Festivus is Needed Year Round.

Many Christmas songs lament the lack of year round Christmas.  Or at least the "feeling" year round.  Not me.  I need Festivus year round.  I need that euphoria created only when I'm able to point out to someone why I think they are a jackass.  Knowing that I am right, they are wrong and that everyone around us knows it.  That closure that comes from knowing you have let it all out and the world knows how you've been wronged.  Ahhhhh, I'm telling you, it's the smell of victory in the morning....waaaaayyyy better than Napalm.

For today's post I'm going to use a different writing style.  I want to write some letters to some individuals that have been causing me strife.  It's been building up for a while and I need a way to say out loud what I'm feeling in a way that is safe for us all.  I can't even imagine what would happen if I stooped down to their level to speak to them.  So hear goes.

Dear Sasha,

There is a serious rift developing between us and I feel it's time we discuss it.  You know you are not allowed to pee in the house  Yes, it was you. Don't lie.  When I walked into Teddy's room and noticed the flood you stood up, looked over at the puddle, looked away and started to wag your tail.  See, that tells me you knew you weren't allowed to do that.  You were trying to play dumb.  I don't like that. You can not tell me you had no way to tell Teddy you needed go.  We both know you have a loud bark and that you aren't afraid to use it.  Don't tell me you've forgotten last weeks thunder storm.  You, the neighbors, all their dogs in a 2km radius and I both know your lungs are in pretty kicking shape.

Also you heard Teddy complain 2 times last week about waking up with you standing on his chest breathing your famous dog breath into his mouth.  That was why he fed you tic tacs.  Yes, I have already had a discussion with him about not doing that.

My point is this...you are an old dog.  Peeing outside is not a new trick.  If you want to live to be an older dog stop peeing inside.  You must have heard me swearing at you this morning, I assume that's why you went running out the door.

The ball is in your court.  I hope now you understand that my threats will become promises soon and I would think that you would not care for me tying your ass to the roof and have to fight with the bush turkeys for dominance.  Let me know what you decide.

All My Best,

Cecelia

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Wow.  People are correct.  Writing is cathartic.  Let's keep going.

Dear Monty,

This letter pains me to write.  Usually you are titled the"Best Cat in the World" and I mean that.  Seriously,  any cat who never uses the litter box and prefers to go outside, well, you're a winner in my book Baby!  However there are 2 issues that are causing serious pain in my life and we need to work something out.

The dead mice.  Seriously, what...the...hell...are...you...thinking?  For presents I like jewelry (sorry, not the cheap stuff) flowers, champers, an Ipad....you know, that sort of thing.  Dead mice left on the middle of the floor? This morning I walked into my closet and there was a dead one in the middle of the floor.  Dead for a while too.  Um, couldn't you just rub up against my feet to say you like me?  So no more mice, please.

Now as for sleeping arrangements.  Apparently last night I was too subtle for you.  When I grabbed you by the scruff of the neck and dragged your ass off of my chest and flung you to the floor I was really saying please don't cut off my breathing.  That did NOT mean please jump back up another 10 times.  I did notice that after all of that you decided to find a new spot to sleep and while yes that was an excellent thought your choice was a bit lacking.  The reason I was sitting mostly upright was because I was suffering from acid reflux last night and if I lay down I end up throwing up.   Very unpleasant, not good on the sheets.  That did not mean that since most of my pillow was unattended you should claim it and use you paws to kick my head off the tiny bit  was resting.  Also when I used my arm to tip you off the pillow that was not a hidden cue for you to come around from the other side and try to sleep on my head.

Let's work on our boundaries and personal space issues ok?  You know I love you but I'm not one of those, "Ahh, poor kitty needs to be near his mummy wubby, isn't this cute"  I don't like sharing my bed with the kids, hell even Ted most days, I'm not sharing with you.

Love,

Cecelia

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Not bad.  Feeling a bit more empowered now.  Last one.


Dear Computer,

You put up pop up notices when my files are done downloading, when my free virus protection service wants me to pay, when Adobe and Firefox need me to download some fix to whatever problem their smart ass developers weren't able to fix when it was in Beta testing.  You yell at me when the printer is down to it's last 300 pages of ink and you beep like Hell at me when I forget to close the file before I yank out memory stick out. Seriously, there was NO way you could tell me that the batteries in the keyboard were dying and THAT'S why it was skipping ever other letter typed?

Really?

I spent 3 days thinking that I was drunk and didn't know it because I could not type a single damn sentence without correcting every damn word 3 times.

Uncool Computer, very uncool.

Don't play stupid with me.  You and I both know there's more going on inside your black and gray case than a series of if/then statements.  Stop jacking with me and I'll stop having 9 browsers open at one time and ease up your usage.  I'll even make sure you start getting turned off once a week for at least overnight.  I understand, we all need our rest.  We cool?

Sincerely,

Cecelia



Alright.  I'm going to hold onto this post as proof that I can have a civil conversation with those who piss me off.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a nap.  As you might have guessed it's been an eventful 24 hours.