Honeymoon's Over

last week I tried to clip Frances' claws, and she flat out would not let me. Flailed and ran away.

so the other night when I tried again, and she did not fight as hard, I thought I was making progress. I got one claw done, and she looked at me for about 20 seconds meowing in a not very angry way.... though apparently, I didn't react the way she wanted, so she grabbed my hand and bit my wrist.

of course when I went to bed she pretended everything was OK, and tried to climb up on my chest and hang out.
Nope, Cat goes on the Floor tonight.

oh yeah.

I bought a house.

(well, for the sake of accuracy, I made an offer which was accepted, it will be another 30 days of paperwork and fees before I can truthfully use the term 'bought')

a post with the same name as a Meridith Monk album.

so, hmmmmm.... it's been a busy and hectic and very rewarding couple of days.

Tuesday: 7:20AM flight to LAX, it was supposed to be a 7:10 flight to Burbank, but I missed it (not really, but Alaska has a new rule where if you're not checked into their computer by 30 min prior to the flight, youre SOL).

Get to LAX, and thanks to the facile skills of The Sgt. I'm able to step into my rental car. I then drive to Van Nuys to the shop of an automated lighting company that I've worked closely with for sseveral years now, but they've been acting all weird and refusing to put some of my lights on a truck to be shipped back to me, so I have to make an appearance to sort it all out. A little elbow grease and a polite manner has the situation resolved by 2PM.

Then, it's a phone call to another lighting company to chide them about being 5 months past due on paying me for a gig I did for them last summer.

I THEN drive to Cerritos (don't bother) to ANOTHER lighting company that I work with, and get them to realize that their shoddy paperwork is a big mistake. Skateboarding ensues.

Then it's off to Pasadena to meet with a good friend to let him know that we want to hire him on as Musical Director of Bucket of Blood: The Beatnik Musical He agrees. Tequila ensues.

Wed. Morning. I meet up with my parents and have lunch and a healthy, deep though pleasant, conversation with my dad.

While waiting for my dad to get ready to head out, I call the huge behemoth of all automated lighting companies to scold them for not returning my phone calls as they owe me on a rental that has gone way out of control, and if they pay it, I could easily buy BenLau 5 Hondos. They answer my call and we come to an agreement on the matter.

Then I head off to the airport, where I get on the plane and sit in the wrong seat, but it's a sparsly populated flight, so I don't bother correcting my error.

orwell was right.

so my 73 year old father has a choice coming up (though it's likely to be 5 or 7 years before he'll have to make it) which is that he can choose to replace his leaking heart valve (the same genetic flaw that killed my grandfater WHEN HE WAS 89, and which I am likely to have as well) with a metal valve OR a heart valve taken from a pig or cow.

Both of them invlove mandatory drug regimens which will make his quality of life go way down.

Knowing my dad, he's likely to not bother with the surgery and just continue to live his live and drive his oil leaking 20 year old car until he drops over one day.
more power to him. I just hope he's not at the wheel of said car at the time.