Missy brought her home two days ago. Right now she lives in a tall bin lined all around with our fluffiest towels until we can get something proper to house her.
She has a lazy eye and is bow-legged AND I LOVE HER. We feed her from a bottle, it's the cutest thing. When I told Marc Anthony about her (rather, how I was up all night in intervals making sure she wasn't hungry), he said, "Really? She drinks from a bottle?? But... where do you get the milk?"
"You mean like... Enfamil? They HAVE that for CATS? OH MY GOSH!"
It amuses me greatly that he knows what Enfamil is, and calls it that instead of 'baby formula'.
I photographed her while she slept, like a creepy stalker. The PS2 controller is next to her to show size.
SO TINY. If you have a PS2 controller, go look at it. Now imagine that it was alive, and curled up on your chest purring and sleeping while you watch the Discovery Channel. That's what she is like.
Alas, there is a problem. She has no name. At least, not one we can agree on.
What we've been through:
-All sorts of car names. Missy thinks it would be awesome to have a cat named after a car. He started laughing wildly when he suggested RX-7. I didn't think it was that cool.
-Thunder: Because of her storm-cloud colouring and in loving memory of the fallen Warriors hero. We nixed it because there is now an annoying suck-ass basketball team and we would rather not people think we named our cat after an annoying suck-ass basketball team.
-Buffalo Bill. Too long, and she's not a boy.
-Clarice (aka Lil' Mama). We don't want her to count her change every five minutes.
-Storm. Hi, she is not one of the X-Men.
-Uniqua. Yes, I think that's funny but... there is so much wrong with it.
-Paris. I suggested this in jest because it really pisses Missy off when I tell him that Brussels and Moscow are in Paris, and why doesn't he know his Geography?
-Andrisa. SHUT UP.
There were a lot of others, but that's pretty much where we're at. Any cute cat name suggestions? It has to be more than one syllable.
Marc Anthony joined me for lunch tonight. Every time I see him now, I start laughing. I can't help it. Enfamil. I don't think he understands why I am always in such a good mood when I see him now, and that is ok. He doesn't have to know that I am crazy.
Everyone else does, though. Once upon a damn, it's been too long, Courtney and I tried to watch The Land Before Time. We call it The Land Before Tim, because that is funny. We went to a video store and tried to rent it after it had disappeared from OnDemand, and wouldn't you know it, it wasn't there.
"Maybe some stupid baby vomited Enfamil on it and ruined it forever." she told me.
That is why Enfamil, all by itself, will always be funny. If you augment the humour with the fact that a boy named MARC ANTHONY of all things, who bought a shoe because Jennifer yelled at him (just one shoe), knows what Enfamil is? That is endlessly hilarious. It's almost as good as ending a story, any story, by saying 'OH MY GOD' instead of 'The End'.
Anyhow, as I was sitting on my little bench, taking my break, Marc Anthony walks up and greets me.
"You on your lunchbreak?"
"Yes. Thank God."
"I wish I could be on my lunchbreak."
"When did you get in?"
"Here till midnight, then?"
"It's cool. I'm just waiting for Vicente."
"Who?" I asked, my jaw going totally slack with puzzlement. Like an idiot.
"The guy I was with when I came in earlier. He's on his lunch right now."
"Ahh, ok. I feel bad, not knowing all your names. You guys know ours. I mean, I know Christian and Deedee, but that's because they hang out."
"Deedee is always in your store!" he said, laughing.
And then I called him the wrong name, because I am deaf and when he introduced himself to me I heard something else. After I had just told him how bad I felt about not knowing names. Clearly, I am a genius. I am also very classy, because during this whole conversation I had a cigarette wedged in my little fake pompadour, as if it were a hip fashion accessory rather than a stick of death. I had no pockets and that seemed the answer.
"It's cool," he told me, when I tried to explain to him that I was deaf and misheard his name. "Sometimes I come to work... you know... loaded, so I was probably mumbling or something."
He said this as his boss walked by. Is there no end to the hilarity?
I asked him the time, to make sure I wouldn't be late back to work, and in the darkness, it appeared he was wearing a watch.
"No clue," he told me.
"Aren't you wearing a watch?"
"What, this?" he said, fingering the wrist adornment I had thought was a watch. "No, this is just one of those God bracelets that all the Filipinos wear."
At this, I couldn't help myself. I started cackling like a mad scientist. The Enfamil, the boss hearing that he's loaded, and now Filipino God bracelets?? Are you kidding?
"The GOD bracelets that all the Filipinos wear?" I asked him incredulously, still laughing.
"Yeah! Haven't you ever seen them? We all wear them. You just wait. Pretty soon, you'll notice. You'll start seeing them everywhere."
Just then, his Nextel squawked.
"Base to Target," came the scratchy voice of Vicente from the phone.
"Target, go ahead."
He held the phone close to his ear, waiting for the response.
"I got your soda," came the heinously loud reply. He jumped back a foot and tore the phone from his ear. "It is in the icebox."
"Target to base, thanks." he said, and clipped the phone back on his belt. I expected him to ditch me just then and heed the siren song of the icebox.
"See? It's all good. Now I am deaf, too."
He's also apparently for Prop 8 because even though he's an active Catholic and wears a God bracelet, he thinks all people should be able to be happy. He also thinks Jesus must have been really high a lot of the time, and that God 'put some gay into the water' for a reason. He also wears a diamond stud in one ear which I find remarkably hilarious because of Warriors reasons.
So, on my 20 minute lunchbreak we covered:
-Terms of respect vs. Terms of endearment
-Mexican men jumping out of bushes
-Age and its implications
-Where we live
All that was missing was a comment about Enfamil. Courtney and Jamie are conversationally engaging in the very same way. For the love of Pete, why can't I have these people with me on all my lunchbreaks?
Firenze told me that Marc Anthony was 'immature and stupid'.
"But that's only what Deedee told me," she amended. "And Deedee is a hater."
Deedee seems to be a hater. That, or I'm just as immature and stupid. I would bet money on the latter.
Either way, it was good. Only when I saw Jennifer being picked up for her own lunch did I have to cut things short and sprint back to work.
After work, I had to drive over to the bank (which has apparently now merged with Wachovia) to deposit my check. My bank exists in supermarkets, mostly. It is rare that you see an actual branch office. After depositing my check, I headed to the far door.
I passed an Asian man walking in, who was wearing scrubs. Just for crazy's sake, I turned around and took a look at his wrist.
HE WAS WEARING A GOD BRACELET.
I really will see them everywhere.
Also Debbie came into my work and she is tinting my brows and lashes for free on Monday. Surprisingly, it's because she wants to build up her before and after portfolio rather than because I was friends with/lived with her two stepsons, respectively. She still lives in the same place, and has apparently converted part of it into a spa.
You know what that means? It means I live a block and a half away from the chick who will probably give me facials for the rest of my life. The only reason I even got the opportunity was because I overheard her mentioning the name of the street that I live on to Jennifer and asked her why she was talking about it.
If I was still in contact with the eldest stepson, he would be furious that I was doing anything at all with his stepmom. Good thing I'm not.
I'm walking on Monday.