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2004-02-22 @ 8:56 p.m.
two crazy kitties under one roof

What's more frightening than Governor Schwarzenegger? How about President Schwarzenegger? Guess old wise Ahnold has been pontificating on the idea that people from places other than the U. S. of A., like say Austria, should have a shot at the Presidency. Gays, of course, shouldn't get married, according to Ahnold. Oh no. But I wonder if gays can run for President? And if so, I wonder what category does Liza's ex David Gest fall under?

And isn't that Pat Robertson a kidder? George W. Bush will win by a landslide next November. God told him. Hee, hee. Hey Pat, can you ask God what the winning lottery number are for next week? I could really use a new car.

See that'll teach me to watch 60 Minutes right before I write my diaryland entry. I didn't even know all this important shit before I watched TV tonight.

Nope. My whole existence centered around the fact that my cat needed psychiatric help. Yup. Poor kitty. Like mommy, like daughter.

I've really noticed that pets are alot like their owners. They truly are. Married Guy's dog is just like him. Kinda doofy with a big lovable personality. My mom's cat gets right up in your face, meows incessantly, and demands constant attention like "Hey, I'm the center of the universe."

My cat, well, she's an odd one. She's a one person cat. Shy. Quiet. Given to flipping off the bed backwards if anything is slightly awry. She jumps back in fear alot. And I enjoy throwing small objects at her when I see her approaching something fearfully. (yeah, I'm mean that way - evil cat mommy). But hey, its so much fun, and I don't have cable!

Like the other day I was laying on the couch, and I could see her creeping towards some unknown monster under the kitchen in (whisper) there was nothing under there snerkwitz. So she's creeping and I decided to take an earring off the coffee table and throw it. Well, I somehow managed to score a direct hit and she must have jumped about 4 feet in the air. It was hilarious!

But now she is afraid to walk on the floor. She truly is. She went through this last summer too. But last summer we had a flea invasion. And there was a reason for it. Now? I'm not sure what is wrong.

She has been sleeping on the very thin ledge of my piano for about 6 days now. Its only about 4 inches wide, but she does everything there. Sleeps. Washes. Stares into space. And everytime I try to remove her, to say, place her on my bed or on the couch, she hysterically tears across the floor, slides across the piano bench, jumps up onto the piano keys, making quite a racket, and then frantically clings to her little 4 inch ledge. I just don't know what to do.

She has done this out at certain locations for days at a time. Four days on my scanner. Five days on the back of the couch. Two days on my bed. And she will not move from those locations for days at a time. Its the weirdest thing.

But leave it to me, to have a psychologically damaged cat. Maybe I can call Pat Robertson to predict where she'll end up next.

I mean now that we've got the George Bush thing out of the way and all...

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty