the mouse diet

yes, i am trying this new way of (not) eating. i call it the "mouse diet" and it consists of avoiding your kitchen due to THE GRAY MICE THAT DWELL THERE!!! AND POOP ON YOUR STOVE!! AND CRAWL AROUND ON YOUR STUFF!!! AND CREEP YOU OUT WHEN YOUR HUSBAND IS AWAY!!

i just saw him. he looks like this:


but the more i creep myself out about him, he looks like this in my head:


in other news, le dub played with my brightest diamond last night here in nyc! it was, of course, great to see the dub, whom i have missed terribly. the opener, tim fite, deserves special mention, as he is, like, my new hero. i love him.



unfortunately, pms-nowlze was on the scene. i would say that she made her appearance shortly after my job du jour (which was reshooting a portion of leah siegel's video for her amazing song "a day at the river"-- see previous post).

currently, menstrual nowlze has come to stay for the better portion of this week. to steal a line from my dear ehrrin keenan, this evening my uterus has been shouting, "DO NOT DEFY ME!", and sadly, it yearns for food which my wuss self is unable to access from my kitchen. perhaps i can muster up the courage to venture in for some mango sorbet, so long as the woob continues to stand guard. he is on night watch, and lemme tell you, a finer feline cannot be found. my cat rules. he's not just a pretty face; few know that the woobens is a born mouser.

and for all my talk of the biscuit, isn't it sad that the woob only gets the occasional mention when i am in freak out mode and depending on his ninja-like skill to help me out of a bind? i feel guilty. i am a bad, bad kitty mama. i love you, woob. my first son. the wind beneath my wings.