cimorene

one of the cats barfed in two different spots in the bed last night, and we woke up at half nine when wax found her hand in one of those spots. while she was making annoyed noises, i stretched my feet out and encountered the other. we changed the sheets and went back to bed, and slept until eleven. she works in just under two hours. oops. well, the sheets are a crisply starched pastel pink now, and the cats are purring violently, curled up in the down comforter and perched somewhere or other respectively. it's useless to think of a cat as guilty, even when she pees on your (my) shoelaces.

last night saw, btw, a successful venture into brown sugar meringue making, and we ate half the batch along with some tea (have discovered definite taste for raspberry) and some chocolate while watching the actor commentary on dude, where's my car?. sean and ashton are dorks, morons, and nearly just like their characters. 'we are so homosexual in this movie.' 'dude.'

at least they know, says wax.

'here comes the first really homosexual moment. now look at sean's face here.'

'i was sweating like a horse.' 'you were sweating like a lady giving birth.' 'hey, that's a good metaphor, dude.' 'thanks. did you ever notice that women giving birth sweat a LOT? they sweat like horses.'