I know Perkins has done some packing stuff, because she emailed me about some items to see if they wanted to come live with me.

I just infuriated Trininan, the eldest cat. She's very fuzzy, and hates being brushed, so she gets mats. I just her down and removed a few. Yowling ball of DEATH, poor fuzzwump. I've locked her in the bathroom with the catnip sausage in the hopes that she calms down enough that I don't have to give her Xanax.

the emperor has no clothes besides a feather boa and ruby slippers.

I have a sudden desire to see Mr. Bachmann at some conserative fundraiser suddenly stand up, say "I'm sorry, Michelle, but I can't life a lie any more," then whip off his coat to reveal said feather boa and slippers, belt out something from "Gypsy" and sashay out as the good fundamentalists all drop their cigars and drinks in their laps.

Jilli, have you tried corn starch on Matriarch Trinian? It's astounding how well that stuff breaks up mats. Of course, everyone, the furniture, and everything else will have corn starch on it, but the cat will be amazingly soft and fluffy.

Good stuff, brenda!

Jilli, have you tried corn starch on Matriarch Trinian? It's astounding how well that stuff breaks up mats. Of course, everyone, the furniture, and everything else will have corn starch on it, but the cat will be amazingly soft and fluffy.

I had never heard of this! Trinian is pretty badly matted, though. But if I do get desperate enough to try the corn starch method, I promise to film the chaos.

Why do I feel like I haven't gotten anything done?

I got up, read a little, read the internet, read some more, ate too much food...and then went to see a movie with a friend and had some dinner with her. And then got a cupcake. And checked out the new gym that's only two blocks away, as opposed to my current gym which is FOUR blocks away.

Also, my enthusiastic "I'm running! Go Couch to 5K" from yesterday has resulted in me being crippled and barely able to walk today. OW. OW. Stupid calves.

Oh, dear God. I am so unready for parenting a school-age child. We just finished a 3-hour epic bout of homework. The homework consisted of drawing a baby panda, copying a sentence I'd written at her dictation ("My favorite part of I Am A Little Panda was when the panda was born"), and writing her name in one corner. Three hours of delaying, dawdling, procrastinating, squirming, sighing, groaning that she was bored/tired from all the moving ("Doing homework IS moving, Mom!"), tangled up in a grocery bag, achy, afraid, sad, hungry, poopy, and I don't even remember what. Finally Hec had to come in and bully her into copying down the last couple dozen letters. AGONY.

Dear God, someday we're going to have to shepherd her through term papers and theses and college applications. Maybe we'll luck out and Western Civilization will have collapsed by then.

She's very fuzzy, and hates being brushed, so she gets mats.

My parents have one of those in Sputnik. And the thing is, this is a cat you cannot contain (dude, she climbs walls!) They have to surreptitiously go at her mats with an envelope opener (where the razor is set in a v of plastic.) And if they get one a day, that's miraculous. She really doesn't like being messed with AT ALL.

I'll have to mention the cornstarch option to them.

PERKINS??

I know Perkins has done some packing stuff, because she emailed me about some items to see if they wanted to come live with me.

I got a fair amount done this morning, but I seem to have stalled out, because I kind of feel like crap. I'm hoping dinner will make me feel better.

Continued nudging appreciated though, just to make me get off the sofa.