Bad Kitty

Hello all! I hope you are all having a fabulous week!

My boss and coworkers left our entire department in the hands of myself and one other person this week. The good news is that we managed to not burn down the building. The bad news is we may have a new spot on the carpet that may never come out (we might just put a couch over it... in the middle of the hallway).

Because it's Spokane, not Spocan't!

During the chaos of this past week, however, I got the awesome opportunity to be on Spokast! Blake, Russell and I talked about dinosaurs, football, homelessness, PEZ Dispensers and of course "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus!" It was downright magical. If you want to hear it for yourself just click here.

Speaking of "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus," the book received another five star review on Amazon this week, "I learned quickly not to read this book in a quiet area. I laughed so much, and as I held it in, I started shaking and tearing up. I ended up leaving the office, where I was waiting for my son's test to be over. I hope Allison Hawn writes another book!"

Thank you! I love reading reviews like these, they make my little writer's heart do cartwheels, which is impressive since the rest of me can't do a cartwheel to save my soul.

This week I would like to introduce my readers to my two roommates. They tend to be a bit reclusive, are very concerned with their appearance and poop in a box. That's right, I have cats. Meet Voodoo (the black one) and Santeria (the every color one).

For the most part we cohabitate pretty peacefully. Voodoo spends most of her time being immobile, oftentimes to the point where I have to check to make sure she is still breathing. Santeria vacillates between peacefully staring out of the windows to running from room to room for no apparent reason and meowing at blank walls.

Lately, however, I've noticed that my fuzzy little companions have picked up some less than savory habits.

I have tried talking to them about it, but as of yet, I have not noticed any change in their behavior. They seem to hear me, but do not care.

It is out of desperation that I have instead decided to publicize their offenses in the hopes that this will get their attention and maybe they will stop their negative behaviors:

Now that their crimes have been brought to light, maybe we will see a change in their behavior... Who am I kidding? They're cats, they do what they want.

As always, feel free to follow my exploits on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads!

Can it be Called a Death Bed if You're on the Floor?

Hello everyone! (Yes, even those who dare to say that Batman is not a superhero.)

I hope your weeks have been supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Mine was... somewhat... less than that?

I discovered a fact about myself a long time ago: If I am going to get sick, it will never be "a case of the sniffles" or "a low grade fever and some body aches."

No, if I get sick it will start quietly and progress until I look like, and have all the functioning capabilities of, this:

This week I managed to catch something that, like a terrible romance novel, swept me off my feet, and unlike said cheesy book, then pile drove me into the floor.

I was totally fine, until I really, really wasn't. One minute I was sitting in my apartment after work prepping for the next day, the next I found myself on the bathroom floor in this position:

Except, I was far less adorable, I promise. This is where I spent most of Monday night.

At one point during the night I was joined by my cat, Voodoo, who preceded to give me a very inspirational pep talk. I was so sick at that point that it took me a full five minutes to remember that cats can't talk, and this was probably not a good sign.  She had some excellent points though.

I spent the next several days unable to consume much of anything. My biggest triumph in three days was being able to digest water.

Of course, as with all experiences, I learned some important lessons from my little week of sub-human existence.

First off, if you repeatedly try to turn off a light and it refuses to get darker in your room, then the conclusion you must reach is that it is daylight outside and the light is, in fact, the sun. You really should stop fiddling with the light switch and go back to bed.

Don't watch Batman cartoons, cheesy crime shows (such as "Murder, She Wrote," don't judge, Angela Lansbury is awesome) and then a short documentary on medieval armor in tandem. You will have some weird dreams (apparently Angela Lansbury is really good at driving the Batmobile in chain mail, though).

 I also learned that the most dangerous thing for a sick person is to have in her or his apartment at the same time is a fly and two very active kitties.

On day two of my quarantine from civilization, I awoke to find a giant fly doing little circles above my head. I also quickly realized that on either side of my head were my cats, who were staring at the fly with murderous intent.

It took me a couple seconds to realize the predicament that I was in, and by then it was too late.

I now have the little kitty scratches to prove that they did indeed kill that fly.

Thankfully I am back in the world of the living and able to digest food at this point. We shall see what kind of craziness this next week brings as I return to work.

One positive of being sick is that it gave me some time to think of some new contest ideas (which, of course, means free stuff for people). Details will be soon to follow, I promise.

I hope everyone has a flu/cold/death-illness free week! Remember if you wish to follow my exploits on a more consistently posted basis you can follow me on Twitter, Goodreads and Facebook!