Cats Again

A few days ago I was napping on the couch. Bob, as usual, had snuggled up in my arms, and after I woke up, I spent a few minutes lying there and petting him. Zooey crawled up with us, and she did something odd: she got right up on top of Bob. Now, she's tiny, so her two little paws on his big old back couldn't have weighed much, but I was still shocked that Bob didn't seem to mind, didn't begin hissing and spitting and screaming the cat equivalent of "OH GOD SHE'S TOUCHING ME." (This is his usual reaction.)

I lay there, befuddled at this new development of voluntary cat contact, and I watched Zowie as she deliberately leaned over, stuck her face in the side of Bob's belly, and bit him. Bob started but didn't move, and Zoe acted as though absolutely nothing had just happened. I waited for the claws, and nothing. Then, Zoe calmly, slowly leaned to the other side, opened her mouth, and bit his belly again. Bob neither hissed nor growled; he merely plaintively meowed, as if asking me for help. I was about to swat Zowie on the head, but before I got the chance, she, quite pleased with herself, turned around, hopped down from the couch, and flounced away.

Nice Day to Could We Start Again, Please?

Among the things I would like NOT to do at the next wedding I go to:

1. Go stag.
2. Sit next to a ridiculously beautiful girl the ushers keep hitting on.
3. Have my phone ring during the middle of the vows. (I would SWEAR I turned it off. I know I tried to turn it off. I suck. At least it wasn't loud.)
4. The awkward small talk with a bunch of people I barely know.
5. Feel out of place.
6. Pictures. Ugh.
7. Slip on the freshly waxed floor of the reception hall and fall on my ass. Embarrassing. Oh well, that (and the frigid weather) made me very glad that I did decide to wear tights.
8. Speaking of tights, I would kill if the eczema on my legs would behave and not flare before an occasion befitting a dress one of these days.
9. Get a headsplitting migraine during the reception and have to leave early.
10. Sleep through the rest of the reception.

This officially beats my friend Lisa's wedding as Worst Wedding Experience Ever. I mean, with that one I didn't have anything to wear, had mono, was too weak to stand during the standing parts of the service, and nearly threw up on the car ride home after we left the dinner early, but at least I had a.) a date, and b.) a total lack of fall-related humiliation.

Honestly, I wish I had fallen at Lisa's wedding instead. At least there I didn't know anyone and wouldn't be reinforcing all my high school classmates' perceptions of me as a clumsy, awkward, dorky klutz. I mean, the perceptions are true, but what I wouldn't give to be graceful.

'Cos We Like Gettin' Paid

I forgot to mention that I have reincarnated myself, again, as a waitress, this time at a steakhouse. We'll see how it goes.

Right now I'm two days into a twelve-day extravaganza of work, so I may not have the energy to write. My shitty neighbors moved out yesterday, heavens be praised, but they also took my stolen wireless connection with them, so privacy and Internet access will not present themselves as readily for the blogness.

My New Wall Art

I am printing and framing these instead of studying for my remaining finals.

Her eye makeup is questionable at times, but I hope desperately that my father loves me that much.