We're delerious.

Scott's found a whole new way to get on my nerves.

Scene: Scott's sitting on the couch eating soup. As there's no TV or music, or really anything in our living room, its quiet. I'm standing right in front of him.

Me: I think Doug is feeling more self-worth since we've been including him in more meetings.

Scott: [looking me square in the eye, nods importantly] Hm, feeling left out?

That's it. Its totally, completely maddening; I never realize its the reverse-reaction game until I'm halfway through repeating myself. It's a good one.

A recent, warm day we ticked one of the last items off our freakin' house staging list. Windows. We left the upstairs windows open, which meant that our fat, feisty kitty escaped. Which was bad, since the day before she's been massively sedated after biting a vet. Hard. She was still loaded, sleepy and zig-zaggy.

Hours later, we heard her wailing from a crawlspace under our deck and came to the rescue.

We've been through this drill before, so Scott knew what to do. He lifted the 15 pound mass of fur over the railing to me, her body rigid with fear. Oh no, I noticed, her feet and snowy chest were covered in tar.

I fetched some rags and supplies and returned to find her chewing tar. No, honestly. She had her feet in her mouth and she was tearing hunks of her tar-covered fur out. I looked at her furry, white mouth-- completely black-- she had tar-hunks sticking out of her mouth like jet black, oily, thick, tobacco. No doubt she was eating it.

Not good. I went to pick her up and she attacked. She was out of her mind. No trip to the vet and no way in hell she was letting me touch her tar. I called the emergency vet-- they told me to look out for her being drowsy. I googled CAT EAT TAR and the results were, unsurprisingly, terrifying. Poison! Toxic! Can't even be on their skin!

I called various groomers in the city who all had different remedies. I became hysterical, she was indeed very drowsy, even considering the important eat-tar project. Was it cuz she was still drunk or the poison?

The cat continued to eat tar for the entire day. The next morning, she was fine. But since then she is surprisingly a more mellow pet; and seems a whole lot more content. Maybe the drugs + the tar = kitty LSD. She's seen the 5th dimension now and is at peace. Interesting.