Jerk kitties and wasted ice-cream

My Name is Belle. I'm hear to fuck up your day. 

I swear whenever I start a blog, my life falls apart. It's like the world knows my life isn't interesting enough to keep people entertained, so it throws me some curve balls. Gigantic, infuriating curveballs.

Tonights curveball had me locked outside of my apartment for four hours....phone-less, money-less and most annoyingly key-less. There I was getting ready to go out for dinner, in my usual at home attire aka 99.9% naked when a text came through from a friend asking me to bring his hoodie down to him. After begrudgingly hunting for clothes, I grabbed the hoodie off my bed and was halfway down the stairs when I remembered that due to adventurous Kitty McNuggets roaming around my life I had to shut the door (an odd site in this apartment).

It was when I tried to open said door that I realized how much I just fucked up my night!

After pulling and tugging relentlessly at the annoyingly stable door, I ended up finding a discarded kitchen knife left over from a BBQ and spent approximately 25 minutes jamming it in and out of the lock whilst heaving my body into the door with as much force as I could muster. Nothing.

To make matters worse, I could hear Meow Mix rolling around on the other side, pushing her little firework (yes, literal fire work) around and essentially laughing in my face that she was not the dumb ass who locked herself out!

One hours passed.

No sign of any other life forms (except for the sounds of asshole Kitty loving her love)

Two hours.

I remembered I had a five dollar bill in my back pocket....bought ice-cream (of course)...poor choice, no spoon.

I then proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes using my index finger as a spoon whilst glancing over at the security camera as if I could actually see the people judging me from the other side ...1 girl 1 pint.

Forced to discard remaining ice-cream due to lack of freezing device...devastated.

Three hours.

Mind lost.

Rolling around on the dirty floor, done giving a fuck, hating Kitty.

Eventually my two tiny blond guardian angels appeared to finally allow me access to my own home!

Frenemies.

I imagine this is how Tom Hank's character felt when he finally got off that damn island in Castaway except that instead of pining for Wilson, I was pining for Ben....and Jerry.

Oh the people you'll meet: Minnie (oh fine and Lincoln)

Now before I get started, technically this "person you'll meet" isn't a person. But this is my blog, I make the rules around here so shush.

I must start by saying if at this point in my life I had time for a puppy and my landlord wasn't such a hater of happiness, I would have one....or seven. Unfortunately that is frowned upon as the seven bolded paragraphs on my lease inform me and after setting our roof on fire last summer we tend to tread very lightly around here.

One of my roommates though seems to be an animal magnet. We always have random fury things darting around the apartment (oh and the mice....we have those too...Thanks NYC!) and it's safe to say I tend to get thoroughly attached to the adorable bastards!

This is Maisy. She appeared in a giant Trader Joe's bag one afternoon.

"That looks heavy what did you buy?"

"Oh nothing, it's a cat. I had to sneak her in."

And nothing else was said on the topic, but we now had a cat to play with. She spent the night helping me back for my trip overseas, followed by a brief trip up the ladder to change a light bulb.

Oh and then she destroyed the kitchen.

The Moral of this story is, if you are in the NYC area and ever need an animal deprived girl to  snuggle on your pets for a night or two. I'm your girl!

sidenote: This is Lincoln. 

He also had a little unexpected holiday in our apartment a couple of months before Minnie. At the time we weren't aware of his name and loving named the poor little boy Lola....sorry for the gender confusion, I hope it didn't scare you too much pup.