Tuesday, June 27, 2006

cat, mon dieu.

1. I am so stuck at work. I am not leaving this building. It is like that terrible Christian Slater movie out there. Rainnegeddon or Trafficgeddon or whatever. Blargh.

2. Every time I try to explain to people why I don't like cats, it gets a little more difficult. So I've decided for now to stop trying. This post, my friends will be happy to know, will be the last time I speak of this. At least for a while. Or until tomorrow night. Whatever.

Do you know how some people are fearful of/anxiety-ridden around infants, because they might not know their own strength? Like, what if you are such a large fumbling baboon that you are too strong with the baby? Or throw the baby around? Or drop the baby? Or squeeze the baby too tight? Look at the rabbits, George? Etc?

Okay, so I am distrustful of cats because they are... too delicate. Petting them? Especially their little heads? Ig. Their bones feel hollow. And so when I was 10 or so I decided that I could probably crush a cat skull with one fisty crunch, and I'd feel terrible about it. Cats are for delicate girls with long hair who read books and drink hot cocoa. Cats are not for tall easily sunburnt girls with hearty Midwestern bone structure. They just aren't.

Also I once ran over a cat in high school and then sobbed about it not only because I had killed something, but because I had convinced myself that the cat was the cat of a blind girl who wouldn't know her cat was missing. Because, apparently, my hometown was just like Dumb & Dumber. Anywys, after I hit it, I turned around to look for it and it was gone. Which means I just severely injured it, and it had crawled off somewhere to die, and that made me feel EVEN WORSE.

Fucking cats.

Anyways-n-therefore, I don't really like to be around cats that much. ESPECIALLY Siamese cats, or kittens. Fat cats with thick heads are better, and fat cats with thick heads are usually more doglike anyways. And I like pictures of cats. And websites about cats. In sinks. And with things on them. And in costume. And starring in shows such as "Cat Town."

This is kind of going somewhere, I promise.

Anyways, my sophomore year of college I also kind of got a tweensy obsessed with phrenology, for about a week.

GUESS WHAT I JUST FOUND?!?!????!?!??! omg cat phrenology.




I totally think I just came off waaaaay creepier then I ever thought possible.

3. In other news, the N. is bidding on Ebay for the winter issue of Cap File, to complete my unholy collection. Keep your fingers crossed for me!!!!!!!!

4. Emails from MJ, stuck in San Francisco (short story): PS: I thought of a good indie rock band name: Wait Twenty Years. Their CD would be called "Everything You Like Now, I Liked Five Years Ago."

Emails from my friend Tina, stuck in Amsterdam (long story): Seriously, How much do I love Amsterdam? Lots.

okay, that's it.

5. No, wait, a few more:

- Interpol Burger.

- Don't not think for a second I wouldn't be all over a Fall Out Boy version. Because I would.


tom said...

What are you, some Steinbeckian man-child? If you get a cat, I promise you won't accidentally crush it to death. That never happens.

Except, okay, this one cat we had named Malcolm liked to run through closing doors, and he got caught in a slamming one one time (which I might have been slamming), and his lungs filled with fluid and he died and it was roughly the saddest thing ever. Man.

Maybe the lesson is that cats and machines don't mix. Even simple machines.

The Governess said...

and i am nothing if not a simple machine, tom.

it's not like i WANT to crush a cat's skull, it's just that I have this weird fear that I MIGHT. I know, it's beyond insane. this is why i have a dog.