JENSIZED LAST ACTIVITY IN MEMPHIS TOWN

How do you get a difficult cat in her carrier

By Jen

I would rather get a mammogram in front of a live studio audience than take our cat Trish to the vet.

First I have to open the front door of the house and unlock my car doors so I can get her in the car quickly. Then I have to shut her in the living room (it has the fewest hiding places) and get the carrier out of the closet.

Buddy trots over to the carrier and starts sniffing it. He’s the easy one. For Trish, though, the carrier foretells such horrors as baths and shots and lion cuts. She darts under the sofa.

I try to lure her out with catnip or kibbles. Then I move the couch and chase her around the living room. Despite her girth she’s a lithe little sprinter. I use my size advantage to grab her by the scruff. I’m lucky to escape without scratches. (Eerrrr, many scratches.) Brian holds the carrier open while I stuff her into it and quickly zip the top so she can’t jump back out.

Then I power-walk to the car, strap the carrier to my passenger-side seatbelt and unzip it just enough to put my hand in there. I drive the four minutes to McGehee Clinic with one hand on the wheel, the other stroking Trish’s head while she cries.

About half the time she pees in the carrier. She’s pooped in it twice (only once because she was actually sick). It seems like there’s always a dog being checked in at the front desk when we arrive. Trish’s cries then become growls and hisses.

And that is why her fur is always so matted when I finally summon the courage to make an appointment. I know the mats are painful. We get a lecture every time. But the process of getting her to the vet is always so harrowing and heartbreaking, not to mention dangerous. I’m not sure if it’s more traumatizing for me or for her.

It’s always been this way, no matter what I do. I’ve tried leaving the carrier out for her to nap in so she doesn’t associate it solely with the vet. Buddy slept in it instead … until Trish peed in it. I tried to skip the carrier and put a harness and leash on her. She lodged herself between the pedals and floorboards in my car so I couldn’t drive. I don’t want to sedate her. Besides, if there’s anything more difficult than stuffing a cat into a carrier, it’s getting a cat to swallow medicine.

So, fellow cat people, how do you deal with this? Is there ANY way to make getting in the car less of a nightmare?

Do you ever look through your cabinets and wonder, Why do I have this

By Jen

I took these from work almost a decade ago. WHY?

Read more

My favorite albums of 2012 so far

By Jen

Albums I love this year, so far:

• La Sera “Sees the Light”
• Frankie Rose “Interstellar”
• Tanlines “Mixed Emotions”
• Weird Dreams “Choreography”
• Miike Snow “Happy to You”
• Grimes “Visions”

Albums I do not love:

• Alabama Shakes “Boys & Girls” (is this a Dr. Dog tribute band? Not feeling the hype)
• Shearwater “Animal Life” (some good songs but underwhelming as a whole)

Albums I am still eagerly awaiting:

• Grizzly Bear (out this year, per Ed Droste’s tweets)
• The xx

Here is my Spotify playlist of 2012 songs I’m digging. I’m going to try my best to keep updating it throughout the year as I discover more new stuff.

Introducing Mrs. Clarke (the wedding graduate)

By Jen

© Annabella Charles — thank you for making us look totally amazing!

There is a certain type of woman who begins imagining — and even planning — her wedding when she’s a little girl.

She knows all the details: how many bridesmaids she’ll have, what flavor her cake will be, what song will be playing as her new husband twirls her around the ballroom floor…

I am not that type of woman. I’ve never understood how someone can formulate such a precise, detailed vision without one of the most important pieces of a wedding: the groom.

Once we started planning everything I noticed the things I was most drawn to were the ones that made me say “This is so us.” It’s why when we toured our venue, the Jack Robinson Gallery, I was ready to run to the ATM and take out the deposit money soon after I walked in the door.

It’s why we were sold on our caterer when we saw the words “BBQ nachos” on their menu (and we were affirmed when told we could get Gus’s chicken brought in). And it’s why the idea for our decor was sparked when I looked at a stack of records that’s been sitting next to my desk for more than six months.

I worried a lot, when I lost my job, that we weren’t going to be able to have the wedding we wanted. That didn’t happen at all. In fact I feel like all the help we got from our talented friends and family made the wedding more special. More intimate, even though there were at least 100 people there. More us.

My nerves peaked Friday. We left Brian’s groom’s cake in the car and the icing partly melted while we had lunch at Felicia Suzanne’s. In hindsight, I should have iced it at the venue, but oh well. It turned out fine. (Lunch was amazing, by the way.) My sister was making our cake, and it was taking longer than we’d expected. Our kitchen got trashed in the process.

Before rehearsal I tried to direct a dozen or so well-meaning folks trying to hang decorations and set out tablecloths, and all the people coming at me from every direction made me want to hide in the bathroom and cry.

I spent much of dinner trying not to think about all the wedding booze sitting in the hatch of my Fit, parked on Madison Ave., out there ripe for the stealin’. And later, after we got the venue mostly set up, came the task of figuring out where my car and myself would spend the night. (Would I even sleep? Yes, with a little help from Beale Street libations.)

Saturday, though, I was lucid. I went home and finished packing, stopped at Target to grab some last-minute essentials, fixed Brian’s cake at the venue, told the guys where to put everything else and headed to The Madison. There was nothing left to panic about.

Wait, yes there was. Since we were having a friend marry us, and we wanted a short ceremony, we were writing our own vows.

I hadn’t finished mine. I hadn’t even started them, actually. I was so concerned about choosing the right words that I procrastinated. I knew I’d go through a whole ream of paper trying to come up with the perfect vows.

Eventually my bridesmaids started arriving at the hotel, and the champagne started flowing. I decided to just wing it.

And wouldn’t you know, during the reception several people told me my lack of preparation was what made them get teary-eyed. Brian gloated that for once, he was the one who had his act together.

Either everything ran pretty smoothly that Saturday night, or our friends did an awesome job insulating me from drama and conflict. Maybe there are a few things I would have changed if I’d known better, but everything looked as I’d imagined it would. I danced and drank champagne and St. Germain all night. And then we went to Mollie Fontaine’s and did car bombs. It was the best wedding I’ve ever had.

If I could take a time machine to 11 months ago, here’s what I’d tell newly-engaged me:

• The checklists on wedding websites such as The Knot are helpful but don’t let them run your life. “Your mileage may vary,” as they say. The venue and the photographer are the only things you really need to get on ASAP. Oh, and the groom. (See what I did there?)
• Don’t be afraid to ask for help. You can’t do everything yourself.
• Don’t worry about things you can’t control.
• Late-night trips to the gym are like meditation. Push yourself and go as often as you can.
• Your house will be a total mess for about a month. Try not to stress about it too much. Things will get back to normal eventually.

Wanna see a few photos? Check out our sneak peek.

Whats the difference between a bride and a crazy person

By Jen

Friday night. Wedding’s in eight days. I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by craft supplies, fighting Buddy for a piece of twine. TLC’s every-Friday “BrideDay” marathon is on.

“Jack her up! Jack her up!” I chant at the TV as the bride-to-be examines herself in the three-way mirror. Fashion director Monty clips a veil into her hair.

Gasping, she flaps her wrists to fan away her tears.

Her mom cries.

My own eyes well up.

“Say yes! Girl you better say yes because That. Is. It!” I implore the woman inside the television.

“Is this your dress?” bridal shop owner Lori asks.

“YES!”

“Yaaaaaay!” I squeal, clapping like a hungry seal.

They say getting married changes you, but I’m not sure this is what they meant. Since we got engaged, I have become a person who

• Knows the meanings of the words “bolero” and “fascinator”
• Can decorate a 40×40 room with a stack of old 45’s
• Can do calligraphy
• Watches untold hours of “Say Yes to the Dress”
• Gets misty-eyed during “Say Yes to the Dress”
• Got misty-eyed reading an iPhone pic of the rough draft of the ceremony outline
• Reads wedding blogs (still)
• Fancies herself an eBay/Etsy ninja
• Has considered channeling her newfound craftiness into her own Etsy shop
• Tans
• Impulsively picks up Southern Bride and Martha Stewart Weddings in the grocery checkout line
• Knows her ring will be sized in plenty of time for Saturday but just wants to try it on and hold it and look at it ‘n’ stuff
• Knows it’s probably for the best because she’d probably just lose it
• Settles for Googling images of channel-set wedding bands
• Paces the jewelry-making aisle at Michael’s for a solid half-hour in search of a single bead
• Is having second thoughts about the bead
• Enters online sweepstakes
• Sometimes thinks The Offbeat Bride is a little too offbeat (like, really ?)
• Has said the phrase “This is supposed to be about what I want” more than once (This hasn’t happened much but it gets easier each time you say it)
• Knows the names of several different flowers and which ones are currently in season
• Wants to apologize to all the people she judged for babbling incessantly about their weddings because she totally gets it now