Cats and Boobs

Mom has taken to waiting until Andrew is out and then coming in to talk to me. Well, she says she wants to talk to the cats, and before I know it the cats are being told how my brother is screwing up now, or getting a litany of things my father has done lately. At least she tells them they're cute. Anyway, now, apparently, my brother feels that by buying him a house Mom and Dad pushed him out. Bentley's answer was to roll on his back and try to look cuter. Puck just glared at her for interrupting his nap. Puck is officially a teenager, I guess. He has the glare down pat. He could out glare a whole lunchroom of seventh graders. I'm starting to realize that it's a good thing I'm married, otherwise I'd surely be edging into crazy catlady territory.
In other news, I've decided to the Boobie-Thon this year. I forget why I didn't last year, but I'm doing it now! Yay boobs! And double yay for keeping boobs cancer free! Stupid cancer. My maternal grandmother survived her breast cancer (but not her diabetes), but I lost a paternal aunt to it. Breast cancer is a topic near and dear to my own boobs. I'm debating trying to put together a donation thing, like if I hit a certain ammount I'll shave my head. Or maybe I'll put two up, donate for me to keep my hair or donate to see me shave it, and then whichever ammount is higher will be the winning option. I think my mom will be donating to see me shave it, though she might throw a couple of bucks at not in the end. We'll see. My biggest concern about shaving my head is how much I know I will look like my brother. Everything else I can deal with. Well, possibly not the big red circle birthmark I have on the back of my head, which my brother also has, because the last thing a bald girl needs is a target.

School Supplies, yay!

Okay so the lowdown... I applied to grad school and the program of my choice. I got into the program, the school? Not so much. But I figured this would happen, so no biggie, I just went through the appeals process. There was, however, much freaking out, as school starts on Monday. So this morning I called the dean's office, and the secretary said the letter had been signed and mailed out, and she was pretty sure I had been approved. Woo! So I called the grad studies office, and they confirmed this, so I basically spent today running around trying to get my stuff together and get registered. And now I am. Unfortunately, even though I'm not the only one who wants to do it, and even though the professor says it's okay and he'll do the extra work to make us do the extra work, I'm not going to be able to use the undergrad (though 4000 lvl) scriptwriting class for my grad work. Boo. So I had to find another class. Currently I'm looking at a fiction writing workshop, Form and Theory in Creative Non-Fiction, and a Gender and Literature course that is specifically looking at the Gothic novel. (Specifically the feminine aesthetic of terror as compared to the masculine aesthetic of horror. Heh.) I'm eligible for an assistantship, but considering the fact that I am on probation, I decided not to apply. I want to really get my grad school bearings before I take that on. So, you know... next year.
In other news... not much has happened. My mom's cat, Mac, passed away. I felt so bad. He had an infection and just couldn't shake it off. At least we tried everything we could. So now my two truly are the spoiled brats of the house. And spoiled they really are. Bentley is still trying to figure out how doors work. The other night he was running around, and hopped up on the bed and burrowed under the covers until he was curled up by my feet. Perfect hiding place! And then he sneezed, and, realizing his cover had been blown, took off running again. Puck has been pretty lovey, lately. He still wants to go outside, but that just ain't going to happen.
For now I am off to make potato salad and cut up veggies for the veggie plate for tomorrow. We're having a big back to school party for my cousins' kids. I expect to end the day well fed, slightly sunburned, and totally wiped out from having fun. After all, that is why I moved back home.