Hello? Anybody There?

If you are still out there, then I am a: shocked, and b: grateful.  I’ve been gone a long time, but I needed to be gone for a long time. Sometimes those pesky little dark night’s of the soul pop up when least expected, and if you ignore them they get worse. Guess what I tried to do? If you said “ignore it,” you are very correct. And then it got worse, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. So I took a break from a lot of things: from reading, from writing, from blogging, from looking for a job, from beating myself up about it.  And I started spending a lot of time in prayer, and with my family and friends. I took a lot of time to focus on what matters and who matters, and tried to cut out the excess.

I love literature because it puts us face to face with truth, with reality, with the whole of humanity. But sometimes that hurts, and sometimes I need to look away. I’ve only really read the Bible and a few old favorites that are always good for my soul (Anne Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts, Shauna Niequist’s Bittersweet, Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies, Dr. Zhivago, A Wrinkle in Time, bits and pieces of The Chronicles of Narnia, and lots of Denise Levertov, Rumi, Rilke, Dickenson, and Frost.) That puts me hopelessly behind in my quest to read 104 books this year, but I just realized that some things are more important than reading, or even writing. I know most writers would balk at that statement. I’ve been admonished time and again that “We write because we must! Because it is our charge, our purpose, our calling! We write when it is painful because that is what it means to be a writer!” And sometimes we rest, because we are human, even those of us with calloused and ink stained fingers.

But there is a time and a season for everything. And this is the time and the season to crawl back into the light. Hello blog! I’ve missed you!Hello books on my bookshelf! You are dusty and beautiful, and I can’t wait for the adventures we are going to have! Hello pen and journal! I have so much to tell you! Hello story I was working on! I have so many ideas for your future! Hello great wide world! I am different now, but I think I’m better, and I’m ready to rejoin your dance!

I know I’m going to have to work pretty hard to build back up my readership, but it was worth it. I have started reading a thing or two in the past few weeks, so hopefully come Monday I’ll have a new review up. And since I have nothing else worth while to say to you right now, here is a brief photo update of the last two months of my life: (Warning, if you follow me on any social media, this is going to be a lot of repeats for you and thus probably a little boring. So sorry!)

Remember my favorite baby Josiah? I cuddled him a whole bunch.

I spent a lot of time at the beach…

…and I spent it with my best friend.

I got some good advice from a fortune cookie, and from some friends, though I didn’t take their pictures.

I took many gratuitous photos of Cambria, who did not mind.

We ran a 5K obstacle course challenge. Or rather, Tyler and a few of our faster friends ran, and I walk/ran it with a few of our less ambitious friends.

Tyler went to NYC for business, and I had to stay home. But I started this book, and he brought me back this huge mug, so it was okay.

And while he was gone I got to spend my afternoons with this adorable puppy, so that made it okay too.

Cambria found a new hiding/sleeping spot in the bathroom.

We celebrated friend’s birthdays, and Tyler got even more handsome, which I did not realize was possible. Look at that jaw line. Mmmhmm.

A friend found a left-over turkey in his freezer, so we all got together and had a feast. All I can say is the world needs more holidays with turkey, and also look at that amazing view!

We bought Cambria her very own castle, and now she insists we call her “Queen Cambria.” It’s mostly an honorary title since she makes no laws and really just sleeps up there like normal non-royal cats.

We went to our very first Polo match!

At the Polo match we dressed all fancy and drank champagne and pretended to be rich. We are not in actuality rich, but we did look fairly dapper.

I made the Queen cuddle with me a lot, because even Queens need love.

(Not pictured: I also ate a lot of ice cream, called my mom and/or dad almost every day, and spent a lot of time snuggled up with my man watching Dr. Who. It was, all-in-all a good respite for my soul.)

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Happy Birthday, Cambria!

This is the story of Cambria.

Three years ago today I was a brokenhearted woman mourning a kitten and a baby, both gone too soon. And three years ago today I met my new kitty. An adorable, though timid year-old Siamese cat, Cambria had been abandoned as a kitten and caught in a trap meant for a raccoon. Saved from being put-down by a local rescue, she was healthy, but terrified of everything and everyone. The women at the rescue said she needed to go to a home with no other pets and lots of love, and I told them that we fit the bill perfectly. My mother’s heart needed someone to take care of. In the car, she sat in the farthest corner of her carrier and her whole body shook with fright, but she looked at me intently, her eyes never leaving my face.

When I let her out at home, she hid under the couch for almost five days. She’d come out at night to eat and drink, but that was all. Slowly, she started to explore other corners of the house, when no one else was there, of course. And then, one night I woke up with something furry and warm cuddled by my side. Cambria was home.

It didn’t happen all at once, but Cambria slowly became the cat she was meant to be: smart, playful, loving, always ready with a purr, a snuggle, and a kiss. And I, overtime, became myself again too. It’s like our little family was meant to be.

So Happy Fourth Birthday, Cambria Kitty. I’m really glad you are mine!

I’ve Been a Bad Blogger

It’s true. But now I’m back! Allow me to reintroduce myself. Hi. I’m Amanda. This is my blog. I read stuff and write about it, or at least I’m supposed to. Or at least, I’m going to again.

You know what I’ve discovered? Writing a blog is a lot like going to the gym. You know how it is. You sign up for your gym membership with much enthusiasm, and you find a good routine. You may settle into this routine for months, maybe even a year. But then, one day, you make an excuse.

“This sore throat is just really bad, so I think I’ll stay home and get healthy.”

“I know my spinning class is tonight, but that coworker I’ve only talked to four times is having her birthday party at my favorite sushi restaurant, so I’ll just go to the Thursday class instead.”

“I don’t know anyone in the Thursday class, and it feels so awkward.”

“This Wii fitness is totally the same thing, and it’s in my living room where there are no skinny women to make me feel chubby.”

And then- voila!- it’s been four months and when you go back they’ve given your locker to someone else, and you don’t know any of the trainers anymore, and you huff and puff through all ten minutes on the treadmill that you can muster before passing out in the shower with a power bar and a Gatorade, totally exhausted.

Not that I speak from experience or anything.

Blogging is like that. For me, my gateway excuse was these people:

My family! Aren’t they just the cutest? I spent 12 whole days with them in my favorite of all places- Ohio! It was pretty chill and included a lot of time to relax, which had me dreaming of the eight books I was going to read and the multitude of amazing blogs I was going to write…and then, I went comatose. I went into a vacation, my-mom-is-taking-care-of-me-and-I-don’t-have-to-cook-or-clean coma. It was pitiful.

Then I came home. I tried to write a few blogs, but they were, to put it nicely, pure drivel. And then the excuse-a-thon began. I thought about blogging. I’d fall asleep at night composing tomorrows blog that was going to be my great comeback. And then tomorrow would come, and I’d just read instead, because I was tired, or my instant gratification bug would kick in and I’d watch TV instead.

But I’m back on the bandwagon now, and I may be a little flabby and out of practice, but dude, I have missed this blog! And I’ve missed my blog friends! And man-oh-man do I have a ridiculous amount of books to review!

These are the books that I’ve read:

Plus three e-books: Real Marriage by Mark& Grace Driscoll, Pulphead: Essays by John Jeremiah Sullivan, and An Unquenchable Thirst by Mary Johnson.

And these are the books that I’ve started, but for various reasons haven’t finished yet:

That top one is The Story of Charlotte's Web, for those of you who aren't magic and can't read pure light. Sorry about that. There's a window right behind my desk.

I’ll start reviewing all the ones I’ve read so far tomorrow. Promise.

For those of you keeping score, I’m a teeny bit behind where I should be. To be honest, I’ve been a little lazy on the reading front the last few weeks, so I’m trying to finish five books this week. And if I don’t stop blogging right now, I probably won’t get today’s books finished and get my dishes done. And if you saw my kitchen after a three-day weekend, you’d know just how dire this situation is. Speaking of which, I will not show you my icky kitchen, but I will show you the book of the day:

But more on that tomorrow.

PS: One last thing. A certain little someone has missed you too, and she wanted me to let you know.

Dear Mai Friens, Ai know you've missed me a whole bunches. Ai missed you too, when Ai wasn't sweeping or eating the tuna fishes. But never fears! Caturday draws nigh! Lub, Cambria

“Wanted: Crazy Cat Lady to Read Crazy Cat Books.”

If I found that description in the want ads, my job hunt would be over. I guess I’ll have to settle for being a self-employed crazy cat lady right now, though, since there doesn’t seem to be a need for one in most industries at the moment. How puzzling.

I tried to deny my love of animal books for a long time. Then, this summer, I read Thomas French’s Zoo Story, and my fate was sealed. But I still tried to avoid cat books for awhile, to try to avoid the obvious cat lady stigma. Then I realized that I own cat print dish towels and oven mits, and I gave up.

Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World, by Vicki Myron, drew my attention for a few reasons:

1: It’s about a super cute, fluffy orange cat.
2: He’s a library cat. Love it! I don’t know how book stores and libraries came to be havens for furry little kitties, but I am a fan. Two of my favorite things in one place, how ever am I supposed to resist? Someday, when I own my Lovely Little Book Store, it will totally have a cat. Preferably a Hemingway six-toed cat.
3: This particular feline literati lived in Iowa, for which I have a particular soft spot. I’ve mentioned before my love for my home state, Ohio. But I also adore Missouri, and Iowa, the states my mom and dad are from respectively. I’ve spent Christmases, Thanksgivings, vacations, family reunions, and countless other weeks among the corn fields of Iowa, and I love it there. When Vicki writes about Des Moines, Sioux City, and Lake Okoboji, I’ve been there. I may not have grown up on a farm or in a small town (at least not most of my life), but these are my people. My parents are those hard-working, small-town Midwesterners, and reading Vicki’s straight forward prose felt a little like going home. I may live in a beautiful California city by the beach now, but I’ll always be a Midwestern girl at heart.

“Let them have the oceans and mountains, their beaches and their ski resorts. I’ll take Iowa.”

Amen.

There are few books that I read that I don’t have any criticism for, but this is one of those books. I fell in love with Dewey from the first moment the librarians pulled his tiny, frostbitten body from the after-hours drop box. I loved the pictures of Dewey stuffed into so many too-small boxes, and the stories of how he changed peoples lives, especially his friendship with Crystal, a disabled girl who could neither move nor speak. And I didn’t just cry, I sobbed as his story came to a close. He was loving, and even lively, to the end, and when I finished the book, I was sorry there were no more antics, no more pictures, no more stories.

Sure, your English professor is not going to assign this book in your Great American Novels class, but if you like cats, you’re going to enjoy this book.

Perhaps this makes me sound ridiculous, but I connected so deeply with Dewey’s story, with what he did for the struggling town of Spenser, and for Vicki as she struggled too.

We got our Cambria during a time of unparalleled grief in my life. She was a six pound, one year-old, full bred Siamese who was terrified of the world after having been dumped, probably by an amateur breeder (her tail is too short, and she’s surprisingly stocky for her breed, so she’s not good for breeding or showing), and then snared by a trap originally set out for raccoons. For the first week she did nothing but hide under furniture, but having a scardy cat to love and care for that desperately needed me literally pulled me back from the brink. (I’m convinced, and so were the rescue workers who saved her, that we saved Cambria’s life as well. She went from shaking uncontrollably whenever a human entered the room and eating just enough to survive to being an irascible bundle of energy and affection who loves to play, snuggle, and eat as much human food as she can sneak away. Love did that for us both.)

I’m now 100% a believer in animal therapy. Depressed? Lonely? Get a pet, or at least pick up a book such as this one. It will not make all your issues vaporize, but the love of an animal can definitely place you back among the land of the living. It worked for Dewey and Cambria; it also worked for Vicki and the people of Spencer, Iowa, and it worked for me.

Expecto Patronum! And Other Animal Facts.

  Here is a free fact for you: I am an animal lover. I get way more excited about going to the zoo than any child, and I may or may not own ridiculous animal things like a pitcher shaped like a rooster, and a welcome sign that’s a cat. I know, how will you ever stand to bask in the light of my awesomeness, right? Now that you know just how cool I am…

1. Elephants are my favorite animal, with pandas running in a close second.
2. Snakes are my least favorite, and by least I mean I have a horrible, very real phobia of them. They give me nightmares, and I have a panic attack upon sight of them. But there is growth! I can now watch them on TV with only minimal crying involved.
3. If I were a wizard al la Harry Potter, I would want my patronus to be something fierce, like a tiger, but, if we’re being honest, it’d be a regular cat. And if we’re being super honest, it’d probably look like this:

(I’m so sorry for my absence! I’ve been sick and blah blah blah. During my illness, I’ve read five books, so I’ll return after Turkey Day with reviews, insights, and side-splitting hilarity. Until then, I am thankful for all of you, my friends! Happy Thanksgiving!)

Everyday Is Caturday If You Want It Badly Enough

DA-nuh...

DA-nuh...

DA-nuh, DA-nuh...

DA-nuh...

It's not a shark, it's a poorly taken cat picture! And it's in honor of...

the return of Caturday!

Yay!

*Crickets*

Okay, so maybe it’s just me and Cambria who are excited. We got so excited that she took a nap on the keyboard:

and I ate a brownie in my pyjamas:

But that may have more to do with my love for chocolate than it does about Caturday.

But you don’t want to see pictures of me looking maniacal moments before devouring chocolatey goodness, you want to see my furry goober doing goober-ish things such as…

playing scrabble...

and biting people's toes in the morning...

and playing in her play house...

and "helping" me blog.

And that’s  what the goob has been up to. Well, that and trying to jump out of our 7th story apartment window. I was far to horrified/pumped full of adrenaline to take a picture of that occurence, however. But that’s a story for another time.

Happy SaturdayCaturday!

Books, Cats, and Crazy, Vol. 2

Books

Hook is one of my all-time favorite movies, as is Finding Neverland, because they deepen the story of one of my favorite childhood books, Peter Pan.

A good literary memoir makes me giddy. Why Laura Miller! You love Narnia too? Of course I will buy the full-price hard-baked edition of your memoir The Magician’s Book! Even memoirs about books that were not necessarily my favorites (like Wendy McClure’s The Wilder Life about the Little House on the Prairie series), or  about books I’ve never read at all (I’ve never touched Sophie’s Choice, but I have every intention checking out Reading My Father by Alexandra Styron) make my heart all aflutter.

And I believe I have professed before that Alice in Wonderland is one of my enduring favorites, yes? I love Alice, and all things Alice. Alice I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin is one of my favorite books I’ve read this year. Another Alice-themed book I recently picked up is ArchEnemy, the last book in Frank Beddor’s trilogy, The Looking Glass Wars. When my friend loaned me the first book in this series, I was instantly thrilled. A book that played out the presupposition that Wonderland was real? Yes, please! But it wasn’t in any of the ways you would think. Alice is really Princess Alyss Heart, and her mother is the queen of Wonderland, the White Queen. The character we know as the Red Queen was really Alyss’s evil Aunt Redd who would stop at nothing to take the throne from her sister. Here, looking Glasses are of utmost importance because they are a means of transportation, and the Mad Hatter is not a crazy man, he’s Hatter Madigan, a talented, deadly, and loyal guard to the queen. The wonders and parallels go on and on, and I was completely sucked in. It was like a literary dream come true, a chance for me to continue and expand my love of the Wonderland Universe.

What about you? I know that there have been expansions on other classics, most notably the 9,430 spin offs of Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, but if you could snap your fingers and have the continuation or new take on any of your favorite classics at your fingertips, what would it be? Have you found any classic-inspired books, like Beddor’s trilogy, or literary memoirs that are truly phenomenal?

Cats

Just a little update to let you all know that Queen Cambria is fine. Crisis averted, thankfully. (Although I did have a crisis trying to get Cambria actually into the crate. Apparently she’s still mad about the day and a half she had to spend in it while we moved, because the little nerdface tried to bite me!) Her sneezes have all but stopped now, and the vet is fairly certain it was just allergies. She certainly hasn’t changed at all. She’s just as cute and entitled as ever.

"Oh. Am Ai in de ways? Where you using dis?"

Crazy

There are three things loaded in the crazy chute right now. I’ll try to fire them gently.

1. I am completely convinced that the mirrors in the Target fitting rooms are slightly concave to make one look chubbier than one looks anywhere else in the world.  Seriously, Target, I know I have a little extra to love, but I still have a figure. Only in your dressing rooms do I look like a cupcake wearing glasses.
   

   The fattest mirror in America. And a cute dress I tried on. Ironically, I do not look so much like a cupcake when I step back far enough to take a picture. Tricky, Target. Tricky.

2.  I should never be allowed to feel clever more than once a day because when I do I start to feel brazen, and when I get brazen I do things like get my self lost. Or more appropriate to this situation, I do things like know exactly where I am but not know how to get to where I need to be because of all the one-way roads that do not alternate like one would assume. Anyway, all of this is to say that yesterday, while I was driving all over creation trying to find groceries and then my parking garage, I realized that I have a new fear: I’m terrified of ending up in Tijuana if I drive south by myself. I’m not good with directions. (I once left Charlotte, NC, heading towards Greenville, SC, and wound up in Columbia, SC instead…a whole two hours southeast of Greenville. I still don’t know how it happened. )
   

   Exhibit A: Getting lost driving to my home from a place I'd been to before.

   I’m afraid I’ll miss my exit. What would happen? Could I get back in with just my license? Would I need a passport? (Note to self: Google this.) What if my phone dies and I can’t call Tyler? I couldn’t call him from a payphone because I don’t have his number memorized. Should I write it down on a piece of paper and stick it in my walled just in case? All I know is that I envision myself being stuck in a border patrol check point being interrogated for hours because they don’t believe any housewife could be this dumb. “What do you mean you didn’t know you were in Mexico? Didn’t the fence and the big sign give you a hint? What do you mean you can’t call your husband because the only number you know is your mom’s? How old are you again?” It’s okay though, because this has any easy solution: I’m never going to drive south of downtown alone. I’ll take Tyler with me, since clearly he’s the voice of reason in this marriage. Ans this way if we do get stuck in Tijuana I won’t have to worry about knowing his number, I can just have a melt down right there and let him figure it out.

3. I’ve still been thinking about the hipster issue, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not a hipster, but I am. It goes like this: if being a hipster is about being undefinable, unexpected and edgy, wouldn’t the most hipster thing you could do be to be the anti-hipster? Since I apparently resemble a hipster more than not, and intentional hippsterality isn’t actually as purely hipster as the on-purpose hipsters seem to thing it is, then I fall on the side of a non-hipster. Which means that if you’re not a hipster, you are, and if you are a hipster, you’re not, which makes you a hipster again. So no one is a hipster, but we all are, making hipsters completely irrelevant. Ta-da! My philosophy professor would be so proud. Or confused.

And so there you have it. Target says I’m a cupcake, and to make matters worse I only know my mom’s number, so if I get lost I’m in big trouble a: because my mom’s in Ohio, and b: because no one wants to help a crying hipster cupcake; my cat doesn’t sneeze anymore but she does sit on whatever I’m trying to use at the moment; and you, dear friends, if you have stuck with me this long, should not forget to tell me about your favorite classics-inspired books and literary memoirs so I can read them.

In Which Cambria Gives Me the Silent Treatment, and Probably Sneezes on Our Vet.

Cambria, we had a nice little nap, now I really need you to get up. I have stuff to do.

"But maaam, Ai's sleepy!"

Seriously, Cambria! Please get off my jewelry box. I need to get ready!

"But maam! Dis texture is pleasing to me."

Cat. Move. I need to get directions off my e-mail.

" But maam, dis mouse is comfy and de computer is warm. Ai stays."

 Stop stalling. This isn’t second nap time. I’m trying to put on my shoes!

"But Ai'm soooooo sleepys, mam. Just four more minutes."

Cambria, I know you’re unhappy about it, but we really do have to  go.

Fine. Den Ai will just sits in dis window and ignore yous!

I’ve been getting the silent treatment all morning. Cambria has a case of the sneezes so we are off to the vet  today, which does not make her happy. The vet means a: the cage, b: the car, and possibly c: medicine, three of her very least favorite things. We’re hoping the sneezes are  just an allergy that she’s developed in our new city and nothing worse. Cambria is a strong little kitty, and she acting normal (except for, of course, the sneezes), so we’re not too worried, but your prayers would be appreciated anyway!

Also, lets hope she doesn’t actually sneeze on anyone this time. She has had the sneezes once before, when she had a mild upper resperatory infection, and she sneezed on the vet. In his mouth. Twice. Yeah, I’d rather not repeat that episode.

"You can makes me sit in heres, but you can't makes me like it!"

Return of the Blogger

Aaaaaaaaaand, I’m back! Good grief, has it really been a week? Please accept my sincerest apologies for my long absence; it won’t happen again. Or at least it won’t happen again until someday when Tyler takes me on a Caribbean cruise or some other such wonderfulness. The Week of Moving Madness was just that: a week of madness. This is the list of what I did over the last week:

1. Pack up a flobbity-jillion boxes.
   

   The moving truck, before and after.

2. Put said boxes into a moving truck.
3. Follow behind my husband driving said truck in our car.
4. Wait on the side of the road for the mechanic to come and look at the moving truck to determine why it wouldn’t move.
5. Ask the mechanic if he could jump off my car while he was at it, since the battery was dead.
6. Spend the night in a hotel after driving for eight hours to get to a place we should have gotten to in three and a half.
7. Finally get to  the new apartment a mere 24 hours after we left Bakersfield.
8. Unpack the moving truck and drag all out stuff up to the seventh floor. For five hours. Yipee!
9. Discover that our car is dead…again. Wait for AAA to come and replace our battery.
10. Unpack all those boxes that are now in our new, shiny home.
11. Try to remember to eat at least twice a day.
12. Try to remember to sleep a little bit.
13. Steal moments to read when I’m “going to the bathroom.” *wink*

What did you do this week? Whatever it was, it was probably 29 times more exciting than what I did, but it was all worth it in the end. Hencefourth, I get to wake up to this every morning:

Now that we are here, I’ve been very busy. I have been…

1. Not getting up before 8:30 am. Rough.
2. Setting up house. My first order of business was setting up a reading corner, though the kitchen and bathroom are pretty much squared away, and the closet shall join them shortly.
3. Looking out the window a lot. I’m still in awe of our cityscape.
4. Reading. I started this lovely little book today:
   

   The Secret Lives of Wives by Iris Krasnow

   It is really interesting so far. Some of these women say having a man on the side has helped the, some say illness is what made them strong, and some say their arranged marriage is the best thing that ever happened to them. I’m not necessarily advocating for any of that, but I am fascinated.  Being married long enough to be passed the newlywed stage but not long enough to be considered a pro by any means, I’m really interested to delve into this topic. So far, if someone asked me the secret to our happiness these past four years, I’d say a strong underlying friendship, our shared commitment to our faith and core values, and honest communication. At the end of the day, no matter what has happened, that man is still the best friend I have in the world, which gives me something to fight for, no matter what. But in another four years, or eight, or twelve, who knows what I’ll say?  What about you? Man or woman, what would you say the key to longevity is? How do you keep a happy marriage? For that matter,  how do you keep any long-term relationship going?

5. Taking an obscene amount of Cambria pictures:
   

   Sorry about missing Caturday! This little quartet pretty much sums up what she's been up to, though- sleeping and chilling out in odd places.

6. Cooking dinner and other domestic type things.
7. And tomorrow I will begin hunting for the perfect wall color. I’m thinking a nice, bright yellow.

Like I said, life is really tough right now. Another endeavor I plan to undertake soon: find every bookstore I can reasonably walk to/take the trolley to in San Diego. There are two just on the street I live on alone! But right now I’m going to sleep for the next ten hours. But I promise not to abandon you! I will surely be back tomorrow, my friends, granted I can pencil you into my demanding schedule.

Caturday 10.8.11: Brought to You By the Letters B, S, and E

Cambria heres. Guess what today is, guys…It’s Caturday! And mom lemme post all by maiselfs!

Dis Caturday is brought to you by de letter “B,” as in de word “Bored”…

As in, Cambria is
bored.

Bored, bored, bored.

Da humans are busy and tired, and dey filled mai cat fort wif books. Ai got trapped in a corner yesterdays, and now Ai’m not alloweds in da closet. And it’s cold outsides, which makes it cold insides. And Ai hates cold. It’s a terruble, horruble, no goods, very bad day!

Toady is also brough to you by de letter “S,” for de word “Solution”…

As in, Ai discovered a solution for mai boredom. Ai builts a castle! Acshully, the humans made de castle, Ai just conquered it.

Ai am Cambria kitteh. Oh, marvelous me! And Ai am de Queen of all dat Ai see!

Yertle de Turtle ain't got nothin on me!

Bring me some tunas, minion!...,uh, Ai mean, mom.

And lastly, Caturday is brought to you dis week by de letter “E,” for de word “Excited…”

As in, get excited! Dis time next week, Ai’ll be a Big City kitteh, and a downtown loft kitteh, and de Queen of a whole new place. Yays!

Hear dat, boxes?!! We're goin to San Diegos!

(A note from the humans: we’re in SD right now picking out Cambria’s new queendom! I’ll try to keep you updated on our progress as The Week of Moving Madness descends upon us. Also, I had to publish this from my phone because I’m too cheap to pay for hotel Internet. So if there are any iPhone quirks, I apologize.)