I am really going to need to wrap up Vegas, because I've got Route 66 to holler on about and an apartment to clean clean clean and I'm heading to a goddamn polo match this afternoon, and I love wearing floppy hats and hanging out with rich folk and pretending I'm loaded while I, well, get loaded.
Basically, I am cluttered. And I have two cats. I have been living with cats for a week now, in a cluttered car for four days and in my cluttered a.p.t. for two, and I have cluttered activities that are cluttered between tasks, and I'm thinking of changing my name permanently to my secret super hero ego, which is, of course, Captain Clutter.
Still in awe that I share a dwelling with cats. They're fine cats who are named after types of cats and in fact I would argue that as far as cats go, they're cat-tastic. But they give me this odd feeling. I want them to like me very very badly. If they ignore me, I'm almost hurt inside. Why don't you like me? Why don't you want to be around me all the time? Like me. LIKE ME. LET ME PET YOU. Gahh, cat. S.
And they make me miss The Dog. Lameness. Much much lameness.
But, today is today. And it will be great.