I should really have learned not to do diary entries and random fiddlings at the same time. This is the third time I'm writing this entry. In brief: I have sexy new ankle-height cherry-red Wicked-Witch-of-the-East winter boots I LOVE, I have 3 wisdom teeth that don't HAVE to come up but may eventually possibly end up killing half the nerves in my face if something bad happens (also, they may have to dig into my sinuses for one of them, "But that will heal, no worries."), and the kitty's getting slightly bitchy from time to time, and the problem is that sometimes, since she's totally unpredictable and moody, you can't tell when she's going to be super-cuddly and purring, or grab your hand and kick it to death with her back feet. Did I mention she horked up a tooth a couple of weeks ago? Also that her new favourite places to chill include the bathroom sink and the top of her "turret" on her 8-foot-tall cat-post, where she can swipe at unsuspecting passers-by; her new favourite foods include juice, strawberries and low-fat cheese; her new grudges include every comb and brush I buy for her; and her new favourite things to do are leaning over the toilet seat to dabble in the water, trying to stop the sink faucet from running when I'm brushing my teeth, and dragging around her Santa Hat and Psycho Fred (our third Fred: 6 inches tall with dangle arms and suction cups) from place to place like Christopher Robin with Winnie The Pooh. Also, forcing her way into Rick's room when my alarm goes off 20 minutes early, and sneaking up into bed to curl up next to my leg until I eventually get up to go to the bathroom, when she'll dash there before me to hang out when I'm peeing. However, should you so much as fart, she will attack you ass under the covers. And if she hasn't had breakfast yet, she will bite your toes.
Do I let my cat get away with too much?
Rick's implied that he got me something very expensive for Valentine's day, but he won't give me any clues. I'm excited, because usually we keep it reasonably low-key: last year he made everyone at the store give me shit for a week by sending me flowers at work; the year before, I left him a giant 3-foot tall stuffed monkey in his stock room at Radioshack. I think before that, we were on the monkey-standard. But we have (dare I say it?) too many monkeys now - something like 25 or 30, too many to remember. And the cat has adopted at least 3 of them by herself (Catnip Fred was bought for her anyway, when we first got her, but Psycho Fred she stole, and Kong Fred, the Fred I got Rick for Valentine's Day, she just kind of attacked last week, so I stuck him under her cat-tree to make mroe space in Rick's room. And she kidnaps Pen Fred whenever she can find him.) Heh, she's definitely a part of the family now.
A few months ago: doesn't she look satanic when Rick tried to take away the comb she was trying to kill?
With Catnip Fred: see what I mean about the misleading, beguiling angel thing she has going? Doesn't she look sweet?
Kitty grooming Catnip Fred
Taken a couple of weeks ago: kitty playing in the toaster. Notice how it's unplugged?
Readin' Witches Abroad
Listenin' to nothing
Thinkin' about going to bed, calling Rick
Most recently I was 
