More reasons to love cats...

On the radio today (my favorite local independent radio station, incidentally, wfpk.org - they stream online and have great music for anyone looking) I heard the DJ talking with someone from the local animal shelter about all the ways cats can help improve your health. I'd already heard about how they reduce your risk of heart attacks and stress in general, but I hadn't heard that the vibrational frequency of a cat's purr can apparently help heal and strengthen bones--both theirs and yours. How cool is that?

Of course, when I first heard it on the radio I thought they were saying that a cat's fur can help strengthen your bones, and I thought hurray, now I can finally justify the fur tumbleweeds that seem to collect in the corners on an hourly basis. I was all prepped to rub that one in my neat-freak sister's face. Alas, my fantasies were dashed when I realized they said purr, not fur, but I'm still pretty jazzed about it.

Anyone else know other wonderful science-y things about why cats rock so much?

The big three (uh-)oh

So I've been dreading turning 30, which I just did this past week (June 1st), but a card someone sent me recently made some really good points that flipped me from dreading my 30s to having something to look forward to.

See, I was dreading 30 because I always thought of it as the time by which I should really know what I'm "doing" with my life--i.e. be on a career path that satisfied me. You'd think, given that I'm working on my dissertation, that fear would be baseless...but I guess I'm just difficult ;) Most people who get PhDs in Rhet Comp go on to be tenure-track professors, but I'm no longer very sure that's what I want to do--while also feeling like I'm too far into my program now to quit without that lovely P(iled) h(igher &) D(eeper) in my grubby little ink-stained hand. But once I finish, I'm not decided on what I'll do with it--and hence, dreading turning 30, with all my attendant imagined expectations of needing to be "mature" and "decisive" by then.

But then one of my uncle's gave me a funny card that said something like "aging is inevitable, but maturity is optional" as the tagline (hurray for optional maturity!). (I included the Einstein pic because it seemed to fit that sentiment perfectly). He also reminded me that, compared to my 20s (during which time both my parents died unexpectedly), my 30s had plenty of room for improvement.

So my new goal is to stop seeing my 30s as a cause for the dreaded side of growing up, and instead as an opportunity: to be as immature as I want (in that fun, dance on the table way, rather than the stupid teenage boy kind of way, that is). On that note, I went to Dave & Buster's to play lots of skee-ball and other ridiculous games on my 30th--and enjoyed myself more than I have in ages.

Has anyone else found stereotypical stiff-upper-lip maturity to be terribly over-rated?

Feature Fridays: Lazy T Crochet

Lazy T Crochet is this month's featured EtsyBlogger, and I've fallen in love with this adorable green cloche hat in her shop.

This news would shock my younger fashionista sister, who is convinced that I'm scared ****less of color, since most of my wardrobe is grey, navy, black, or dark brown--but I'm trying to expand my palate, and this bright green beauty is awfully tempting.

LazyT also has a cute blog, through which I learned about Wordle--are you familiar with this lovely time waster yet? If not you might try paying it a visit :)