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Thomas is doing really well so far. I took him to the vet yesterday and he was very well behaved. The vet confirmed that he’s only 8 weeks old, so I guess the woman who had him first got the month wrong, so he’s too young for shots and tests, but I’ll be taking him back to the vet in 2 weeks.

Snoozin on the Sofa

He came onto the couch for the first time last night. He’s been playing and cuddly and much more social. And I taught him how to use the litter box. I’m very proud of myself. And of him, which he knows cuz I then showered him with love.

I’ll be posting updates on him here as well as pictures to his photo album. You can hit the follow button and get updates whenever I upload new ones, which I will be doing a lot. I’m hoping to scrapbook his life and growth this way. I’m such a mom sometimes. And I know he’s gonna grow fast.

So yeah, he’s 8 weeks old and was just weaned. That woman was such a bad owner, trying to lie to all of us like that, or maybe she just couldn’t do math. And the vet said she probably had them all running outside because of the amount of ear mites and general neglect. He’s definitely underfed, which we are fixing.

I’m so glad I saved him from the shelter and gave him a good forever home. He’s gonna be the most spoiled thing ever. We hit Petsmart last night and I’ve already started a mental list of stuff I wanna get him when he gets bigger. Granted, I’ll probably like them more than he will, and if I buy him a fancy bed, I know he’ll just sleep in a box. Silly cats. But I loves them anyway.

Our family has a brand new member: Thomas O’Malley.

Thomas O'Malley - Tabby Extraordinaire

Thomas O'Malley - Tabby Extraordinaire - in his cat cave


His name is sufficiently geeky and awesome, as it’s Irish and a cartoon character, which is fitting, according to Schaffer the Darklord’s Nerd Lust “Tell my about your kitties do they fill you with laughter? And which cartoon characters did you name them after?” He’s named for the Disney Aristocats protagonist, so his full name is Abraham de Lacy Giuseppe Casey Thomas O’Malley. He’s an adorable little orange ball of fur and I loves him. Irish seems to love him too, since he was playing with him and petting him a lot. It was nice to seem him so affectionate and adoring.

I’m taking him to the vet tonight for his shots and a basic checkup to make sure he’s healthy. We don’t think his mother’s owner was really taking care of the kittens that well and he’s so small it looks like he wasn’t getting enough food. But now he’s in a happy, loving forever home and I hope he enjoys living with us.

Also, it seems we now have a mewing alarm clock. But it’s adorable, if not a little heartbreaking. I had to fight the urge to go comfort him last night when we went to bed, when the mewing started. To my surprise, Irish got up and went to console and pet him a bit, then came back to bed. The mewing stopped. This morning we took turns calling to him softly, reassuring him we were still there for him. “It’s okay Thomas,” Irish called softly. The mewing slowed. A few minutes later, he started up again. I called to him this time, “Thomas, it’s alright sweetie.” The mewing stopped. I guess he already is getting to know my voice. He was playing with my feet when I was getting ready for work this morning too. It was cute.

He’ll be staying in the bathroom while we’re at work until he’s a bit bigger and understands not to claw things up. The last thing I want is to come home and find our new(ish) couch destroyed. But as soon as one of us is home, the door opens and he’s allowed to wander to his heart’s content. Not that he has yet.

It just feels great having another living thing in the house. I realized that now, there’s a small living creature that depends on me for life. It’s an amazing feeling. I’m just glad to get this feeling from a cat and not a child. But anyway, there are more pictures of the kitten here. I’ll also be making a Facebook album for pics of him.

Hopefully his first vet visit goes well tonight. And I may need to buy some Benedryl to get me through the first week or so. Itchy eyes and such. Plus allergy season is here on top of it. Joy. But anyway, he’s got a new home, all his brothers and sisters got adopted yesterday, so none of them were taken to the shelter, and I finally have my first real pet ever. So awesome!

I’ve been talking to Spitfire a lot online in the mornings at work and today got pretty deep into the nitty gritty of relationships and our respective troubles with them. In respect to something we talked about today, I found this excerpt from Holly’s blog particularly insightful and applicable:

I guess what most of these guys are saying is “I’m not getting laid and I see that other people are, so those other people must have some super magical unfair advantage.” Well, sort of, but that advantage is a lot more common than you think, and has a lot less to do with “being a millionaire lawyer with perfect abs” and a lot more to do with “acting like women are people.” As long as women are The Challenge, The Enemy, The Gatekeeper, The Quarry, or any other fucked-up-all-to-hell metaphor, you’re going to keep having trouble with us.

If we’re people, well… no more and no less trouble than any other kind of people, is all I can promise you.

Hopefully he’ll read this. In fact, Spitfire, you really should read more of Holly’s blog. It’s quite awesome and full of sexy times and insight into the minds of the types of women who are actually worth your time. Aka not bitches, but cool geeky chicks. Who like sex. Wait, that’s redundant. Har.

I did, however, find the painful irony and unfortunate bits of me giving advice on relationships to Spitfire: I can’t seem to take my own advice. I can tell him all I want that he can do this or this and that it could help him with women, but I feel like it means almost nothing coming from someone who isn’t in the perfect relationship as it is. Sigh. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with Irish, happier than with any other boyfriends I’ve had, but I’m well aware that the situation could be improved.

Actually, I was working on dealing with some problems and trying to improve our relationship through good, old-fashioned communication, but right at the climax of our chat, AngryGinger arrived for video game playing. So there’s currently a big pause button on the conversation. Hoping it’ll resume when AG leaves tonight.

And it’s nothing against him, but he has the worst timing for these kinds of things. But it’s a bit my own fault, since I knew he was coming over tonight and just couldn’t get up the nerve to talk about things with Irish until the last minute. As per usual.

Well, they’re still playing Marvel vs Capcom 3, so I’m gonna sit here and read my smut.

I’ve recently been assured that some men think it’s annoying when women talk about themselves. Well, duh. That makes sense. Most people can’t tolerate listening about someone talk about themselves constantly. But hearing about ourselves is just weird sometimes. Which brings me to the next Pro Tip:

We all want to be complimented, but hearing compliments too much can be annoying, unnerving, and can even feel faked or forced. I like being told nice things, as it feels reassuring and makes me feel better about myself. But when someone constantly calls me pretty, or hot, or gorgeous, it loses its value and I feel like they’re just saying it because they feel like they should, not because they mean it. It can get to the point that I feel the opposite is true, and they’re trying to appease me by saying these things, but in fact making things worse.

That being said, this applies more to suitors and guy friends than it does to a current partner. For instance, hearing a compliment from Irish is almost always met with joy and sometimes surprise. Granted, he doesn’t overdo it. In fact, I’d love for him to compliment me more often, but I think his opinion is that it’d get old and tired quickly. Not sure if I agree there.

But anyway, my point was that when my guys compliment me too much, it becomes counterproductive and actually makes me shrink away from them a bit, cuz they seem too eager to please and like they’re trying too hard to make me feel good around them. Here’s a hint: if I feel good around you, it’s because of the way you treat me and act around me, not necessarily the things you say. In this case, actions indeed speak louder than words.

While I appreciate compliments as much as the next girl, don’t overdo it. You’re hurting yourself and making me feel like I am, in actuality, not hot or cute or whatever. If I stop smiling and/or giggling when you do it, that’s because it’s no longer working, so lay off it for awhile. Just saying. Err… just writing.

Sometimes a hug or a random cuddle means more to me and does more for my ego and self-esteem than a compliment, whether it’s warranted or not. I’m not sure if this applies to just me or to the bulk of females, but hopefully it lands somewhere in between and someone finds it helpful.

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