16 October, 2001 - 10:51 a.m.

Here is a cute story for you.

Well, I think it's cute. Maybe if you're a squeamish neat freak, you'll not agree.

My cat, the infinitely adorable Hatbox McSneezy, has been unusually sweet and affectionate lately - bonus! But last night, while I was alternately chatting on AIM and making an engagement/housewarming Altoid tin for my friends Max and Robyn, I carelessly upset a whole late of finished magnets, which meant thst I had to reach under the fridge in search of the renegades.

Thankfully, I have an especially long, phallic feather duster that can take care of the dreaded underbelly of the fridge for me. I took that out of the closet, rescued my magnets, and resumed chatting/varnishing.

The next thing I know, Hatbox is launching a full-frontal assault on Mr. Featherduster - one of those famous cattacks in which she wrestles it with her front paws, kicks it with her back paws, and tries to chew its feathery little head off. I thought this was cute.

"Hatbox is making out with the feather duster!" I typed to Matt, who also thought it was cute. So I took a couple of pictures. She was so wrapped up in feathery goodness that she didn't even mind.

And then I am pretty sure that I hung the feather duster up. For one thing, I didn't want kitty shredding it, because it's a good feather duster, and not a kind that's easy to find. For another thing, I didn't want her wrestling with it so much that it inadvertantly started to clean the travesty of housekeeping that is my little apartment.

Here's where it gets weird. I then got into bed, and Hatbox, being so cute as of late, did something she hasn't in quite a while - crawled under the covers with me. I petted her for a while, then told her I was going to sleep. So she emerged and curled up next to me, where she stayed all night.

At least, I thought she had stayed there all night. But when I woke up this morning, I found her in a tight ball between me and the feather duster.

I almost got really mad at her for having maybe gotten the thing off the nail where it hangs in my closet, and at the very least for having dragged the dusty thing into bed.

But then I decided that her love for the feather duster was really cute.

I guess I'm just a big ol' softie.

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: