i should be doing homework, right?

got some reading done this afternoon, but i'll have to go over it again tomorrow. my face is in the shape of "quoi?" this evening when i think about the basics of modern political theory and the effects of realism on contemporary diplomatic strategy. maybe i at least sound smart when i talk about what confuses me. takes a big head to fit all those big words, and i have just the hat collection to prove it.

so it looks like the plan to get rid of the trees is gone. for now they have some ultrasonic thingabobbydoodle that helps them calm down and quit pooping on everyone so much. now they probably just take aim on their adversaries. don't ask me - i've only ever been hit once on the side of the car while passing under the birdy social club, and i'm pretty sure it was just from some bird making another bird laugh until they peed. that's an understandable mishap. we've all wet our pants in public at one time or another.

the boys have decided to infest the desk again. they're like little cat gargoyles that follow me around while her highness tries to claim every other spot in the house for herself. stuart copeland is, as usual, laying across my wrists while i type or google and simultaneously burrowing his forehead into the crook of my elbow, a position that can only guarantee that i waste more time looking up historical figures that share my birthday. bubba is kind enough to wander the top of the desk, jump down a step and hog the seating, then shuffle off to go splay on the rug.

holy mofo.

ahoy, i have done it at last.

stuart has finally, FINALLY been coaxed into a cat yodel! my sidekick kitty just removed his forehead from burrowing just long enough for me to rearrange my hand. when i scooted my wrist over, my non-muttering kitty meowed and let me shake him about just long enough to get the teeniest, squeakiest yodel. EEE! am i a sick person for taking joy in such a passing thing? no no no stuart, you don't have to get up now. see there? comfy now? my wrist will survive without circulation, but i can't survive without the cuteness. me likee squeaky.

there's no way i can get any homework done after this.



when my hand gets feeling again:
i'll tell you about my weekend. (but liz, i thank you for the inside info. that's what i call dodging an attitude bullet.) and i'll make derek tell about the scooters...