I got suckered into bringing home a new kitty last night. Of course, the cat's situation decided me as much as the cat itself and/or Aaron obvious (and unusual) concern over it. It had been hanging around the VFW post where Aaron delivers papers, and Aaron brought me out to see it as soon as Dirk went to sleep last night.
She's a tabby with a white mask and stockings, like Sasha. Some asshole declawed her, which I'm against anyway and furious about if you're going to let a cat outside at all. She's fairly large, but skinny, and she's the most docile cat I've ever encountered. I asked the people at the post if it was their cat, and they said it wasn't. One guy said it had been hanging around for a while, and the other said that he'd never seen it before. Somebody must have dumped her off there. We loaded the cat up into my car and brought her to my house.
Of course my parents weren't upset. Are you kidding? Those people are nuts about cats, especially strays. We quickly got the cat installed in my utility room. The only problem we had was that the cat could hiss whenever she saw another cat. That could be a problem if my parents decide to keep her. Right now, we've only decided to take car of her at least until we can find her a new home.
I can't keep her because I'm Sasha's bitch. She'd have a fit if I got another cat.
In other news, we aren't doing the show on the sixth. The earliest available date is October 1. I'm pleased by this because it gives me time to implement our promotional scheme. I wasn't comfortable with the idea of playing a show when nobody's heard of us, and I wanted more time to perfect Joe's knowledge of our songs.
I'm almost always this cautious, unless I'm having some sort of judgement lapse. I don't like the unknown very much. I prefer the vaguely-known. The sorta-known. I plan and plan and plan until my eyeballs are ready to drop out, then proceed at a snail's pace until I'm sure I won't get hurt.
This, of course, all goes out the window when I'm seized by impulse.
We've been shopping for an evening gown, or at least my mother has. She buys something, then brings it home for me to try on. That way, I'm happy and she's happy. The last thing she brought home was a nightmare. For all of you that don't know, let me give you a little fashion tip: fat people don't look good in long skirts. They just look fatter.
::Shudder::
I'm not obese or anything, I'm just carrying enough weight that a long, sexy skirt looks baaad on me. Actually, they look bad on damn near anyone who isn't perfectly built. Quit kidding yourselves, ladies. I see all sorts of women in those sexy black skirts with a slit up one side, completely unaware of how skanky/chunky/horrific they look.
I'm starting to get the feeling that my friend, Dalin's, girlfriend is deleting all my mail to her. Honestly, I've e-mailed her at least once a month, and she's never responded. Meanwhile, she'll periodically send me an e-mail asking why I never write. To recap: Dalin moved to upstate new york to be with her girlfriend. I've only seen Dalin once since then, right before the bad old days ended. Her girlfriend didn't much like me, and I thought her girlfriend looked bugeyed.
I wouldn't put it past her girlfriend to be doing her best to cut off all contact with me. Just because that's how my life goes.
Okay, enough for now.
(JESSICA: You just about read my mind. I've been thinking about doing a redesign to the site for a while.)
