The joy of parenthood

So everyone once in awhile I foster kittens for two reasons: 

1. It keeps Serafina on her toes. That tubby cat gets really full of herself if left to her own devices. Observe:

Serafina is the fat gray one in the back and Dante is the fat brown one in the foreground. As you can see, they lead terribly taxing lives. I think this was taken around 1 pmish.

and 2. HelLO! Kittens!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee KITTENS!!!!!!1111 They come from the SPCA and usually are just too tiny to get spayed or neutered, so I fatten them up for a month or so to help the SPCA with space and then give them back to be adopted by families who hopefully aren't as psychotic as I am. Or are they? 

Anyway, my latest batch has been sort of... stand offish. Not that it's particularly a good idea for them to love me FOREVER like they SHOULD. Pre complete fattitude: 

That's Jada, Nile, and Nathan. Not my names but I probably couldn't do better. You also get a bonus of a pic of my puppily Nutmeg in the background. Precious! She's a runner. Seriously, they should have named her Houdini. 

So my friend Em was visiting this past weekend (Best. Weekend. EVER.) and, as luck would have it, I came down with some sort of debilitating virus on Sunday. Sweet little Emily spent about 12 hours watching movies while I drifted in and out of consciousness on the couch a mere three feet away from her (tragically, I remember most of Sydney White). That's a ballsy woman. When I hugged her goodbye on Monday, my mom said, "Wow you touched Typhoid Mary." Thanks, Mom. 

Anywhom, through the haze I could hear this running commentary on the kittens' "goings-on" from Em. I didn't really know what she was talking about until I woke up later on Monday to see this:

Incidentally, all three are covered in glitter. 

Because I'm feeling competitive

I don't personally believe that directional comments are appropriate on a blog because it's really an online diary meant to convince myself that people care what I think. However, I've also always been subject to the whims of others and I think a tacit understanding of online forums is no reason to let that go. To whit, Matt:

1. Ah, sports. Where they throw the ...ball into the hoop and get a touchdown while scissor kicking with the thingy. Go team! Which team? I dunno. Which ones like kittens? Wait, he looks like he loves his mother. And I sort of do like blue better green. Sometimes. I suppose it depends on the shade. Like, I like kelly green more than forest green, but I like both of those way more than olive. Unless it's paired with a nice muted yellow. Do we have any more chips? I'm hungry again. Wait, why are they yelling? Did we get something? A point? Ah screw it I'm just going to go get hammered and watch hockey.

2. If you don't think this is funny, then I have no remedy for whatever ails you. And it just so happens to be the best song of all time.

3. Cashmere lounge pants are exactly what they sound like. Lounge pants made out of luxurious cashmere. I like the concept because it implies both unnecessary luxury and an impressive degree of laziness I regularly exhibit on Saturday mornings. Although now that I've discovered that play Saved by the Bell on Fox at 11 am, I have a raison d'etre again.

4. Wes does not, in fact, cheat in class. He sells his body for better grades. I'm not going to go into specifics, but if our ITOM teacher leers at him anymore while caressing his pocket protector, I'm going to say something.

5. As for the ladies, Wes and I came up with a brilliant scheme just today of how he could effectively pick up whatever teenagers happened to wander through the museum. In the meantime I'll start taking Krav Maga classes or something and give his number to whichever girl kicks my ass first. For that matter, I could probably choose one of the hotties that most recently jacked me in the face in soccer. The opportunities abound in the injury rife existence I lead.

Another classy moment

So the museum I'm interning at has an upcoming permanent exhibit opening this Fall called Your Incredible Body. To prepare for this momentous occasion, I am directed to write an article for the newsletter on the subject, which I naturally know nothing about really. Anyway, it prompted me to leave this gem of a voicemail with the Director of Exhibits:

"Hey there, it's Meg from marketing. I'm trying to pin down this article and sort of realized that I didn't really know what the exhibit was going to look like. I was just curious about who it's sort of directed at, what kind of activities there will be, etc. If you can just call me back, I'd love to get a feel for Your Incredible Body."

*pause*

Sigh.