From what the other half of this blog tells/told me some months ago, we're maybe back, when we feel like it that is, so here's a quickie on my behalf:
I just rang in my thirty-FIRST birthday by having no job and a newly adopted kitten, which I guess was some kind of bullshit twofer deal, since I also adopted his ringworm. For the amount of money spent on vet visits this past month, I could have gotten a legit designer kitten like the ones I see at the flea market by my parent's house in Florida. Google "bengal kitten" right now, do it.
There was a sweet 3 month period where I was a grownup and had mucho dinero in el banco and health insurance that lasted just long enough for me to go get a checkup and have my doctor confirm my theory that I am in fact, going to live forever. Life was good! Now I pretty much dedicate my days to taking pictures of my cats, making up awesome 90's outfits and going to the gym so my boyfriend/sugar daddy keeps supporting me until the state of New York decides to start paying me unemployment, at which point I will retire to the couch and Doritos and Battlestar Galactica (into that too now).
Maybe I'm 31, maybe I have that parasite that makes you love cats and need all the cats ever and maybe I'm "cat people" now, who cares. Picture below of a recent convo betwixt myself and Shannie pretty much sums it up.