Big pout
My friend in D.C. met Ryan Adams. Met him! Didn't just go to his concert, although she gave me full details of it, which I muchly appreciated. So jealous. But so happy for her, too. In a "if it can't be me, I'm glad it's her" kind of way.

Under the weather, or, Bad Kitty
I have a serious case of winter blahs setting in. I despise the cold (as I'm sure I've said numerous, numerous times) and my body tends to shut down in 30 degree-or-below conditions, even if I'm indoors. So I spent almost all of Sunday parked on the couch. I had a brief cleaning frenzy but that was just out of guilt.

Plus, thanks to a certain black and white cat, I lost many precious hours of sleep Sunday morning. Here's how it started... usually, Dom sleeps with us at the foot of the bed. For some reason, Sunday at about 4:15, he decided that he needed some attention. So he comes up in between us and starts going "CHEEPpurrrrrrCHEEPpurrrrCHEEPpurrr" non-stop. I try to ignore him when he does this so he realizes it's not an effective way to get attention. But he is persistent, so finally, I picked him up and threw him off, but by then I was so awake that the pop-up thought bubbles started to haunt me. A bit of tossing and turning convinced me that I was not falling back asleep anytime soon, so I got up and read, in its entirety, Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin. Which, if you've seen the movie, it's exactly the same. Almost word for word. Which is unusual for a book that's adapted into a screenplay. Finally, at about 7:30, I went back to bed.

At about 8:30, I was once again awakened by bad kitty. This time he was batting a Starlight Mint around on the floor right outside the bedroom. I was pissed that I was awake again, and double pissed because I knew he got it off the kitchen counter, which is a Forbidden Area for him.

So I got up for the day after that, to avoid the pop-up thoughts that crowd into my brain at every opportunity... and was thus extra grumpy yesterday. If that Dom wasn't so darn cute I would still be pissed.

I did, however, go in and tackle him while he was sleeping, just 'cause I'm a brat like that. It kind of made up for everything.