Mondale is going through some sort of crazy phase. So much of his time is spent running aroung the apartment like his ass is on fire. He has no regard for whether what he's currently bouncing over, climbing on, or running across happens to be your body. Isis chases him sometimes, but Isis always stops before he jumps on a person.
Mondale has also been growing like a damned weed. When he came home with us, it looked to me like (if he wasn't so wiggly), he'd fit easily into a pint glass. Now a frequent refrain is "Why does this cat take up so much space right where I want to be?" He's harder to scoop up with one arm too.
His preferred sleeping place is directly underneath both of us. His preferred method of announcing that sleeping time is over and now it's time for everyone to go downstairs for running around is chewing on someone. He could go downstairs by himself, but neither cat wants to be where he can't see the people. (It's fun to see what they do when we're in different rooms. It seems to stress them out.)
He still has no idea what his name is or that the noises coming from the people might actually be directed at him or that the hands that pet him and feed him are in any way attached to us.
I'd share a picture but he's up in the cat tree right now, and see above: I can't call him or get his attention.
There was something that was going to go here and then I forgot. Sorry. I'm not sure it was very important.
Gwen says men should carry purses. She has a real point. Today at work, I was having Craft Hour, and my explanation to my boss of, why, exactly the thing I was working on had to be how I'd made it was: "Because these mostly go to men. And they carry them everywhere and it's not like they have purses."
I don't care if they have to call them something other than purses. I know "man bags" didn't work. Call them messenger bags, then. Or just bags. Or whatever. Shit - call them purses. What's wrong with it?
The Fine Print:
2005: Basically no entry. We were moving. It was hot and awful.
2004: No entry. Was worrying about my sister full-time. Also, I was living in an apartment with minimal provisions while waiting for my furniture to arrive in AZ.
2003: No entry. Was busy being mad at one ex-boyfriend and visiting with another.
2002: Aw, I was gonna go see Jeff. We didn't speak for, like, eighteen months, but we're sort of friends again.
2001: This is about how totally appalled I was that our houseguest was subsisting on Ramen and not rinsing his dishes.
posted by mary ann 9:55 PM