Sleepytime Saturday

My fan-base has spoken, and I must obey. You begged for it, you wanted it, and now you're gonna get it.

KITTEN PICS!!!!! WOOOOOOOT!!!

I managed to capture all of these on Saturday afternoon, and I have to tell you...it wasn't a challenge at all. You see, when these cats sleep, they SLEEP. I think I've mentioned this before. It all started when I went to Best Buy on Saturday afternoon. When I got home at about 1:00 PM, I found my lovely little Venus asleep on the couch.


So this is how it went for a couple of hours. Me on one end of the couch, and Venus on the other. But for some reason, I felt that something was missing. Where was my other little darling? Apparently, Minerva thought she would taker her nap behind the couch.


At some point, however, she realized what Venus must have known from the beginning. The couch is WAY more comfortable than the floor. "You better move it on over sistah, I'm comin' up!"


And so it began. For the next 12 hours, that's right TWELVE HOURS, these little kittens slept. They contorted themselves into some of the cutest and odded configurations that I have ever seen. And so here they are:

The Pea Pod


The Furry Pretzel


The Butt Pillow


The Reverse Butt Pillow


The...I don't even know what to call this...


And so it went. Michelle and I finally went to bed. The two kittens had not moved more than a foot all afternoon, and all evening. And when I woke up the next morning and came downstairs, where did I find them? You guessed it. That must be one seriously comfortable couch. :)

More introspection...

Okay, I don't have more kitten pictures yet. I'm sorry. I know that makes me a bad person. I've just busy with the actual kittens to have time to take more photos. They're coming along well, though. Last night they both curled up on the bed with us and went to sleep. And I mean SLEEP. Cupid will wake up with the slightest touch or movement on the bed, but when these little critters went to dreamland, they stayed there, even with us shifting and occasionally petting them.

Ah the sleep of the innocent and unworried...

But enough on cats for now. Now is time for the introspection.

If you remember a couple of posts ago, I talked about my problems working under pressure and making decisions quickly. I pointed out that I don't do well when too many things are coming at me all at once. I know this is pretty much the rule with me, and to prove it, here is the exception to the rule: None of this applies at all in one situation; when I'm on stage, figuratively or literally.

Most of you know by know that I am a total ham. I love the limelight. I absolutely adore being the center of attention. And I will get up in front of a crowd at the drop of the hat. It's truly one of the places where I am the most comfortable. It's odd, because alot of people would rather die that have to speak in front of an audience. They certainly would never consider getting up in front of a group of people without meticulously prepared notes. But me? I love it.

For me, it's a total adrenaline rush. It's like my form of skydiving or bungie-jumping or going on a roller coaster. To stand up there and give a speech, to recite a poem or sing a song, or deliver a great line that gets a huge life, to me it's like a shot of heroin.

I still remember the first time I got up in front of a crowd. It was a church on a "singing" night. You see, I grew up in the Church of Christ, where all the singing is acappella. It's about the only thing I liked about it. Once a month, on a Sunday night, my congregation would devote an entire night to singing with the men of the congregation taking turns leading songs. I decided that I wanted to lead one, too. But I was a little nervous. I think I must have been about six or seven at the time. So, my grandfather took my hand and we walked up to the front. I stood on the dias and he stood on the floor, and I belted out the words to my favorite song, "The Lily of the Valley."

And that was it, I was hooked. I've loved being in front of an audience, any audience, ever since. I think it's one of the reasons my family always thought I was destined for the pulpit. When I was in high school, I used to stand in for my father when he had to work on Sunday's. I preached several sermons at the little church where he preached, as well as at the larger church where I had grown up. I was a hit, too. Everyone there thought I was going to be a great Gospel preacher one day. I wonder what they would think now...

And so that's a little bit more about me. I'm sure that anyone who knows me knows that deep down, I'm a performer. I still remember all my greatest performances: Bob Cratchet when I was in the 4th grade; the lead role in a comedy my high school did for One Act Play when I was a senior (I won best actor at the district level for that one); the open mike night I played in College Station, and the one I played here in Austin (actually, the only two I've ever played, but maybe there'll be another one someday); my Valedictorial address when I graduated high school (I quoted Churchill, JFK, and Maya Angelou, it was very ambitous); my final presentation as an Undergraduate Research Fellow my senior year at A&M (I got the Best Thesis award for that one and graduated with Honors); the toast I gave at my wedding, when I presented my brother and my cousins with tiny engraved puzzle pieces and made everybody cry (they cried in a good way; it was symbolism...I'll explain it some other time).

So as you can see, I was destined for greatness. Ah, yes, I've definately fulfilled my potential. I mean, I'm a faceless corporate drone, a cog in the enormous mill of industry. But hey, the CEO's of the company know my on sight because of my Halloween antics, so I guess I'm not a total failure.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry now. But I hope that if you decided to read this whole manifesto, you know a little more about me now.

Perhaps I even know a little more about myself.

The Storyteller's Folly

What have I DONE?!?!?

I was possessed, I swear! I don't know what came over me. It's just something about their eyes. They peer into your face and it's like they can reach right into your soul and sink their little claws in, and they just won't let you go.

We were only supposed to look. Just see if there were any of them that we might want to take home with us. Just one. A little one. It wouldn't be much trouble, really. A little extra cleanup maybe. Nothing much. And we might not even bring one home. Just look, that's all.

And then I picked one up. And it burrowed into the crook of my arm, and started doing that thing. Ya know, making that noise. That one that goes in your ear and travels all the way down into the pit of your being and just makes you go all goofy. And then I picked up another one.

It wasn't supposed to go this way. We were just going to look. But they were sisters, and you can't separate sisters. It would be too traumatic. The transistion is easier, you see, if you keep them together. And three wouldn't really be much more trouble than two. I mean, you're going to be cleaning up anyway, right?

Yeah, I know. There's one born every minute, and I'm it. I'm the sucker. I'm the softy. In the end, it was actually my idea to bring them both home. I couldn't help it. I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment.

If you haven't figured it out yet, here they are. The newest members of our little household: Venus (black and white) and Minerva (solid black).

God help us all...