I once had a suitor who would exclusively use the term “imma” in place of “I am going to” in text messages. I thought it was adorable. Now I think it’s dumb and I expend most of my energy pining for someone who doesn’t text message, ever, and doesn’t own a phone, which forces me to leave tangible love notes all over the place and gaze wistfully out the window wondering when he’s coming home because I have no idea. You develop a sense.
Though this former fellow now has no bearing on my life, I do catch myself using “imma”, in my head mostly. (Thankfully.) Think it through, Quinn— Imma give you these cats.
My younger cousin, WHO IS IN TOWN TO CELEBRATE HER 21st BIRTHDAY, WOO!, once again reminds me of the things I wish I had but sadly do not. The teabag holder! What foresight!
Be still, my heart. No wonder I can’t get any work done.
Ever wonder who is better– Cat Stevens or cats? Don’t worry. Our Australian import settles the score, with her submission: Never Mind the Buzzcocks. PS: Don’t give cats acid, and another stories.
Mon bon croissant fromage frere, wordlessly, sends me this. “Two Faced Kitten in Good Hands”. Speaks for itself, naturally.
from MOLLY our FLORIDA CAT CORRESPONDENT
Molly’s image speaks to my introduction better than I could have done myself.
Hi there, grey rain day. You are perfect for doing-work-inside and drinking-tea-in-yoga-pants. Work? Cancelled. Class? Cancelled? Which is great because biking in the rain is abominable.