I Met Somebody On Craig’s List . . . .

Get your minds out of the gutters, pervs.  My Daddy-O reads this blog. 

A while back I thought it would be a good idea to get a roommate again.  I had Roommate here for a month or two – remember, my cousin who brought Mini into our lives?  He was such a faithful garbage carrier . . . . I miss that guy.  Anyway, the whole job went down the crapper and I had a lot of extra space in parts of the house that I love to decorate but never utilize.  I figured it was time to start looking for someone.  I started trolling the internet, as it were, and found someone who typed up a lovely ad on Craig’s List which included correct grammar, correct spelling, and pictures.  Once again, let me reiterate: my Daddy-O reads this blog.  Perverts. 

We chatted via phone for a bit then met in person, then did the whole back and forth dance of “Yes, I want to do this, No it won’t work out, Now I’m back to yes again” for a few weeks before settling on “The rent is $X and both these closets are yours.”  Now I’m a firm believer in not living with your friends.  Nothing kills a female friendship faster than a roommate situation.  However, I’m open to becoming friends over time with a stranger who has moved into my home.  There is no pressure to be friends really, only to be quiet and respectful during sleeping hours and to share the kitchen nicely.  If something comes out of it, great.  If not, you make perfectly compatible roommates.  

Before Boss and I parted ways, we had a discussion about it.  It was the last bit of advice he gave me, actually.  He did the big eye roll and said something along the lines of “I really suggest you rethink your decision of having a stranger live in your house, especially someone you met on Craig’s List.”  I heard you, Boss, and I ignored you.  She’s great and to date, it’s working out really well for me. She is a faithful garbage carrier and not once has she asked me to measure her for a mountain bike. 

Now I’m going to tell you how I have been an exemplary roommate for her. 

Murphy peed on her bed.  At least we think it was Murphy.  See, roomie, and let’s call her Kasi Starr, has a kitty varmint too.  Miss Kitty reigns supreme in the upstairs portion of the house now.  When the boys venture up the stairs for a sniff or a nibble of her food, she lets them know loud and clear (and hissy, quite frankly) that the upstairs is her territory.  We aren’t quite sure which of them expressed defiance through urination, but Miss Kitty has been known to do it when she’s defending her territory and Murphy has been known to do it when he’s expressing displeasure, so really it’s a crap shoot.  Either way, Kasi Starr came home from work one day to a lovely yellow-scented bed and had to strip it down to bare bones before she could crawl in it. 

Then, just two weeks ago, I set my car alarm off in the garage at 5:45 a.m.  I guess I felt like the panic button needed testing and let’s talk about how loud and resonating that is in a garage (and most likely in the bedroom directly above the garage, where Kasi Starr sleeps) at 5:45 in the a.m., particularly when it scares me so badly that I drop my keys and have to scramble around to find them on the garage floor for a while before silencing the alarm.   After giving myself a mini heart attack, I left for the gym and then wondered if Kasi Starr was having a mini heart attack of her own.  What a nice way to be jolted from sleep, right? 

Finally, a few nights ago I heard an awful thumping sound on the stairs.  It was pretty loud and while I know Miss Kitty and Seamus are heavy animals (oh, there is a hogging food section below which will neatly explain this), it sounded much worse than two heavy-weight cats romping down the stairs.  I heard Kasi Starr say, “Oh damn.”  She said it a lot and it sounded bad. Do you know what I did?  I thought, “I should get up and go see if she’s okay.” Then you know what I did?  I went back to sleep.  When I woke up the next morning I had a vague recollection of some disturbance in the nighttime but it never fully registered until she told me about how she bounced down five or six stairs on her butt.  I really am a compassionate person but maybe not when I’m asleep?  That does sound vaguely familiar, like maybe I explained that part in the Pee-tah story.  Clearly I’m the person you want to call when you get hurt, because like I’ve said, I’m very compassionate and a fantastic cook, but perhaps you should wait until morning before doing so in order that I can be properly sympathetic.     

I’ll end with this.  While I think Kasi Starr and I will get along famously, I’m not so sure about our kitty varmints.  Miss Kitty likes to reign supreme over the boys’ food bowl in addition to the entire upstairs.  This causes Seamus great confusion as it is his happy place and he’s used to being able to bully Murphy out of the way whenever he feels the urge to nosh.  Miss Kitty takes no bullying of any sort ergo, when she wants to consume the entire contents of the food bowl, she gets to.  I don’t think she likes peas, though, so Seamus still has that comfort.  All the peas, all to himself.  He’s also learned that when she’s hogging all his food, she’s not protecting hers so he will fly up the stairs to hog her food.  When the afternoon sun hits the wall with the big window and light curtain, all the kitties curl up near-ish each other there and snooze the day away, but really, that’s the only fully peaceful time with the three of them.  Otherwise, it’s all hiss, snarl, pee, drop fur, hiss, meow, sleep, thump up and down the stairs.  

Really, it’s working out very well. 



2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Andrew
    Jun 17, 2012 @ 13:56:34

    Maybe a little cat nip would calm them down a bit? Or wait does that do the opposite? I always got that mixed up.


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