Meow?

Hello world.

I haven't had much to say because life is so NORMAL.  Which is weird in and of itself.  No live action fruit ninja fights outside the dorm.  I love home.  I love normal.  But what can I write about it?  You GUYS.  I went to bed at ELEVEN.  And got up at EIGHT.  And then I WATERED PLANTS.  And PRACTICED the PIANO.  And learned how to COOK some of my mom's recipes.  WOOOO Look out world!

Isn't that the best?

But a few things have been going on.  I got a job.  It's... well it's a job.  I work at an Inn, which is fun when it's super busy, although on the slow days I think the wall has a permanent indentation from where I bang my head into it.  I work the front desk, meaning I answer phones, make reservations, check people in and out, etc...  And like I said, when it's busy it's a blast.  So many unexpected questions come up that there's no way I could be trained on dealing with every situation.  (On the first day someone asked me about the differing sizes of the tubs.  Wha?)  This is a very couples based business, expert in special occasions.  Ah the Inn, where everybody is super in love, except the front desk worker.  Yours truly.

Which brings me to my next point.  I've done something I swore I would never do.  I mocked these people unceasingly, made means jokes about it, slated it for the weird and too sentimental.  I've...  I've...  I've fallen in love with my cat*  Save me.  I woke up one morning with him sleeping on my shoulder and instead of getting up and chucking him off the roof like I normally would have, I laughed.  Laughed and thought it was frickin' adorable.

I'm turning into a legitimate cat lady.

Not only do I love my cat, but my parents have turned in to cool people.  Seriously.  I love hanging out with them.  Did you know they're hysterical?  Cause they are.  If they were in a cool contest, they'd be ice and your parents would be lukewarm tap water.**

Someone set me up.  Boys are foreign creatures right now.  They're either on missions or home for the summer, or away on summer adventures.  Obviously work doesn't provide many options because while yeah, I've met many a cute guy, they're all MARRIED.  And home wrecking has really never been an option for me.  So unless next to my piano, or the corner of Barnes and Nobles becomes a really hot hang out spot, it's looking like a solo summer.  And you know what I say to that?  GOOD.  After months and months of being social all the fudging time, I love being on my own.***  But still call me if you want to hang out.  Chances are I still like YOU.  And want to hear from you and catch up and all that crap.  I'm just not in the mood to go clubbing in the hopes of snagging a man.

I guess for now all my affection is reserved for the cat.  Winston.  Or Melville.  Or Mumford.  Or Wayne. We tried name him like eight times but nothing stuck.  He gets all my snuggles that lucky creature.

* I did not choose to have this cat in my defense.  It was an unfortunate circumstances and a horribly botched attempt at being thoughtful.  True to Gish-style.  Ask me about it in person because really, it's too embarrassing to talk about here.  Actually don't ask me about it.  It's too embarrassing to talk about anywhere.

**This is mostly because they listen to NPR with me.  So mostly likely I'm moving to their level.  Suddenly the idea of gardening?  FASCINATING.  Learning about different types of bike valves?  FASCINATING.  Listening to old Talking Heads songs and laughing at David Byrnes suit?  So. Much. FUN.

***Unless you really want to set me up.  Which I'd also be totally ok with.