And it reminded me of how the bf was very kind to me in my sickness on Saturday; encouraging me to get out of the house for just a little while to clear my head of sickville. And then I got to staring at the Alexander Wang handbag he got me for my birthday this past year. The Coco Duffel.
Pretty little thing, isn't it? And it builds a mean arm muscle too. Those studs are not for the faint at heart.
Whenever I carry the bag, see it in its little dust bag in my closet, or notice someone else carrying one it brings back this memory:
That's one of my cats - Sister Lil; I just call her Lil or the Liller :) Look at her with her crazy cast and her little pain patch that was supposed to stay on for 2 days, but got chewed off in 20 minutes.
When I moved to my second place in LA I was pretty much dying of loneliness, hating my job, and wishing for a pet....then I found my cats living under the house. From my mouth to God's ears!! They had been abandoned and were feral cats, but I was determined to tame them. So I fed them every day and soon they would wander into the house and sit for awhile. Eventually I got to pet the big one (Monkey Boy), but Lil just wasn't ready yet.
Cut to present: These cats have lived with me for 7 years and they are great, loyal companions. Until last year I let them come and go as they please. Until my birthday.
The Chef planned a great, low-key day. He made an awesome breakfast, we went to the spa, we wandered around afterward, we had a great dinner - the whole 9 yards. But he was disappointed because the "main gift" hadn't shown up yet. No biggie. It's on the way, I said. That night we talked about how we should celebrate my birthday all year because it was such a relaxing day.
The next day we were heading out to separate appointments. Lil was under my bed (not uncommon). When I ran back into my bedroom to grab something I saw her leaning up against the wall unable to stand and clearly badly injured. Hence the photo of her in the cast. Picture it: semi-wild cat on death's doorstep, but clearly wanting me to know so I could help her.
She scooted under the bed.
I panicked. I called one vet. And another vet. And a pet ambulance. You know people are not that helpful if you're cat's not entirely tame.
Finally a vet from another cat rescue we had done (found a kitten on the center median of the 110 Freeway that had been thrown out of a moving car in rush hour traffic - now THERE'S another story for you)...well, the rescue vet agreed to do a housecall. They got Lil into a carrier; and x-rays and tests and screens and hours later we found out she had been hit by a car, had a torn ACL at least, and would need major surgery. I was just glad she was alive. Poor thing got the surgery a few days later - again, see the above picture - and was decked out in the season's latest neon for 2 weeks. It was crazy because she had to live in that crate for 6 WEEKS. Can you say drama??
I think I lost 10 lbs.
The night she got her surgery I was a tore up wreck. The Chef came into my room as I was getting ready for bed and handed me a box. I was completely confused and short-fused. I had forgotten about my birthday. When I opened the box there she was: Coco.
I was speechless - which is a rarity. Seriously. I brought new meaning to the term "loss for words" because I was utterly stunned. I mean I have few nice handbags, but nothing of that caliber. And I never expected a fat gift like THAT. And I didn't recall even mentioning the bag more than once except to say something along the lines of I can't believe the likes of Kristen Cavallari is carrying that bag and does nothing while I work my a** off and the closest I'll ever get to it is staring at it through some glass.
Here's a final close up. Thanks for listening to my story...x
ps - how about those shoes?? Damn that Mike & Chris for losing control of the company!!