In 11 minutes, it will have been exaclty a month since my last post.

So I have a cat (don’t tell my landlord) and his name, before we adopted it, was Spot. Now it’s Tiger, but my friends call him Scoop. And most times I call him…her. So a few minutes ago, I curled up next to my purple wall, on my ever so cement-like mattress, and began to write this:

“I’m locking myself in my room, and not coming out until this blog is posted upon.”

And then I heard crash, boom, bang.

Dang it, Scoop.

I somewhat understand his rampant freak outs. Heck, if I had so many identity changes and lived in a tiny New York apartment, I’d flip out too. Oh wait…

But really, sometimes I feel like we’re one in the same, Spot/Tiger/Scoop and I. I know I don’t get called eight names or the wrong gender, but I’ve totally led 3 different lives in the past year- sorority girl, traveling (wannabe) hippie, working woman.

I’m not about to break all my kitchen dishes over it though, so someone’s gotta teach this cat how to deal.

Anyways, now that the broken glass from my favorite dollar ninety-nine cup is cleaned up, I’ll get back to this here post.

Up until last week, my room was only 42% done. Now it’s at around 90%. The remaining 10% will most likely never get done. What’s to note here is the stimulus behind that 52% increase: My parents! They came up to visit this past weekend! Hallelujah and a half.

I talk to the folks too many times a day, and I share basically all my stories with them, so it was great to show them what on earth I am ever talking about. The first night I hosted my first “rooftop party.” My parents had a few ol friends come, and I had a few new friends come. I love, love, love these new friends so I was all too excited for them to meet the Tasmans.

Their conclusion: You look just like your father, but you ARE your mother.

Oy.

The next few days and nights, we did the usual touristy stuff-Central Park (and the zoo!), Broadway Show, the High Line, yadda yadda. And OF COURSE, I picked up a few new outfits along the way. I also had three regal sleepovers in their hotel, and managed to steal a year supply of shampoo, conditioner and body lotion from the maid’s cart.

It was the perfect “staycation”… though I shouldn’t have tempted my body with such a comfy bed. It’s pissed at me now as I’m back on the brick box.

Over a bagel and cream cheese before work on Tuesday, it was a tearful goodbye. Such a great weekend, with such a great mommy and daddy! I miss them tons already.

And I missed this blog. I’ve got way more, but working woman’s got work in the morn.