Jet Boy, Jet Girl
The last few days have been rather cat-centric, yesterday especially. Esther is having trouble with her asthma again, with much coughing and getting pilled. Francisco had to give her a whole cyproheptadine yesterday to quell the coughing, and Esther was extremely crazy until it wore off (which was really not until this morning). A Lot of meowing. Lucy hasn't been coughing but she did do something the other night that I KNOW you'll want to hear about. She was on my pillow, kneading my hair, as is her way, when suddenly she sneezed all over my head and face. As I felt the fine mist of her sneeze settle on my cheeks, I was reminded all over again what a tremendously groce mammal she really is, and I let her know. Sometimes those cats are more work and trouble than the Boy. But not often.
In other news, my sister is telling me to email one of her friends with my big reality tv show idea, because her friend's close family friend is the producer of Reno 911, which, if you know me at all, you know is one of my favorite shows. Minired and her friend were recently talking about this family friend, and he is apparently on the lookout for a new show. I'm not going to get my hopes up about this, because I doubt very much anything will come of it, but I Will be emailing Minired's friend. A girl's gotta try, right?
I'm very glad this is a 3 day weekend for me, because not only do I get that extra sleep-in day, I also get an extra day to get stuff done, and I have a lot of stuff to get done. On Monday morning one of my coworkers is coming over for brunch--we're going to have pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream, bacon, and Bellinis. I have spoken. I think what we'll do after breakfast is play craps, with our portable craps game. Note to self; buy poker chips before Monday.
We watched the end of Colonial House this morning and I have to say, I'm worried about Paul from Manchester. He has moved to Thailand, where he's a bartender, and he said something about no more beer rationing for him (they had beer at the colony but strictly rationed it)--now he has 8 or 10 beers a night. And I'm thinking, but Paul, what about your liver? I don't want him to get the cirrhosis.
I've been listening to classic punk again today, via Netscape Radio, and I heard a song I really liked, by The Damned--'Jet Boy, Jet Girl'. I'm very sad I didn't know about this music and that song in particular, when it was contemporary punk. I'm not sure what I was doing then, but I'm pretty sure it was chock full of angst.
Have a good Memorial Day weekend, kittens.
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