Last Night
A kitten ran to our feet as we pulled into the driveway and emerged from the car at 2:30 AM. He (kitten) seemed starving and scared, and yet affectionate and desirous of human company. We took him inside and fed him a can of tuna, then made him an impromptu litter box and bed, all before settling down to our own Whataburger taquitos.
Unfortunately, the kitten felt the need to bite my children’s Playstation controller cords, claw my laundry, and bite my hands.
We put him outside after he’d eaten and gotten a little nervous (biting) energy out of his system. Whenever we’d catch him being bad, we’d pick him up to take him outside and he’d purr. Momentarily, the purring would throw us off and we’d let him stay inside a bit longer. Eventually, however, the Dark Side won him over and he went outside, and I only let his long, loud mewling tear my heart a little before I fell into a pre-hung-over slumber.
In the morning, he was gone.
Hey: Maybe he was just a dream.
Earlier Today
We (“We,” in today’s entries, means me and my boyfriend Tad) went to Best Buy and on the way, passed Pet Smart, and Pet Smart was holding Pet Adoptions Today. I suggested we check it out, because I love seeing the apathetic cats and reading the descriptions of them on the papers attached to their cages.
Today there was a beautiful white cat named Kaya or Maia or something like that, but she was more nerve-wracked than apathetic because the adopt-a-dogs were totally freaking out. Every time some person came in with their own dog, as if their dogs need to be shopping at Pet Smart, one particular adoptable dog would start barking his ass off, as loud as canine-ly possible. Then the dog next to him would freak out and start tearing up stuff in his cage. Like, we watched him literally tear up a towel. Into strips.
The pet adoption volunteers would yell, “Stop that! Cody! Stop that!” which, as you can imagine, was the best way to make the dogs stop making noise. (Actually, you’re wrong. It didn’t work at all.)
We looked at the birds and the rodents and the reptiles. And the fish. And then we tried to look at the cats again, but the dogs were barking in a special way that was specifically designed to pierce the auditory brain center of anyone who’d had a few mojitos the night before. (Tad used fresh mint from Whole Foods, making them taste extra good.) So I got a headache, and we had to leave.
Stupid People Who Can’t Drive
There are a lot of stupid people in my new neighborhood who endanger my life with their horrible driving. I wish they would stop driving, or only drive when no one else is on the road. Or, at the very least, turn their fat freaking heads and look behind them once before putting their cars into reverse and abrubtly backing out of their driveways. And I drive slow in our neighborhood, too. I heart my kids, just like everyone else here. So – watch where the fuck you’re going, stupid people who don’t deserve cars.
Same goes to everyone driving to and from Austin every weekend. Jesus Christ, people. Get off your phones and use your mirrors. I am so freaking wired right now from the multiple adrenalin rushes it takes to save my life three or four times per Austin trip. I DON’T WANT TO DIE YET, PEOPLE. PLEASE LEARN HOW TO DRIVE.
The funny thing about the suburbs is that people will almost kill you, then make snotty faces and hand gestures at you… and yet it will freak them out when you throw the finger at them in return. “Oh, no,” they seem to think. “This person is dangerous.”
I can’t help it, though. Try to kill me and, if you fail, I will live to throw the finger at you, to defy you trying again. It’s one of the survival instincts I learned while driving in the ‘hood, I guess. Sorry, suburban neighbors. I’m going to practice making the “What the hell” gesture, instead.
Because I want to fit in and be accepted. I want to be a good member of my community.
