The Octarine Plum

fakescience:

It all makes sense now!

Now, this story can be considered slightly disgusting.  I guess.

Last Halloween, we bought a pumpkin.  Just because, tradition, you know?  So, that pumpkin sat on the front porch for months.  And months.  Until it was squishy on the bottom and everywhere else.  That was when we just figuratively said “screw this” and threw the rotting pumpkin carcass down onto our landscaping.  It sat there the whole winter and hasn’t been moved.

I’m not sure what this says about my family.

The last time I remember seeing it, it was completely white.  This was probably after winter, btw.

Anyway, the only reason I’m mentioning this now is because on the spot where the pumpkin once sat, there is now a plant.  A thriving one.  That my entire family somehow didn’t notice until now.

I looked up pictures online.  It’s definitely a pumpkin plant.

This is so awesome.

Last night, I dreamed I was petting cats.  I woke up slowly caressing the giant stuffed animal I have on my bed.  I have such interesting dreams, am i rite?

Today, I went bowling with a couple of friends (Exciting stuff, I know.).  Which was pretty awesome, since none of us can bowl.  After begging the lady there for bumpers (“You’re too old for bumpers.”), we did end up getting them set up, which resulted in several epic strikes from bouncing off of them.  It was massive funtimes.

Anyway, somehow, this blog came up in conversation (I am still astounded that some people read this, even if they are my closest-ish friends.  I apologize for the awkwardness of that last part.), especially how out of the few posts I have, two were about my cat.  I defended myself with “I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE ABOUT D:” and it was suggested that I write about a certain hat.  This following part of this post will be about said hat.

I suppose I should first describe it.  It is a beige colored hat, shaped like a bowl but with a brim (I cannot stress that enough.) and a blue colored ribbon-y thing around it.  Also, a bow. 

(He is our hardboiled detective.  No, I cannot explain that.)

While our group can certainly be very random, hat suggestions did not come out of the blue.  One of my friends decided to bring the hat along to our bowling excursion (I’m still not sure why, but it was still a great decision.).  Somewhere along the line, it was decided that the hat gave great bowling privileges and had to be worn when bowling.  Therefore, each one of us ended up wearing the hat at some point, not to mention being tossed onto heads as well as general tossing around.  I hope none of us had lice.  I know I didn’t and I never have, nor I never will because if I do, the entire fabric of reality will be sucked in a sudo-black hole and implode.  I’m not sure why.  I’m sure it’ll happen, though.

In any case, the hat does have some backstory.  Hmm.  I dislike just continuing calling the hat “the hat” or “it.”  Let’s name it Charles.  Not Charlie.  Charles.

So, one day, my family and I were milling around in a mall, when I set eyes upon the Hat Section.  My heart rose and I had a sudden, inexplicable need to have a hat.  I set upon them, trying numerous, countless, thousands (!) of hats on while my parents looked on with that expression exclusive to parents who think their child is slightly insane.  In any case, I settled upon Charles.

For a while, things seemed great for Charles and me.  We got along fine and were happy with each other.  However, as time passed, it became clear that the something special between Charles and me disappeared, as months went by and I never got a chance (or wanted to) wear him/it.  At that point, it seemed that Charles was doomed to spend the rest of his sad existence in a closet with all the other abandoned hats.

And then whoosh (insert appropriate hand/arm gesture), it was someone’s birthday!  I will not specify who! (other than the fact that it was a guy)  Slowly, a friend and I hatched a plan to present birthday friend with two hats, one normal, guy hat and one that is embarrassingly girly.  Unfortunately, normal guy hat never did appear, but birthday friend did receive Charles.  He didn’t seem very happy.  In fact, he tried to give Charles back, with no regard to the hat’s feelings.  Charles spent an eventful day in school, being traded and worn several times, eventually ending up in bowling friend’s (who brought Charles) hands. 

Charles has been to many places (and on many heads.).

I think Charles has lead a very fruitful and interesting life.  I hope he thinks so, too.

Recently, I started volunteering at a local SPCA.  This center just has cats, hundreds upon thousands of cats.  That totally wasn’t an exaggeration.  (Was that sarcastic or not?  You’ll never know.)

You see, Tao Tao is my first ever cat and therefore all my cat expectations are linked to his… questionable actions.  So, I think love maulings are completely normal and are to be expected in a cat-human relationship. 

Well, I suppose the first thing you would notice at the SPCA would be the smell.  Well, first, you’d notice the cats because CATS, but that’s before you open the door.  Then, you are assaulted by various catty smells.  Interpret that as you wish.

I guess I should address the title of this post now.  You see, I had never realized the magnitude of my cat’s hugeness.  Tao Tao is… shall we say, “big boned” as well as long furred and just pretty gosh darned big in the first place.  The only way to properly hold this fine specimen of an animal is to position him as you would a baby.   It’s impossible to hold him comfortably in any other way.  He’s just too friggin’ huge.  …  I just measured.  He’s at least three feet long, which isn’t huge, but…  BIG.

In any case, I can gush on about these cats for ages.  Of course, there are a few rather unsocial cats that shun human presence, but there is some true adorableness.  (However, they are not adorwable worthy.)  Being in that room is like being suffocated in your sleep by the giant pillow of superfluous cuteness.  Kawaii-ness, if you would like it.

And guess what?  Who knew?  Cats actually like sitting on people’s laps!  I never knew!  (This is somewhat serious.  I thought lap sitting was a myth.)

Also, I actually did work.  I didn’t just go and play with cats and count it all as community service.  Which would totally be awesome, but sadly, life works in such a way that servicing to the every whim of a cat does not count as an actual job.  I mean, can you imagine?  We’d solve the unemployment crisis in a matter of days.  No one, I mean no one, can ever turn down the prospects of cat petting and other such businesses.  Not even if you are allergic.  Which I am.  So there.