I'd be the first to admit I'm probably a mole-ish creature at heart. My first conversation of the day from this morning, for instance, underscored fact that I spent countless hours from childhood-thru-latent-adulthood hidden among the bookshelves at the library. For a Person O Color, I was kind of a pasty kid.
DEE: Rise and shine, dear! Time to drop you off to work!
ME: Oh wah noooo! I've been up since practically pre-dawn. I got up to go to the bathroom and afterwards I could hear the heater making funny noises. Then the birds had to start in with their chirping. Tweet tweet tweet tweet...There was a whole chorus outside, including a particularly high-pitched soprano. Tweeet tweet TWEET!
DEE: Say what?
ME: I got my eye shade and ear plugs, but it still took FOR-EV-ER to fall back to sleep.
DEE: Why the eye mask?
ME (rolling eyes): Uh, because the glare of the morning sun broke in through the windows...
DEE *: Sounds like spring is in the air!*
*If I recollect correctly, Dee actually said "Will you stop being a crab-ass".
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Speaking of March-April madness, we saw Disney's new Alice in Wonderland on the big screen this weekend. Maybe Tim Burton's storyline didn't to stick too closely with the book or previous film, but we both thought the animation stole the show. Alice's animal crew were totally cutified! On the other hand, we were somewhat taken aback by the movie's 3-D violence (a la IMAX). Fight scenes with eyeballs and sewing needles = eeewww. Several days later...
DEE: Emergency Room, Charge Nurse.
ME: Hello, how are you? How's work?
DEE: We're on Psych Divert. What's up?
ME: You're right! The fighting dormouse was a girl.
DEE: How do you know?
ME: I read it on the internet.
DEE: Basically, you'll take the word of some movie reviewer over what I was telling you before.
ME: Or...hooray for investigative journalism resolving our difference of opinion!
DEE: G'bye.
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Seriously though; while other peeps may have spent their Easter Sunday running around after hardboiled eggs, Dee and I were putting "Lost Tabby Cat" posters in mailboxes and on telephone poles throughout Em Island.
Two weeks is a long time for cans of usually coveted whitefish with gravy (WET food for goodness' sake) to remain untouched, even for an indoor-slash-outdoor cat who's never been shy about "visiting" with mice and other woodland creatures around the cottage. I mentioned to Dee that her rascally tabby--sorry, cherished kiddo--isn't the same madcap explorer anymore at 14, 15, 16 (?) yrs old but I'm loathe to crush a stubborn hope (which has turned into nightly dreams) that Annie's alright. I would love for Dee to be right believing in that Little Annie will emerge from her rabbit hole once the rainy season dies down a bit.
