We've been working on my latest book for a year now, and there have been lots of words written and lots of words thrown away, and lots of sitting here going, Hmmm, and then more writing and more tossing.
The words we tossed were pretty freaking sweet, but they were a little repetitive; I either touched on things too similar in my other books or here in the blog and repetitive is no good.
Now, this book is kind of like me just thinking out loud about things.
So you can help.
What topics--for reals--would you like me to write about in the book? I've kind of touched on why people need to let us help them get better, and about clearing out the clutter in your brain to get better thinks. I talked about my wait problem. Boobies. Having to work.
I've got more than half a book here, but it needs more.
Yet, that's what the Woman called me today. And she said it like it was a good thing! I wandered into her office to see if she had any crunchies on hand and to get a head skritch, and when she saw me she said, "Oh, hey, Bug."
First it was "Buddy" and then it was "Bub" and now BUG?
Bug are toys. Bugs are the things from which one rips off the wings and little legs. Bugs are the things outside animals eat for protein. I DON'T EVEN GO OUTSIDE.
I really wish she understood cat, because I've got a new name for her, and it rhymes with "witch."
He's nine years old.
Nine long years.
It's hard to believe that I've been putting up with him that long.
This was last night. He looks annoyed, like he's giving the Woman the Back of Disrespect, but doods, he's asleep. SNORING. He sat down like he was going to watch TV or something, and the next thing we know he's sawing logs like an old man.
He had the birthday he wanted, though. He got to nap right in the middle of the big bed, and when the Woman came home he got crunchy treats, and then a new nip toy. And tonight when we get our snack, I'm going to save him the last 2 bites of mine.
No, I don't like him that much. It's just the nice thing to do on someone's birthday.
I'm glad he had a good one. Maybe that means he'll leave me the fark alone tonight.
All right. So last night the Woman went to sleep around 1 in the morning, as is pretty typical. She GOES to bed around 11:30, but she reads and watches Craig Ferguson before actually trying to sleep.
And this is fine. This does not impact me at all. I'm usually in another room taking a nap, and don't really care what time she goes to sleep.
At 4:15, or thereabouts, I have taken to going into the bedroom, jumping up onto the bed right next to her head, and whispering in her ear until she opens and eye and gives me head skritches. Most of the time she doesn't seem to mind; she does it sleepily and goes right back to sleep when I jump off the bed.
I come back around 6:30 to start reminding her that I'm hungry, and would not be opposed to her getting up and feeding me before the Man gets home from passing gas. This is when she gets grumpy, as if a reminder every 5 minutes is not a good thing.
But this morning?
She has turned into a warm person, and I don't mean personality-wise. She just doesn't get cold like a normal person does, not until it's close to freezing. So last night she went to bed and didn't turn the warm air blowing thingy on, and by 6:30 it was COLD in the house.
Not her. She kept sleeping like everything was just fine.
So I started trying to wake her up. And she started saying mean things to me. So I ramped it up and instead of asking her to get up every 5 minutes, I did it every 5 seconds.
Doods. Did you know the Bad Word List is probably 7 pages longer than we supposed?
She was not nice. She did not give me head skritches. She kept telling me to shut the frak up and told me to go get bent.
I kept TELLING her I was cold, but no, she wasn't listening. She thought I wanted food.
Well, I did, but I mostly wanted warm.
When the Man got up today he told her how cold it was in here when he got home, and THEN she felt bad. Like, WTH? She should have felt bad when I was TELLING HER IT WAS COLD.
And really? I don't even know HOW to get bent. I'm pretty flexible. I have no idea what she expects.
I'm waking her at 3:30 tonight, and I'm not even going to let her pet me.
And I don't know about you guys but so far I'm really digging the time change. I haven't even had to remind the people that dinnertime is in an hour; by the time my tummy tells me to start giving them a reminder every 2 minutes, it's time and they're opening a can. And this morning, when I thought it was time to wake the Woman up and let her know that I expected her to get up in an hour to feed me, the Man came home from passing gas and fed me.
I know they're both hoping it stays like this, but really? We all know in a week I'll adjust and will go back to my gentle reminders. But for now, everyone is happy.
Well, except that cat on the treadmill. He's *really* hungry by now...
Yep, an arteest. That's like an artist, but you say it with your pinky stuck out while slurping down tea or stupid drinks. You have to say it that way because his work is going to be displayed in a real artists' gallery, alongside paintings and pottery and other artsy things.
A few weeks ago he was invited to submit his pens and stuff to the jury for the gallery, and last week they voted him in, so starting next week people can go into the Artists' Collaborative Gallery in Old Sacramento to see and buy his stuff.
Now, he's going to keep his Etsy shop because he has a lot of inventory, but some of the stuff that's in his Etsy store will probably be taken down so that he can display a few key things in the gallery.
So...if you've had your eye on something in his store, now's the time to grab it, just in case it's one of the things he takes down in order to show it in the gallery.
If it's been a while since you peeked, he has some new pen styles, some really spiffy things...like this Pluma Acrylic pen. The Woman says this kind of pen fits in the hand really well so it's become her favorite.
So, yeah...for the last week the people have been paying attention to art stuff and not enough to me, but once he has all his stuff set up in the gallery, that should change.
It better change.
Oh and doods, remind your people to set their clocks forward before they go to bed tonight. Daylight Savings Time starts at 2 am! THAT MEANS BREAKFAST WILL FEEL LIKE AN HOUR EARLY!
Yep, two weeks from today--on Buddah's birthday--the Woman is getting her head shaved at this event where people get their heads shaved in order to raise money for the St. Balderick's Foundation. They do for kids' cancers what the boobie walking things do for breast cancer. And there must be a common thread because judging by the Woman's appearance, screwing around with hair is like a priority.
Just look at it. Her hair has been pink a lot for the boobies. In January it was this crimson for another boobie thing (and now it looks reallllly bad, all faded and choppy and chit) and for St. Baldrick's they're taking all her hair away.
Now, Buddah is convinced that the whole thing is for him and that she raised money on his behalf because he never gets to do fundraisers, and that she's going to get her head shaved because he's not allowed out of the house to get it done to his own head.
We can leave him his illusions.
Though...I really would like to see someone shave him. Just for the chits and giggles.
Oh man, I just had a thought. Maybe we can dye his furs for money! WE'LL TURN HIM BLUE!
There has to be a way. There just has to be a way...