Edsel stuck his paw straight up my nose this morning. Managed to get a claw in each nostril, and now m'nose hurts. So I gotta fit a trip to the pound in along with my regular duties. Maybe I could just do a whole drop-him-in-a-field excursion.
He and Steely Dan are starting to do this play/wrestle thing that I really want to capture better on film. SD bats at Edsel's snout, and Eds does the bow play thing dogs do, but then he gets really excited and SD runs under a table or something. He's acutely aware of the size of his opponent.
But speaking of that dick SD, yesterday evening I heard a thump, and there was Steely Dick on the little shelf on the back of the house.
So here was my view last night, without Steely Dan being INSIDE, but rather him being outside, on the little shelf.
Here is the little shelf that's outside. Visual aids, by June. Also, I see the handyman left nails out. Thanks.
So there I was, going about my business, when I heard a FLOOMP, and there was SD outside, having just jumped on that shelf. "How the HELL did that cat get outside?" I was thinking, because HOW IS HE GETTING OUTSIDE, when
FLOOMP
He leaped from that shelf onto the roof. ONE LEAP.
Shelf, Roof. Seriously?
I ran outside, and there he was, peering down at me with pride. He was all puffed up. "You know what? Fuck you, Buddy," I said, and went back inside, because kitten mom of the year. Twice I've stood outside in the cold like an idiot trying to lure that cat who WON'T STAY INSIDE off the roof. So I went in, fed everyone else dinner, and we had ourselves a fine evening, till
FLOOMP
he jumped down and onto the shelf again. reddy to come in!
Asshole. I shoulda named him James Taylor, if he's always going to be up on the roof.
In other news, Mary Tyler Moore is dead. Goddammit. When I found out, I immediately got the idea to take a photo of me throwing my hat, so naturally I asked my partner in crime, Austin, if he'd take my photo.
One thing I required, back when I was online dating, was that the person not say they are looking for their "partner in crime." Jesus Christ. It was even in MY profile. "If you do not have 'LOL' or 'partner in crime' written anywhere on your profile, write me."
Anyway, then I needed to find a hat, and the yoga girl at work has a knitted cap that reads Namaste, I am not even kidding, so then Austin, my P-i-C, and I headed to the parking lot.
When I plugged my phone in last night, here was the first photo to load. Asshole. He might as well be Steely Dan.
Once I got Austin off the roof, we took a series of photos of me tossing a hat, such as...
this and also
I'm gonna make it (maniacally) after all.
And speaking of my coworkers, I know how you all get all Mrs. Robinson about my young coworker Ryan, who stopped by yesterday--he works on another floor now. He's all growin' his hair long and looks fairly Christlike.
"WWJD--what's with Jesus's 'do?" I asked, then gazed at self fondly and told my family I'd met The One.
Speaking of which, and do you wish I'd stop saying "speaking of" all the time? Me, too. But speaking of The One, the other night I drove my own self to Winston-Salem and saw Jackie, which is not about Jackie Gleason but rather Jackie Kennedy. Wanted my money back but they wouldn't give it to me.
No, no. I adore Jackie Kennedy, as you know, and wish to be like her and could not be less like her other than we both have vadges, and you know what Jackie Kennedy probably said a lot? "Vadge."
The movie was riveting, and sad, and afterward the whole theater of maybe 15 people just sat in silence for about a minute. It was like in Mad Men, when Don Draper took his kid to see Planet of the Apes, and at the end the kid said, "Jesus." (see Ryan, above)
Am on roll today.
The point is, that's the first time since 2011 that I have gone to that theater without Ned. I told this to Faithful Reader Fay yesterday: You know in the Family Circus, how sometimes they show the grandma, and she's doing things and the perforated outline of grandpa is next to her, cause he's dead and so on? That's how I felt. The walk to the theater, getting the popcorn, driving home, it was all very Ghost of Ned.
I thought about how promising things were in the beginning. An old friend of his telling me, "I've never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you." His relative telling me, "You're the one, I can feel it."
Of course, I also remember telling him that and him scoffing, so.
I'm still reading obsessively about the Love Addict/Love Avoidant, and I was IMing with a boyfriend from long ago last night, and we determined that we, too, had that dynamic. The woman he married ends up letting him be quite a bit, and it turns out that's exactly what he needed. But it was a nice talk, and he wasn't all, "You were a nutbar and I was delightful." Instead he acknowledged his part in things, and had nice things to say about me, which was lovely to hear.
I gotta go. Wearing my cute dress today, so look out, world. Or, alternatively, ignore me, world.
