Dear Tux,

Dammit Cat! For the love of Sweet Fuzzy Jesus, please, please stop throwing up. Seriously, like, what do you need, really? Less cat food? More cat food? Different cat food? I cannot take the cat vomit any more.

This morning (7:21 am, luckily just 9 minutes before my alarm was set to go off-you know, the perfect time to get me up) when I awoke to your *hec, hec, hec* vomit convulsions ON THE BED I was so not happy. Is this really the way you like to wake up the people who feed, pet and shelter you? REALLY? 'Cause how about a meow or some purring near our faces, yeah...I hear some cats like to do it that way.

So, the bed. I can only thank God that it was on a small spot on the actual sheets-which I had to run downstairs and wash. But did you have to also spew on the bed post, bed frame, the FI-ance's bike spokes by the bed and the floor around it all? Did you? Huh!? Ok, just my opinion here, but I believe THAT was unnecessary.

You know what Tuximillion? Don't answer any previous questions, just promise me this: while we have most of our possessions in bags, boxes, baskets and crates as we try to put this house together, please, PLEASE don't throw up in, on or around them. I do not want to open a box labeled BOOKS and find my Kate Chopin covered in fur turds.

Maxiporium

I discovered something interesting about myself while engaged in the moving of my stuff this month. I sorta have a lot of maxi pads. Wait, not sorta a lot, but SO MANY THAT IF MENSTRUATION LASTED FROM CONCEPTION UNTIL DEATH NO WOMAN WOULD EVER USE THEM ALL.

I'm thinking about opening a store. Maybe I'll call it The House That Maxis Built. What about Maxi's Place? Maxiporium is a favorite, but I'm open to ideas. After all, the store would be for the greater good, you know.