Not Really

Bear with me. I don't always spell things correctly, and I'm not really sure what I'll write in a blog, though my original idea started with this:
"Catta-what? ooh-- I could title each entry with a new word! One could be catta-dict (for how much I like cats), and one could be catta-tonic (about how tired I'll be after this round of finals), and one could be catta-clysmic (for one of the many ridiculous situations my car and I will probably survive in the near future), and one could be catta-racts (for how blind I am without my glasses, and what happened because...), and one could be catta-log (of complaints? of advice? of websites?), and ..."
It was just an idea. Now I'm more interested in making you laugh.

Yes. I like cats-- and some dogs, and even babies, as long as I can give them back after an hour or so. Small drooly soft beings that require us to buy extra equipment for their beds and their car rides and their potty habits and their teeth and their entertainment and their delicate tummies and their need for exercise. I used to be afraid of dogs-- especially big dogs with long tongues. Its really disconcerting to walk up to a friend's house and find that you are the exact height of the dog's tongue (I was five), and he ain't afraid to use it! I was glad to get taller then that. Then I learned that big dogs can rear up on their hind legs, so that they are STILL the exact height of your face-- and if they weigh more than you when they rear up... Its actually more difficult to get away from a dog when it is above you than when it is beside you. I was afraid of dogs because I knew there was no escaping them. Then I was left alone with an 85-pound pitbull mix for a year (I was 25). I was responsible for her physical health, her mental well-being, for cleaning up before and after her, and for keeping her from licking any unsuspecting children. I... was... responsible. I am not really afraid of dogs, their tongues, or their potty habits anymore. There are even specific dogs that I really enjoy. But I like cats.

(Hi, Aussie-- I know you are reading this, and yes- you are one of the dogs I enjoy.) Aussie is very smart. She knows three languages, if you include "Dog." But she's not mine to brag about.

And yes- I'm going to school right now. Graduate School. Its the All-American pastime, and those of us who chose this route do it because we really HOPE it will eventually lead to a job with high enough pay to counteract all the debt we incurred to qualify for the job. I love going to school, but I do often wonder if those people who skip school and earn their qualifications through hands-on experience and basic know-how don't have the smarter career plan. These are the people who will eventually train me to actually do the work my future job requires.

And yes- I own a car. Its been through a lot with me. Five moves. An 85-pound dog. Blinding snow storms that only existed in the five miles around my house, so I still had to go to work. Several different tastes in bumper stickers. A random five-car pile-up that happened on a 25-mph road, squarely in front of a busy emergency room at a major hospital, and everybody refused to ride in the ambulance that the police officer HAD to call anyway. (I was not at fault. Of course, nobody else felt that they were at fault either.) Like I said-- we've been through a lot together.

And so... I leave you.

(I've recently watched the movie, "Much Ado About Nothing," from MGM in 1993. If you've recently watched the movie, this ending may make sense. If not... then sigh no more, and let it go. Passion, love, hate, humor, rumor, sheeps guts, premarital sex, marriage, war, murder, Keanu Reeves, Michael Keaton, and Denzel Washington all in the same movie-- you'd probably find it boring anyway.)