"I do still love my blog, Monica -- my life is just really boring right now. What?? Ouch, stop hitting me!"

I try to go out to my parents' for dinner and a movie or something at least once a weekend. Last Sunday, however, my parents and I went to see True Grit (which was amazing - I'm getting it on dvd the minute it comes out), then they came over to my place for dinner, since I live five minutes from the theater and the movie got out too late for me to go all the way out to theirs. It was really lovely -- my mom brought homemade soup and bread, and I provided salad, drinks, and a little bit of dessert. It had been a few years since my dad had seen my apartment and I've made a lot of changes in that time, so it was fun to get a whole new batch of compliments on the place. I spent the whole weekend cleaning before they got here, so it's also been really nice having a clean, straight living space. It was such a resounding success, in fact, that we decided to do it again this weekend, although now that today has arrived and I am sitting in my bathrobe and blogging at quarter to three (New Years resolution to go to church every Sunday FAIL) and am facing the fact that I actually have to get up and clean now instead of settling in for a lazy afternoon viewing of a movie, I'm sort of having mixed feelings about the idea. Only sort of mixed, though -- I really enjoyed last weekend and I won't miss the drive out to my parents'.

As you may have gleaned from Twitter, I'm currently treating poor Gracie for a UTI. There was this whole drama over trying to get a urine sample out of her involving earplugs and a urine-covered bathroom, and I've been feeding her pills every day since. The nice thing is that it's only been a week, but I'm pretty sure she's getting better! She's suddenly more affectionate than she's been in, like, ever, which makes me wonder how long she was sick (sigh). But she actually approaches me for pets and cuddles more often than Garfunkel does now. She also seems more more energetic and playful than she had been in a little while. Accurate diagnosis and a cuddly, healthy kitty for the win. :)

And little other care hath she

Gracie decided to take a nap sorta half way under the covers today, which of course made me coo all over the place and take pictures, because I'm a crazy cat lady.

I went to a fiber festival today at a fairground a little south of town. It featured a variety of fibers, fiber-producing animals, hand-made cloth and articles of clothing, as well as dyes, chemicals, looms, shuttles, spindles, and a plethora of other tools I could only begin to imagine how to use. (And of course elephant ears, because that's what makes something a festival.) My weaving teacher was there as well (apparently), and told me later that she had had bought way, way too much, but I personally didn't get anything other than a slush-puppy. Whenever I'm surrounded by pretty, I'm tempted to buy stuff, but today was an exception, seeing as I either didn't have a clue how to use any of it or it was fairly expensive and very nice. I mean, I suppose I could buy homespun, hand-dyed fibre for the next scarf I spend a year occasionally poking at in between other projects, or a hand-made gossamer shawl to keep me warm while I lounge around in my pjs, but... maybe next time.

Speaking of keeping warm, I have to admit it's about this time every year that I start to think favorably about colder weather. Despite swearing oaths on all that is holy every February that I will not be such a damnfool the next time around, cold air, sweaters, leaves, cider, apples, rain, more festivals, and even a little bit of snow start to sound really nice around mid-August. It must be something the tourist buearu puts in the water; I don't even like apples that much. I actually (having resisted the angora gossamer) stopped by Old Navy today and bought sweatpants in anticipation. They were on sale; don't judge me.

I'll keep checking the horizon

No hon, one on each foot.

Not much going on right now. Trying to find time to work on my artwork, and sorta failing. I'm in this awful cycle where I don't want to leave Current Workplace until I have something purposeful (like art school) to leave for, I can't apply for art school until I have more of a portfolio, and I don't have enough time to work on a portfolio while I'm working 40 hrs a week at Current Workplace. I've already done the math and I can't afford to cut my hours; moving home isn't a practical option for a number of reasons.

If anyone has any genius epiphanies, do let me know.

Honestly, I think if I start cutting out social things from my weekend, I'll find enough time. I just need to be more self-disciplined. Incidentally, Monday was my four year anniversary at Workplace [confetti]. I never thought I'd be here this long; don't I get to graduate yet?

"I love cats because I enjoy my home, and little by little they become its visible soul." - Jean Cocteau

Cats can be such a pain. There are days when Gracie won't stop yowling at my roommate's door and Garfunkel won't stop trying to get his 22 lb bulk onto my lap, even though I'm obviously not in the mood. Days when Garfunkel's defecated outside the litterbox, Gracie's peed on the couch, and one of them's barfed all over the living room carpet... all before I've managed to leave for work in the morning.

But there are days when they've both made me laugh out loud before I've been awake even an hour and a half. Garfunkel, who I swear was some sort of pervy stalker in another life, has an obsession with rolling around in my dirty laundry. When I woke up today to the sight of him emersed in a pile of laundry, tail twitching, with two pairs of dirty underwear clutched in his paws, rubbing them on his head, I almost split a gut. Then, Gracie, the more standoffish of the two, was in her endearing uber-affectionate mood, which quickly turned into her wide-eyed OMG MUST PLAY AND SLASH YOUR ARMS OPEN mood. This, albeit dangerous, is one of the cuter and funnier things on the planet. On the whole, I guess they're worth having around.

Gracie is also the more curious and mischevious of the two. I was super amused the other day to find her perched precariously on the upper reaches of my bookshelf:



But even more amused when I went flipping back through my camera to discover that this was the last picture I'd taken, months earlier:



I need to find something new to take pictures of.

In other news, it's raining and I ate chocolate cake for breakfast. Not a bad Saturday so far.

We all knew this day would come.

Ew, folks. Ew.



I have no right to complain (considering it's December and we get snow in October not infrequently), but I did so enjoy it holding off for a bit. I really wouldn't mind winter so much if it didn't actively try to kill me every time I tried to drive somewhere. I only live a mile from work, and this helps a ton in reducing the chances of me slip-sliding my way to an early demise, but still, that mile can get pretty icy -- I can't count the number of times I've slid past the road my office building is on. I do like the whole white Christmas bit, and snow is very pretty and peaceful, but until transporters are invented, I remain officially Not a Fan.

In cheerier news, I have a purring Gracie cat in my face. I've switched the cats (who eat out of the same bowl) to senior food, since Funkel's just turned ten and was starting to show signs of needing it. However, senior cat food is more caloric and Gracie (age 2.5) is already a bit tubby, so I've been trying to give them less, which means they get hungry a good few hours before it's time for me to feed them. And when Gracie, who's usually a bit standoffish, wants to draw your attention to something (like an empty food bowl), she gets affectionate. (She is seriously the most manipulative creature I have ever met, but she's reeeeeally cute, so she gets away with it.) This means I've been getting more than my usual amount of Gracie affection, which is pretty awesome. I should have thought of starving her months ago.

An entire section on alien prosthetics? SWEET.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I managed to forget what real life feels life for a few days, which constitutes a great break in my book, so, mission accomplished over here. Lots of sleeping in, good food, friends, and family made it pretty awesome, too. Also, my uncle came bearing unexpected gifts, so I now own the new Star Trek movie, complete with the second disk of special features which I generally scorn as a waste of money that only fools would buy into, but as soon as someone else bought it for me became the coolest thing in the world which I watched every second of immediately. Good times.

In semi-related news, it was a good move getting a second cat, no matter how jealous Garfunkel sometimes gets of Gracie. I came home today after four days at my parents' and his general demeanor said, "Oh you're back? I remember you. Well, pet me as long as you're here." This is a vast improvement over the first time I left him on vacation, during which time he would not eat, drink, sleep, or use the litterbox until poor distraught Jennifer went out and bought the Happy Kitty Hormone Plug-in of Happiness the vet recommended. "Also," said Garfunkel after I'd been home a few minutes, "could you refill my water bowl?" Because apparently the blue came-with-a-box-of-Easy-Mac bowl is the only one he'll drink out of anymore -- the extra I put out was untouched but his usual bowl was bone dry. That insane excuse for a self-sufficient predator would die of hunger or thirst completely surrounded by water and food if it wasn't in his normal bowl. Because even if he's emotionally more well-adjusted, he's still crazy.