November 5, 2007
When did it become November?
This is what a busy weekend at my domicile of residence looks like:
That is the Sobatator, making sure the freshly washed and dried towels are fully furred before being allowed back in the cupboard.
As soon as she sees me with the laundry basket she starts following me and finally, because these cats are spoilt rotten, I give in and let her decorate the warm laundry with her butt. She can sit there quietly keeping the laundry from escaping for hours:
Laundry is not safe from the Sobanator. I have to lint roller whatever was on top of the pile when she finally removes herself from it, usually hours later. And speaking of the lint roller, other forms of craziness in our house are calico in nature. This is one very badly done home video of me and Frankie (Frankie is a cat who does not meow, she whines like a baby and it's annoying and also strange because she sometimes sounds eerily human) in which Frankie gets lint-rollered:
Have you ever seen a cat so excited about a damn lint roller?
On Sunday I got up Painfully Early and went to get some inspiration and afterwards I met up for breakfast with Faith and Allison at a great diner in Culver City called Dinah's. Later when I got home I was doing more of the aforementioned dreaded and soon-to-be-refurred laundry and trying to get stuff accomplished before setting out again for another trip and I walked into the bedroom to put some clothes away.
Bob and Frankie were all stretched out on the bed in a big pool of sunshine and the sheets were all fresh and I just sat on the bed for a minute -- just a minute -- to pet on the cats all splayed out and showing me their fluffy bellies and before I knew it I was taking a nap. ME. I am many things, but a napper is not one one of them (napper - no. Gangsta rapper - yes.) I have not taken a nap in years, no really, I mean YEARS. I kind of woke up about ten minutes into my nap and thought, "I have to get up!" but Bob stretched his legs out so that the very pinkest part of his toes rested lightly on my arm, something that has never happened before. Roy used to do that all the time, just needing something of him to be touching something of me. So I stayed still.
I closed my eyes. From time to time I would feel myself waking up, feeling guilty, because I'm supposed to be doing this, completing that, fixing that one thing, sewing on a button, vacuuming, reading that book before this weekend, finding that document about that other thing, putting together the cabinet for the office, cleaning the catbox, calling that person back... but then Soba got on the bed too and curled up behind my knees and I just gave into it. Slept for almost two hours, which if you knew me would shock you.
For people who have trouble sleeping, a nap is like a miraculous gift, kind of like checking the pockets of your jeans before washing them and instead of finding a fiver, you find a stack of hundreds. The cats nap all the time, maybe I could learn a thing or two from them.
And just so we don't end this one with Bob feeling left out, here he is in a late-night picture, grainy because he's scared of the flash but still bobaliciously cute:
Also, if you are new to Los Angeles, let me remind you to leave work extra-early today. You don't believe me now, but trust me: this is one of the worst traffic days of the entire year. On the Monday after Daylight Savings Time ends, the city gets dark earlier and you will find that in the months of summer and lazy sun-filled afternoons and evenings people have lost the ability to drive in the dark. There will be gridlock and honking. Trust me, I know of what I speak.
My city may be crazy, but at least it is predictably crazy.
Posted by laurie at November 5, 2007 9:22 AM