A home I could call my own.

Dudes, you just simply would not believe how big my dog is now. I guess it's to be expected, as she has officially crossed the 6 month mark (and with no lack of grace, mind you). She's so smart it literally almost kills me. I come close to cardiac arrest chasing her around the house when she knows it's time to go outside. True to her breed, she's a champ at herding me all over the place.

It's been cold here in the Ciudad (I'm starting a new thing, pay attention) and Gertie gets kicked out of the house during the day, so that she won't Gertiefy in here. You should see the zen garden she creates in the backyard. Point is, Santa Claus brought her a dog house for Christmas, as well as... a sweater. I've never been known to dress my dog. Annie had two articles of clothing: a rain jacket that Maria bought her which never stopped being funny to me, and a vampire cape I found at Walgreens for 99 cents. But, with it being so cold and Gertie having such short hair, it seemed like the right thing to do. I'll put it on her every morning before I leave from work and it's always off by the time Chelsey gets home. Who knows how she does it, but she's got it down to an art.

I'll stop talking about my dog after I tell you that Chelsey and I also bought her a name tag. after several intense conversations about what to actually put on the tag. We settled on, "Maybe the Gertie ate your baby!". I don't know if you've noticed, but we're actually raising a dingo. The tag makes me laugh every time I see it.


And since we're on the subject of wild animals...


"Oklahomans have enjoyed or cursed feral hogs in the southeast and eastern part of the state for several years. Although feral hogs are oftentimes considered free ranging livestock in these portions of the state, there are many pros and cons regarding their presence. Landowners, especially farmers, cringe at the thought of hogs becoming established in their part of the country. Many hunters, on the other hand, look forward to acquiring them on their favorite hunting grounds. To some hunters the hog represents a formidable trophy worthy of payment for hunting privileges. To some landowners, the combination of feral hogs and lease hunters makes having feral hogs on their property a bit easier to accept. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the feral hog will be around for a while, regardless of your opinion of them."

Alright. I pled ignorance on this, but feral hogs, razorbacks if you will, are real things. I remember working at the Capitol last winter and a certain representative pushing a piece of legislation called "The Feral Hog Control Act". I pretty much thought that was the funniest thing I'd ever heard. Like, really dudes? Little piglets trampling your corn? Poor southern New Mexican farmers. So then, I come to Oklahoma and I'm reading some new legislation that's about to take effect (actually trying to find information on this excuse for legislation) and what do I come across? "HB 2158 lets hunting businesses hire an airborne feral-hog sharpshooter."

So...

Let's just break this down. The state of Oklahoma adopted legislation that authorizes sharpshooters in helicopters shoot feral hogs. "House members voted 87-12 for a bill that authorizes the state Department of Agriculture to issue permits to property owners who already have a big game commercial hunting area license to manage "depredating animals,'' such as feral hogs." All you need is a license, some buck shot, a helicopter and it's huntin' season, y'all.

Naturally, hilarity continues. Until I start google-ing "feral hogs".


and this is the first image that comes up.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

The average weight of feral swine is 100 to 150 pounds, but depending on the region can obtain sizes in excess of 600 lbs. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. You're telling me there are pigs that can weigh 600 pounds? And I live on the same continent as them? Not cool. It's bad enough knowing how many alpacas there are in South America and just how easily they could just march on up here and destroy my life. But NO. Razorbacks are knocking on my bedroom window. I seriously just thought a "razorback" was just a silly mascot thing, like Lobo Louie. Or a unicorn. But. No. They're real. And they're here. And I live in a state where people can shoot them from helicopters. I guess that makes me feel safer?

I had a dream last night that feral hogs got into the condo by CHEWING THROUGH THE GLASS and ate all the food we had in the fridge. Chelsey screamed something about finding a helicopter and we both ran outside, except we were instantly downtown and feral hogs were running and squealing everywhere, and there were hundreds of helicopters flying overhead.

Safe to say, I've got a new phobia. And out, New Mexico, they're coming for ya.


And on the note of downtown OKC, I went to the Cuidad's (starting it) Museum of Art a few days back, which houses one of the largest Dale Chihuly collections in the country. Normally I could take or leave blown glass, but that stuff was pretty rad. I especially liked the anemones, because, well, I like anemones.

I also liked the museum because it was very much the sort of place were talking was embraced. So, so many museums you walk into and feel like you need to shut up, but coversations were all over that place. And even though I wasn't an active participant, I very much enjoyed the active space.


Other than wild beasts (Gertie included), life's been running pretty steady. Chelsey and I have been very much enjoying alcohol-induced testimonials on photobooth. Don't be surprised if we make you a video one of these nights, whoever you are. Words cannot express my gratitude over having such a fantastic roommate.

I like my job pretty alright; it keeps me quite busy. But I've been really good about not letting it stress me out and everytime I start to feel overwhelmed, I completely stop whatever I'm doing and let myself have an hour to get organized. This is helpful. It also wastes an insane amount of post-its.

My holiday plans are as follows: I'm leaving here on the 23rd, spending the Eve with Momma, driving to Tucumcari on the 25th to see Dad, heading to Pampa with Dad and co on the 26th, and I'll be back here on the 27th. Happy holidays, have a car ride. Not that I've ever minded that. I'm trying to plan a week to visit home sometime in January or early February.

In sports-related news, I wish the Habs would win some more games and I hope that both OU and OSU win their bowl games, because you can seriously feel football-related depression around here.

But the eatin' sure is tasty.


Oklahoma: Best place to be hungover since 1907.

I <3 TO FEST.

Ten Fun Facts about The Fest! (and my trip across the South.)

1. Alabama is freaking terrifying at 4:00am.
2. Florida is 80 degrees in October and also 95% humidity all the time. Be still, my beating heart. No really, calm down Cat, stop panting.
3. The Fest is just as much ruckus as you've read it to be. I saw random pairs of underwear on sidewalks.
4. That said, it's really a brotherhood. If you pass out on the street (which I did not!), someone will always pick you up and help you out.
5. And that being said, the male:female ratio is about 9:1. I dunno, something about dudes liking bands that sound like Hot Water Music? And more so, the ratio of attractive males with beards and good tattoos:unattractive males is about 9:1. ONCE AGAIN, be still, my beating heart. (Such a stereotypical "girl who went to Fest" statement, but like I care.)
6. PBR tall boys are $2 everywhere you go.
7. Music never stops. There are warehouse shows, house shows, acoustic stuff in hotels until bars open the next day.
8. More cities need this. I know it's convenient in Gainesville with No Idea, but seriously. It's a great showcase for local venues and lesser known bands, but also a huge money maker for a city that normally doesn't make much on Halloween weekend because of the Florida/Georgia game being at a neutral site out of town.
9. I took VERY FEW pictures of actual music. The amount of people running around with D-80's and waving some sort of press pass was gross. I'm sorry, responsible press doesn't stand ON the stage WITH the band to take pictures. That's my one complaint.
10. I went to Graceland on the back, fulfilling a life-long dream. The staff told us awesome stories about Elvis and his buddies riding the horses and golf carts all over the property. I AM SURE THIS HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH NARCOTICS.
BONUS FACT. I had the most fun Halloween in my life history with the holiday. I'll be back next year.

And now, 10 fun fotos!


I repeat: Alabama's terrifying at 4:00am. We drove right by Talladega, or as Matt called, "Burning Man for rednecks".


Georgia.


Matt McHughes carries a man purse when he needs to distribute CDs.


Someone in this photo is drunk and someone else is high. TAKE A GUESS.


Jerry Jump is the best person on the planet.


Oh HELLS yes.


The amount of mirrors in Graceland is ridiculous. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH NARCOTICS. This is me and Jerry creeping some floral arrangements. See the corner for bonus Matt.


That monkey creeps me out. And I really like monkeys. But not that one.


ONCE AGAIN. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH NARCOTICS.


The amount of records and awards in that place would make Bono pee his pants.

And for that actual life-thing, I start work tomorrow. Dreading it, since I picked up some sort of Fest flu. But I normally feel this way before going back to work. And once I get back into the swing of things, I feel so much better than I did when I was unemployed.

I need a tie that says Satan.

Good news! I got a job. Bad news, it's temporary again. But this time, it'll be for about four months.

BEST NEWS! The Fest in 48 hours.

I love the ocean.

Today I:

Woke up with Gertie at 8:00am. And since she didn't want to go back to sleep, I watched a whole lot of Gilmore Girls.
Ate some Ramen.
Applied for some jobs.
Ate some toast.
Saw a kid fall of his scooter. Proceeded to laugh for a good 10 minutes. (Chelsey: "You should never have children.")
Took Gertie to the dog park. She was really excited about it. Please see the following image:

Ate Moroccan food at the Cous Cous Cafe, located within walking distance of the condo. Man, was it ever tasty.
Went to see Paranormal Activity and had a brilliant time suspending my disbelief and wanting to cry with fear.
TOTALLY saw someone getting road head at a stoplight on the way home. They weren't even trying to hide it.
Watched some Iron Chef.
Drank some tea.

And that brings you up to the current.

See, lately my days go a lot like this (well, minus the road head part...) where nothing too thrilling happens but I manage to have some fun. And when life's moving that slow, it makes blogging feel like running through mud. Really dudes, who wants to hear about the 20-millionth job application I submitted today? No one, that's who. And with facebook/twitter, it seems my exploits are well-documented on the internets. Makes me think that the actual blog might be quietly retiring and dying.

Oh, don't worry, I'll still come around. Me and about 5 thousand other people are headed east this weekend to Gainesville, Florida for The Fest. I plan on seeing about 100 good bands, drinking about 100 PBR's and spending about 40 hours in a car with Matt McHughes and his beard. I cannot think of a finer way to spend Halloween, especially after surviving two years of seasonal retail. It's the sort of event I think I might need another memory card for.

I can tell you this: While life's been somewhat bleak lately, drowning in a sea of unemployment and such, my trip home and the week or so after it have really opened my eyes. And what do I see, my friends? Just the slightest glimmers of hope coming through, and from the most unexpected of sources. Something tells me a weekend in a place I've never been to, surrounded by great music and complete madness will only wake me up more. Can't wait.

The faces, hands that I'm haunted by.

Home in 10 images.

Back up.

And continuing in tradition of positive blog postings...

People have the most creative names for wireless networks.

(It's important to note that my condo's network is "Ham is Good")

And please for you to meet Esteban, new friends Adam and Erica's cat. Most cats really do like having the base of their tail scratched, this is no secret. Esteban however, takes it to another level.


Humor's important.

Better off.

You know, I could post about the trials and tribulations of finding a job, just how poor I am or other assorted less-than-fun items on rotation in my life-space. But I decided to go with this instead: