On Friday, we got out of work at 3:00, which is always exciting.
A big crap ton of us, and I think it was Jackie Kennedy who invented the term "crap ton," got together after work to say goodbye to one of our coworkers, who has the nerve to be moving back to New York, like it's exciting there or something. I know this picture makes it look like seven, seven of us made up that crap ton, but this was early on, and eventually I think there were around 30 of us.
Which may explain why I got drunk. Oh, I was laughing and talking and having a time with all my coworkers who don't even like me, and who had to put up with me anyway. Some dude in the line tried to pick me up, because hashtag still got it, and I never paid for one drink all night, and boom. Next thing you know, it's five hours later.
I drank for five hours.
Ned lives within walking distance of this place, so I called him, thinking 8 p.m. is just about when he gets home, seeing as he's a fancy president and works till all hours, then goes to the gym like it's fun. Turns out I was right. He was home. And he walked right over and got me, which is good because at that point it was just the person moving to New York, and me. All the normal, sober people had gone home after beginning to drink at 3:00.
Once we got in my car and Ned was trying to drive a stick, so to speak, I remembered Kit's anniversary.
"IT'S KIT'S ANNIVERSARY!" I bellowed, I'm sure charmingly and not at all drunkenly. "WE HAVE TO GO THERE!" So we drove to my house and let poor Edsel out, who didn't even want to go because he doesn't want to go outside any more since the day I banished him out there for eating Lottie, but Ned went with him and I have no idea what I did. Shots? Who knows?
And then we headed to Kit's store. It's been 15 years she's been having her cool store, called Design Archives, and if you're ever in town you should totally go. I sat on a stack of vintage Playboys and read them loudly while Ned looked around self-consciously. "LOOK AT SHARON STONE'S NIPS!" I announced.
"I have champagne!" Kit came over to see us, and probably to gently lead me away from nips.
"CHAMPAGNE!" I screeched.
I was having a much-needed glass of alcohol when Faithful Reader Happy appeared, with her entire family. "June?" she said. "HAPPY!!!" I shrieked, and pretty much everyone in Greensboro likes me a lot. Because pleasant? I talked Happy's whole family into drinking Kit's champagne. Dear Kit: You're welcome.
"Maybe you should, you know, eat something, June," said Ned, who took me to a restaurant, where thank god I opted for water.
Somehow, it was decided I should stay at Ned's, maybe because he wanted to be alert should I Jimi Hendrix myself in the night, and when we got to his house, I was all LET'S DRINK WINE AND SIT ON YOUR PORCH!
I forgot to mention we were having cool weather--there was a big storm brewing, and it was cool and blowy and stormy, and we were on the second floor of the restaurant and could see the trees bending to and fro. I wanted to drunkenly enjoy them from Ned's porch.
I have no idea why god saw fit to let me wake up feeling perfectly well the next day, but I really did. And I swear to you no Ned hanky-pank went on. I'm not saying that the next morning Ned didn't suggest we while away the hours with some hank or some pank. But I said no. Strong drunk black woman.
Saturday is something of a tired blur for me, except for the part where no one can figure out Lily.
When did she turn into adventure cat? I realize this photo is like a Bigfoot sighting, all blurry, but I took it through the screen when I saw her up there. A) Why is she going outside, and 5) How'd she even get on that roof, with all her...bulk?
Here's my regularly scheduled Lily.
Anyway. So as you know, I've been looking at that kitty, Lantana, at PetSmart. I was at PetSmart for a change this weekend, and I saw a woman with a cat carrier walking out of the store, and I am not even making this up. "I'm sorry to bother you. Is that Lantana?" I asked her.
"It is!" she said, and right then is when I realized, she was the volunteer who had me hold Lantana last week. "Oh, it's you!" she said, like we were in the Pina Colada song. Turns out the volunteer was similarly charmed by Lantana, and what are the chances I'd be in there the minute she was adopting that charming kitten?
So that is how I ended up trolling for kittens on Craigslist, and I KNOW I should go to the shelter, but it's never open when I'm free, and here was a perfectly good werewolf-y kitten, in my color, right there for the taking. I texted the boys who had her, and we had a lovely exchange wherein I got her for $50 because savvy, and I asked if we could meet in public.
"Oh, I'd prefer that," the kid I was talking to said. "Well, I'm a woman and not crazy," I lied.
"Well, I'm gay, so you're extra safe," he said back, and I tried not to think of Buffalo Bill and his pit.
Yesterday morning, I met them in a grocery store parking lot, with my 50 dollars like I was doing a drug deal, and drove home with Hazel. They had told me this kitty was a boy, but I took one quick look, saw his vagina, and right then I knew.
Asking two gay guys to ID a vagina is asking a lot.
Here's what I have to say about Hazel.
Spit. Fire. Holy shit.
I had planned to contain her in the back room till I could get her to the vet, but she was having NONE of that. [meow meow meow meow!] she said at the door when I shut it. Remember when I got Roger, and he squeezed under the door to get to where the action was?
So I decided to let each animal in one at a time to see how it went. Here's what I predicted: Lily would act like nothing had changed in her life, Iris would write her congressman, and Edsel would fall in love.
Yes yes and yes.
deer god. pleese make kittee luff edzul. ay men
Do you know who does not love Edsel? She doesn't just hiss. She SPITS and LUNGES and then she hisses. Edsel is horrified, but he keeps trying. He looks at her longingly from a snout-safe distance now.
Lily not only acted like she goes way back with Hazel, to their sorority days, she also plays with her. There was zero period of adjustment. Lily is a cat of mystery, seriously.
Iris wants me dead, she wants you dead, she wants the whole fucking country to fucking fuck off and be dead. She can't see exactly where Hazel is, so she's just been hissing into the room at random, to let the room know, EVERYTHING CAN FUCK RIGHT OFF.
Hazel managed to jump all the way up to the TV, just to be spit-firey, by the way. I spend a lot of time horrifiedly waiting for what's next. Iris and her knife juggling skills. Iris biting the top off her paw grenade. Iris gets a lasso and drags that kitty in for lunch.
hoo care?
So that's been my weekend. Further kitty reports as developments warrant.
