don't waste the pretty.

i'm back in town and i have my room back (yay!). dude that i'm subletting from left today for italy and has offered to sleep on the couch when he returns in mid-june (before he moves out for good) in an effort not to kick me out of his/my room again. that's sweet of him and he's actually kind of hot, really, and i think the hotness and the sweetness are all a result of the italianness. so is the pasta and sausage eating. did i mention the hotness? and the motorcycle? and the pretty hair? anyhow, the point is that this works out v. well for me because now i don't have to worry about being displaced again; i only have to worry about feeling guilty that he's sleeping on the couch and i'm sleeping in his bed.

i recently realized that i begin way too many sentences with, "the fucking cat..." followed by whatever horrible act the cat just committed. today: he peed on the stove again, so i tossed him out in the backyard--it was rather satisfying--where he stayed the rest of the day and, contrary to shannon's prediction, managed to survive. he's rather screamy about being outside, but whatever. cat needs to learn to deal.

also, i'm almost positive that the being ignored bit that i've complained about so much lately is totally going to be a prolonged thing and is also a quiet--though effective, i admit--way of telling me to just go away i don't ever want to talk to you again. i mean, i assume that's what the not talking to me is all about but it's hard to tell considering the blatant lack of communication on the part of the uncommunicative party. it's rather awesome, really--and by awesome i mean it inspires awe and not that it's a good thing. in addition to awe, this particular tactic is inspiring all sorts of other emotions, none of which could be considered very positive, but awe is up there on the list. i definitely deserve better treatment than this. even being told to fuck off would be preferable, since at least then i would know where i stand.