on hardwood floors and having cats...

so, despite my attempts at expatriation, i'm still very much a southerner about some things. like, i'm very polite. just ask andrew. and i hate to wear shoes. as soon as i get home, my shoes are off.

this poses a problem when you live in an apartment with hardwood floors and have insane pets. because stuff gets tracked all over the place. like, cat litter. yeah. it's fucking gross. i get it stuck to my feet when i walk around. and it's just repulsive. oh, and there are clumps of white cat fur all over everything. god. i hate cats. okay, so i don't hate them, i actually find them quite amusing and stupid. kinda like boys -- i like them to be cute, a little dirty, and entertaining. oh, and like pets, i want them to totally adore me. because they should. without reservation. i'll get to that in a subsequent post...

another thing about the stupid cats, not only does the little one pirouette all over my bed while i'm trying to sleep, but the big one has lost his voice. steph's theory is that it's like when a kid gets a little brother or sister. it's all fun and games until it starts to sink in that the baby isn't going back. and that's when the injustice sets in. so milo, who is the talkingest cat ever, is a little depressed these days and can't meow. it's kinda endearing, really.

right now, of course, they are very cute sitting in the windowsill watching the trees blow around in the wind. goddamn cute stuff. seriously, all it takes to keep my attention is something furry or shiny. what the hell?