More kittens.

Saw Janine riding her sunny yellow bike home from work today in the drizzle. She's amazing. I love hearing her sing. Eric Williams was going to drive by and attempt to pick her up. 

So three kittens.

Large gray one. Might be a panther. At least 9 years older and more advanced than his siblings. Loves nothing more than to frantically scale the couch and your chest and then perch himself on your rack and tenderly reach one paw up to cradle your face. All the while gazing with great concern into your eyes. His name is currently Ouisus. Like Jesus but with the French yes at the beginning. This is due to the fact that I have difficulty pronouncing Juan with a Spanish accent and it sounds more like Hoo Wan when I try. So I have decided that all names beginning in J should feature the "Houi" sound at the front. It is a catchy name for this kitten. Also you can do the Altar Boyz choreography with him in your right hand and then gesture about wildly with him at the appropriate lyric. He has explosive surround-sound bowel movements from time to time. He also weaned himself straight from the bottle to hard food and steak. Love him dearly.

Then there is Maggie's. Maybe. Her name is Betty Draper and that's all there is to it. Due to an incident involving Brett and a piece of trash she took a header off the kitchen counter and as a result looks in many directions at once. This is endearing? 

Betty likes to lie next to you and sleep. Cat. Dullard. Very sweet though. Loves Maggie. Reciprocates the general disregard I feel for her.

SURPRISE!

Surprise is the name of the black creature. Verdict still out on his species with the final three options narrowed down to bat, kitten, and pygmie pygmie cow.

His hair is black with gray undertones and he is SOFT and fluffy and has a tubby tail. He also has the most sturdy set of birthing hips I've seen on anyone in a while. He is light years behind the others in development and looks SHOCKED at all times. He does the Merry Christmas Polka whenever you turn on the dishwasher or dustbuster. He has a very bulbous forehead and walks like Dr. Bailey on Grey's Anatomy. Might craft him a miniscule Ewok suit out of a red mitten or something. Kind of love him as well. Always very cute when anytime you shout "SURPRISE!" a wee black puff comes staggering toward you. He also enjoys seating himself on your foot. Whether you are walking or not.

Have been going to the gym. Enjoy the gym because no one is there who can see. Ginnie and I ride the blazes out of some bikes. She is disciplined enough to do exercises on the bouncy balls but I just end up rolling around and playing whenever I deal with them, so I typically excuse myself to go fiddle around with the weight machines. Took a weight training course in college. That and folk dancing were my gym credits. Hysterical. Cham Pritchard was my instructors name. Spent much more time thinking about that word- Cham- then doing anything else. Is like Ham. Or Chapstick.

Robyn O'Neill sounds amazing at rehearsal. She just stands there and those noises just come out of her mouth. Stands there in pressed slacks, no less.

If anyone knows when the "In the Heights" documentary re-airs, let me know. Looked up when I thought it did, and it wasn't there. Want to see it. I have realized that now when someone asks me what are my dream roles, I have one to lead off with. Usnavi.

Am growing tired of fried chicken. May request baked. Will be happy to go and pick it up myself.

Was a mother for five days last week. To human kittens. Do not need any of those until I am 40. At least. They were exceedingly well behaved. Had extended conversations with the new slipper with eyes named King that Joy keeps out back. Can now perform the entire score to Annie backwards in Italian post-mortem.

The big cat keeps rudely doing his thang in the kittens' litter box. This is an expression of his displeasure. He secretly wants to play with them. But he enjoys the nobility of being long-suffering. 

Today I went to a production meeting. While waiting my turn I drew a picture. Adam was disappointed in me. This is a terrible thing, to have Adam disappointed in me. Will refrain from illustrating production meetings in the future. 

Oh my gosh- forgot- I bottle fed a two week old calf. Was FUN. Was like trying to drag a Buick through polenta. Looked like a deer. Drank a 1/2 gallon of milk in 45 seconds. Then met a bushy kitten who is still not adopted because she cannot get up from lying on her back. This is very comical. Then Debby fed Surprise beer and we went home. 

Must go shower. Drank coffee. Now feel dirty.

Also my citrus stigmata has gone away. Very exciting. Cured by Lisa Kotula's Jergens Hand Lotion.

Only that-

I have very large-pored breasts.

Continued kittens.

In horrible news, my dear Jack Cheese Biscuits is missing. The only thing I can figure is that he fell/jumped/flew off the balcony. But I figure if he was dead I would have found his stiff orange self in the hedge when I got home. Or the neighbors would have. I have put up many signs (very well made by Brett, which is good because mine would have been a pencil sketch) all over the place and gone round to all the vets within a mile or two radius and put them on the lookout. Also craigslist. 

MISS HIM. Have never lost something I was apparently so attached to before. 

But I have not given up. He is pretty crazy and wouldn't know that it should kill him to fall three flights so he probably is scampering around in the sewers giving the rats hell. 

However.

In a very timely move some mother cat had kittens in a prickle bush at SPARC and then left them there. So they are now in a Miller Lite box at my feet drunk and asleep. Yesterday they figured out how to use the bottle. I should lay down a recording of the sucking sounds and pig noises that issue from them. 

There are three. 

One large bushy gray one with rheumatic blue eyes who sticks his tongue out when he sleeps and looks like a koala. He is very vigorous and nurses from everywhere available, like the sofa and my zipper.  He is temporarily named Inappropriate because when I first saw him in his box dying of dehydration he was fighting through the death throes making valiant attempts to nurse off his brother's genitals. I exclaimed "Inappropriate!" So there. Whoever adopts him should probably rename him. Something like Bear. Or Gandolfini.

One small gray one who is apparently a girl and is dainty and likes to mewl and suffer. She always looks like she has a migraine and likes to drape herself pathetically over the nearest side of anything she can stagger to. She is temporarily named Betty Draper due to her suffering. She likes Maggie and Adam a lot. I am relatively disinterested in her.

Then there is a small black thing that might be a bat. He was found way back in the depths of the prickle bushes where his mother had no doubt left him due to his screeching and carrying on. He goes on suicide mission after suicide mission. He is clearly the runt and reminds me of the evil plotting Mogwi that turns into that nasty Gremlin. I like him best. He holds his own bottle when he eats. 

Dirty Dancing is on. I used to love this movie. Now I know what happens so I feel like I am wasting my time watching it.

So anyway. One of the kittens is spoken for- not a specific one, but one.

I am not keeping any of them if I can help it, because clearly if I do, they will turn up dead or vanish in under a year.

Bought the hugest jar of peanut butter I have ever seen the other day. 

I just love opening the windows and listening to the outside. People or birds or parties or rain or whatever. Just LOVE it.