Thanks, all, for li'l Snorri's warm reception. He won't actually be with us until late September, but when he does come he'll be as polite a kitty as ever was seen. And a badass. And a math wizard. And an author. And waaay more advanced than most other kitties his age. I would be an insufferable parent.
Norwegian Forest Cats are climbers, so we're going to have to get a cat tree. I refuse to have one of those hideous carpeted monstrosities in the apartment, so we're looking for something a bit less aesthetically nauseating. I will also be carting him all over the place in a baby bjorn, just see if I don't. Enhabiten, my fingers are crossed that you'll find your kitty soon.
Not much going on in these parts. Our visitor left. I participated in a day of Think Tank activities (which, by the by, I've cleverly dubbed the "Stink Tank." I'm just so creative.) Poor n.o.c. is working about a million hours a week. I feel very sorry for him as I click my way through yet another novel, but I don't let sympathy interfere with my scrabble playing. How's he gonna be tough if no one beats him when he's down?
Rick, our homeless friend, has gone through a bit of an unfortunate/fortunate period. Unfortunately, he got the shit kicked out of him on Saturday night, and now has four staples in his head. Fortunately, he signed the lease on a Section 8 apartment, so he'll be off the street by next week. Yay for Rick! Though, as he told us yesterday, he won't have a job or receive a disability check for a while, so he'll still be "working" in our neck of the woods. In truth, I'm glad that I'll still get to see him.
Incidentally, I've decided that the next time I have a summer off, I'd like to have an abundance of friends and money. My favorite Baltimorians have been off jaunting around Italy - one of them for the entire month of July, which is incredibly rude, since he has the summer off too and was supposed to spend his time entertaining me. It's bullshit, really. My favorite New Englanders have been marinating in stinky old Europe. n.o.c. is out the door by 7am and seldom comes home before 7:30pm, and he works a good bit when he is home, so he's not really in an ebullient I-don't-have-to-work-let's-play-all-the-time sort of mood . AND we're trying not to spend any money, which, let me tell you, limits your damn options something serious. I'm not complaining - I mean, I'd much rather sit on my couch or wander aimlessly around the harbor than try to teach seventeen-year-olds how to think rationally - but I just think I'll do this differently next year.
And on that oh-so-insightful note, I'll leave you until I have something more interesting to say. Happy Friday.