Daily Journal


This morning Mario was waiting for me at my bedroom door. I’d like to think that it was because he missed me but I’m pretty sure it’s because he wants in my bedroom, which until this morning, was off limits. They both got by me and since I didn’t want to slam their heads with the door…my kittens officially rule the house.


I seriously need someone to clean out my Gmail contact list and remove all the bad @rpi.edu addresses! I complained about this to my sister and she laughed at me #firstworldproblems.


Since I have to learn a bazillion words for the GREs, I figured I would multi-task during my lunch break workout.


The rest of the work day was spent jamming out to DJ Earworm mashups.


Dinner with my parents to celebrate their 26th wedding anniversary. I wish we could throw them an awesome party every year. My siblings and I are super lucky kids to have such amazing, dedicated, and loving parents.


Home with my kittens! I attempt to study by making flashcards but my mind keeps drifting to redecorating my apartment. Then I realized that the GRE words I’m studying use other GRE words in their definitions….well played Princeton Review, well played!

I almost went to the wine bar to study. It’s like a late night coffee shop right? But let’s be honest, it would be weird and counterproductive.


Must Love Cats

Dogs vs. Cats; the age old argument and a dividing factor among mankind.

OK, so maybe it’s not that serious, but it sounded that serious when I told my friends I might get a kitten. The mere mention of getting a cat sparked a fury of anti-cat responses. When I sent pictures of cute kittens, they responded with videos of cat attacks. When I said they’ll be cute and cuddly, my friends told cats eat dead people. Yeah, it got a little ugly.

While their resistance was meant with love, I realized a couple of things.

  1. I live a perfectly reasonable lifestyle to have a cat
  2. A cat in no way, shape, or form would affect the lives of my friends
  3. I have too many friends to actually become a cat lady (Honestly, this was my biggest concern)

So, on the last day of my summer term class I drove home, caught 2 kittens in my parent’s barn, and brought them home. It was totally impulsive, which is really the only way I’m able to make decisions, and it was totally worth it.

I’m in LOVE with Mia and Mario. They are just as adorable and cuddly as I predicted.  And yes, I got two…now they have company.

Mia - Short for missing in action

Mia – Short for missing in action

Mario (aka Don Draper)

Mario (aka Don Draper)

However there are a couple things that I didn’t predict about cats.

My apartment is not big and there is no good place to keep the kitty litter….I HATE kitty litter. I also hate wet cat food. These two things are probably somewhere on my top 10 lists of grosses things ever. I’m also kind of terrified of being used at a scratching post. I don’t mind get scratched here or there…it’s going to happen, I just like knowing when it’s going to happen. The other morning Mario stretched without me noticing and scratched down the whole back of my calf. Yes it hurts, but the fear of getting scratched actually hurts more.

It’s unreasonably hard to not talk about them, and when I do, it’s with one of those weird, high-pitched baby voices. I impulsively reach for my phone, the way proud parents reach for their wallet sized pictures of their kids from every year of school ever.  I won’t lie – it has taken real effort and a solid foundation of awesome friends to keep me from becoming “the cat girl” at the bar.

But when I hear the piddle paddle of the kittens racing down the hall way at 1AM, or the twinkle of their little mouse toy, or Mia cries because Mario is beating the crap out of her, I smile and the fact that I just made a 20 year commitment to another life doesn’t terrify me as much.

They're tired of studying too.

They’re tired of studying too.

As far as being a cat or dog person, I don’t think you have to choose a side. That’s right, I said it – I am a dog AND a cat person!  And the next guy I’m with….must love cats.

A Whole Lot of ‘Less’

This is the story of my first first date in 2 years.

I met this guy – let’s call him Paul – at a bus station. We were both on our way back from NYC and started chatting in line while waiting for our bags to come off the bus. He was pretty good looking in the bus station flood lights. Paul told me that he was moving back to the area from Long Island. He asked for my number and on a whim I gave it to him.

The next day he called and asked if I wanted to meet him for drinks that night. I picked one of my favorite bars and a time when it was still sunny outside for us to meet up. Since this date was with a total stranger (defined as not knowing his last name) I took all the necessary precautions of picking a safe, public place to meet, having a friend ready to down to the bar in an hour, parking in front, etc.

This is more like it!

I got there first, picked a high top near the bar, and got a beer. Paul got there on time in a crisp new white tee (I knew it was new because the folding creases from the packaging were visible), khaki shorts, and boat-ish shoes with no socks. He was about as good looking as I remember. Paul comes over and gives me the Long Island cheek kiss hello. He seems a bit frazzled and wants to start talking but I tell him to get his beer (after giving some recommendations) before we talk.

Some highlights of the conversation that follows:

“Sorry I’m sweaty; I had to walk from the bus stop under the bridge. Some guy had to help me find the bar.” OK so he’s car-less – no big deal. He just got into town, it’s better for the environment, I’m not that shallow.

“I’m staying at the City Mission right now, unless I can find a couch to crash on, like yours?” Hmm…. homeless? Everyone has a rough patch or two. I promptly lie and tell him that I have a lot of roommates that would not like a stranger sleeping on the couch. He asks where I live (because he’s looking for an apartment obviously) and I wave my arm in the general “up the hill” direction and change the subject.

“Oh yeah, I’m waiting to hear back about the job tomorrow. I know a guy who needs someone to deliver tires. He’s going to get me a job.” Jobless too? At this point I’m thinking three strikes you’re out, but my beer is only 1/2 way gone so I hold out for more of the story.

Apparently Paul had just escaped an almost drug bust on Long Island. He is also a writer who is waiting to hear if Seth Macfarlane is going to buy his script for a cartoon – and I forget the rest of the story.

Paul and I order soft pretzels (because he is drunk off his one beer) and he asks the waitress if they are hiring. She brings him back an application and – this is my favorite part- he starts to fill it out! On the table, during our date – after asking me for a pen! He fills out a couple lines and says “this isn’t cool huh?” I shake my head and reply “Not cool”.

Paul: folding up the application “I bet you really don’t want to make out with me now. Or maybe you do?”

Me: “Just eat your pretzel Paul”

At this point he realizes I’m only 23 (he’s 32), he also realizes that I’m not going to give him a place to stay, a ride to the mission, or pay for the whole pretzel (we split it, $4 each). I’m thinking about how ridiculous this whole situation is and praying that he doesn’t get the job at one of my favorite bars.

We end with a hug and Paul promised to keep me posted on his job hunt. I wish him luck, start to drive off. I watch him go into the bar across the street to get another application. *Face palm

I called my mom to let her know that I was home safe. She asked if he followed me home, I said that unless he was running after my car I was safe. I never heard back from Paul.

My friends still get a kick out of the time that Chelsey went out with a homeless guy.  I’m convinced that kind of stuff only happens to me! On the bright side, I will forever win the “worst first date” game!