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UPDATE Invisible Fences, Make Good Neighbors

Just when I thought all my kitty problems were gone…I got another knock on my door…with more cat shenanigans.

Guess who? Yep!!

That Crazy Fucking Cat Lady and her subordinate husband.

Knock, Knock…Guess WHO?! MEOW!

My first thought, Crazy Cat Lady, must have gotten my CAT-VICTIM package. She is coming over to say thank -you, how sweet. Hopefully she left the cat hair at home this time.

I open the door…

“Hi there, just wanted to come by and thank you for the gift. I thought it was really sweet and kitty loves the toys you gave her! Look, Look at this picture of her playing with the cat-nip Squirrel!!

O, and by the way… buying an invisible fence…you didn’t have to do that!! That was above and beyond”

Thank God kitty likes the toys-Crazy Cat Lady taking that picture made her day and will smooth this whole thing over. Phew, looks like we are clear of this one!

“No problem, it was the least we could do! How’s miss kitty doing anyway?”

She started to tear up which made me want to laugh. Partly because her face wrinkles up like Claire Dane’s in Homeland when she cries.

My Cat! My Cat…BOO HOO BOO HOO

“She is good-we actually brought her to the vet. She got an X-Ray and a full emergency exam. Vet sees nothing wrong. The thing that really killed me...is when the vet found the teeth marks. She said it was definitely from a dog, so even though we didn’t see your dog attack, it was most likely him.”

Wait a fucking second…there were no witnesses to this?! I have spent all day watching my dogs get shocked by their new invisible fence because you THINK my dog was guilty?! I started to get angry and wanted her to finish up tear-fest 2013 so she would leave my porch.

“Well, like I said, we feel really bad and the fence will make sure this never happens again. Thanks for stopping by!”

Her husband’s voice shakes as he says, “Um, well we actually wanted to talk to you about the vet bill”

I spin around and my inner voice speaks loud…THESE PEOPLE HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

“We know your an animal lover and all. We know you would understand this whole situation. We feel it’s fair to split the bill with us and half the bill would be $315.00”

They just showed up tonight to ask for money…Bitches. And what kind of vet did they take this cat to?! Did they fly in a cat-dog attack specialist for the vet exam?

“Ok….” I was at a lost for words. My inner voice kicks in again…Just be honest about this.

“Sure we will definitely pay for half of the bill…”

Ah, shit it’s happening. My inability to be confrontational face to face with people older than me. Stop being such a pussy, just tell the lady to take that bill and the cat hair and shove it up her ass.

“…I think it’s totally appropriate we help to pay the bill as well…”

Are you kidding me? Stop right now, tell her shes a greedy ass that is taking advantage of a young couple.

“…You were so right to come over and ask us to help on this, it’s the right thing to do…I’ll drop the check off in your mailbox. Have a great night, glad we could move past this!”

UGH, your so hopeless, I give up, come talk to me again when you grow some balls

Sometimes you just gotta listen

I walk inside, ashamed of my cowardliness and spot Levi, looking right at me.

“You know Levi, if you finished the job-we wouldn’t be paying a vet bill right now…better work on those skills in case that cat decides to come within your invisible fence barrier”

So here I am, writing yet another letter along with a very, expensive check.

Dear Kerri (Yes, I found out her stupid name and it ends with an I. I don’t trust people who names end in I)

Again, I’m glad your cat is OK (But now not really).

In this envelope is the check for $315 (Half of the extremely expensive medical bill for your bald cat, which I hope by the way, stays bald) Hope we can move past this (we wont, I think you people are a waste of space and I will never lend you any cups of sugar or eggs…fuck you)

Sincerely,

Your neighbors (who now hate your guts and hope your cat gets eaten by a wild animal or drowns in the Holy Lake)

Invisible Fences Make PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE neighbors

Tags: American, Blog, cat lady, crazy cat lady, Funny, Girl, Gossip, health, home owner, Humor, Joba, lake community, Laugh, Levi, Life, Love, love thy neighbor, neighbors, new home, Old Parents, Parents, Personal, Ryan, Thoughts, Women

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Uncategorized
Author rynolexson

Invisible Fences, Make Good Neighbors

6 Jun

Typically Life Situation for That Girl Ryan…

When I signed those mortgage papers on my first home this year, I was ecstatic! Goodbye annoying apartment renters, goodbye lazy landlords and HELLO freedom!

Freedom of doing what I want because I’m a mother fucking home owner and don’t have to listen to anymore apartment management bullshit rules. (Can you tell I have resentment?)

Our House

Boy Ryan and I have always been THOSE neighbors, “the problem renters”

Just to clue you in, here are some rules we have violated;

Noise violation (after 11pm on a Saturday night)

Failure to weed our outdoor patio (never knew this existed)

Failure to pick up after our dog (who by the way shits at least 4 times a day. Its impossible to keep up)

This is the actual Weeding Patio violation

Ok, Ok, so we haven’t been the best renters, but I thought our renter problems would disappear after buying a home…but they don’t. You still have to put up with these people called neighbors; and neighbors tend not to relocate after a year of residence…they last a lot longer.

We moved into a lake community, let’s re-phrase…a “clicky” lake community. To join this lake in our neighborhood it’s a $1000/year. In my opinion, paying $1000 to swim in a dirty lake for 3 months out of the year is a bit expensive…call me crazy but I just wasn’t feeling it. However, what I failed to recognize is that ALL the neighbors in our community are part of the lake and get offended when you don’t join.

So when we didn’t join, I got the vibe that we were being shunned. Whatever, Shun the non-believer, it doesn’t bother me. Plus we invested in a baby pool this summer so that Addison wouldn’t feel under privileged. We actually have her convinced that the baby pool with clean water is much better than a lake with dirty water.

The Holy Lake

Here’s us, minding our own business…mowing our lawn, taking out our trash, waving to each neighbor like were riding on a god-damn parade float every morning… illustrating positive neighborly behavior.

And just when we started to think that we REALLY are good neighbors, LEVI, our newest family addition, decided to become a serial cat killer.

Adopting Levi was way too easy. He loves to cuddle, allows Addison to dress him up like a doll and listens! Yes, he listens really well! I thought it was a little too perfect from the beginning…There’s gotta be something wrong with him.

I found out this flaw the hard way as he shredded into a squirrel and attempted to Gator-Spin my parent’s cat, twice. And there it was…his flaw…he is not a cat enthusiast.

Such a Doll

So long story short, Levi escapes one day without me noticing (probably taking direction from Joba, who is very capable of escaping on purpose) and attacks the neighbor’s furry friend. This entire escape was unbeknownst to me until a few hours later when I heard a knock at my door. I look and find my neighbors from across the street standing there.

O, how nice, they came to introduce themselves and bring muffins! What sweethearts.…I opened the door.

The woman is in tears, shaking and clutching clumps of what I realized was fur. Her husband stood next to her, red in the face, clearly embarrassed by his sobbing wife…

“Your dog, attacked my cat! Look!” She pulled both hands up near my face to show me the cat fur. “YOUR dog pulled clumps of fur from her and drew blood! She won’t even come out from under the couch and is limping!”

I glanced at Levi who was happily wagging his tail, excited to greet the new guests standing at the door.

“O um, wow I’m so sorry, is the cat ok?”

“NO! look at all this fur!”

I’m still a little perplexed as to why she brought the fur over with her to my house. Did she think I wouldn’t believe that fur has been lost in this cat-dog exchange. Plus, it was a bit rude because I had just mopped my floor and some of the cat hair strands flew into the house.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, ill pay for the bill if the cat has to go to vet. It won’t ever happen again”

“No it Won’t!” she threatened and stormed off with her husband in tow.

Dog Shame

And here we go…we have done it again! As I shut the door, I pondered…how the hell do I make this better?

Solution #1: buy an invisible fence. Good fences make Good neighbors

Solution #2: join the god-damn lake so none of the other neighbors will talk shit about us. $1000 might be worth saving our reputation as the cat killing neighbors

Solution #3: send an apology to “cat lady victim #3”

But what do I send? Wine? Wine always helps everything…but what if shes a recovering alcoholic? That could make it worse…cookies? Shit I don’t have that kind of time. I could just buy them, but that looks insincere…”Here’s some cookies from ShopRite for your cat troubles”.

No, that won’t work…but you know what will? A “CAT-VICTIM-PACKAGE”! Perfect, a peace offering for the cat lady and her bald cat.

Lets see…i’ll get some cat-nip and treats…scoop up some extra dog hair from Joba to replace the lost hair from the scuffle…throw in a few kitty-self defensive classes and top it off with dog-repellant. That should really smooth this whole hair ball over.

I gathered all the necessary items and opened the blank card to scribe a personal note.

Dear…..Shit, I don’t know my neighbor’s names!

“We are so sorry about your cat, can’t tell you how awful we feel about this whole situation. We wanted to give your cat some treats as an apology from Levi (who definitely is not sorry)

We went ahead and purchased an invisible fence to ensure this will never happen again (for the safety of your cat, we will now punish our dogs with shock collars-Your Welcome).

We wish for a fast recovery and hope your cat can feel safe in her driveway (although she is an outside cat meaning anything could eat her, but at least it won’t be our dog) Please let us know if there is anything else we can do (unless of course the cat died over night).”

-Ryan and Ryan

Your caring, loving neighbors (please don’t hate us)

I dropped it off on the doorstep during the day so I could avoid any awkward conversation..I wouldn’t even know what to say

So here we are, good neighbors mending fences by putting up invisible barriers.

We will continue to wave our hellos and flash our pearly white smiles but it will never be the same as it was before the cat incident. They will always be the crazy cat neighbors to us and we will always be the crazy cat killers to them.

Yes, this is the bliss of home-ownership.

Daily Post Prompt…Four Stars: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/06/daily-prompt-four-stars/

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/06/daily-prompt-four-stars/

Tags: American, Blog, cats, dog problems, dogs, Funny, Girl, Gossip, health, home owner, Humor, invisible fence, Joba, lake community, Laugh, Laughs, Levi, Life, Love, neighbors, Parents, Personal, Ryan, Silly, Status, Thoughts

Comments 15 Comments
Categories Life, Uncategorized
Author rynolexson

Joba & Me…My College Experience With One of Life’s Worst Dog

3 May

Throwback Thursday… Blog Style!!

I wrote this back in my college days/Pre -That Girl Ryan, about my beloved Joba. Just when I think my dog drives me nuts, I am reminded by this post just how bad he used to be…Originally Featured on www.Internqueen.com

Me and My Man

His name is Joba; Joba like the baseball player; no relation to Joba-da-hut. He cost me $40, and yes that $40 bucks changed my whole perspective on life. He was a little piece of hell with paws, wrapped in a soft coat and topped off with the cutest floppy ears I have ever seen. I fell for it, but I am here to tell you my experience so that you will not be fooled like I was.

How could you not want this fuzzy mess?

These are 9 things you need to know before you get a dog in college:

1. When you see an ad like this:

Border collie/mix puppies. $40

Call 555-990-4569

You are paying for what you get. There is a reason why puppies are meant to cost hundreds of dollars, because they are from reputable breeders, not farmers who have 13 children and live in total isolation. My vet had informed me at one of Joba’s checkups that he has been mixed with Border collie and Virginian wolf, a type of dog that is not meant to be domesticated. She also alluded to that fact that he is probably a result of heavy inbreeding. Great, welcome to The Hills Have Eyes part Dog.

2. When you run out of money and food in college your dog can not live off of Ramen Noodles like you can. They enjoy inhaling it down at the moment, but hours later, you will have a Ramen Noodle upchuck display that definitely does not add to the aesthetics of your room.

3. Dogs are addicted to chocolate. One veterinarian told me that chocolate to dogs is like heroin to humans. I witnessed this first hand when I came home to my roommate hysterically crying and yelling at my dog for eating all 30 of his Chocolate chip cookies. He then continued to tell me that my dog needed to get help and he was absolutely hopeless. That intervention would put the A&E channel to shame.

4. Professors don’t care that your dog keeps you up at night. One example is the Joba Chocolate Explosion of 2009; I remember it like it was yesterday…

ME: “The reason I cant turn in my assignment today is due to the fact I was up all night cleaning the ceiling of my bathroom because my dog ate a full chocolate bunny that I got for Easter. I could have done the assignment this morning but I spent all morning perplexed as to how he managed to get throw-up on the ceiling. So, can I have an extension?”

PROFESSOR: “Good try, NO.”

Nope that excuse doesn’t work, it’s better to stick with “my printer broke.”

5. They enjoy shoes and have expensive tastes. The one day you forget to shut your closet door, you will come home to a Prada and Vera Wang battle field. Your dog will be the only one who has survived and is still intact, but Vera and Prada will have seen better days. When this happens, do not cry on your bed for hours thinking of ways to paint over the teeth marks or try to super glue the strap back on, just let them rest in peace.

6. They never behave themselves at other people’s houses. Just when you think that your dog is having fun at your best friend’s place you receive a text that reads,” your dog crapped all over my house, including the stairs and walls. I think its time for Joba to go home.” That is a sure way to put a damper on the night.

Took him three years to put a single paw in the water…we have come a long way

7. Dogs don’t mix well with messy roommates. You never know who is responsible for what mess. Many times there might be trash all over the place and you start to wonder if the dog got into it, or your roommate decided to finally clean his room. There was one time in particular that my dog got into a box of hot chocolate mix, and being a coco addict, completely ripped the packets all over my roommate’s bed. My roommate did not notice until three days later when he went to put on the clothes he had been using as a blanket on his bed.

8. Dogs riding in a car never turns out well. Now you may get a dog that sits nicely in the front seat and stares out the window but I of course did not have that kind of luck. My dog has what is called travel anxiety and drools and farts uncontrollably in the car. Usually at the end of any kind of car excursion, I typically end up with one of two scenarios; people telling me my dog should be checked for rabies due to the foam around his mouth or a lingering rancid odor and floor full of what I call Joba’s Mixture; drool, snot and spit.

9. There are paybacks. Don’t think that I have let my dog completely get away with all of his shenanigans; I make sure he is embarrassed every now and again with making him wear a hideous sweater or a rain coat, but the best time of the year is when Halloween rolls around. What Joba doesn’t know is that the amount of doggie costumes are endless and I always pick out the most glamorous one; this year it was a turtle. Yes, I paraded him around campus in a bright green shell topped off with an adorable hat that had two bulging eyes at the top. The costume turtle shell also restricted his leg movement which forced him to pee in a squatting motion, just like a girl dog. O, the sweet revenge.

He really is starting to love this costume

So, if I haven’t scared you enough and you still are considering getting a dog in college, then this last piece will make you feel a little better. Dogs are loyal to the core; they don’t care what you wear or what you really think about that professor who assigns 7 page papers. All they want is your attention and to give you their unconditional love. At times dogs test your patience and make you look like a complete fool, but I assure you that their antics will always make you laugh and keep you on your toes. So if you’re up for the challenge of raising a dog, than good luck! Just remember to be totally prepared for anything and I mean ANYTHING.

The Best Worst Decision Ever Made.

Tags: American, Blog, College, Dog Lovers, Dog Post, Funny, Girl, Gossip, health, Humor, I Love Dogs, Joba, Laugh, Life, Love, Personal, Ryan, Thoughts, Walmart

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Categories Uncategorized
Author rynolexson

NFL Addict

15 Jan

Do you know what my favorite part of January is?!!!

My two fulfilled weeks of New Years Resolutions-NO

Tax refund time?-NO, but that is a wonderful thought.

My daughter’s birthday-NO, A close second for sure though.

Nearing the end of football season? Yes, thank fucking god, yes.

I didn’t mind football in the beginning before I met my husband. I even dabbled in it a few times (bought some pink jerseys, thoroughly enjoyed pre-game tailgate events and participated in discussions about which NFL players had a better looking ass in their spandex.

Now that’s what I am talking about!

Now, I hate it, it has ruined my life. Why you ask? Because I married a NFL-A-Holic.

So for me, January marks the end of football season. It means my husband is finally right around the bend to living a sober, healthy spring and summer. It also means I can finally start to hang pictures up in my new house, have my lawn mowed AND drag my husband along to dreaded weekend errands like grocery shopping. Ahhh the thought brings a tear to my eye.

When I first met my husband, I thought I could change this little habit. Don’t get me wrong, we have made some great progress. I have successfully eliminated the tantrums, one of which ended in a beer being thrown into a wall. I have also ended the excessive crying at the end of each loss, but people, I am no where near the point of ending the addiction entirely. Good thing for me, I am also not alone. There are millions of lonely girls out there who live with these kinds of addicts. To us, “Sunday-Funday” does not exist. Our Sundays are more like “Aw, fuck it’s Sunday”.

For those of you reading this blog wondering, “Could my significant other be a NFL-A-Holic, continue to read, we will find out together.

If you are a NFL-A-Holic, stop reading and get some goddamn help. For Christ sake you people need some serious medication.

Let’s explore the phases of a NFL-A-Holic…

Preseason (gateway behaviors)

The Real Fantasy

Ah, preseason. Perhaps one of the most crucial points in stopping a NFL-AHolic. These preseason behaviors start early in June/July with…I can’t even write it….

THE FANTASY FOOTBALL EXCEL SPREADSHEET.

The spreadsheet is a complied, complicated list of NFL players your addict will be drafting for his fantasy football team.

Ask yourselves these questions:

1. Does he spend hours watching NFL preseason highlights?

2. Would he rather watch men in tights 3x days a week than you in tights?

3. Does he have “Spreadsheet Orgies” with his friends? (discusses his picks for hours)

Yes?! Read on…

Be prepared. The fantasy draft excel spreadsheet will become the mistress in your relationship. In my life, my husband is always with the spreadsheet, rushing home to see it, edit it…to get his fix. If he goes more than 3 days without opening it on the computer, he sweats, gets shakes and becomes intolerable.

During this time, I usually say things to press his buttons:

Me: (sexy voice) Hun, would you mind taking a look at MY spreadsheet? I might be your MVP! (wink, wink)

Him: (doesn’t look up from the computer) Sure, when I am done, ill take a look.

Me: (Now in a very angry voice) You know what, you don’t need that stupid spreadsheet. I’ll just tell you what happens this season. Let’s see…You will loose your fantasy league, which is a total waste of money AND The Redskins will not win, disappointment just like every year….(PAUSE)….AND……RG3 Sucks!

Him: UHHHHH, How could you say such a terrible thing like that? I thought we were in this together…Hail To The Redskins…Remember?

Then comes…THE ACTUAL DRAFT (usually 1-2 months after spreadsheets are finalized). The draft IS a binge to an addict.

NO, NOT THE DRAFT. ANYTHING BUT THE DRAFT!

Take it from me, the actual draft is one of the worst experiences I have ever witnessed.

One time, I decided to sit with him during a draft to fully comprehend the addiction, you know, like try it out and see what all the fuss is about, but honestly, I’d rather give birth to an 80lb baby without medication than to ever do that again!

Call me mama, kid. I’m never sitting through another draft again.

Let me just give you a visual; the draft takes 3-4 hours in total. Each person tells the other which overpaid athlete they want on their team. Easy right? No, these idiots change there minds 50 times and take forever to make a god damn pick like their entire existence depended on. The only thing I thought was, “Seriously? After all the hours you spent with that damn excel spreadsheet why wouldn’t you have some type of “Plan B”.

And then the personality changes begin… You know how men claim they don’t like talking on the phone…WRONG. The addiction turns them into little gossiping housewives.

I received this text from my cousin one football night…”Ryan, John was on his phone for three hours discussing NFL. Some stuff about Brady’s numbers? and Peyton throwing across his body?- I dunno weird stuff-but anyway, the phone conversation ended, not because he was finished talking but because his phone died”. I told her this was getting serious.

I don’t know one talkative girl that can have that kind of stamina. I’m telling you, The NFL changes the addict’s normal personality structure.

Regular Season (Full Fledged Addiction)

Regular season, the worst. This is full-on addiction at its finest. Nothing gets done, the entire day is planned AROUND 1pm, 4pm or 8pm.

They even start making excuses, like, “I gotta run to the bathroom” or “I gotta go get my wallet from my car” But once you have lived with an addict, you know what they are really doing. I followed my addict one day and found out he was secretly logging on to YahooFantasy Sports “Changing His Picks”.

Eventually it gets so bad that my addict doesn’t even get dressed on Sundays. Iv’e taken picture evidence for you all to see…

9am on Sunday…

And…8pm that night

Sundays are filled with lots of cursing, yelling and of course tantrums. The tantrums are worse than my 3 years old, I finally know where she gets it from. I am a bit nervous as well because I am starting to believe that this behavior is making a lasting impression. Do you know any 3 year olds that have NEVER heard of Cinderella but can tell you RG3’s best vertical jump?

Monkey See…Monkey Do

ABC, CBS and Fox- YOU are all homewreckers!

I don’t even have a decent sex life in-season.

No, I don’t keep any kind of sex calendar, my dog documents that for me.

Quick side explanation….

You see about two years back, my addict received a Redskins blanket (like the man needs any reminders of his habit) and it slowly became Joba’s (my dog) blanket. In Joba’s mind, him and I are in a relationship (See: I am a cheater). To him, I am his girlfriend who is unhappily married to “Master” (Boy Ryan). Everytime Boy Ryan and I have sex, Joba chews on his blanket. I assume he thinks Boy Ryan is violating me and because Joba feels he is helpless against Master and can’t come to my rescue. So, he chews and takes out his frustrations on his blanket. Thus, creating the nickname, Joba’s Sex Blanket.

HOLEY-MOLEY

You see that hole in the top right? Yea, summer of 2012., aka Summer of Love.

The blanket is now missing a few months of holes, because from Sept-Jan, I am pretty much celibate (unless the Redskins get a great win, but we all know that’s a rare occurrence). In-Season, our nights are filled with Pre-game highlights and post-game reviews and I sit, waiting patiently, while my Sex drive screams, “NO! PLEASE NOT ANOTHER NIGHT OF FOOTBALL.”

How I can’t wait until February 4^th; I am truly looking forward to having Joba continue his nibbling rituals. I have no doubt that the return of my sex life will be well documented-thanks to Joba.

Post Season (Postpartum)

Post season for a NFL-a-holic is like postpartum for a new mother. These are the happiest times for me, but devastating for the addict. It’s a time for self reflect, especially if his fantasy team didn’t make the top three. Sometimes there is a remorseful period. He starts to apologize for his lude comments and outbursts while taking NFL. It can get very emotional in our house, but remains quiet, peaceful and productive. The withdrawal symptoms can be devastating and at times- scary. Sometimes, I notice a heightened interest in the NBA Fantasy Teams, but it usually doesn’t last long. It’s usually just turns out to be a temporary void that needs to be filled after Football Season is over. Phewww…

I have my sweetheart back but it never last long because he always re-lapses in June. The relapse is inevitable. It’s about as reliable as an obese person going through the drive thru at McDonald’s; you just know it’s bound to happen.

Being with an NFL addict is not an easy thing, but remember that Post season is right around the corner. WE are Almost There! Hang on to any braincells you still have left!

So with that, January, I welcome you with open arms and February 4^th, you can’t get here soon enough.

And Finally, my parting words to the NFL…

All I have to say to you is: GFY, HTTR (Go Fuck yourself “Hail To The Redskins”)