Where do porcupines live in the winter?

Last night.

Oh I just noticed I have a big pink stain on my dress. Is probably popsicle.

I went to see "Fully Committed." Had a very fetching date (MV) in a sky blue shirt and ivory slacks. That sounds mysterious. We ate globs of mozzarella cheese, fried green tomatoes and crab dip. Also I had diet coke, which I received free.

Got some tomatoes as well, which leaked all over my crotch in the car and made for a real-conversation starter of a stain.

Saw Essie. I complimented her on her necessary cow pin with three pearls dangling as udders. Thought, "I would love to wear that."

After the show, she gave it to me. Which was the most wonderful thing in weeks. Put it right on.

Jill Bari wants it now.

Have named it Esther.

Scott was stupendously excellent.

There. I've said a nice thing about him. That'll be that.

Robert Throckmorton was there. He always looks so nice. And expensive. White slacks.

Also so funny. Feel like I have an in with some important titled people in England because I know him.

Want to bring my whole family to see it.

The show, not Robert. Boy, that'd be awkward.

Though it was a very different experience watching him do it as opposed to just listening to him do it from the floor with my eyes closed. Wantatuba had choreography I wasn't mentally prepared for. No matter. She still made me clutch my cheeks and chortle.

Anyhow. I didn't go to softball this morning as I was out rather late eating pie with Wendy and Michael and arguing with Scott. Also I woke up at the crack of 6am certain that someone was locked in my bathroom. Trapped. I heroically sprang out of bed and ran around to the door and knocked smartly.

Wasn't trapped.

Admired the sunlight on the wall and hardwood floor as it looks so beautiful at that hour and not again during the day. Then went back to sleep.

Surprise sleeps between my jaw and my shoulder. He loves me.

I have done quite a collection of astoundingly peculiar things in my sleep. Woke up once kneeling on the side of the bed with my face pressed to the wall hissing like a snake. Loudly. Was, I think, convinced I was Harry Potter.

Also once woke Brett up clapping my hands and squealing "Oh look! Oh look! My collection!" Woke up, realized I had been sure I had designed my final collection for Project Runway based around my Carebear that sits at the head of the bed. He's the grouchy one with thunder on his tummy. I also had a big yellow Carebear when I was small with a cupcake on his tummy. I don't remember him from the books.

Grouchiness and cupcakes.

It's a beautiful day.

Just went over to feed Lola and Betty Draper. Betty Draper greeted me with lots of bites and scratches so I kicked her across the room. That got through to her pretty well. I think Maggie is more tender in her discipline. Betty then draped (ahahaha) herself all over me with licks and purring and then nestled down to sleep on my back. I am dozing off as well when I hear SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK!

I roll over and notice that she has gotten a good fourth of her tail down her throat and has been cheerfully sucking it for all it's worth.

Now- this is a recurring problem. When kittens are very young, they are blind, and all they do is nurse and sleep. And fall off of high counter tops, but that's beside the point.

You just put the bottle in their mouth and off they go. Well, Betty really liked the sucking action from the bottle. Soothing to her.

Also- when kittens are under 3-4 weeks old they have to be stimulated to cause them to use the bathroom. This is typically done by the mother, who licks them in their "AREAS."

But when you raise them by hand you have to do it. With your mouth.

Really with a paper towel.

But back to the blind thing. When I would leave the kittens alone in their box they would be asleep. Then I would come home and there would be pee and poop all over the place and Surprise would by lying prone on his back with a look of shock (hence the name) on his face. Betty would be right there between his legs going to town.

In her blindness, she mistook his junk for a nipple. Which in turn, made him pee and poop with no end in sight.

And this was not something I could ever get her to stop. It was like sharks after a hemophiliac.

You would just have to grab her and toss her across the room.

Thought that she had outgrown this habit. Nope. That is what she is doing with her tail.

Loud. Can't nap through it.

Debra and I are going to wear our brightly colored woolies to the cabaret tomorrow.

I'm starving.

Boar vagina.

So a game I like to play is to come up with outlandish ideas for what the secret ingredient would be on Iron Chef America.

This is a fabulous game.

Just try.

The title is one example.

Also I like to think how I would be on that show and the ingredient would be swordfish and the commentator would be so confused watching me plate bowls of Fruity Pebbles and Pop-Tarts and just laying a whole entire swordfish over top of all of my plates.

I have never eaten lobster. I would like to. Imagine it might taste like shrimp.

I really want to go to IHOP. Am all for getting a bunch of us together and going.

Oh the sky is lovely tonight. Is lavender with balls of pink.

Went to see "The Hangover" today. I laughed very much. I also enjoyed that my party was the only party in the theater. I always secretly hope that will happen and it hasn't til today. But then I do think it takes away a bit from the movie-going experience when you do not have to whisper.

Apparently such a thing exists as "mashed potato soup." I just got very excited.

I imagine one would have to use an awful lot of quail eggs to make a decent sized omelet.

This has turned into an all about food blog. Should be on Janine's page.

Am trying to read "Love in the Time of Gonorrhea." Have yet to get hooked, though the description on the back seems promising.

I'm hungry now. Must decide what to do about that.

Ok.

ALL THIS IS MEANT AS HIGHEST COMPLIMENT. I HAVE NEVER BEEN ONE TO FEEL THAT ANY OF THE HOUSES HAVE AN INHERENTLY NEGATIVE CONNOTATION.

My reasons could be as simple as I think you would look good in the house colors.

And why would I have put you on here if I didn't hold you in high regard. I wouldn't.

Harry Potter House Assignments:

RAVENCLAW

Paul Deiss

Brett Ambler
Emily Becker
Richard Koch

Ali Thibodeau

Jon Perez
Susan Sanford

Maggie Roop

Rachel Abrams

Frank Creasy

Lisa Kotula

Aly Wepplo

David Janeski

Erin Thomas

Deb Clinton

Robin Harris-Jones

HUFFLEPUFF

Durron Tyre

Joe Doran

Jen Meharg

Ellie Atwood (Hufflepuff Homecoming Queen)

Fern Rivadeniera

Peggy Thibodeau

Sean Dunavant

Cory Williams

Matt Shofner

Tony Foley

Jennings Whiteway

Michael Vandergrift

Alia Bisharat

Jacquie O'Connor

Brandon Becker

GRYFFINDOR

Hannah Zold

John Story

Tom Width*

Joseph Papa (though he yearns to be in Hufflepuff)

Robyn O'Neill

Ginnie Willard (Captain of Quidditch)

Chase (descended from long line of Hufflepuffs)

Wendy Gentile
Lucas Hall

Eric Stallings

Drew Siegla

Sandy Dacus

Adam Dorland

Joy Williams

Hanna Clinton

Mary-Page Nance
Vicki McLeod

SLYTHERIN

ROBIN ARTHUR (how I managed to forget that one)

Sam Pinkleton

Katrinah Lewis

The Debra

Janine Serresseque (the hat had trouble with this)

Matt Hackman

Joe Pabst

Michael Hawke

Mackenzie Mercer

Eric Williams

Sean Williams

Jill Bari

Chris Stewart
John Hagadorn

AMPLEBUFFER

Audra Honaker

Jason Marks- Choir Teacher at Hogwarts School of Wizardry.

Ford Flannagan- Defense Against the Darks Arts teacher

Steve Perigard- Greenhouse tenderperson. Can just see him with his snips. In green.

Robert Throckmorton- Minerva McGonagall

Scott Wichmann- House Elf

I was watching an episode of The Office yesterday online and it was having trouble "buffering" so I thought, I bet if I went up to the tv and pressed my chest against it it would be amply buffered.

Then realized "Amplebuffer" is a top-notch name for a Hogwarts house. And that I would be in it. And the hat would cry out (very confusedly) AMPLEBUFFER! And Audra Mason is the only one in this house! AND- she's a Muggle! How did she get in here?

And then I would have to sit at my own small round table in the great hall and eat pancakes at meals.

And I would have a cape with glitter and kittens and hippos on it.

And my lost cat Jack Cheese would be my owl.

And because I was a Muggle, I would have no spells, except for the spell "AGOIGUM!" which I will scream as I run up to you and yank down your pants.

Everyone there will be very annoyed by me.

And when I somehow get into Diagon Alley, I will go to the wand store and Mr. Ollivander will excuse himself upon meeting me to run across the street to the Weasley's toy store and buy one of those oversized pencils like we used in "Urinetown." He will present this to me and tell me it is "pine with a core of graphite." And I will wave this around and have it next to my plate when I eat.

I am very pleased with this.

If I have forgotten anyone, or if you would like to be re-sorted, do let me know.

Twisty hookers.

I've been convinced it was 7pm since 2:30pm this afternoon. Remain so.

Is probably due to the rain.

Surprise has completely exhausted himself and is napping in my face. When he gets to this point, I could shut him in the freezer and he wouldn't flinch.

Tonight is Sam's birthday. We forget about each others' birthdays every single year.

Almost threw out my grandmothers' engagement ring today. ACCIDENTALLY MOM. I was horrified. Have been wearing it since. Though I don't usually wear jewelry and it makes me feel like my hand is caught in a can opener.

Hannah is coming over to have a True Blood catchupathon.

Who thinks I should get bangs?

I'll tell you what. It is not my favorite thing to perform the solos of large black tenors with lovelorn sincerity.

It IS one of my favorite things to perform "Agony" from "Into the Woods." Have always wanted to perform that somewhere. With Russell or Sam.

Guess this reality show: So You Think You Can Corn Darts.

Hannah and I are going to walk over to 7-11 before I turn nasty.

I "can" stay up later than Chris.

Had a very relaxing day today of doing nothing irksome and seeing very few people. Not that I don't like seeing people. 

Had a sleepover last night. I love waking up at other people's homes. Like when I house-sit and such. Washed Joy's tights. Sat in Adam and Maggie's den for half an hour. Went home. Napped with Surprise. Made dinner. Went for walk. Laughed a LOT. Had my shoe tied. Wrestled in the grass. Watched "True Blood." 

Now typing.

Sometimes wish I could be awake while I sleep as to more thoroughly enjoy myself.

I think the whole male hairstyle/gel thing is extremely out of hand. 

I really want to brush my teeth.

Brief.

Just went to see HARRY POTTER AND THE ELEVENTH GRADERS WHO WOULDN'T STAY OUT OF THE ATTIC.

It was very good. Might have liked it partially because other people said they didn't. But I liked it.

Really liked all the scenes about the romances and stuff.

It is Kid's Jeopardy this week. Furious.

Want Alex Trebek to be embarrassed. That's very mean of me.

But he does have on a nice tie.

Do not like chihuahuas.

Is all I have to say at this time.

Thirsty.

I keep forgetting that Margaret and I have painted our toenails neon colors. So every time I remove my sneakers I am surprised and feel sassy.

Saw a deep red luscious looking birthday cake that was shaped like a lobster in a window on my walk tonight. WANT THIS CAKE FOR MY BIRTHDAY. Anyone who cares to remember that may. Was reminded of how much I like walking at night and seeing things in windows and in the sky and on people's porches and whatnot. Did that one night in Chicago by myself. Was so lovely. Saw lots of lit up bushes and other things that I wanted to send friends pictures of when I saw something someone in particular would particularly like. 

Also this beautiful cloud over Willow Lawn tonight. Looked like a brain. Was pink and wrinkled and rumply and just beautiful. Took a picture with my phone. In phone picture, looks like a thumb.

My downstairs neighbors are obviously renting that apartment for use as a recording studio and nothing else. Do not understand how one thinks it is ok to play electric guitar and sing into a microphone at 3 a.m. in a building with 12 other people trying to sleep. Do not mind at all during the day. Up to a point. Find it humorous. I think they have played a grand total of 5, maybe 6 chords since they landed here a month ago. Occasionally someone will come by to play who is very good. Also they have trumpet. But have honestly seen eight or ten people going and coming from that apartment, never the same person, and tonight was behind a girl trying to go in the front door with a key (doesn't require a key-- the DOWNSTAIRS DOOR Robyn) who had on those shorts that display 3/8 of the lower portion of one's fanny. Blonde hair, eyes that were looking everywhere all at once. Entered the foyer. I sprang past her with a cordial smile and last I saw she was crouched on the tiles muttering curses to a pizza box. 

Went to camp this morning. Wanted to stuff all the children into a hamper. But it is always those days that wind up being the most fun. Practiced their songs once, then got them all up on the Driving Miss Daisy set and forced them to learn the dance break to "God Put The Rhythm in Me" from Altar Boyz. This went over VERY WELL. Some of them thought I was "cool." Others kept tugging on my shorts asking through their panting if we could please play something called Kitty in the Corner. I do not play this. Do not know what it is, but do not play it.

Is probably a result of whatever made me absolutely terrified to play such things as Duck Duck Goose growing up. Unplanned interaction TERRIFYING then. Still sort of. But regardless, still that sort of game makes me want to gargle caulk.

Really enjoy using caulk to frost prop cakes. Like pressing caulk. Also like pressing all the meats in the packages in the grocery store. Love that. 

Went for long walk today. Walked to the bookstore, purchased magazine and then came back by the GameStop where I wandered in to see if Scott could putt-putt me the rest of the way home but he said he will be working til one. So I hung out in there for awhile with him and Petty Officer Wanker. Now- Scott will tell you that he has been telling me this man's name is Winker all along. Untrue. He's been talking about him ever since he began morphing into a navally person and calling him Wanker. Then I see his nametag and it is Winker. He immediately asks me if I am from Britain. 

The staff of the GameStop and I carefully analyzed the Mary-Louise Parker photo spread in Esquire magazine wherein she is holding pies wearing only an apron. I had been hearing buzz about this article so was disappointed to see that in this shot I'd been hearing about her fanny resembled a mostly depleted baggie of pudding. 

Still really want to go to a Japanese restaurant. If anyone likes that food, holla.

Bunions. Chipmunks.

The bunions part of that title has absolutely no significance. I was laying on my back on the porch and suddenly I thought "bunions." 

Now that I've thought of that though, my Nana had bunions. I remember her talking about them. Hannah has a cool little round mushroom looking thing on her second toe that pops up whenever she wears close toed shoes. I don't know if that is a bunion. 

As to the chipmunks, there are 45 million of them on Monument Ave. And they are fighting and running and biting and chattering and carrying on. I see them when I walk. Everywhere.

There was a party last night. 

The kitten is on the table. I've decided not to worry about this. 

At the show yesterday evening were the Resnicks- this was discovered when a beautiful shiny bag full of plump cinnamon muffins was delivered backstage before the show. I squeezed a bunch of them, and after curtain call, took one out into the lobby to eat while I went to find Mrs. Resnick to thank her and compliment her on her muffins. 

So I am standing there like a squirrel with crumbs on my face and my cheeks stuffed to popping with muffin scanning the crowd for Mrs. Resnick. I do not see her. Am not completely sure I remember what she looks like. Then Chase starts talking to me, and Hannah, and then this other woman comes up and compliments us on the show and I am chatting with her, eating, thinking where in the hell is Zak's mom? But I never see her, so I figure she has left. 

Drew informs me at the party later in the evening that the woman with whom I had been chatting was Mrs. Resnick.

Oh well.  I have seemed rude. And completely like I hated her muffins.

Now the kitten is straight-up eating my ponytail. What a jerk. That'll be a hairball that'll scour the surface off his liver.

Hungry. Want shrimp risotto.

Then there was a celebratory opening night party at some cast members'** house. This was fun. Maggie and I eventually steeled ourselves against the memory of screaming babies and toddlers who are aggravatingly selective about their pajama bottoms enough to cross the threshold.

Oh- backtrack. Went to softball yesterday. The turnout was really something else. At least 75 people all merrily stretching wearing their best gear being jovial and pert and quipping and jesting to beat the band. To death. This is of course all fantastic, except I had gone to bed at three thirty the previous evening (for professional reasons) and was not feeling quippy. 

Oh now I just made a new word. I like that one. Might name something that.

Ford aimed each and every hit straight at my head. This is always very invigorating. Scott accused me of approaching the plate like Rue McClanahan. I don't know how he would know that, but it wouldn't surprise me if he has some sort of Badgering Outreach Program that operates on West Coast as well and he's managed somehow to get her to come out for a game.

Anyhow, I left very shortly after I arrived and went home. Slept for four months. 

Party.

Now, everyone knows that there are iguanas and old women and polio living in the basements of some of these sorts of houses. However. Our hosts for the evening have turned this one into quite a gem. Perhaps a gem one could easily find on discount at Claire's Boutique, but a gem nonetheless. The back porch a necessary cozy haven with lots of plants hanging from the roof (that had flowers on them) and a awesome little garden of all sort of spicy peppers. Also tomatoes, lettuce, and strawberries. I was very impressed. Have decided when I have space for it I will grow some planty stuff.

There was a homemade green salsa which everyone loved, a bowl of real live cherries, which I don't prefer because I prefer maraschino; vegetables, burgers, hot dogs. All sorts of stuff. I took a shot of cherry vodka out of a tupperware. Went into the bathroom to do it because when I take a shot my face screws up into a horrible grimace that I can't undo for sometimes upwards of ten minutes. And no one needs to see that after ten pm. It smelled really good. Tasted really bad. Knew it would. Alcohol tastes BAD.  But I'm a sucker for cherries, so thought I'd give it a swallow. 

Then Drew and I stood over top of the food inhaled an entire bag of tortilla chips and debated the necessariness of some of the acting techniques he is being presented with at Juilliard. I am convinced that Drew and I between the two of us could eat all of Thanksgiving. All of America's Thanksgiving for the year 2009. For snack. 

Frank Creasy was there, which was awesome, because as Adam pointed out, "he's Frank Creasy."

Beyonce came on tv and most of the cast stood three inches from the screen and jiggled and moaned and locked for about ten minutes trying to dance like her. 

Also have come to the conclusion that I need the new Black Eyed Peas cd and a black leather bodysuit. 

Chris Stewart stood in the kitchen, leaned against the counter and delivered a soaring, inspiring speech on his valiant struggle with insomnia which he has been losing for the last 20 years. I am always impressed with insomnia. Do not think I could do it. Ten minutes later I went to find him and he was asleep never to be heard from again. 

Chris and I also did a fine flip yesterday. Hannah helped. Part of why Hannah is terrific is because she will tell you exactly what she thinks about anything in such a way as to make you agree completely and take no offense. She will say, for example, "You really should stop blinking for three weeks and starch and iron your kitten because you will look ridiculous if you don't," and I will think, "my goodness, she's exactly right." 

She actually says honest HELPFUL things.

But she said that the flip looked crazy and out of control because my legs were coming apart and I was landing on one foot. I explained my logic behind this- 1. no one ever taught us how to do it. 2.if the first foot misses, at least I have the other one coming round that will also have a chance to hold me up. But this is a flimsy excuse for sloppy flips, so I went out there when the time came and stuck my legs together hard as I could. 

We were like Shawn Johnson. Stuck our landing. Stood up and Chris was beaming. 

Really want to go to Verry Berry.

Also we did a midnight show the other night. Which I thought was going to be a performance of Summer of 42 and actually turned out to be a performance of The Michael Jackson/Phish/Jesus Christ Reunion Tour '09. At least that is what it sounded like.

I scuffled into the lobby following the show, scowled at everyone, drove home, tucked Surprise into my cleavage and fell deeply asleep.

Also there was one point somewhere past 2am where I found myself using the women's restroom with Ginnie and Chase. 

Will now eat my Santa Fe beans and rice. 

Good party. 

Fourth of July

Why people publish many many photographs on facebook of things like fireworks and buildings that everyone has already seen pictures of escapes me. Unless you are a talented photographer like Robyn O., or the day you are viewing the Eiffel Tower there happens to be a ladder of kittens hanging from the top, we do not need to see these pictures. Should put yourself in them, or just not post them. I think.

I love kissing Surprise's salt and pepper belly.

So today.

I had EVERY INTENTION. EVERY INTENTION SCOTT of going to softball. Then I opened my eyes this morning, thought it was raining. It wasn't. Realized I was disappointed. But I knew Hannah would string me up by my nipples if I backed out of going, so I was just lying there, resigned, when I received a magical completely out of character text from Hannah saying that she didn't want to go anymore. I latched right onto this.

Now, I LOVE going to softball. I love to play softball, I love to bat and catch and throw and- well, the running I could do without, but I love to go. However I considered that I could use as an excuse the fact that I took a header into a pile of rocks last night and rolled over three times before scudding to a stop giggling like a loon. Could say I had damaged my knee. But this was not true, I was fine and I realized I didn't want anyone thinking I was some sort of delicate flower.

So that all worked out. Received a minorly scathing voicemail from Herr Wichmann which I disregarded completely and deleted before it finished playing. Idle threats.

So got up. Received text from Robyn and Ginnie inviting me to take the dogs to the river. I was game, but didn't know what that meant specifically. In my family, this sort of thing means packing up six coolers, washing the car, making hotel reservations, getting someone to feed the cat and stopping at Hardee's for breakfast. Robyn said we could be back in two hours, which worked out well, as I had long standing plans with myself to make very impressive cinnamon rolls.

So we go. I take Surprise downstairs when they arrive to show Ginnie, as she took a shine to him weeks ago and would have adopted him if she could have gotten it by her boss. This went over fairly well, with only one choking hiss issuing from the kitten when he was nearly eaten by the German Shepherd.

We go down to the Pony Pastures. The dogs all poop immediately, except for Piper, who doesn't poop anywhere over the property line. Alice feels it her obligation to poop everywhere she goes. Bella is just permanently overstimulated.

I told R+G walking Alice is like walking a hot dog bun. You would understand.

Today the bottom of the river was covered in slime and grease. This is fun to me, because when I am not (in my imagination) nimbly scampering from rock to rock like Pocahontas from the movie, I can crawl around from rock to rock like some sort of scary forest hunter. Bella swam all over the place. The whole time making noises like she was passing a cantaloupe. Alice momentarily forgot herself and swam out a goodly ways. Then realized it and promptly became a cement statue mid-marsh.

Piper doesn't do the swim thing.

So after much mud and bleeding, we went back to the car and I was taken home.

I showered, didn't wash my suffering hair because I had forgotten to get shampoo, and put on what I considered to be an appropriate sundress for baking in my kitchen.

I then watched two episodes of "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant." This show is hysterical. Not because of these situations people find themselves in, but because of the acting that is required to reenact those situations. Also the stunt babies that are cast are comparable to large Butterball Turkeys. Then the narrator will say, "Miraculously, at 12 weeks premature and only 4.36 ounces, Baby Timothy was healthy." Then they show "Baby Timothy" overflowing his mother's arms and learning how to ride a bicycle.

So then I had to go buy yeast. Which Tom likes to remind me at all times are bread farts.

So then I go home and make these buns. Made dough. Dropped 13 pounds kneading dough for twenty minutes. Then flung the dough out mashed it up into a rectangle, covered it with unspeakable amounts of butter and cinnamon and rolled it up. Baked it over at a friend's house where I was invited to grill out. Weren't that good. Were fine. I shouldn't have put them in the oven. Always I prefer dough over baked dough.

At this party were many U of R graduates. Many "men" wandering around secretly being 23 wearing mauve seersucker shorts delicately embroidered with masculine icons like foxes and shrimp.

Lots of girls in "sexy tops." Some very nice people. I talked to a lot of them. I was very pleased with myself. I ate my first rib, and got myself arranged to help a new friend of mine gut one of his kills next hunting season.

There was a very nice middle-aged man there passing out glow-sticks. I got one.

Also a kicking game of what appeared to be THROW THE FRISBEE IN THE FLOOR AS HARD AS YOU CAN taking place in the back alley. I spent a lot of time observing this.

Hannah was at a party across the alley. She and I and John and Paul Major met up and walked over to the goose pond in Byrd Park to view the 'works. I loved that. Those hateful nasty conniving geese were all marooned out there on their crappy little island because they were out-numbered by people. Hah. Nasty hateful geese. They will try to kill you.

The fireworks went like this: Firework. 90 seconds. 2 fireworks. 120 seconds. 3. Several bursts of three in a row. The end.

Walked back to the car accompanied most of the way by someone's very drunk fiancee in a yellow dress and overdone eyeliner speaking dramatic French to a four year old boy who had no interest in discussing anything other than the fact that he had made the decision to propose to his cousin.

Drove home. Went over some really big holes in the alley. Love that. My father used to drive the church bus to pick up and take all the kids to choir practice and I would always sit in the back row and holler "GO FASTER OVER THE BUMPS, DADDY!"

My hair REALLY hurts.

Some people may not understand what I mean by this. Maggie does. Isn't my hair, I suppose, but my scalp. Also might be more noticeable in people who have hair weighing the same as a backhoe.

And it's not dirty. Just washed yesterday.

I don't wash my hair everyday- some people find this gross. But it takes my hair 8 hours to dry and every time I wash it I get comments like "What happened to you?" every time I see someone.

Betty Draper Droop went to the dentist today. Didn't. Typing without thinking. The vet.

She was declared in pristine health, which secretly made me feel proud as I managed to raise at least that one without it contracting camel nuclear cirrhosis or something. No feline HIV, no nothing. Got her nails trimmed.

Might look into how long it takes to become a vet. If this is something I can get done in the afternoons, I might be into that.

At this vet on Patterson Ave. there are at least thirty tanks and cages in the lobby containing beautiful cats and buff colored kittens, a big ugly turtle, lots of fat snakes and fish the size of footballs.

I immediately signed Surprise up for a visit next week. At this visit I am hoping they will inform me of his species. Also he is now registered officially as Surprise Honaker. I feel this has an interesting ring to it.

Jason has begun going to the chiropractor. I feel this merits a mention.

Tomorrow I am going to make cinnamon rolls. In my house. For the Fourth of July. So if anyone comes by before seven people come by, they may have one. These buns will not have raisins and nuts. Waste of dessert, putting fruit in.

My mother told me I used to call bananas "Ba-nahs." In a British accent. Not on purpose, but I was a baby and didn't know. Also said "leyow." This is still say from time to time without thinking. Also sometimes I confuse green and orange when I am talking.

Sometimes I just would like to throw things at people when they are unsuspecting. Like pillows. Some people would not like this.

Everyone should go to Stage 1 if for no other reason than to sample the buffet.

Bev Kniffen has made this chocolate chip bundt cake for years and it is moist like juicy kitten polenta and amazing. And she makes it for sale behind the lobby bar.

Side note- I do not like saying that word "bundt" to people. If I go somewhere and order a small bundt cake, I will get very nervous and embarrassed and order it by gesturing toward it instead of saying anything.

When my hair hurts this badly it makes my teeth sweat.

If anyone wants to have splendid dessert tonight, call me. I want it, and am not sure where I am going to get it. What I want is that heap of cake, ice cream and strawberries from Strawberry St.

Everybody should go and get the Style this week to view the picture of Scott glaring imperiously at Five Guys.

I don't know if I was supposed to say that's what he was looking at. I am sure he was also gazing at the visions of boats and heroic deeds of his naval ancestors that are trouncing around in his brain.

So sorry.

Now Surprise is napping on my lap and may prevent me from having a shower.

I am a very skilled neck-hair cutterer. In case anyone needs one of those.

Also one time we shaved my cat and gave him a flesh saddle.