My Cat The Stripper and Other Musings

Hi guys! Sorry I’ve been absent lately. Would you believe me if I said I’ve been away doing top-secret spy stuff? No? Good, that’s what I want. Okay. You got me. I’ve really been hanging upside down off my sofa wondering: A) How long would it take for all the blood to rush to my head for me to pass out and B) How the hell do bats do this all the time?! So yes, I’ve been productive. I also got totally hooked on the podcast Serial which kinda stole my life for a week. If you’ve listened to it please come talk to me in the comments because I have no one to speculate with! 

You may remember I was going to a hen party, or bachelorette party to those of you across the water. It was so much fun to catch up with everyone and I had a relatively alcohol-free weekend. I know guys. This is not a drill. I DIDN’T GET WASTED. Does this mean I’m now a grownup?! Wow, that’s scary.

Anyway, I actually stopped by to share probably the best headline you will read today. I was scrolling through an Irish media app that I have when I came across this:

 
Like, WHAT?! I don’t even know where to start with this. I haven’t been to many funerals, but I think if all funerals sounded this exciting, I would go to all of them. Literally, every single one. 

I also wanted to share some pictures of my cat. We got her a scratching post for, you know, scratching. The thing is, she doesn’t actually use it for scratching. She seems to think it’s some kind of stripper pole because she has been hanging off that thing like her name is Kandy Glitterbox and I’ve been resisting the temptation to throw money at her. Or kibble. She’d probably prefer that. 

  

  

I am the worst mom ever…

Sorry that this post is all over the place but you guys know the deal with me by now. I will eventually get around to throwing together a somewhat coherent post soon, but until then why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to while I enroll my cat in a convent school? 

Teenagers say the darndest things

The funniest thing happened a few years back with a student that I felt I had to share. Here is pretty much the conversation:

Me: So, Sarah*, I need to talk to you about your story.

Sarah: Am I in trouble miss?

Me: Well, it’s just that… your central character…

Sarah: Oh miss, I worked so hard on him. I wanted to create a complex hero; a kind of a Mr. Darcy, but kinder. It’s so cheesy miss, but I created what I feel would be the perfect boyfriend.

Me: But his name…

Sarah: Well, I chose ‘Ted’ because I thought it was kind of a cute name. He’s an everyday guy.

Me: So you’re telling me this was an accident?

Sarah: What? The name? Like I said, I chose ‘Ted’ because it’s a cute name and then I was looking around my kitchen and I saw a packet of hotdog buns called ‘Bundy’s’ and I thought ‘Ted Bundy’ has a certain charm.

Me: Erm, not quite Sarah. Ted Bundy was one of the most famous serial killers of the twentieth century.

Sarah: WHAT?! I thought it sounded familiar alright. Oh my god, sorry miss.

Me: No, no. I mean, your Ted is lovely. It was just hard to take the bit where he takes his mother out for dinner seriously when all I could picture was the cold hard stare of a prolific serial killer…and then there was the part where he saved that puppy from the pound and I actually wanted to dive into the story and save the puppy.

Sarah: Can I have the story back so I can change his name?

Me: Yes, just stay away from ‘Adolf Hitler’ ok?

I just love my students.
*Name changed