The cat is being a huge pest. It happens some mornings, she just stands in front of my mother’s bedroom door and meows pathetically. If that doesn’t work…scratching. And then I chase her with a water bottle. You’d think she’d put the two together, but you’d be wrong.

I had one of my fucked up dreams last night. I only really remember the end, which involved my room at the York house, and this weird bug-frog-mouse hybrid thing, and my mom coming in to ask me if I knew anyone with a Lamborghini, because one had just pulled into the driveway — which I knew instantly that it was the best friend’s new car, and that the car in question would be old and white and beat-up and lacking the niceties a car should have, like AC and a radio and possibly heat. I also very much did not want to tell her that it was the bestest’s car, but luckily there was the bug-frog-mouse thing which was black and oily-looking and had a very long, snakelike, prehensile tongue, and was really freaking me the hell out. Mom just tsked at me and grabbed a tissue and picked it up — and which point its TONGUE slithered out from under the tissue and WRAPPED AROUND HER WRIST — and then handed me a pen and told me to stab it. Nevermind that I have no natural aiming skills, and the tissue was entirely blocking my view of both it and her hand so I had no idea of where to stab anyway, just here’s a pen, I’ll hold it, you kill it. Bleayurgh.

I was just as glad to wake up, really.

Oh! The sister set a wedding date – May 19, 1pm. Further details to come when they send out the invitations. Part of me wants to drag someone along to share in my gathering-induced misery, but odds are the bestest won’t be able to get off, and I don’t think I know anybody in Connecticut. One the upside? Last family wedding I will ever have to do to. Booyah!