Dull and boring, that's me! Zzzzzz

My life has been so, so boring this week, which is why I haven't really bothered posting. I am too dull: I get up in the morning, after having been awakened by Clyde, who has been quarantined in a spare bedroom this week after he discovered how to escape a basement room with only a waist-high false wall (it took him about 3 days - he's not a confident jumper yet). Clyde has been yowling at about 3:30 or 4 a.m. for the past few nights, for about 15 minutes each time. I curse silently when this happens, so as not to wake Booby, who didn't want this cat in the first place. And then I remind myself that if I ever have a baby, I'll actually have to GET UP and tend to her needs, instead of rolling over and putting the duvet over my head. So, really, I don't have it that bad. But I have had a hard time waking up. Clyde goes vetward this weekend, so he should soon be de-verminated and able to mingle freely with the other kitties (and won't they be thrilled!).

The rest of my time has been consumed with work (the Unbloggable), cooking dinner (nothing interesting, I'm afraid, although may I heartily recommend Mark Bittman's bulgur pilaf recipe? It is the bomb, and if you want it let me know and I'll email it to you), and watching Cycle 6 of America's Next Top Model while fighting with my husband, because nothing does wonders for a woman's self esteem like watching a 2-hour program riddled with hot (but unbearably stupid) model-types with a median age of 21, while suffering PMS. Already, I hate, hate, HATE* Jade, first off because she refers to herself in the third person** and second, because my husband thinks she's "striking." Thanks, honey - I needed that. And she's from my hometown, so I should be feeling the love, but ... see reasons 1 and 2. I am sure that my pal Mr. Baggins will chime in on his picks for this season. Every six months we enjoy this heated debate. He always roots for the skinny, gawky girls. But there are no real gawky types this time, so I'm guessing he'll root for Brooke.

But back to my boring life. I also hate all my clothes, so I think I may have to buy myself this to kill the pain. And then go a little wild in the thrift store with Arabella when she comes to visit. Really, I just need a giant makeover, so perhaps this weekend I'll finally get a haircut (Jess, the generous maker of mix CDs, got a new haircut that I admire a great deal), get rid of some bad clothes, and have a (long overdue) shuffle through my makeup drawer.

*Is it wrong to hate someone you don't know with such white-hot intensity? After one episode? I must need a Midol or something. Yeesh. I promise that I also love some TV people immediately, too, like Nick Arrojo, whom I would love to cut my hair and then give me a big hug.

**I have had a problem with that shit since I was in 2nd grade and Mrs. Davis, my bully of a teacher, committed this very sin in conversation with her students - this, to me, is a sure sign of an unhinged wacko. She also used to pray out loud for a "bag of patience" from the Lord to help her deal with us unruly brats. Usually this happened whenever we asked a question she didn't know the answer to. About 5 years ago her son bought the house I grew up in from my parents. I try not to think about it.