that come along with tree destruction, we still have Kousin Khloe to fill that hole in our lives:

And if it wasn't for this, I'm sure my sister would've sold her to the gypsies by meow:

I told you she was crazier than me. But you know who is even crazier?

The owner of this little shithead. This little ocicat has been harassing me via text lately. How, you ask? He has an extra toe. Obviously.

And with that, I think this counts as my first random Wednesday...

A severe case of the weekends.

Why, oh WHY is it not the weekend yet? Earlier this week, time was fa-ha-lying by and now I swear three weeks have passed before it turned into Friday. I am super excited for this weekend's events but also completely overwhelmed by the timeline in which they will be accomplished. Friday night we are celebrating Emily's birthday at Medieval Times and last time we went, this happened:

Yes, that is chicken skin. Cable Guy wasn't all bad.

In conclusion, I am equally excited and horrified to find out what happens this time. This CASE OF THE WEEKENDS has totally fried my brain, so you get some linkage today.

Aminals! 

Ice Cube, as told by cats.

Did you know HuffPost has an entire page dedicated to cats and cat related things?

And to prove I'm not entirely biased, dog shaming. Okay, so I am biased.

Faves Posts of the Week

The Everywherist kills it with this one.

Miss Erin totally made me PMP (pee my pants, for those of you playing at home).

Randomness

The only three dance moves you need to know. Ever.

Someone needs to buy me this sweater.

And holy neatness! The Smithsonian is pinning! (I pin too! If you're in to that sort of thing...)

My weekends are itching. I've got to deal with this problem. Hopes yours is equally amazing/horrifying!

The JMEOWW diaries V.2

Justin has been in JMEOWW's life since she was just a tiny terror. In fact, the night we met they also met and I'm pretty sure that is when she fell in love. Once when he was leaving my apartment on not so good terms, he said goodbye to her and she laid down on his feet. Smooth move, J! Why didn't I think of that? Okay, maybe it crossed my mind once or twice.

Needless to say, she has been quite thrilled that he is around more and more now. Except for the part where he took her spot in the bed. You see, my beloved cat is a tiny bit territorial. She had her very own pillow that she slept on every night. It also happened to be my tempurpedic pillow but the comfort of my neck is not nearly important as hers. She would literally come to bed every night with me and get cozy on her pillow. If I stayed up a little later to read in bed, she would stretch her little paws out and tap me on the cheek which I took as a demand to shut off the light so she could get her beauty sleep. I wish I was kidding.

For the Motherland.

We initially tried locking her out of the bedroom but she protested quite loudly and kept me up half of the night. Justin suggested slowly moving the pillow to the end of the bed, and then eventually to the floor. In the animal training world this is known as "successive approximations" to "shape" her behavior. I know this shit. The next night I moved the pillow down the bed a foot or so. And she slept ON MY CHEST. No one puts JMEOWW on the floor. 

I photographed this failure to send to him, which led to one of my favorite conversations of all time:

me: She looks like Stalin in that picture.
him: She does.
me: I wonder if there's any relation.
him:....to?
me: STALIN. Both socipaths. Murderers. Russian. So much in common.
him: She's probably a marxist.
me: Most likely.

Over the course of the past few weeks she has gotten much better at sleeping like a normal animal either on the floor or between us in bed like a human child. There is the occasional night where she sits on Justin's chest and stares at him in order to assert her dominance. Or to seduce him. It's hard to tell the difference with her. 

She can't seem to keep her legs closed.

Welcome to my Web Log!

Hi! I’m extremely new to the blogging scene. Not the blog scene in general, as I have a minor addiction to a few blogs. Please consider PDC to be a work in progress as I will be adding much more in the next few weeks. We will be discussing random life stories, fashion, and music. I’m excited to be writing (publicly) and I’m thankful for the people in my life that practically forced me to do this. And of course, I’m open to any feedback from you expert bloggers out there. To a certain extent. Don’t make me cut a bitch.

You might be wondering where you can purchase a polka dotted cat. You probably can’t. At least you shouldn’t be able to. Polka Dotted Cats is a phrase commonly used by my BFF and I when we aren’t sure what is going on. The phrase was born after a long night of drinking and bull-riding (not by us, fortunately) and that’s all we knew. That one of us said it. We don’t know why, other than that we were comparing something completely random that happened to said polka dotted cat. So why name a blog after a drunken and probably slurred phrase? Because life is weird and random shit happens, and I’m here to tell those stories. Like a polka dotted cat.