Bill O'Reilly's Trousers!
2003-04-21
2:06 p.m.

I only eat things that are British. Also, I am a huge tool.

So I (fourtunately? or, unfortunately?) found a friend who allows me to shamelessly embrace my inner anglophile. I have one friend (who is not local) who will join me in randomly sputtering, "Lift! Take away! Bill O'Reilly's Trousers!" apropos of pretty much nothing, but this is a local friend. A friend with whom I can consume Hob Nobs (after scanning the label to confirm British-ness) and yell things like, "Fuck you, Dudley!" while watching Harry Potter. Score! However, while that rules, we do enable each other to see movies like "What a Girl Wants," which was very, very, very bad. Very bad. Stemming most likely from the fact that I don't want Colin Firth to be my daddy so much as I want him to be my secret boyfriend.

Anyway, all weekend I ate scones, shortbread, tea (English Teatime, Earl Grey, and Bewley's Dublin Breakfast) and other various types of biscuits. Then I had horrible, horrible nightmares. I woke up convinced that my cat was dead and then it took me a minute to wake her, and she purred but I was still all Shocked and Awake, so I missed out on about 2 hours of sleep due to being freaked out about the fragility of cat life. Ah, kitties.

Lucy is still with me.

The shelter couldn't fit her this weekend, so her fluffy belly still lives with me. I'm so sad about not having her around anymore, but the huge fight they had this morning just confirmed that Kitties are Not Friends, and Will Not Ever Be Friends, and Molly will suffer stress-related health problems if Lucy isn't allowed to find a new home. I will miss her, though. She is very small and silly.

Okay, work now. And I might leave early to watch the marathon, but I've had A #1 crazy productive day, so: Yay!