Hi, Monday. Eh, Monday. Almost-but-not-quite-raining, Monday.

I'm not sure why I'm complaining about the Mondayness because I get a four-day weekend this week. That rules. Normally this space is where I'd discuss what I did last weekend, but it's not terribly exciting: Friday: work, grocery store, video store, sushi dinner, watched "Elf" (Smiling is my favorite!)

Saturday: spinning class, weight-lifting class, lunch, hung out with Kate, made pasta for dinner, watched "The Day After Tomorrow", which can be summed up in this exchange, which I'm pretty sure actually happened:

Director: I'm not sure about this scene. There's the imminent doom of global catastrophe, the immediate danger of freezing to death and the more immediate need for Penicillin. It needs something more...
Dolly Grip: Uh...how about wolves?
Director: brilliant!
Dolly Grip: hahahaa.

Sunday: Mmm...breakfast, mountain bike ride (ow), bead-shopping with Kate, trip to Target, nap, pizza for dinner, the Simpsons, the end.

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So, you know about Roomba, right? (If you don't, really, please watch more television and catch up because I don't have time to be explaining everything little thing to you.) Anyway, I'm obsessed with Roomba and have wanted one for ages, mostly to see if it freaks out the cats, because anything that freaks out the cats is okay by me.

My friend Nina's boyfriend is Roomba-crazy and lent me one for the weekend to try it out. I was excited - a robot vacuum! Doing all the work for me! And freaking out the cats! Glorious fun. I got it home, plunked it down and started it up. Now, Roomba is, first and formost, damn cute. It toodles around busily picking up dust and occasionally makes for a cat in a straight line, only to veer off at the last minute. Roomba has a sense of humor. The cats? Do not.

While I wouldn't say they were scared of Roomba, they were certainly Concerned. There was a conference:

CATCON: THE GREY ROUND SUCKING THING IS MOVING AND MAKING NOISE.

Zephyr: I'm concerned by the New Thing's state of movement. It isn't alive, but it moves.
Fuzz: I'm totally watching it. WHY IS IT GOING TOWARDS THE FOOD OH MY GOD.
Roomba: tootle tootle tootle
Stella: Hey! What? Waaat is it! It looked at me! It's COMING THIS WAY!
Zephyr: can we focus, please? It's going under the couch.
Rooomba: tootle tootle tootle ...bump...tootle...found a Chapstick...bump...tootle tootle
Fuzz: I'm hungry. That thing might eat the kibble. You keep staring, I'll protect the kibs.
Stella: I AM SO STRESSED OUT.
Zephyr: I'm going to try to lure it out and then we can all attack at once. Who's with me?
Fuzz: Monch Monch Monch.
Stella: Snorzzzz
Roomba: tootle tootle tootle
Zephyr: Fuck you all.

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Why am I so itchy? I apparently put on a hair-shirt this morning instead of the 100% cotton Gap shirt with carefully removed tags. I even use dye and scent free detergent! I've spent the whole day trying to resist tearing the damn thing off my body. Every now and then I'll be shopping for clothing and try on something that seems to be soft but the I pull it over my head and the twitching starts immediately. I recently almost tried on a deceptively soft sweater but when I checked the tag it went something like this: 45% acrylic, 37% polyester, 15% wool, 3% spandex. 15% wool? Why even bother? Couldn't they have just bumped up the acrylic and left it mercifully wool-free? The Gap is such an asshole, I swear.

I suspect I'm a delicate flower because most other people seem to luxuriate in wearing things like wool/angora/mohair blend turtlenecks with an underlining of yak hair. Hell, Kenny once wore a shirt for an entire DAY with the plastic price tag thingy still attached. How did he not feel that? I can't even leave the labels in my clothes - I have a special X-Acto knife just for cutting out the horrible itchiness. I think my sister does too. We itch as one, with our sensitive Irish skin.

A friend of a friend of mine works with autistic kids and said there's one kid who, when he gets over-stimulated, will take off all his clothes to bring things down a notch. I totally get that.

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So you know how I wrote a while back about all the contests I enter? I've actually won a few things! All of it crap, pretty much, but hey, free stuff. I recently entered a bunch of Elle magazine contests for really luxe clothes and makeup but ended up winning the one for the stinky Givenchy perfume that I probably can't wear because most perfume gives me a headache. I'm not even sure why I entered that one to begin with. They sent me an affidavit that I had to get notarized and send back. That's a lot of work for some perfume, but hello, eBay!

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You're still here? That's it, man. That's all I got. Now, go say something witty in my comments section, since you got so much free time.

8 chatty monkeys