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The Weird Chick

Let’s Get Personal

September 15th,2015


My poor, abandoned site. I have been moving, as I am sure you know since there is that little message all the way down there saying so. Sold my townhouse and am in the process of moving into my grandmother’s house (my avó), which is taking approximately 73454534x longer than the husbear and I expected. See, he is deathly allergic to cats and, almost five years ago when my beloved childhood dog passed away, my dad decided it would be a good idea to get me a cat to soothe the pain. I should clarify that my dad and I lived with his parents from when I was thirteen until I was twenty (although he moved in immediately after he and my mom divorced, when I was eleven), at which point we left because neither of us could handle his dad anymore (my grandfather has had a bad case of raging asshole since forever). We bought a townhouse together, because my dad desperately did not want to rent, but could not afford a home on his own. Anyway, yeah, back to the cat. My dad thought it would be a good idea to get me a cat. Problem being, of his three children, I am the only one who does not suffer from kitty allergies. I may have been the only one who lived with him, but my brother and sister would come over on weekends, and suffer for her cuteness.

When we left my avó’s house, we left my cat behind (her name is Schrödinger Comma-Erwin, by the way) so that my siblings could come visit us and still be able to breathe. Also, avó loved Schrö (whom she called “Shin-ah” because saying Schrödinger with a Portuguese accent is difficult), and she needed at least one friendly face when she lived with a husband who scowled 24/7. About six months after we got Schrödinger, the husbear and I started dating. Due to the aforementioned Mr Grumpypants, I never brought him to my house. Also, you know, he is deathly allergic to cats. After my dad and I moved, I had him over all the time.

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