Sometimes this writing everyday business gets a little old, I just want you to know. My life is very boring sometimes. Today I dragged myself out of bed, fought traffic, went to work, worked, took a lunch break at three, worked some more, went home and basically haven't done anything since.
Let's talk about the weather for a minute, shall we?
It's cold and wet here. In the desert. The Valley of the Sun. Cold and wet. My bones hurt. When I read "over three hundred sunny days per year" in the promotional literature (courtesy of my mom and AAA), it did occur to me that meant the weather would have to be bad sometimes, but still... cold and wet. As cold as Cold Cold Canada, actually.
The cat is fucking thrilled. Why? Because he is a wool-sucker. For those who are not familiar with cat neuroses, this means that he is particularly enthusiastic about licking sweaters. Today I am wearing a pull-over sweater at home for the first time since last winter.
Very few things make the cat happy, tonight he greeted me by wrapping himself around my leg and biting down. I suspect that made him happy, but I'd really rather if he would find a nicer way to say hello than "HIhiHi! You were gone a long time. I am going to eat you so you can stay with me forever."
Then he saw the sweater and spent the rest of the evening trying to climb up on me and get some quality sweater sucking time in. It's not one of his favorites, he vastly prefers fleece and wool to chenille and cotton, but at this point he'll take what he can get. I allow this so long as there is no standing on, or clawing at, my boobs involved. I have limits.
The vet said he'd grow out of this by the time he was two, but apparently he's more neurotic than the average cat, because he's now three and he still loves nothing like a girl in a sweater to suck on.
So, the cat is loving the cold. He's chewing on my sweater right now actually.
As far as wardrobe weather goes, this is great. I have an abundance of sweaters and wool skirts and winter weather clothes. And the purring, licking cat is all furry and warm, so it isn't all bad.
I am not loving the cold. Cold damp makes my bones hurt. And if Mom hasn't turned the heat on in Kentucky, I am certainly not turning mine on in Arizona. I haven't really even examined the thermostat to see if I HAVE heat in this apartment (Verde reports that in two winters, he has turned on the heat overnight twice. Clearly, I am a wuss who hates the cold.)
I could build a fire, but that would require shit like buying some wood, and learning about how fireplaces work. Maybe when Verde comes over tomorrow, he can be in charge of that.
I know all about building a fire outside. I know quite a bit about wandering off into the woods and finding myself some kindling, but, um, do you buy kindling here? I know about how when a tree falls down, someone with a chainsaw comes along and chops it up and then you go and grab a log off the big pile. But... um... I live in an apartment, and also, there are no trees here.
Do palm trees make good firewood? Do they just bring pine down from the mountains? Am I really going to use imported fire wood? I would love the hell out of some sweaters that smell like a fire... I wonder how the cat feels about how fire-infused sweaters taste...
Also, there seems to be some confusion around these parts... folks, the car is perfectly capable of moving while the windshield wipers are running. Those same models of cars run in other places where it rains like every week or two and you know what? Those drivers don't just park on the highway when they turn on the windshield wipers. It's true. I've seen it happen. The cars keep moving, not quite as fast, but they do actually move.
Tomorrow I sort-of have to dress up in a Halloween costume for work. My boss made it rather clear that I really ought to put on a costume for work. All week when people have asked if I would be dressing up, I've replied that we'd just have to see what I found in my closet Thursday night... So, I guess I have to go get on finding myself a costume now, except the cat's licked himself to sleep half on my lap in the chair and I hate to disturb him...
I can only imagine how that'll go tomorrow when I'm at work in my normal dress-up clothes and not a costume "It was cold and wet ouside and then my mean cat fell asleep on my lap and he was warm and furry and I was afraid to wake him so I didn't get to put something together..."
I have never before written on October 28. For the fine print today, go look at Straight from the Bottle, or perhaps you need to spend more time wondering what that thing is under Bush's jacket before you go vote.