Oh, she gets around FINE. She sees enough. I notice she has trouble really knowing how far it is from the table to the fur-covered couch. She lifts her paw out and tries to touch the couch first, and it takes her a few tries. Poor "What-depth?" girl.
She was my companion yesterday while I sat here like a moron and watched Sex and the City for 29 hours. Which by the way I saw in its entirety probably twice before I got the box set, and which I have watched all over again from start to finish at least three times. Then I rewatched it with the director's comments.
So it was productive that I watched all of season three again yesterday.
If I don't immediately pick her up when I am here at the computer (Iris, not Carrie Bradshaw), she does this poking at me thing, shown here. "MEW! MEW!" poke poke poke poke. Not at all annoying when I'm trying to work here.
When I wasn't underneath Iris and/or watching DVDs with my active family...
The first person to say, "I thought you weren't allowing the dogs on the couch, June" gets humped by Talu. I am sending her over to your house with an Al Green tape and some champagne-flavored kibble. And yes, I am in my purple robe in this shot. Did I mention I'm suing Justin Timberlake, because I in fact brought sexy back?
...I cat-sat for Tall Boy.
When I got back from scooping the poop of cats who weren't mine--and honestly, how enviable is my life?--I went back home with the idea that maybe I'd do something useful, when Marvin popped over. He had borrowed my tax records for his own, and was returning them. I was here in the computer room and looked up and there was Marvin's giant pink car in my driveway, which is not a euphemism.
I haven't been what you'd call hanging with Marvin a lot. I feel worse now about us breaking up then I did when he left. So hanging is not really a great idea. Nevertheless, there he was, in my living room.
"What's this book?" he asked, getting the Jeffrey Dahmer book that I keep forgetting to return to Tall Boy, even though I have now been at his house three times since I finished it.
"That's the book Jeffrey Dahmer's dad wrote."
"Ooo! What'd he say?"
"Well, mostly that he had no idea his kid was nuts. But the dad himself admitted that he liked to set fires when he was young. He found it arousing. He was aroused by fire," I said.
"Jeffrey Dahmer's dad wanted to have sex with fire?" asked Marvin, who goes around getting a kick out of his own self more often than is healthy. "Hey, let me just have sex with--ow!"
"Yes. He can't forget about his old flame," I said, similarly loving me. It's easy cause I'm beautiful.
"He was always getting burned in his relationships," said Marvin.
"So he went on Match.com!" I said, getting onto the Zales website to buy myself an eternity band.
The good news is, Marvin set my DVD player up so now I can watch Netflix without having to order Netflix. I mean, I don't just think up a movie in my mind and it appears on the screen. I guess technically I still have to order it. You know what I mean. Shut up.
Finally, it was night and time to get up with my old flame Dick Whitman.
My friend Dot sent me a Hello Kitty mood necklace, which is THE BOMB, and which I wore last night. I kept asking Dick Whitman, "What mood am I in now?" which I'm certain was not annoying. Or anything. I wonder what color his Hello Kitty necklace was?
I had better go now because in a few hours my ...friend will be here and we are going to an Oscar party at Marty Martin's. We all discussed dressing up but Marty Martin did not want to buy body glitter, as he just ran out. So we're wearing normal clothes.
I don't have a movie that I think desperately needs to win, do you? I do think The Artist was really cool and unusual, so maybe it should win.
June has spoken.