I hate being a responsible adult!

One of the women at work has found a Cat and she's trying to give it away. So this morning, after we'd been stitching for a bit, she casually says to me "Nicki, I think you need a cat."

I don't disagree with her right away, but give this suggestion due consideration. Many reasons why I can't adopt a Cat flow through my brain: I am a Dog Person. I can barely afford to feed myself. My house is titchy and I don't think I'm allowed pets. If something were to happen to the Cat, God forbid, I don't think I could afford the vet bills. Things like this. But I don't want to hurt my coworker's feelings--and I do want the Cat, because I need a small furry. So I say, weakly, "Well, if I ever got a cat, I'd have to name it Benedict Arnold, because I'm a dog person. So it'd kinda be like...treason...er...heh." She blinked at me once or twice and then said "Well, I call him Waller, because that was the street he was on, but you can rename him if you want. He's already neutered."

Names are very important. Also, spaying your pets.

I don't think I'm going to adopt this cat, mostly because I'm still hoping to move in July and my future roommate has told me No Cats because her BF 4-EVR is incredibly allergic, and I understand the importance of respecting friends' needs. But I would really like a small furry to take care of, I just need to be patient I guess, until I move and then I can get A Dog.

But now I'm wondering if this Cat has come to me--Cats, after all, aren't adopted, they find you, and I'm wondering if this Cat is waiting for me to recognise that he is My Cat. If I'm being told that, after years of pining for a Dog, I should take this Cat. I must meditate on it some more, but I would feel really bad if I said I would not adopt the Cat and it was actually My cat.

"I thought we were going to go get those Sharks!"

"Not without three years jazz/tap we're not!"

Things You Never Want to Hear in a Theatre:

1. "We're out of gaff tape."
2. "He's gay."
3. "Macbeth."
4. "Fire!!"
5. "Nicki, can you hand us the first-aid kit?"

Unfortunately, I've been privy to all of these, but it's only the last one that has that special power to induce heart attacks and enable me to leap out of tech booths in a single bound. One of our actors smashed up his fingers on Saturday, as he slipped on the stage carrying a barrel. Keep in mind the whole show is blocked with our actors onstage the entire time, so I didn't hear about it until an hour later when he finally came offstage. I tell you this because Bil has used his day off (and, apparently, the slight psychosis caused by too much painkiller) to make this funny little video called "Pinot Grigio" which is posted on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wM6PBY2gzpU Check it out.

Meanwhile, I've been cleaning the house. I don't mind cleaning the house, except that what am I cleaning? Oh, cat hair and kitty litter. I don't hate cats. I am anti-cat. When people get teary eyed and talk about having cat shelters and how inhumane declawing is I just blink subtly and think to myself "these beasts WANT to be feral. Why should I deny them their deepest, darkest desires?" The best example of cat ownership I have seen was my friend Sarah's family, in Paris. Every night before they would go to bed they would kick all six cats outside. Vive French kitties.

And now I've got to go take a shower so I can go to work. I should have gotten up and sent out more resumes today, but I stayed up late last night reading a book called "Sex Wars" which is about real people after the Civil War, when the women's movement was first getting going, and the morality and temperance movements were gaining steam. I find it very interesting to see how people's genders inform their politics and about how ideas have changed (or not) over the years. The author makes a valid point when she talks about Susan B. Anthony being the only one who can legally "own" the feminist press, because all the other women, who are married, are unable to sign contracts or have their own bank accounts. It suddenly makes me very grateful to live in a world where I can make 89 cents to every man's dollar. Also where I can vote for the laws that govern my life. I highly recommend this book to anyone who's interested in the women's movement, and in history in general. It is a good counterpoint to the feminist movement of the 60s and 70s: like the civil rights movement, the roots of the problem go back a long way, and we're not there yet.

Right. Off to support myself, man-free. Woo.

Lesson learned...

What have we learned today, kids? If you want temp work, you must call your agency often and be as available as possible. It be Monday morning (11:59: still technically morning) and I'm not at work--not that I haven't been busy, I've sent out a bunch of resumes for potential jobs, and I'm about to trot off to the library to return some books, but I was panicking a little bit about money. Then I called my agency to "let them know!" that I was "available!" this week, even though I called them on Friday as well. Lo and behold, there was work Wednesday through Friday, and about five minutes later I got a call back--"Can you come in for training tomorrow afternoon?" Certainly! So, with employment assured (at least for this week), I can sit back, relax and...continue applying for jobs. Also writing, which is something I like to do in my "spare" time.

So I'm home alone--well, the cats are here. Stupid cats. I feel like I'm ten years old again --"Shelby is looking at me!!!" I find it so annoying that the cats just stare at me. Why? Why? Why? I'm not that interesting, even if I do need a haircut (badly), and if they want attention, why can't they just be dogs? Honestly. I've decided to move at the beginning of September (so if anyone in Chicago needs a roommate...) and I'm going to be getting a dog. Enough of this nonsense. Didn't I say when I moved back to the States I was getting a dog? Well, then it's high time to become a dog person again! Hopefully by September I'll get this money thing figured out.

Is it to much to ask to be paid for what I'm good at? Arg.

Meanwhile, I've been so busy that something Very Important! has completely flown under my radar. Andy Claoude was the first person to mention that none other than the gorgeous Michael Cerveris (angelic chorus!) has been nominated for yet another Tony Award. He is in a show called "LoveMusik" where he plays Kurt Weill.

!!!

How did I not know about this? I'm getting senile in my old age! A) Michael Cerveris is doing another show, B) he's playing KURT WEILL!!! and C) he's nominated for a Tony award! Now, I lost my faith in the Tony awards when "Spamalot" won best musical, but I'm thrilled that Michael Cerveris is getting more attention because he is so talented he can't get enough, quite frankly. I would love to give him ALL my attention, if you get my drift, but I'd settle for walking his dog. So good! I was doing fine without a TV up until now, but I might have to steal one for the Tony's...maybe buy a nice flatscreen and return it the next day. Hmmm...

Check out the website: there's video! http://www.mtc-nyc.org/current%2Dseason/lovemusik/

three cats is three cats too many

So there's another cat in the house now. Her name is Maisie, although I've nicknamed her "Gollum" since she has a hairball problem. And she's not so much a cat as a cat puddle. My roommate thinks she was abandonded because she is extremely overweight. When she lays down, her front legs completely disappear. Cat puddle. She actually got into my room this morning, causing me to throw her out in a panic because I was on my way to a job interview and wearing black trousers. I accidentally threw her right in front of one of the other cats, so then they had a hissing match--only Maisie wasn't all the way out of my room, so I had to prod her out with my boot, prompting her to take a swipe at me. I felt bad, so when I came home I apologised by scratching her butt. So now we're friends, except I have a weird rash on my hand.

Oh, God. I'm becoming one of those people who tell CAT STORIES. Somebody, please, buy me a dog.

The whole reason I was up and running around in a panic this morning is because I had an appointment at a temp agency downtown. I think I really, REALLY impressed the agent, because she asked if I'd like to work a couple days next week--without having to take any of their computer aptitude tests or a typing assessment--90 words per minute and climbing! woot! Next week I'll be working for a company that organises events for non-profits. MUCH better than selling it all for a multinational corporation. And I got a response to one of my emails yesterday about stage managing a musical this summer--luckily it's a remounting of a show they've already done, so most of the hard part's done. Right? Right.

Then, on my way back home, I stopped at the Cultural Center to get some brochures about things to do in Chicago. Thought briefly about staying for the lecture "What is Plato's Relationship to the Divine?" Figured that was already covered in "Hedwig." Grabbed some leaflets about boat trips on the river and a magazine about the Lincoln Library. There is a free tour of Chicago tomorrow at 1:15, so I think I might go back and have a walking tour. Although I think I might have to break down and buy some gloves. Stupid cold weather.

So life is good. Not bad for only being here five days.