On Tuesday, I am going to Seattle for five days, and it's a whole thing, and I am taking Mr. Horkheimer, my dead cat, and I will tell you all about it on Monday, because you need photos and the back story and I just don't have time to tell you today and there is no point in telling you over the weekend since about four of you read me over the weekend.
The cat is cremated, so if you were worried that there is somehow going to be some kind of grotesque dead cat picture on my blog on Monday, I would never do that to you. Horkie was the love of my life. I would never, you know, splay his poor gray fluffy dead cat body on my blog. Geez.
You know, I am thinking that I may keep just a teensy bit of his ashes and put them in some kind of locket. Clark Gable did that. Not with Mr. Horkheimer's ashes, because that would make no sense, but with Carole Lombard's. Technically not with her ashes; when she died in a plane crash they found her diamond earring, and he had a small silver box made with the earring inside, and he wore that box on a chain for the rest of this life, and he was married 109 more times and I can tell you what, if I were the next wives I would be annoyed.
I always kind of identified with Carole Lombard, because she wasn't all that pretty but she got the hot guy by being funny, and not-that-hot-women-who-get-hot-guys-by-being-funny unite! That's what I say.
Anyway the way I'm rambling on, at this point I could almost have told you the whole Seattle story but again, you need photos and that's gonna take time and have I mentioned I have work to do?
On Wednesday afternoon I got a call from a place I freelance, and they said hey, can you do this small job for us, and from the sound of it it seemed like it'd take me two hours, maybe three, and really I am kind of already pressed for time but I want to keep them using me so I said okay.
FIFTEEN HOURS LATER, FIFTEEN, I just returned that hellish job to them. So now I am totally screwed with all the other work I had.
So that is why I have to go now. But remember to come back here at 6 o'clock Eastern time this Sunday so we can start looking at the red carpet people. Just stampede right to the comments; that's where we'll all be. We will be catty. We will be shallow. And if you don't usually comment, now is your time to get over it. It's the Oscars! It's time to break out of your shell and be bitchy! So put on your swan skirt and see you then. Or, you know, tomorrow, if you are one of the four who read me on Saturday.