I blame it on the football.

The other day I found myself flipping through a rack of sweaters at the mall. I stopped at one that was an arresting shade of red and felt the fabric. Warm, thick, wool. It felt luscious. I picked it up, intending to head towards the dressing room. I made it no more than two steps when I remembered it was still over 100 degress outside. The sweater went right back on the rack.

I did it again last night, surfing NFL.com I picked out a cute new Raiders hoodie I had to have. Before clicking 'buy now' I looked out the window. Yep, still 100 degrees. I closed to NFL.com window.

I do this every year. Every year about this time I get sick of sun dresses & flip flops. But I love sun dresses and flip flops! Why do I yearn to bury them in my closet?

It's all the TV's fault. I see sweeping scenes of midwestern campuses as the announcer talks about the promise of fall in the air. I worry about if a Southern quarterback will be able to make it through an early December game right outside the beltway. I wonder how it is that every year, without fail, the Raiders get scheduled for a late December game in the Northeast.

So even though I was outside this morning cleaning the pool in my bathing suit, once I'm inside it's 80 degrees, and that is fall weather.

Your daily pussy.

Another quiet day here.

I have never met felines who are more curious about water. Everytime I go in the bathroom at least one of them follows me in. Found this one in the shower the other day, then the sink.

Your daily pussy.

Things are quiet around here.

Wake up.

Scoop cat litter.

Nap.

Feed cats.

Nap.

Swim.

Eat.

Sleep.

Your daily pussy.

I have been housesitting since Sunday and this is the first time this cat has come out of hiding.

He's fat.

Permanent Vacation

Let's face it, if you're unemployed, single, and have no children or pets, you really have no reason to get out of bed in the morning. No one will miss you at the office, no one will want you cleaning the house all day, and there will be no big brown eyes at the foot of the bed begging for a walk.
I could conceivably stay in bed for 2 days at a time. I have already developed a penchant for late night shows & sleeping until whenever I feel like getting up. I have no routine, I'm not exercising, and I have little ambition.
In an effort to act like a productive member of society I have decided I need to get out of the house everyday.
Today me & Cosmopolitan have taken up residence in a club chair at Steve's Espresso. I feel better already since I'm not the one here wearing orange jeans and cat-eye sunglasses nervously bouncing my leg.
The guy to my right I think is homeless. He rode up & parked his bike in front of the window, then ordered a coffee, sat down with a newspaper & fell asleep. Every time my phone beeps with a text message he opens his eyes & glares. Hey man, we're not at the library. Now that I look at him he has gold rings on each hand & an ipod. Is that the face of homelessness in America now?

Drink: Iced triple mocha; Eat: Mini cinnamon roll, made in house, from scratch

I decided to get out of bed today.

This is what I found outside.

Hello Lover!

It's the little things in life that make me happy.


The box said pink, but I think it's more of a lilac. What should I name her?