gnats and a bunny

currently living in an old old old house.

a wonderful house.

but an old house.

a house full of character.

a house full of gnats.

and a bunny.

a few weeks ago my roommates and i decided to get a pet turtle.

upon entering the shadiest pet store in possibly the whole world, we locked eyes with the most adorable and freckled heirloom bunny. the turtle was toast.

it was love.

we had too have her/it. the owner had no clue about our bunny and its sexual orientation.

once again... sketchy.

the next day........

ah. this is me screaming right now.

ah! this is me screaming right now alone at my house with a bug killer in my hand clutched tightly as if it were a gun... or my new Marc Jacobs bag.

ah!! this is me running from cockroaches.

they are legitimately hunting me down.

i have nowhere to hide.

no room mates i can find.

everywhere i turn there is a new one staring me straight in the eye.

they are a devious little bunch of roaches and they are aiming to kill.

suddenly i am out of spray. my one chance at survival.

i want to run out the door but am to frightened to move, afraid all of the bugs will join forces on their James Perse clad prey (i was about to fake working out - pilates) and ATTACK, ATTACK, ATTACK.

at first i was going to put all the blame on my sweet bunny edie and “vintage” house. the bunny however is at her aunts house for the weekend.

all of a sudden it hits me.

that beady determined look in their eyes.

the pout when i aim the spray bottle.

the smirk as they dodge my valiant efforts.

i am reminded a little of myself.

the unwillingness to accept defeat when my credit card is declined or my high waisted paisley skirt no longer fits.

I WILL FIND A WAY.

i begin to feel a little sad. i cannot believe i am sympathizing with cockroaches. but, alas i am.

this only lasts for a second.

i try to make a run for it and they begin scampering towards me with vengeance.

lightbulb.

i am bigger than them.

i begin repeating this mantra aloud to myself as my feet take over. i imagine my shoes have the souls/soles (witty, i know) of a mariachi band and start stomping away. it was foul. but necessary.

adios cockaroach!!

inhaled. too. many. fumes.

feeling. faint. dizzy. nauseous.

i should probably google and find out if i am about to collapse or not. maybe phone a friend. dramatic? a little.

first things first. off to the store.

on my list: flyswatter, more ammo, copious amounts of sleeping medication and kleenex...to cry.

heres to hoping i have intimidated the little devils.

raising my glass. thinking of you.

fondly,

katherine cabiness.

i have a problem with champagne.

and by problem, i mean an obsession.

most people bring out the bubbly for special occasions...toasting to a graduation, newlyweds, pink or blue babies and early retirement.

they believe this is why champagne was created.

they however are wrong.

they are misinformed.

their theories are in fact misguided.

i do not trust anyone who does not believe in the power of champagne or the idea that a fabulous outfit can change ones mood or life.

thankfully, i was brought up the right way.

my parents, the stylish and fantastic people they are, taught me from a young age that

champagne does not need an occasion. neither do evening gowns or vintage hats.

people who drink champagne should be able to create the occasion.

i drink champagne morning, noon and night.

i drink champagne :

when im feeling blue, happy, sad, mad, jealous, ecstatic, hungry

when i have a case of the “mean reds”

when i believe i am in love

when i realize i was actually in lust

when i begin a new relationship

when i screw up said relationship

when i purchase a vintage (or new) hat, dress or jewelry

when i read about previously mentioned hat, dress or jewelry

you get the picture. i ADORE champagne.

other things i adore:

gay men - they are after all a girls best friend. clearly.

photography, kindness, hot tea, no cell phone signs.

roadtrips, airplanes, rollerskating, the law of attraction.

music - all, when i am in a mood though, Frank Sinatra & The Mamas and The Papas. ultimate choice.

live theater, "personal days", skor bars, wine, interesting doors.

dancing foolishly, libraries, cheesecake, Tulsa OK.

collecting-- ok. hoarding. ok fine. hoarding.

flowers, winter, curling up with a good book, fireplaces.

dinner parties, good conversation, good company.

okay. that is it. did you catch all of that?

hope so.

sorry, that was alot.

i am sure the question you are wanting to ask, dear reader, is "why am i starting this here blog?" (and RAMBLING, i know.)

a. i like to write.

b. apparently i have alot of free time.

c. i lead a simple yet interesting life. at least i choose to believe this quite bold statement is true...which it probably is not.

JUST HUMOR ME.

disclaimer: future entries...less me me me. i promise.

there will alway always be champagne my darling friends.

and when troubles come my way and the day is full of unrequited love and heartache, i also believe in vodka...on ice.

raising my glass. thinking of you.

fondly,

katherine cabiness.