January 2010

This weekend marks a one year anniversary of our beloved cat Nicki coming into our lives.

I had planned huge festivities.

For one, I was going to do a Nicki Year in Review recap, the highs and the lows, preferably set to music. I had mentally choreographed a scene where she and Husbandrinka ran towards each other with outstretched arms/paws, but then General Hospital was really riveting this week, so I didn’t have a lot of free time.

Then, I planned to do a photo retrospective, but then I saw this how-do-you-do from Heather, and I can’t compete with that shit.

The big surprise was going to be that I trained Nicki to be litter box-free through a 21-day-EZ program that I read about. Basically, every day, I had to elevate the litter box a few inches, until one day it’s eye to eye with the toilet (litter box eye to toilet eye, that is) and then the cat goes, “hmm…let me use the toilet instead!” and everyone is happy.

Except Nicki’s box kept falling off the stacked magazines which for some reason made everyone really cranky and Nicki poop next to the turned over litter box.

I consulted the book and saw my mistake. Apparently when the litter box on top of magazines was starting to resemble the Leaning Tower of Pisa, you’re supposed to replace the magazines with cinder blocks or bricks.

“Hey,” I asked Husbandrinka. “Do we have cinder blocks or bricks?”
“No,” said Husbandrinka. And then, as far as he was concerned, that was the end of the conversation.
A normal person would have dropped everything and ran outside screaming “Cinder blocks! I need cinder blocks!” until someone came to his aid, but not Husbandrinka. Because he doesn’t love me, like he promised before all our family and friends and God to.

But the final straw was when papa came over last week to watch Young Ladrinka who was enjoying a “stomach ache”. (More on this next week. As soon as my blood pressure stabilizes.)
Marinka, he emailed me. What is this meshugas in the bathroom with Nicki’s litterbox? She is very young still and doesn’t need torture. And then he mentioned that his mother, a psychiatrist in the former Soviet Union, would have committed a person who did such a thing to their pet to the Stupid House. I’m not sure that that was the formal name of the mental health asylums, but I felt that it was inappropriate to argue with him.

So, to celebrate the one year Nickiversary, I’ve dismantled Nicki’s leaning Tower of Pisa litter box and she’s using it again, like an animal.

In other important, news, remember Bagel Half? Well, I now officially miss Bagel Half. Because this afternoon, I looked at our fruit bowl and there was some kind of Bagel Fraction on it.

“What the hell is this?” I asked Husbandrinka.
“I ate a little more of the bagel this morning,” he confessed.
“You have been eating exactly one half of the bagel for over two years,” I told him. “And I was going to photographically document in on my blog!” I didn’t tell him that I was hoping to win some kind of a blog Pulitzer for my efforts because I don’t like to jinx myself. Oh.

And now that’s ruined.
I just can’t catch a break.

Last bit of news. BlogHer ’10 is in August in NYC. I’ll be there, unless it falls on laundry day. And not only that, but some of my co-Mouthy Housewives and I and everyone’s favorite Aunt Becky have put together a proposal for a room, called Dear Abby 2.0: Giving Advice in the Blogosphere. It’s going to be fantastic, but we need your help. Just click here, log on to BlogHer and then click “I would attend this session” (it’s just above the title: Dear Abby 2.0). After you click it it will miraculously say “I would not attend this session”. This means that your vote for the session has been successfully registered. Thank you!

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