18 June 2002 - 11:02 a.m.

Ugh, I slept late. My body was clearly avoiding feeling the cramps that have my uterus in knots.

I know, I know, I shouldn't announce my period in this diary every month like you were all waiting on pins and needles for it. But if I didn't, you'd all wonder why my entries were so woeful, no?

Hatbox is throwing up a lot, which makes me both sad and nervous that she will have to see the vet, since it's really hard for me to get her there. And reading about possible causes for ailments only mkaes me feel like a bad cat mom. Yes, I have peeling plaster that is probably covered in lethal doses of lead paint. Yes, she has access to my cleaning products. No, I haven't scopped her litter since Saturday. No, I don't have any children, and have never child-proofed, and by extension, pet-proffed, my apartment. Oy.

In better kitty news, my parents are getting a new one! They're thinking of getting a male kitten, (whom I can only assume will be called Randy) to keep their big seventeen-pounder, Ralphie (as in "You'll shoot your eye out, Ralphie") company. Yay!

What else? I guess some time this weekend, I will be tackling the bridal registry at Target with Jess and chauffeur Gus, because we have a bridal shower to go to on Saturday. Ooh baby, ooh baby. For someone who hearts most aspects of wedding planning, I just can't get into the whole shower thing. Well, maybe I can. The way I see it, there are two kinds of showers: the kind that involves making pretend dresses out of toilet paper and the kind that does not. Were this shower the latter, I'd be far more excited about it.

People just act so weird around weddings. Like, why, at a certain point in our lives is there all kinds of pressure to be a grown-up, get a job, and get married, if getting married is only going to entail stupid crap like dressing your friends up in TP and smashing cake in the face of someone who spent a small fortune on her hair, dress, and makeup? Yesterday on Wedding Story, I saw bits of cake and icing fall down the bride's cleavage after the whole smashing incident. If that were me, I would definitely make that area off limits during the wedding night. All's fair in love in war, and I would categorize smearing icing in a person's face as war.

Why is TP-ing a house immature, but TP-ing a person an accepted ritual? Why is a food fight disgusting, but cake-smashing not? It's practically the same thing.

Sorry to get all Emily Post on you guys, I just think there are better ways to have fun at showers. Sigh.

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