Andare, Partire, Tornare

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Mrrrrrrowwwww...I neeeeedddd sexxxxx

Decided to postpone the trip to State College until Friday, so my sister could come without worrying about being back in town early. Today is mighty slow, because most people are out sick or on vacation, and there's just not much that needs doing. So I spend some time in the gallery, watching a couple of schoolgroups come through (they had a blast) and then cruising the Institute of Official Cheer website. Inbetween these sorts of timekilling events, I'm typing up art history notes and listening to U2's Achtung Baby on my computer. And filing my nails.

I want it to be January 1 so I can start using my Edward Gorey calendar.

I want it to be Friday so I can get this trip over with, and can start buying the last few Christmas presents.

Princess Grace, the new cat, is most definitely in heat, and we're just going to have to put up with her intermittent yowling because I HAVE NO MONEY. She needs to be spayed and to have a tooth removed (it's one of the big fang teeth, and it was snapped to the gumline. No idea how, she had it when we found her.) Hopefully, I'll be able to take care of her in Feb, because I'll be done paying for the car repair by then.

Poor Gracie is following my big male cat around, begging to get laid. Bogie is very disturbed by this, because up until now, the only attention he's gotten from her is the occasional hiss and swat to the head when he's wandered too close to her foodbowl. Plus, he has no balls, so the whole butt-waggling thing she's doing in front of him is really lost on his little kitty brain. I was describing her predicament to my friend A, who noted that she felt a lot like Grace - can't get laid, and it's too scary to go outside and find some strange, and thus you feel compelled to sit at home at night and yowl.

Damnit, I need to come up with better names for my friends than a letter. I promised to think about it, didn't I?

Ok. T, my beloved husband, will henceforth be known as Bemo, because that's his established nickname anyhow. I usually call him Babe, which is terribly retro of me, but that's not a good diaryname for him. No dignity. Of course, he calls me Princess Angel Butt, which is not exactly dignified either, is it?

My friend C, the schoolteacher, is now Cherbear. From which you can probably guess her real name, but I doubt that'll be a problem.

A, my dear, I know you read this diary, so if you want to name yourself, feel free. If not, I'll probably just call you Persia, largely because of your Persian Cat/Persian Carpet decorating theory.

My sister B can stick with my established nickname for her, Boop.

Hmm, who else? My roommate Z can stay Z, but I'll change the spelling to Zee. Because it's a letter that fits her so well, it doesn't need changing.

These are the people who make regular appearances in my diary, so if I've left anybody out, it's probably because I don't talk about them too often. Names will come for them later, when they make new appearances.

Phew, that was stressful on the brain, and the end result wasn't all that creative, but ah, well..whatever works.

12:42 p.m. - 2001-12-19

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