Rosie has a cold or something, which has been making our face-to-face moments pretty…unpredictable…lately. I mean…we’re madly in love and all, but is it worth getting cat sneezes in my face?

Answer: yes.

Okay. I need to start writing a stem cell paper and stop doing things like posting pictures of pies and getting all riled by terrible things that terrible people say about people who are not terrible.  
But let me just post one more thing. Look at how Rosie is draped across the arm of my sofa. How is that even comfortable? She’s been like this for an HOUR. Shut UP she is too cute and amazing and something that is not terrible in a world full of terrible things and terrible people. 

Okay. I need to start writing a stem cell paper and stop doing things like posting pictures of pies and getting all riled by terrible things that terrible people say about people who are not terrible.  

But let me just post one more thing. Look at how Rosie is draped across the arm of my sofa. How is that even comfortable? She’s been like this for an HOUR. Shut UP she is too cute and amazing and something that is not terrible in a world full of terrible things and terrible people. 

Me wearing all black today makes my little lady super excited for lap sitting. This is because the usual coating of Rosie fur that I get will be way more apparent and everyone I encounter will know how much we love each other. 

Me wearing all black today makes my little lady super excited for lap sitting. This is because the usual coating of Rosie fur that I get will be way more apparent and everyone I encounter will know how much we love each other. 

I’m trying to do some science, but we just had a big storm here and Rosie was scared and now she’s sleeping on my lap and she’s too cute and she is purring and she NEEDS ME. 

I’m trying to do some science, but we just had a big storm here and Rosie was scared and now she’s sleeping on my lap and she’s too cute and she is purring and she NEEDS ME. 

I can only hope to attain this level of relaxation.

I can only hope to attain this level of relaxation.

Somebody is glad I’m back from the neuroscience retreat.

Somebody is glad I’m back from the neuroscience retreat.

Guess who likes lap naps again now that it’s cooler outside.

Guess who likes lap naps again now that it’s cooler outside.

Let’s take a moment and talk about how much I love Rosie the cat.
I was just sitting here dreading all the work I have to do this week and the next and the next and the next and the next…
Then, I looked down at this little furball laying across my lap and thought this:
I mean, people always say this about their pets, and pets in general, but she is great because right now she’s cuddling up next to me, purring, and not caring about what I messed up today, whom I made cry when I was five, how much money I have, how attractive I am, or any other bullshit that I’m always worried about. She just wants to be next to me. And this is what she asks in return for being cute and awesome to me: some dry food pellets (and the occasional treat), some water, a couple of scratches behind the ear, a box of sand in the corner of my living room, and about five seconds of acknowledgement when I walk in the door. That’s it. 
That anyone or anything could be so close to unconditional is still beyond me, because we’re not that with regard to ourselves or other people. Most of us, anyway. And this little cat, who can’t possibly understand genocide, racism, sexism, oil spills, poverty, politics, war, peace, calculus, what it takes to bake a perfect cake, blah blah blah, is better at being what I so often claim to be and clearly, admittedly am not: fair, balanced, and undiscriminating. All I have to do is be nice to her…what a concept. So deep, I know (shut up, Devon).
Anyway, to sum it up, sometimes she runs across my face at four in the morning, starts fights with my socks, and tries to kill my feet through my comforter, but Rose is pretty cool, overall. I will gladly scoop her poop out of the little sandbox in the corner for the next fifteen to twenty years.  

Let’s take a moment and talk about how much I love Rosie the cat.

I was just sitting here dreading all the work I have to do this week and the next and the next and the next and the next…

Then, I looked down at this little furball laying across my lap and thought this:

I mean, people always say this about their pets, and pets in general, but she is great because right now she’s cuddling up next to me, purring, and not caring about what I messed up today, whom I made cry when I was five, how much money I have, how attractive I am, or any other bullshit that I’m always worried about. She just wants to be next to me. And this is what she asks in return for being cute and awesome to me: some dry food pellets (and the occasional treat), some water, a couple of scratches behind the ear, a box of sand in the corner of my living room, and about five seconds of acknowledgement when I walk in the door. That’s it. 

That anyone or anything could be so close to unconditional is still beyond me, because we’re not that with regard to ourselves or other people. Most of us, anyway. And this little cat, who can’t possibly understand genocide, racism, sexism, oil spills, poverty, politics, war, peace, calculus, what it takes to bake a perfect cake, blah blah blah, is better at being what I so often claim to be and clearly, admittedly am not: fair, balanced, and undiscriminating. All I have to do is be nice to her…what a concept. So deep, I know (shut up, Devon).

Anyway, to sum it up, sometimes she runs across my face at four in the morning, starts fights with my socks, and tries to kill my feet through my comforter, but Rose is pretty cool, overall. I will gladly scoop her poop out of the little sandbox in the corner for the next fifteen to twenty years.  

Apparently, my backpack is a very comfortable bed. Every time I set it down after I get home, not more than five minutes passes before there’s a cat on top of it.

Apparently, my backpack is a very comfortable bed. Every time I set it down after I get home, not more than five minutes passes before there’s a cat on top of it.

This storm is freaking out the kitties. 

Somebody’s trying to hide.

Somebody’s trying to hide.

So this happened as soon as I sat down. 
I just got home. Rosie cat does not waste time.

So this happened as soon as I sat down. 

I just got home. Rosie cat does not waste time.

Haven’t posted any obnoxiously cute photos of Rose in a while…so…here you go. Taken at 10am and 10pm, respectively.

In which I am a cat bed…

In which I am a cat bed…