Wrapping up the weekend, Reader. Just watched the 2nd to last episode of Breaking Bad. I'm too hopped up to just go to sleep, so I'll tell you a few snippets.
1/ We finally bit the bullet and scheduled our Housewarmer. We had hoped for September, that was a dream. We pushed to October, but realized that 6 weeks out might still be too soon, because hey, one whole weekend before has to be devoted to buying groceries. And yesterday we just bought some furniture so we look like Adults here, with some grown up stuff in the house, and that might not arrive for 4 weeks. So we picked a date and then we worked like hell on the basement today. Tossing, throwing, sorting and storing stuff. We might get there.
I may have a housewarming party where the joke's on everyone who shows up, and they're actually here to paint and put stuff away, otherwise known as Best. Party. Ever. For me, not necessarily for the guests.
2/ My friendie stopped over Saturday night for an impromptu visit and we drank Ice Wine and said, "Oh, that's good!" and then we talked about a lot of stuff. I heart her, and am happy that I have an Entertaining House. It's nice to have company. Now we just need to figure out how to light the pilot for the gas fireplace, and I could really have a cozy home.
3/ Thursday night I decided to scrub scrub scrub the upstairs bathroom, and get it ready to host guests who may come from out of town and spend the night. We had thought of keeping a litter box up in that bathroom, but the cats were assholes and were pooping outside of the boxes and onto the floor, so they lost their upstairs bathroom priviledges.
Kitty Purry showed me just exactly what she thought of that decision and jumped on the bed Friday night and peed on me. For reals. One minute I was nodding off through some stupid Adam Sandler movie that My Mister was watching, the next minute I said, "I smell cat pee!" and the next minute I rolled over and my leg hit wet. Sonofabitch. All the way down to the mattress pad, which is a good thing we have a mattress pad, I guess. So we put in another upstairs bathroom with a much bigger box that has deeper sides for the little assholes, and so far I haven't been peed on again.
I felt the worst when I picked her up and looked her directly in the eye and told her she was a bad kitty and I didn't love her any more.
I think she understood me, because she got a hurt look on her face. Later I told her I was sorry and of course I loved her, and we kissed and made up.
So basically, you can take a piss on me, and I'll end up apologizing. Because I'm obviously not meeting your needs.