This cat is an excellent representation of my mood today, right down to the succinct expression of “What the Fuck” – ery. As in, I am a cat, why am I in the air? If I am wonderful enough to have wings and a halo, why am I being personhandled in this manner? Also, I know where you sleep, and if you really think your sock drawer is safe from my predations, you… probably wouldn’t have hung me from the ceiling. As soon as I develop opposable thumbs, there will be a reckoning. Until then, there had better be tuna.
Which is a long and rambling analogy I no longer have the will to explain. Suffice it to say, I feel like it appears to me that this cat feels, insofar as I can conceive of what feels a cat experiences.
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The next installment of letters unsent will be forthcoming. The last one hit a level of vulnerability that I, quite frankly, normally avoid like the plague. The next one is a bit daunting for that very same reason. But, I chose to do the thing for reasons, and I will see it through. Just probably rather more slowly than you might have thought.
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I went to church for the first time in a great while this past Sunday. Mom used her mom-ly wiles to convince me to join them because they needed sopranos. Which made about as much sense to me as having a shortage of flutes in a school band, but lo, she was not exaggerating in the least. Compared to about eight altos, and a reasonable portion of tenor and bass, they had all of TWO sopranos.
It’s a lovely church with many very nice people that is still a really damn far drive for a Sunday morning. Farmington is a lovely place that is not entirely real at 8 o’clock on Sunday morning, especially after my usual Saturday exploits, wherein I do as little as possible, stay in my pajamas, and play video games until really rather later than I should.
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When entering someone in to my database, if they live in-state, I have to add which county they live in. I use a little site called the Michigan Gazetteer – which is a word that is very strange to say repeatedly, especially in the privacy of your head. Anyway, I had to look up Reed City, which is in Osceola County. What I would like to know, Reed City, is why, when you have a land area of 2.1 miles, and a population of 2,300 people, you have a street named 175th? Surely you do not have so meany streets that you can’t be bothered to name them?
And before you tell me, I realize that they are probably too small to name streets, and just go with what someone else, probably the county, named them. It still sounds silly to me.
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TheKitchn linked to an an article in defense of greed which is an interesting read. Relatedly, Nigella Lawson was on NPR yesterday, and every time I hear an interview with her, or see her on TV, I’m reminded of how much I like her. I don’t necessarily think we would get along, when it came right down to it, but I like her style, and her unapologetic nature.