Beware of Cats With Gifts

Well, the good news is that the kitty I thought was gone for good is still around the neighborhood. The bad news is that she never seems to know what to get you for a gift. She was so proud, too. We can always regift it I guess.

It's Midnight. Do You Know Where Your Parents Are?

My neighbor kids do not, apparently.

They are outside my window letting off fireworks, trying to incur my wrath. I just asked them to stop doing that last night. Same bat time. I really don't want to stay up all night making sure they don't set my roof or tree on fire. Where the fuck are the parents? I think they are actually there, and are aware of what they are doing. They just don't give a damn.
There are three of these kids. One is riding a dirt bike down the street with no headlights on, taking a shortcut through my lawn. Then he revs up the shitty engine, right outside the room where Violet is finally sleeping.
Grrrr. I am about to be pissed off if I have to go tell them again.

This is why I plan on putting privacy hedges around the entire property: keep asshole unsupervised kids out, block some of the noise out, and let them know they are not welcome to ride through the yard. I've already started a hedge fund (puns, they rule) because I want some serious Edward Scissorhand's mansion hedges. I mean like a twenty foot high inpenetrable wall of doom!

The kitty that showed up today is still outside. I think it's a girl kitten. I'm trying to think of a name for her. Maybe Gemma. No reason.

Books, Cats... Great Day To Be A Geek!

Today I received three pieces of mail. First, the bad news: the IRS says they need me to sign my form before they send me my refund (although I clearly remember signing it, and the jerks I paid to do my taxes surely would have noticed, right?) The second was a book (Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs) from PaperBackSwap. Good thing, because I was ready for a new book. I read his other book, Running With Scissors, last week and it was pretty good, in a sick kind of way. Apparently there is a movie of it and everyone else on the planet already read it like two years ago, but I don't keep up with trends. I live in West Virginia. You're lucky I can read, people.
But I have saved the best for last, just like that horrible song everyone always plays at weddings says. The third piece of mail was Everything Is Wrong With You: The Modern Woman's Guide To Finding Self-Confidence Through Self-Loathing by Wendy Molyneux. She sent it because she was so very dazzled by my wit that she thought I needed a prize. (okay, really I was runner-up in a contest on her blog in which she asked readers to name fictional book titles for people with low expectations. I changed Charles Dickens' "Great Expectations" to "Realistic Expectations.")

Also, an unexpected visitor showed up this afternoon. He, or she- I haven't checked, came running across the street while I was outside. I treated him or her to chicken strips and a bowl of water. Last I checked he or she was still sitting on my porch. Violet will be very happy to see this guest when she wakes up, which will be any time now.