My parents found 3 (or possibly 5) puppies (described as "cute as hell") at the head of the driveway this morning.

Want.

Can't have, but want.

They'll find good homes, even if through the Humane Society, being that they are puppies. But still...want.

meara, maybe you could vaguely give the impression that you are looking to go back to school part time? Without lying?

And, Susan, yay you!

Oh my goodness. I've been fighting off the puppy urge for a while now. Which I really, really can't do. But I'm thinking about maybe signing up to foster now and then.

His tiny little head is draped over my shoulder, with one paw underneath to prop his chin.

Ack! So. Cute!

I always thought Blue (of Blue's Clues) was a boy. And Magenta was a girl.

We have a chair that looks just like the Thinking Chair, and somewhere I have a photo of a friend's daughters dressed as Blue and Magenta sitting in it.

Props to Susan! I can't even imagine being able to write a whole draft of anything.

Poor Nora and beth.

I'm at school. It's a bleak, yicky day, and I want to go crawl back in bed. Ah, well. Only have to make it till about 3:30pm.

Gronklies!

It's pissing rain here, and I'm operating on about 4 hours sleep (self-inflicted). My buddy, Other!Drew (so, the not-ND one) had tickets to the Toronto film festival midnight madness viewing of The Great Yokai War. [link] by Takashi Miike. Fun film, really really strange, but it made for a late night.

However, I am self over-medicating with coffee. I think I can achieve somewhat functioning. We'll see.

meara-ette:

I left Annabel alone for a minute to go get the phone from the other room. I came back to find her sitting on the couch, paging through Self-Editing for Fiction Writers with a look of utter concentration.

This is just about completely the cutest thing ever, ever, EVAR.

I think Crush Boy is clueless, and needs to be told to kiss Teppy's ass.

Cindy ROCKS.

Also, Tep, if your read of it is right and he really was trying to warn you that he's not in any way emotionally available, then it's totally possible that the whole unhappiness has to do with his twisted-up insides and nothing to do with your inner or outer desirability. It's totally possible that, despite being too fucked up to get involved with anyone, he may think you are not only not not-attractive, but in fact HOTT. (Which, hello? Saucy eyes, perfect lips, sassy fashion style -- the part of your brain reciting the "so not attractive" mantra needs to shut right up.)

Harvey the cat is in the crook of my arm right now, drifting between purring and sleeping.

His tiny little head is draped over my shoulder, with one paw underneath to prop his chin...Too bad I have to go get changed for work and stuff..

Makes me think of the story of the prophet Mohammed, who one morning while dressing turned around to find that his cat had curled up and fallen adorably asleep on the sleeve of a fine silk jacket. Out of sheer prophetic kitty-love, Mohammed took out a dagger, cut off the sleeve, left it there under the slumbering cat, and went out for the day in a one-sleeve jacket.

Which is a terribly cute story, but, given Harvey's present location, not to be taken as an actual suggestion.

Also, yay and what serendipity, vw! And {{crybaby sleepy Nora}}. And especially {{{{{Gud}}}}}. You've been on my mind since you posted last night that you were slightly dreading going home after the email fight. Please check in and pick up your morning delivery of punctuation and good wishes and -ma. I've been vibing hard for some kind of peace and resolution.

Also, please, Aimée, don't work eleventy-jillion hours a day (says the woman who's planning on putting in at least 20 hours of overtime herself this month just to keep from getting totally financially wrecked). Stoopid first world left coast cost of living. Argh.

People aren't just to be used for ego-gratification. That's why people get dogs.

My dog worships me. Sure, he'd eat me in my sleep if I ran out of dog bones, but every "relationship" has limits.

my craxydum cow-orker is having a WINGDING about something that is honestly not a big deal. Slamming shit around and muttering angrily and stuff.

Ick. I hate that crap because all it accomplishes is making *everyone* uncomfortable. Blech. Big deal or not, totally unprofessional.

Poor sleep deprived Bitches. Naps for all Bitches!!

It's Friday. Yay! Only two more nights of housesitting and then I can go HOME. And I'm way too excited about this.

Out of sheer prophetic kitty-love, Mohammed took out a dagger, cut off the sleeve, left it there under the slumbering cat, and went out for the day in a one-sleeve jacket.

Gotta love a religion where the prophet loves kitties. Too bad their own asshats have wrecked things.

Maybe that's why people are suspicious of Islam. Cats were often considered to be of the devil in medieval times--along with baths, which were also popular among Muslims. "They're smart and they don't stink and they like cats! Stone them!"