Not Smaht
2004-03-25
11:10 a.m.

So yesterday morning, I'm making coffee. (Bad coffee, as usual. I lack coffee skills.) My husband brewed a batch of beer this weekend, so the spare bathtub is half filled with water and a big glass tank of beer wearing a t-shirt (his home-rigged evaporative cooling system). I hear frantic splashing and I bolt up the stairs to rescue the cat that I'm sure is drowning. Maverick, the massive orange cat who resembles a giant butterball with a shrunken cat head, comes flying out of the bathroom, completely soaked, with this sad, sodden bottlebrush tail. He looks shocked, humiliated, and, well, wet. He waddles off while I, coldheartedly, crack up. There is nothing funnier than a wet cat, really. I feel badly, though, so I wrap up the 21 pounder in a fluffy towel and mop him up a little. He feels better and sleeps in the sun for the rest of the day. Poor little (giant) man.

Ah, kitty humiliation. It so frequently makes my day.

In other cat news, I currently have many small boxes from Costco scattered around the house, having a second life as cat beds. It kills me how they just love sitting on a folded up paper bag, or squeezing themselves into a box that would maybe comfortably fit 2/3rds of them on a slim day. One of the boxes has proven so popular that it's now permanently on duty on top of the bench next to our bed. Distance and yet closeness and, most importantly, corrugated cardboard. Sigh.

Since I don't have a hair shirt, I ordered Uptown Girls from Pay-per-View this morning. When they switched to a new cable box about 6 days after we got our cable set up here and then shut off our cable and we had to drive across town to get the new box and install it ourselves, they gave us 18 free PPV movies for our trouble. Like my ability to speed read giving me licence to read total schlock with embarassing regularity, free PPV movies gives me the right to watch utter cheese crap. And so I do. Ah, and it is refreshing. And depressing. I really, really need to get a job. Really.

I have got to stop saying "like." I rid myself of it in college and then readopted it in an attempt to be funny and mocking. And then it stayed. Bastard word. I need to drop it again. I also should stop saying "wicked." Every time it pops out of my mouth, people immediately know I'm from Boston. It must go, these red light that blinks "Boston" and "wicked" and "not smaht" over my head whenever I talk. Clean up campaign! I will practice today while talking to the cats.

I actually have assignments today. I have to organize all of our bills, figure out what's missing from our tax info, and draw up potential itineraries for our trip this summer. And book hotels and flights for all the weddings we have. Good times. Ah, to feel wicked useful. For, like, five minutes.