June 26th, 2001


Here we go again.

Two seemingly totally unrelated incidents happened to me at work.
1: I accidentally spilled a plate of fish and chips down the front of my pants, getting them extremly greasy.

2: One of the waitresses friends stopped by with the most adorable kitten she wanted to find a home for. While I resisted adopting her, I did hold her and cuddle her and fell madly in love.

I think nothing of this and go about my business. Tomorrow I'll drop the clothes off at the laundromat anyway, so who cares about the grease?

I go home tonight and Remy and Chrissy come running up to greet me as usual. Don't be fooled by this. They are hoping for food, they really could give a crap about me. But tonight, they were really really happy to see me. So happy, that they started purring up a storm and rubbing against my legs and chewing on my pants.

So, I'm thinking, Wow, this is new! and I'm feeling kinda weird/good, till it hit me. They are getting a rush out of the smell of fish on my pants. They are trying to eat the fish grease.

Still, I'm not someone to pass up a good oportunity, so I kneel down and start to pet them.

They tollerate this for a few minutes, then suddenly, Chrissy backs up, puffs up to twice her normal size and begins hissing at me. I'm freaking, wondering what the heck is wrong with her. I reach out to pet her again, she hisses, smacks my hand, and runs away, hiding under the bed in a total snit.

Meanwhile, Remy is peeping. Yes, my cat peeps, much like a baby bird. "Peep, peep, peep!" he's dancing around in front of me, peeping and stressing. And when Remy stresses, he sheds. So long, silver hairs are flying out at an amazing speed. I think if I gathered up all the hairs he left, I could build myself another Remy. He keeps reaching out and patting my shirt with his paw.

I'm wondering what the heck is going on, then I remember... I held a kitten! They're smelling another catcreature. I have committed a sin.

So, I strip off my uniform and throw on my wedding dress... (Nah, just kidding. I threw on a long T-Shirt) and toss the dirty clothes in the laundry basket.

I go and sit down in my bedroom/office. A few minutes later, Remy comes in, dragging my dirty shirt in his mouth. He drags it under the desk where I'm sitting, kneeds it for a bit, then curls up on it and falls asleep.

Then, I hear these strange slurping noises. I go into the room where the laundry basket is kept. Chrissy is in the laundry basket, slurping away at my pants.

So, now both pants and shirt are in plastic bag where hopefully they'll be safe from the danger that is known as my cats.

I'm telling ya, the fun never ends at our place.
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It's hot...

I know I live in an area that gets blessed with winter. But that doesn't mean it isn't hot here.

Last night it was cool. Almost cold. Nice sleeping weather, except that it was humid as hell so no matter what, I felt sticky.

Today it is so hot, my tongue is sweating. Remy is lying on my bed, looking at me with big, sad, golden eyes that say, "Please, make it stop, Mommy!"

Chrissy is trying to build herself another bitchclone by sheading huge ammounts of fur and glaring at me. Her little brain has grasped that this is darned uncomfortable weather. She's trying to desperately pin the fault for this weather on me.

On the one hand, obviously, if I can control the weather, she thinks I'm God. Not bad.

On the other hand, since there is not a darned thing I can do about it, I'm obviously not a very good god and therefore am totally in deserving of her contempt.
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