You may call me Melissa. Or Hey, you. Either one.
I lose my balance all the time and for no reason. I do a sexy pre-shower dance every other day without fail. I sing songs about how much I love cheese.
a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist, which essentially means that the future of my unborn children is already doomed. My therapy work mostly involves working with survivors of domestic and sexual abuse, so I have a great excuse to come home and unwind by watching the crappiest TV known to man and no one can say jack about it. I also have this profound problem when choosing entertainment; I usually end up walking out of the bookstore with memoirs of people who have been through horrible experiences. My brain sees this and thinks, ‘Trauma? Ooh, FUN!’ By comparison, I guess crap TV is an improvement…?
Sadie is my four year old tri-color domestic shorthair. She’s very whiny and bitey. She likes to flop over a lot and doesn’t do a whole host of normal cat things one might expect a cat to do. We tried to send her back but were unsuccessful.
Brian is my 30-something year old dirty blonde domestic short haired human. He’s rarely whiny, not so bitey, and does many things you’d expect a cat to do. I have no intention of sending him back.
Apart from my daily struggle to stay marginally sane, I love to travel and my wish list of places to go is long and expensive.
I have been known to be…enthusiastic about the prospect of one day being a mom. We’ll see how that goes. In the meantime I have taken to driving my cat crazy (see picture) to keep from stealing babies at the supermarket.
This blog has been added to the short list of things that keep me from seeing the inside of a padded cell.