the end of my fur-lough

Lulabelle in front, Clementine behind.

More than a year and a half ago, I lost Kudzu. For a time, it seemed that I would never recover, that the hole in my heart would go on forever as a painful void. But gradually, oh so gradually, I started thinking that perhaps some new feline friends could ease the void. Taking steps toward getting new feline friends was another thing entirely.

It wasn't that I didn't know where to go; on the contrary, I know our vet Dr. Geren runs the Magi-Cat Adoption Network. For a long time, I lurked on their site, watching kittens and cats get posted and subsequently adopted. My friend Elizabeth is on the Athens Area Humane Society Board, and I surfed their available cats and kittens, too. But I could never work up the courage to make the call.

Clementine

And so, lucky for me, the cats called me. Dr. Geren lost my email address in a computer snafu over the summer and contacted me so that she could update her records. When I let her know that I was shopping for cats, she said she had the perfect pair - two tabby sisters named Thelma and Louise. Before I knew what was happening, I was picking the sisters up for a trial adoption period.

About three days into the trial, I knew I had new family members. Yesterday, I made it official, adopting Thelma - now Lullabelle - and Louise who is now Clementine. These two sweet sisters have quickly adapted to their new home, romping down the hall, "helping" me check email, and snuggling with my toes at bedtime. Born April 7, 2011, these kittens are 9 months old and 9-pounders already. I'm going to have to get used to sharing the bed.

Clementine

Lulabelle

I still miss Kudzu. I really do. New love is growing for the girls, but that does not entirely diminish the ache in my heart for my lost love. However, Lulabelle and Clementine have given me a reason to come home at night and anticipation for being enthusiastically greeted by two gray furballs. And they do love to be loved and pur accordingly. They make me smile with their love of empty toilet paper rolls and drive me mad in their obsession with the laptop. And I am convinced that we will, the three of us, be a happy little family for years to come.

Lulabelle

Clementine

Hanging Up & Flipping Off

Behold! The craptuclar phone!

Technology has never been a bandwagon I jumped on - maybe because I'm wearing heels that make running and jumping a bit difficult.  Whatever the case, I'm walking around with a Nokia flip phone that I got free with a two-year contract back in 2007.  It's been mocked by a waitress - not to mention my tech-savvy coworkers, a friend who told me that he'd seen homeless people in Washington D.C. with nicer phones and most recently, even Mom conceded that my phone is a piece of garbage.  When Erica Martinez was in from our Dallas office a couple of weeks ago, she responded to the sight of my phone with, "Hello, 1991." It's true - I've been calling the 90s with my Zack Morris phone, but it's time to hang it up.

This phone is the Murdoc of mobile technology.  It's been dropped too many times to count.  Gotten wet.  Pieces of the plastic have broken off around the plug hole for the charger, which means that doesn't stay in very well.  And then there's the front piece that came off completely.  The sticky strip intended to keep it on is now covered with a piece of Scotch tape so that it won't stick to everything I own.  Can you say classy?

The camera is ridiculously bad.  The SIM card is constantly getting full from text messages.  And forget it if someone sends me a photo from an iPhone - it's like total system shutdown.  The volume button is stuck on ten.  For a brief time, the hinge was stuck in the open position, requiring a rubber band to hold it closed.  But then I dropped it again, and that seemed to fix it.

Periodically, it experiences some sort of electrical hiccup and the screen freezes up and then shows horizontal lines that make the think Max Headroom is about to make an appearance.  Alas, it's just another dropped call and a three-minute reboot process.

Goodbye, 90s phone!

I shall miss its monophonic ring tones.  Its tweety bird text notification.  Its Wayne's World dream sequence sound cue alarm clock.  The callous on the inside of my right thumb from texting alpha-numerically.

But it's time to drop it like a call between cell towers.  It's time to get more bars in more places, ditch the rollover minutes and get smart.  Tomorrow I'm going to AT&T for an upgrade.  I'll also be purchasing a 15-year-old to teach me how to use my new phone.  Or maybe there's an app for that.