cosie the cat

As I was telling you all last week, Cosie has been diagnosed with feline hyperthyroidism.

Her new medicine regimen has proven to be fairly easy to adapt to. For the first week, she got her pill once a day, in the evening. Then, as per doctor’s orders, on Friday I increased her dosage to twice a day. Now Cosie is taking her pill at 7:30am and 7:30pm. Or as close to those times as possible.

Her overall health seems better, as I mentioned before. She is eating normally now and has energy to play and saunter around my apartment with her prior swagger. She also isn’t throwing up as much. I’m pretty jazzed about that fact, as for several years it’s been a problem. I always assumed it was your typical senior digestion problems, but the drastic cut back in occurrences lead me to believe that in recent times it may’ve been her thyroid problem. So all of that seems good.

Her condition does pose some challenges, however. For instance, in the past, when I’ve gone out of town for a couple of days, I’ve just had my sister or a friend stop by once to check in. Now I have to coordinate someone to give Cosie her medicine. Luckily, my sister has been missing her cat, Daniel, so she volunteered to actually stay at my place for two nights last week while I went to Reno for my birthday.

I was a little nervous leaving Cosie, as she has been sick so recently. Not to mention that the day before I left she developed the sniffles (which after 8 days, she still has…). My co-worker and I had already made our reservations though, so the trip needed to go on. Plus, my 29th birthday was coming up and gambling my guts out is my favorite way to celebrate.

(I guess I’m not supposed to admit that, am I? Oops…)

 I shouldn’t have worried about ‘ole Cosie though. She apparently is well enough to handle herself.

Remember this problem? Yeah. I haven’t forgotten about it either. Despite my meticulous lock up of all dry goods and my installation of sonic mouse “shoo-ing” devices, I still had the sneaking suspicion that the little guy was still around. I hadn’t seen any more mouse droppings, nor had I ever laid eyes on the creature itself, but on Sunday night, Cosie was stalking some unknown thing in the apartment, and she looked serious.

On Thursday morning afternoon, just before I got on the road to head back to the bay area, I received the following text from my sister:

“All is well with the kids again. Cosie pilled beautifully, and ate. Unfortunately, I have to break the news to you that you have a mouse, which I have seen. So has Cosie and Daniel…Daniel is curious….Cosie wants the mouse’s arse. She has been on patrol all night, running and chasing. So, be sure to check around just in case she catches it. Sorry. I saw the bugger in your closet area, you may want to go through there…on the up side, I think that there is just one…”

 Do you know what I said in response? It really wasn’t very eloquent, but expressed my feelings very accurately:


It totally killed the good mood I had been wrapped up in. All I could think about was how much I really didn’t want to see the mouse…dead or alive.

When I got back to my apartment, I didn’t even want to go in there. I felt so grossed out at just the THOUGHT of that mouse running around and the idea of the cats catching it made it twelve thousand times worse. For 1.5 days upon my return, Cosie and Daniel ran around the apartment, meowing strangely (battle calls?) and pouncing on everything they saw. I, however, was choosing to ignore the situation completely. I didn’t go through my closet and I just kept trying to pretend that none of this was happening.

My plan was working splendidly.

Until Saturday morning.

On Saturday morning I got up to feed the kitties, scoop out the litter box and then I was off to take a shower. I had work during the morning shift, so I needed to get a move on. Just after getting out of the shower, I passed through my closet (I have a walk-through closet…you walk through it to get from the bathroom to the living area of the studio) and then I saw it:

Cosie and Daniel were sitting in the middle of the living area floor…with a dead mouse between them.


Let’s be honest, I could say that I reacted all cool about seeing a dead mouse while standing naked in my apartment, but that would be untruthful. I screamed and retreated to the bathroom. I realized I needed to handle this pronto, but I had never imagined it would happen while I was unclothed. I decided I would throw on some clothes so I could pick the mouse up in a bag and run it straight down to the garbage cans. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work. Cosie was now batting the thing across the hardwood floors…and then she picked it up in her mouth and tossed it up in the air.

Obviously I panicked and started to shriek, “AHHH! OMG! Cosie! Drop it! Drop it! Drop it!”

Some would say it was wrong to yell at her and rain on the proudest moment of her life. I, of course, realize that Cosie is hard of hearing and had no idea I was saying anything other than, “Nice kitty! Good job! Disembowel it!”

The scene looked a lot like Kitty Christmas:

Except, you know…with a real mouse.

I quickly ran into the kitchen, grabbed a plastic bag, picked up the mouse (before Cosie could take it off somewhere I couldn’t find it) and shoved it in my kitchen trash can. Then I dressed faster than I ever had before so I could take the garbage outside. So. Fricken’. Gross.

Cosie seemed kind of depressed after that. She tried in vain to play with a toy, but it just wasn’t the same. I had taken away the best toy she had ever had in her entire life.

Unlike Cosie, I was quite relieved to have the mouse removed. I figured the worst was over.

Then I remembered…it was only 7:20am. I was going to have to feed mouse breath over there her morning dose of felimazole. Well happy belated birthday to me.

I washed my hands a bazillion times afterward. As a matter of fact, I think I may go wash them again. Just to be sure.

As you may’ve guessed from my previous post, I’ve been feeling rather affected by what has been happening in Japan.

I’m not exactly sure why I feel as connected to all of it as I do. I think to some extent, it has to do with the fact that I’ve lived through a major earthquake. It may not have been as severe as what we are seeing in Japan, but it gives me a frame of reference to imagine. Maybe it’s because I studied Japanese in college and spent much of my young adulthood skulking around San Francisco’s Japantown with my friends. Maybe it’s because I’ve actually been to Japan and have friends living there right now, going through this ordeal. Maybe it’s because my stepfather was a nuclear physicist who lived and worked in Japan for a few years and told  stories of his time there. Maybe it’s because in 5th grade Kana Takahashi chose me out of all of the Daniel Webster Elementary School student council members to be her pen pal when she and her classmates visited my school as part of their trip to San Francisco.

It’s hard to say.

I know what most people would be thinking: “Sure, Alexa. The stuff going on in Japan is really awful, but you’re miles and miles away. No need to have it disrupt your life.”

Though part of me feels that statement is mean-spirited and selfish, I know that it is also true. While I think the tendency of Americans to forget and/or ignore things that occur outside of our borders is deplorable, it is also important to remember that sitting around watching the television until your eyeballs bleed isn’t going to do anyone any good. Besides, all American television does is scare the bejeezus out of anyone watching with its sensationalist reporting tactics –flashy graphics, reporting of rumors and its constant reminders that sometime in the next 30 years the Earth will rip apart and swallow California whole.

And seriously, if they bastardize Johnny Cash’s song, “Ring of Fire” one more time, I will scream.

Due to this thought that being constantly plugged into the news was a bad idea , I spent a lot of time walking around outside yesterday. Just me and my iPod (well, phone), getting fresh air. And rain. I got rained on. Didn’t bother me though. It felt good. Good to get exercise. Good to have time to think about all of the things that I have to be thankful for. Good (or maybe not so good?) to think about Girl Scout Cookies. Good to enjoy some normalcy.

I urge any of you out there who are also feeling affected to remember to unplug every so often. Or, if you are going to watch, try streaming NHK World or a non-U.S. based station. The news still may not be very chipper, but at least it’s less flashy and they are more careful about propagating rumors just for a story. You can also read Maya’s updates on how things are in Tokyo on her blog or via twitter.

On a (significantly) more pleasant note, I thought I’d share with you something I had planned on posting last Friday. I received two special surprise packages last week. Since people hardly ever send me anything, I was pretty excited.

First was the mystery UPS box. I got home from work on Tuesday to find a missed delivery slip from UPS at my apartment building. It said it was from Amazon. This confused me, as I hadn’t ordered anything from Amazon. I signed the slip so they could leave the package the next day while I was at work. When I got home, I found the following waiting for me:

Maya has been doing the Rachel Cosgrove workouts for a little over a month now. While she was reading the book, she decided that it was something that I might enjoy/benefit from reading, so she waited until she had enough money in her U.S. Bank account and Amazon’d it to me as a surprise. It would have been a complete surprise too, except for the fact that when I mentioned to her in a text that I had received a missed delivery notice for a mystery package, she didn’t respond. Busted!

I don’t really know much about Rachel Cosgrove, or her program, but I look forward to reading it once I finish up my current book. Thanks, Maya!

In addition to Maya’s gift, I also received an envelope from my mother containing these:

As a surprise, my mom took photos I had posted of Daniel and Cosette and had them turned into note cards! She sent me a bunch of Cosie and one of Daniel, and then sent a bunch of Daniel and one of Cosie to my sister. She also sent me a sepia print of a picture from Cindy’s wedding set…one of Cindy, her sister Peggy and myself at the beauty salon after we had gotten our hair done.

My mom said she had just wanted to send my sister and I something unexpected.

The cards made me pretty happy.

I asked Daniel how he felt, but he was too busy to respond. He said he was trying to “unplug”.

I think I am going to join him.

For the past week, I have had a house guest.

Meet Daniel Striped Tiger.

Daniel is here on holiday from my sister’s house until his canine brothers get properly trained up. The first few days were rocky, as Daniel was a little nervous being away from home. He spent quite some time hiding behind the tub and behind storage boxes next to my bed. Now that he’s spent some time here, he’s feeling a little better. He still is spending time sitting on top of my storage boxes though; note the room service remains in the storage area.

One individual that originally wasn’t too excited about Daniel’s visit was his cousin Cosette. Cosie, while excited by all the smells of Daniel’s carrier, wasn’t too excited to leave the life of an only child behind.

I’ve been seeing this face a lot lately.


The last day or so has been pretty exciting around here though. The “kids” have finally started to get along. They’ve spent some quality napping time together, chased each other round and round my tiny studio apartment and then they shared some catnip. Good times were had by all.

Despite Cosie’s change of heart about her cousin, there have still been some tense moments:



I’m sure Cosie will get over it. How could you possibly hold anything against a face like this:

How do your animals react to forced socialization?

I don’t know how you feel about waiting, but I find it very difficult.

I have a history of anxiety disorders (social and general). I’ve never really talked about that here before. Truthfully, at this stage in my life it’s barely noticeable. I’ve developed many coping mechanisms and frankly, I’ve just opened up and grown a lot in recent years.

Sometimes, however, there are things I have issues with.

Like waiting.

I’m not good at it. Be it for people, doctor’s appointments, movies or whatever. It’s just torture. The worst is waiting for a delivery. I hate doing it. I obsessively track them.

“Oh look, it’s in Poughkeepsie! Wait…why is it there? It shipped from Santa Clara?!”

I also have a problem where I can’t go on with my regular day if I’m waiting.

“Clean the dishes? No, I don’t think I can…I’m waiting for a package!”

Normally, I don’t have to deal with this issue. I ship everything to my job. There is always someone sitting in the lobby, capable of signing for the package and calling my office when it has arrived. I can operate as normal. Unfortunately, this week I have three days off, so I had to have the box shipped directly to my apartment.

UPS delivers between the hours of 9am and 7pm. This was going to be a long day.

I essentially checked out the window every five minutes or at any time when it sounded like a large vehicle was outside. At one point I looked out and while I didn’t see any big trucks, I did see this:

They know I’m in here. They’re discarding chucks outside my window!

Anyway, I waited for hours. Literally all day. The driver showed up at 6:52pm. Nice. 8 minutes to spare.


It scares the hell out of me.

I don’t know how to use it at all.

I did exactly what one would do in this situation.

Blind your cat with the flash because you didn’t realize it was on.

Then proceed by annoying your cat by taking picture after picture all in auto modes because you are too scared to try anything out and too tired from waiting to read about what you should do.

“Wake-y wake-y, Cosie!”

“Don’t give me the stink-eye, Cos! You wake me up every morning long before my alarm does. It’s payback!”

“No! No time for a shower! Entertain the people at home!”

“Um. Okay. Yeah. I forgot who I was talking to. As you were.”

So I have no idea what I’m doing with this monstrous thing, but hopefully there will be some kind of learning curve and I will get brave enough to take it off of AUTO in the near future.

How are you with waiting? Are you a package tracking stalker too?

I am happy to report to all of you that I managed to fall asleep without the lamp and TV on last night. I actually got up, brushed my teeth, turned everything off except for the radio.

(I listen to Coast to Coast AM when I fall asleep. What? There’s a city located 9 miles beneath the surface of Chicago? Aliens are running my local supermarket? Tell me about numerology and what it means for me. I love Coast to Coast…it lends to interesting dreams!)

I then slept for 9 entire hours!

As a matter of fact, the only reason I woke up at all was because my cat was poking me in the eye repeatedly with her paw. She’s a very demanding bed buddy.

“Get up off your lazy butt and feed me!”

While I was pretty excited about the amount of sleep, once I “got up off of my lazy butt” to feed Cosie, I realized that I felt like crap. My uterus (sorry guys) is killing me. My head is killing me (often related to that first thing). My thighs are killing me. My first joints on my left hand (I have psoriatic arthritis) are killing me. Everything is killing me this morning.

So I took some Advil gel caps (supposed to take it for the arthritis), made some coffee and a PB&CAB (Peanut Butter & Cranberry Apple Butter) sandwich and returned to bed to think about what I am going to do today.

Man. I really love this cranberry apple butter. I’ve had it smeared on crackers, on oatmeal, on bread….so tasty.

Pretty much the plan for the day is to let the Advil kick in and then go for a short run. Then I’m going to do laundry, including my sheets and comforter, as I just spilt half of my second mug of coffee all over them. After that, I may actually tackle cleaning my apartment up slightly.

Maybe if there’s time after that, I’ll cook something.

I know it SOUNDS like there would be time, since I have the entire day off, but, you know, it isn’t taking into account the time I will spend watching Glee, Netflix and possibly playing Beatles Rock Band.

Before I do all of that, I wanted to talk to you about something.

Yesterday I went to Tuesday Cardio Kick class, which I’m trying to reintroduce into my routine. I like it because I burn tons of calories and leave completely soaked in sweat, so I feel like I really accomplished something. I tend to “feel the burn” for a couple of days in my thighs. It’s also fun and you get to listen to weird remixes of songs. For instance, a remix of  “Bad Day” was playing yesterday, which made me think of this video for half of the class:

Oh what it took not to giggle.

There is one thing I do not like about group exercise classes though. Booty shorts. Yes, you read that correctly, booty shorts.

Cover your eyes, children:

Source via a google image search for “workout booty shorts”

Now one of the reasons I chose to go to the YMCA in the first place was the lack of cruising and focusing on appearances at the facility. When you go to a 24 Hour Fitness in this city, it’s a total meat market. When I first started to lose weight, I was at 232 pounds and there was no way I was going anywhere near a 24 Hour Fitness. So, I started at Curves. I felt safe there, as it caters to women of all shapes and sizes. I stayed there for about 3 months and lost my first 40lbs there. Thing is, Curves is pretty boring. It’s exceptionally repetitive. I was discouraged by other members from wearing my iPod. It just wasn’t the right fit for me, so I went in search of a facility that was. The YMCA just seemed like a logical place for me to go. They had a full gym and they also had people of every shape and size. People don’t cruise there and it’s a super friendly, safe environment.

For the most part, you don’t see any of that “get dressed up to workout” mentality going on.

Except for this one girl in my cardio kick class.

It’s not exactly that she dresses up, per se.

It’s more like she’s barely wearing anything at all.

She wears these shorts.

They’re black and about the length of a belt.

Now, I’m not a prude. Normally, I wouldn’t care what anyone else was wearing, but these shorts just bug me. She usually comes in late. I usually wind up standing behind her and then during every lunge or move where we have to get low to the ground, I have her ass hanging out in my face. I mean, she’s not overweight. The shorts fit her. She doesn’t look bad in them, I guess….but I just don’t want to have to look at someone’s butt off and on for 45 minutes, and in a group exercise class where people bend over in front of you over and over again, that’s what happens. It just grosses me out.

Maybe I’m overreacting, but I just would prefer to have the behind in front of me fully covered.


Okay. Time to get up and go for a little bit of a run. Glee and Rock Band Cleaning my apartment and doing laundry await!

Booty shorts at the gym…yay or nay?

There is nothing worse than getting a poor night’s sleep. Well, except for getting several bad rests in a row.

As I mentioned yesterday, I have a problem with accidentally falling asleep with the TV on. In addition to this, I have other sleeping issues, mostly involving short nights or just plain unrestful sleep. Last night was a short night situation. I had some work to finish up after I got home from my “real” job. I didn’t get to bed until after 2am, but given that Tuesdays are my days off, I figured I’d have plenty of recovery. Unfortunately, 6 hours later, I was awake. Not rested, but awake. I was not a happy camper.

I attempted to go back to sleep, but Cosie would not have it. She seems all innocent, but trust me, when she wants her morning can of Fancy Feast, her disposition becomes less than pleasant.


FEED ME!! NOW!!! >:O

I hobbled into the kitchen, in search of some wet food, but alas, I was out. Although Cosie had a big bowl of dry kibble, she wasn’t having it and she mewed and mewed until I put on my flip flops and headed out the door and to the local convenience store. Despite being completely broke until Thursday (payday), I lucked out yesterday and found $20 on the floor…score! I should’ve saved it in case of an emergency, but I decided that my crappy, exhausted self deserved a special treat. After buying 5 very expensive cans of cat food (I had no idea that the store I went to had such inflated prices!), I headed over to The Grind to find something to nosh on.

I returned home with one of my favorite breakfasts:

#11 bagel: Garlic bagel, cream cheese, avocado, red onion, tomato, cucumber and sprouts

I am in love. ❤

And of course:

Nonfat Cafe Au Lait....with a State Farm sleeve....interesting....

Cosie enjoyed the fact that I brought home food. She especially enjoyed that I needed to photograph my bagel outside. It meant an open backdoor….her favorite thing! Unfortunately, it isn’t my favorite thing. It makes me nervous.

She escapes the apartment quickly...

...and then she begins trying to escape up the stairs....

...she claims that she really isn't trying to run away from home...

...that she's just trying to gain a different perspective on the world around her...

..but I know the truth.

I had lofty goals and ambitions for today, but I’m totally wiped out. I think I’m going to watch some trashy television for a bit and then evaluate how I feel.

What do you do when you’re experiencing sleeping problems?