Friday, November 10, 2006

Wow, I have had so much to do lately, and while I have had some lovely time with some of my boys, a lot of my week has been tedious stuff that’s not going to make you hot to read about. But you know, I do get ragged on occasionally for never writing about non-glamorous activities. I am certainly not trying to present my life as one big leather-lined orgy, it’s simply that the minutia of my daily life doesn’t seem that interesting for ya’ll to read about. But, hey, you asked, so here it is: trivia!

My cat is better. (And seriously, thank you for all the sweet notes I got about that.) She’s not all the way well, but she’s looking much less like a furry rag with eyes and more like an actual ambulatory mammal. So she’s going to make it, but I was seriously wondering about that for a day or so there. Oh, here’s non-glamorous trivia for you: I missed the Bondage Party Sunday night because I had to take her in to the emergency vet. My loving pet clearly viewed my attempt to get her medical attention as a non-consensual kidnapping scene, and she took her revenge by peeing in my lap while the vet was examining her. And I paid several hundred dollars for the privilege of that experience. The smell of cat pee in the heated car on the way home was delightful, I can tell you. Luckily I had the simple wit to wear my oldest jeans.

What else? Well, I had a meeting with my financial advisor yesterday. After years of living completely off the financial grid, it’s still very strange to me that I now talk to people about retirement investments. He said he might need to talk to my tax preparer in order to make the final decision about exactly what kind of IRA would be best for me, and so without thinking, I pulled out my tax guy’s business card and gave it to him. And then I thought, dear god, I used to pay my rent in cash because I didn’t have a checking account. Now I have people – real professional people - talking to each other about my money. I feel like I’ve become one of the pod people. I mean, it’s a good thing and all, but it’s just so bizarre. I’m an outlaw, baby - and yet somehow, I’ve also become this grown-up lady. Trippy.

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