Word meter for Under The Oak Tree! Coming out hopefully soon!

“You hang up! …

“You hang up! No, you hang up!” 

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This is my cat… Wait for it… Meow meow. We were gonna name her Alice, but, well, she didn’t like that name, so I started randomly calling her Meow meow. It stuck, so that’s her official name (Poor her). And contrary to my caption, she is actually not all sweet and cuddly.

My mom (Always bringing home stray animals) found it in her work parking lot. She was sickly and skinny, and was deemed “Too sick for a kitten of that age to live,” but, hey, she made it. And god, is she a monster. 

Meow Meow’s thoughts: I’m going to wait for her to think that it’s okay to pet me… Then I’m going to scratch her arm crazily! 

She also eats like a bloody elephant! 

When she was small, she would have food aggression issues. Yep, I’m still talking about a cat. (I’ll post a video later as proof) Also, she likes to sleep on the fish tank. 

Meow Meow’s thoughts: Maybe, if I sit on here long enough, it will magically open and allow me access to all the swimming food! 

I never actually had a cat before, so I really did not know if this was normal or what. I just think it’s weird. It may be the fact, she learned all she knows, from my dog.

 

ImageMy Bailey boo (The dog)  taught Meow Meow all she knows, and that’s pretty my thoughts on why she is the world’s clumsiest cat.

So to teach Meow Meow how to be a real cat, we just had to bring in ANOTHER CAT. Ugh. But as it turns out, the new cat is the reason that I still don’t think cats are satin  spawn. 

We names him Max. And he’s really sweet.

“I need… THE BALLLL!”ImageWe even bought a cat house for them. This duo made me think of Peeta and Katniss in The Hunger Games, Why? Meow Meow is a total jerk to Max and Max loves her anyways. 

ImageWell, that’s all I have to say for now! Here’s a bonus picture anyhow. Hey! That rhymes! 🙂  

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Dear blog/diary…

Dear blog/diary, 

You know that feeling on your birthday when you just sit there and everyone sings happy birthday, and you contemplate whether you should just sit there stupidly or sing along and sound conceded? Yea, I hate that. And that’s what I’m looking forward to this weekend. 

 Ever since the beginning, I’ve always found that super awkward! I really don’t know why. Guess I’m just weird that way. So basically, all you do is sit there and listen to them sing happy birthday, and sometimes I get all blushy, then my mom points it out and I blush even more. That once even happened with my crush there. Thanks, Mom!!! 

But that’s not the worst part of birthdays,

then 99.9% of the time, you end up getting board games. Or socks. So you have to be all, “Oh! I looove it. Thank you so much!” Don’t get me wrong, I really do appreciate the gesture, but really? I sort of don’t want ancient board games and socks. Get me a…. I don’t know! A picture frame! A poster! Whatever. Even a book! Maybe drawing sets! Those would be really nice.

Then after the party you sit on your couch and have nothing to look forward to for like, months (unless your birthday’s near Halloween, Thanksgiving, whatever, then in that case I am super jealous).

Also, what makes this ten times more stress-full crazy, is that a girl from my old school is coming. Which to some people, is no biggy, for me, it really is. I don’t know how to explain it other than I guess I want them to see that I’m super fricken awesome and stuff. Shoosh yeah! So, I’m going to have to act normal can you believe it?

I can’t.

So now I gotta show them I am still awesome, but ten times more than I was before.

This will be interesting.

Time to think about what I’m going to wear,

Me.   

Hey, world!

Hey, I have absolutely no idea what to say or really how to say it.  But, an intro. seems fit. My name’s Katie, but I like when people call me Nicole or Nicky (My middle name), I love sketching, birds in particular, I like to write stories for fun, And though I may be a girl, I like video games, I have two dogs, Bailey and Ginger a frog who ate his siblings (Nasty frog). And great parents who taught me all that I know, (Quite literally, as I am home schooled) and I love classic rock. There, phew. Awkward part over. Oh another thing actually, I hate when people spell Awkward like this: akward.  < Wrong, people.  Now I’m done. 🙂