Life Without Socks

What about the cat?!

Have you ever sat on a cat? No, me either- but I did put my knee on a slimy, wet cat hairball just this morning. I was minding my own business, putting my knee in our overstuffed livingroom chair- the chair that cost me $398.00, the chair that the damn cat has already tried to shred (numerous times) and lo and behold, right through my white eyelet nightgown, comes this squishy, seeping, wetness.

My mind won't register anything at first. It tries to take me down the road of red herrings, coming up with such scenerios as- my knee is leaking- the chair has sprung a leak- I have nerve damage that leads me to feel sensations that are not real- when suddenly, I am struck with the realization that this is some animal abomination. Some disgusting function that only some animal- no, specifically, some CAT, can do.

I look down with a certain amount of "oh no you didn't" mixed with a fair amount of "you've been punked by a cat", and there it was. The most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my life! It looked like a miniture version of whatever is washing up on the beach near Montauk, NY- that hairless, bloated brown body thing- I wanted to scream and throw up at the same time, but instead, I recoiled my knee in an auto-response mode and set my foot solidly down- ON THE OTHER HALF OF THE ABOMINATION!! I had to hop across the beige livingroom carpet, down the hall, into the tiny 1950's bathroom, hoist my leg and foot into the sink (no easy feat- since the 90's) and scrub, scrub, scrub for hours. Still, I had the vague feeling something from that damn cat was still lingering with me.

Donning a gas mask and rubber gloves, I eventually went back to the scene of the crime to clean whatever the hell that was that the cat expelled. Hairball-schmairball. Really. I have a fair enough belief that cats do this on dead purpose. If it was just a hairball, why doesn't it look like just hair? Why does it look like a small, half-formed genetic cat experiment gone awry? Why is it always brownish tan and slimy? Cat's hair is not slimy- my cat is grey, why then, do I always see a small mutation minus a birthing sack and eyes?

But enough. The cat hates me and did that on purpose as she does everything on purpose- you see, I am a cat step-parent.

Before you all get on a bandwagon about me being a cat-hater and such, you must understand. I too, am a mother, but of real, human children, and my partner is a step-parent. My partner also believes my children are next to the devil's spawn and that I am inconsistent, too permissive and in general, a crap parent. My partner has been offered the solace of a room in the twin sister's house if the step-parenting roll- the children- are just too much to handle. Doctor Phil will devote a talk show hour to my partner if we want to go on national television to have my partner describe the horrors of step-parenting- but what about me?

Do I get offered a room somewhere to get away from the cat? Will Dr. Phil devote an hour-long segment to the trauma of living and trying to step-parent a cat? NO. Most people just scream out "buck up, how bad can it be?" Well folks, YOU HAVE NO IDEA!

Unlike children, the cat has no rules. Not even a pretense of rules. The cat is allowed- no encouraged- to eat on the table (the table my father built out of the oak shipping crate that my great-grandfather traveled with across the seas from Europe to America) and to use human dishes. The cat can stand on the counter with no complaints- The cat slobbers food and not a word is said. The cat plays in the street and goes out again the next day. The cat disappears and nothing happens. Why, the cat has even barfed in the livingroom, peed on clothing, drank out of the toilet and had two teenage pregnacies where we didn't even know who the father was! Still, nothing, nothing at all- but, should my daughter show up in such a condition, she would be in reform school! The cat? Free to walk around. The cat has stolen (jewelry) assaulted (my feet) vandalized (the wicker laundry basket and the livingroom chair) murdered (birds) and countless other infractions. She is allowed to sleep in our bed every night (good luck that my daughter would ever be granted that priviledge) never brush her teeth or take a bath, walk across the fireplace mantle and break, take, and snake around everywhere!

I'm the permissive parent? I'm the permissive parent?! That cat has no rules whatsoever!! The cat has no chores, no school and doesn't have to pick up after herself ever. At least I try to implement some type of discipline on the children. Em has been grounded, scolded, made to apologize and lost privileges. The cat is never grounded, never given consequences, rather she is rewarded with wet food and massages daily. I know, I know- a lot of cat lovers are not going to see my point- but isn't "what's fair for the girl, is fair for the feline?" I think it's about time that someone take a stand. So, the next time one of you gets into a relationship with someone with children, and then whines and moans because it's so hard- and all you brought into the picture was a cat (or a parrot, a monkey, a horse or a goldfish) just remember, it isn't easy being a step-parent of anything- but the kids might take care of you in your old age- MIGHT- if you play your cards right. The cat?..... not a chance... And who's fault is that?

Running with the Wolves

So, this recession has seemed to put a real damper on a lot of people's festive lifestyles. A prime example- mine. I didn't know how seriously it would affect me until a few days ago. Now as I sit, inside my unlit car, which I have hidden under a pile of tree limbs, tinfoil on my head, trying to bang this out on a laptop before it becomes light and they find me- well, consider it my legacy to you. Suzie Ormon was right!

It all started like this: I called the bank the other day, to address a credit card issue that had appeared in writing on my doorstep. Apparently a new policy in which the credit card company can jack your credit card percentage up as high as they want, give you 30 days notice, and unless you read this print about a millimeter of a centimeter big and call to "opt out", well, heck, they can just put the extra charged interest on your next month's bill. Furthermore, if you had a promotional balance that was some ridiculously low rate and was good for the life of the loan, again, they can change those terms too- this time, they can raise the minimum payment percentage (did I say raise? Silly me, I meant DOUBLE PLUS) and poof- what you are expecting to pay, is but a mere drop in the bucket!

Is it just me, or have other people drawn the same conclusions that I have? I did a little figuring and realized that the postage, paper, manpower, writers fees, and ink that it took to send these little irritating notices to people cost... well roughly... about what the Federal Government gave them out of our future tax penalties as a BAIL OUT!!! Anyway, as I said, I called the bank the other day to "opt out" and a very nice man, with an accent I could not define, informed me that if I chose to "opt out" my credit limit would be lowered to exactly the amount that I owed on the card at that time, but yes I could choose that option. "You would lower my credit line by $19,000.00?" I asked incredulously. "I am so sorry, ma'am," he offered, "but it is now the way we do business." He started to speak but gunfire in the background stopped his sentence.

"Would you mind if I moved to another room?" he asked me, not giving any explanation for the screaming and groaning I heard in the background.

"No, go right ahead," I offered, feeling a bit concerned.

"May I suggest," his familiar voice said just a few moments later, "that you consider consolidating other debts onto this card and then opting out. That way you will receive the low interest rate on the other high percentage rates that you currently have balances on."

"I really don't have anything else charged right now," I said to him.

"What about those underwear you bought yesterday, and that IPOd shuffle you got for your sisters upcoming 60th birthday," he offered.

"Well, I intended to pay those off-" wait a minute, how did he know about my sisters birthday IPOD?

Suddenly a torturous scream resounded through the phone lines. "Excuse me quickly" he said in his broken English, he laid down the phone roughly forgetting to put it on MUZAK. I was privy to everything on the line.

The Man: "You will sign this agreement or you will never see your little dog again, do not toy with my credit specialists, they have ways of making you comply with the terms outlined in your agreement."

A woman's voice: "But, I didn't agree to those terms. This was a pre-approved credit card. I don't want it!"

The Man: "Oh, you want it alright, you want it bad... and you're going to get it, too... but at 28% interest compounded!"

The Woman: "Noooo, please, for God's sake, Noooo!"

The Man: "It's no use begging! You opened the mail, you used the card. You are mine now!

The Woman: "But, I didn't see the fine print! Please, just let me go, I promise I will pay the whole thing off and pretend this never happened. I swear I won't tell a soul."

The Man: "No. I would like to let you go, but this is a war zone- we can't afford to have one escapee- not one exception. Guido, you know what to do, now make her sign the new terms."

The woman screams and the man picks up the phone and calls out.

"Hello, I am sorry for the delay, I was checking with my supervisor. We would like you to come in for a personal visit. We are local now, as you know, as we have taken over your old bank. We are excited to meet you and would like to show you what we have to offer- our new terms are sure to excite you. Can you come in tomorrow?

I made some excuse and got off of the phone quickly. I packed a light bag intending to get out of Dodge- I don't know how far I will get, you see, my money is all tied up at the bank. The same bank where my credit card company now resides. I can't fill my gas tank, get a motel, or eat. I am heading toward the mountains- to live off the land- until this all blows over or Congress passes a bill stopping this torture of innocent people. It started out as just a line of credit and an ATM card.....