Floofcyon (catfinition) – a calm period for cats and other furry creatures.
In use: “The disaster created a floofcyon of togetherness as cats and dogs made room for one another to fit as many as possible into the vehicle, and thus, save them all.”
Botcheck
I botchecked myself (another noun becoming a verb). Verification was returned that I’m a bot.
The results trouble me, of course. If I’m a bot, why have they made me so human? (And who is they who made me?) I don’t need to struggle with weight and mood swings to convince others that I’m human, do I? I know many humans without weight issues and mood swings who seem quite human to me.
Maybe they’re not human.
Also, if they made me a human-like bot, why did they push me to want to be a writer? Was this by original design specifications, or has something gone awry with my wiring? It sure feels like my wiring might be off, with the plethora of crazy dreams I experience and all the muse bullshit that I endure.
After running this information through my systems a few more times, I settled on several questions as more important than the others.
- Who made me, and what was their purpose?
- How long will I be here?
- Am I on assignment, or did I arrive here by accident?
- Finally, most importantly, am I still under warranty?
You’d think that, as a bot, I’d be able to find this information without great difficulty. You’d think that, and you’d be wrong. For some reason, my maker is keeping me in the dark about these things.
Aflooflitionist
Aflooflitionist (catfinition) – someone who campaigns for equal rights for and respectful treatment of cats, dogs, and other animals.
In use: “As an affirmed aflooflitionist, he stood against the Trump administration’s proposed changes to the Endangered Species Act.”
Baking the Novel
First, decide you’re going to bake a cake (write a novel). To start, make a cup of coffee to drink while you conceptualize what you’re going to bake (write).
Come up with a story idea from your concept. Collect some ingredients – characters, setting, initial incident. Start mixing them together (writing).
Realize that you’re missing some ingredients (like motivation, background, and other characters). Make some coffee and hunt for the missing ingredients.
Coming up with the missing ingredients, you add them in, and then decide to make something different (a variation of the concept that just blows your mind with excitement).
Find and add more ingredients (setting, characters, motivation, story twists).
Realize that you forgot to turn the stove on (yeah, you overlooked some huge aspect and now have a gap in the story).
Go to turn on the stove but then stop to pet the cat, and then feed the cat. Smell the kitty litter, and clean it. Also notice that the floor is dirty. Turn on the robot vacuum.
Monitor the robot vacuum, cursing it as it goes around and around a piece of dirt you want it to pick up that you refuse to pick up because that’s why you have a robot sweeper.
Decide to check the mail to get away from the madness. Come back and make coffee, go through the mail (why do they keep sending you this junk?) and also look for something to eat because you’re hungry (even though you just ate, like, three hours ago, but, hey, writing is a strenuous mental activity that drains energy (something that non-writers will never understand!)).
Discover that there’s nothing in the house that you want to eat. Decide to make a shopping list, and then go to the store. (While you’re out, you’ll also stop and fill the car’s gas tank and do any other errands (because you’re efficient).)
Because you’re now too hungry to return home and make something with the stuff bought at the store, go somewhere and buy something to eat right now.
Return home, put away the groceries. Make and drink coffee while thinking about your cake (the novel), nosh on a snack item that you purchased, pick up the stuff that the robot vacuum missed, pet the cat (because he’s following you around and underfoot), give the cat treats (to buy him off), and then —
Brainstorm! Make the frosting because this cake with that frosting would be fantastic (in other words, write an ending because you think it’s the perfect ending).
Remember, you never did turn on the oven, damn it. You missed a huge step.
Realize, this is a layer cake. And you can’t put the frosting on because there’s nothing to put it on.
But you really like that frosting, so you go ahead and make it (write it up) and set it aside for use later, and then — epiphany! — decide every layer will be a different flavor of cake, with a different icing. It’s not really a cake, but a torte, you decide, and then go off to the computer to jump on the Internet to research tortes and cakes.
Check your email. Catch up on Facebook (like, post, and share), Pinterest and other social media, blogs, the news (he said what?) and sports (or fashion). Play some games (because, without acknowledging it, you feel stressed, and games — going for a new high score, or beating others on an online game — gives you instant gratification and validates you).
Turn on the television. Surf channels. Shake your head at the things on television these days. Wonder if some of the actors you’re seeing in the re-runs are still alive. Turn the television off.
Then, oh, it’s late. You’re tired. Another cup of coffee is needed but you’re too tired for that, and it’s too late (where’d the time go?). The rest of the family will be home soon, and there are the things you’re supposed to do with friends and family, going to movies, dinner, cut grass, wash car, clothes, dishes —
Well, you’ll continue tomorrow, you tell yourself. This cake (or torte) is going to be a masterpiece. It’ll blow people’s minds. It’s just so exciting, but there’s so much to do. There are more ingredients to collect, and then it all must be baked, frosted, and put together —
It’s so real, you can see, smell, and taste it. You sit for a while, absorbing the wonder of the cake (or torte) that you imagine.
Tomorrow, you tell yourself, tomorrow will be different. You don’t want any half-baked cake.
Right, you’ll begin by making coffee and listing all the ingredients, and maybe brainstorming all the steps that you need to do to complete this masterpiece, like turning on the oven. Yes, that’ll be the first thing that you do.
Tomorrow.
Floofnine
Floofnine (catfinition) – a cat who thinks it’s a dog, closely related to a canfloof, which is a dog who thinks it’s a cat.
In use: “Weighing in at nine pounds, the tabby floofnine ran with the pack of dogs, eating and drinking from the same bowls, and sleeping as part of one large fur pile.”
Floofcation
Floofcation (catfinition) – taking a break to sit with one or more cats to relax and recover your equilibrium. The term is also coming to be adopted by people taking time away from everything else to be with their dogs.
In use: “Weary with the depressing political news, he took a floofcation, sitting on a chair and petting his cat , letting the cat’s purrs vibrate through his body.”
Overheard on the Street
“Did you hear what happened when the pink ship collided with the purple ship? They were marooned.”
Cordnivore
Cordnivore (catfinition) – a cat (or dog) that likes to eat electric and speaker cords.
In use: “Brad was shocked and dismayed when he went to turn on his phone and saw what his cat had done. The little cordnivore had chewed through every cord at the charging station. Nothing was fully charged.”
Boofloof
Boofloof (catfinition) – cat who likes to hide, and then spring out and surprise people; cat who enjoys playing hide and seek with people. The expression is sometimes used to refer to a dog with similar traits.
In use: “The kitten developed into a boofloof. When he ducked behind the sofa, the cat would race around it, leap at him, and then gallop away and hide behind a plant, waiting to be found.”
Michael Seidel, writer 