Apparently all my blog is going to be, now, is unsmiling selfies. I plan to feature unsmiling selfie of the day, which should annoy the CRAP out of that wingnut Kelly who reads and hates me. If I had the strength right now, I'd totally have write-in-if-you-hate-me day, but now is not the time for those shenanigans.
Yesterday I grocery shopped for my stay here at Kaye's, and I bought all sorts of food I knew would have shocked and repulsed Ned: white bread. And not baked at the store, either. In a plastic bag. You can take me out of the working class, but you can't take the working class outta me.
And no wine. We always had wine in the house. But I really don't wanna be Bridget Jones, drinking wine in my pajamas, all alone.
Last night, I was truly having a lovely time here all alone. I mean, the last time I lived ALONE alone, with no pets, was in 1993, when I moved to Seattle and hadn't sent for my cat, Bob, yet. I think I lasted a month before I got my pennies together and had that poor cat flown in, like Elvis getting barbecue on ice. They actually delivered him on the luggage turnstyle. I stood watchng the luggage till I heard, mow. Mow. MOW. MOW. getting closer and closer and there was cranky Bob.
Anyway, last night was blowy and rainy and awful and I was watching this YouTube series of this woman giving FIFTY lectures on narcissism. She kept saying how everyone else in her life was a narcissist, and in the meantime, FIFTY LECTURES on it. She just kept meeting narcissists. How could that BE? Anyway, I was riveted by her, and really felt tempted to not go to my hurricane party, but I know they say you should "go out" and "do things," so I did.
And I'm so glad! First of all, note the Lilly-looking kitty who attended the party also, seeing as it was at her house and all. I kind of feel like she was the pissed-off roommate, who had to get up in the morning and never would have invited these assholes over. Her owner said she's beautiful but maybe not the genious-est. Recently she got stuck behind a sheer curtain. Kept kind of pawing at it listelessly till she laid down. i figgure out layter.
I had better go, as this computer is close to death and what if I write all this pith and it dies? What then? Then the terrorists win.
Oh, lord, no idea how I'll blog in the a.m. Look at June. Adding suspense right at the end.
WILL JUNE RUN OUT OF COMPUTER POWER? WILL JUNE BE BLOGLESS MONDAY? Tuuuuuune in tomorrow for JUNE IS POWERLESS.