The cat in the petticoat

I've had many pet projects in my life. For instance I've tried making flavored butter out of whipping cream. I've had my hand at designing business cards for friends who don't own a business, but just want something "nifty" to give to people they meet at bars. None of these ventures were terribly productive. But at the very least they gave me topical, somewhat personal fodder to tell my Grandma when she asks me, "What have you been up to?"

For those of you who don't know, my grandmother is a deeply private woman who has little tolerance for things like "emotions" or "problems" or "issues." She'd rather hear about the everyday meanderings if my hideously boring job. I, on the other hand, love to talk about my "emotions." My "problems" and "issues" are the common subject of my sometimes hilarious self-degrading humor. Most people in my age group appreciate this. My grandmother, on the other hand, survived the Great Depression. In her estimation, I'm kind of a whiner. And in my estimation I should learn to shut the hell up.

However, none of the strains of our relationship have impeded my desire to "connect" with her on a personal level. The forum in which I've chosen to do this generally involves me telling her about my little ventures in the hopes that she will one day see me as the brave pioneer of entrepreneurship that I know that I am.

The other day when we were visiting and she asked me "what have you been up to?" I couldn't help but bring up "Cats in Petticoats" in the hopes that she might appreciate it's artistic irony.

"Well, Grandma," I said, "My friend N. and I have started a blog."

"What's a 'blog'?" my grandmother inquired.

"Oh, just a series of writings that people post on the Internet," I answered.

"What's it about? Food or something?" She asked.

This one response had me excited by the possibility of several follow up questions, so I replied, "It's called Cats in Petticoats. But it's not really about Cats who wear petticoats. It's about, you know, being a square peg in a round hole and all those situations in life that make you feel out of place and like nobody understands you...."

Just then I looked beyond my Grandma, who was preparing her "something ain't right with this girl" face, to my cousin who had been listening in the background and had prepared his own face. His face said "Cease and desist, my friend. Cease and desist."

My voice trailed off and I stared blankly at the two. How could I save this situation? So, I said the only thing I could. The only thing that would make sense to my 80-yr-old tormentor. I said, "We might dress up cats and take pictures of them and post them. We might do that too."

My Grandma chuckled a bit to herself and looked at me, "Well, that would be funny. If you did that, that would be really funny."