H1N1, Birthdays, Cats, etc.

It's been a long week. I swear most of us have dealt with H1N1. Bill and I are still sick. It seems where one thing feels better, something else feels worse. I've had colds before, but this is worse than that. It has to be a flu. All last week I had swollen tonsils. That turned into a just a sore throat, a cold, stomach problems, etc. Right now my sinuses are draining, but my head is killing me and I'm constantly coughing. Bill isn't doing much better.

We told Ed to take a bus to the UCLA main campus this morning, and he begged. Bill finally relented. He got sick on the way home. I wouldn't have made it. I haven't been sleeping right. When I walked in the door after dropping Ed at the Uptown campus, I sat down in Bill's chair and immediately fell asleep.

This past weekend was Becki's birthday. I tried to make a big deal out of it. I made lasagna, and I bought a cake. We had presents and the whole deal. The thing is we were all so sick, no one said much of anything. Chris was worse than all of us. He looked gray. Gloria's birthday was also Saturday, and she was suppose to join us. We had gifts for her, too. (She and Jon are back together.) She had to work late, which is no surprise. It was really kind of a sorry affair. Where we are usually boisterous and loud, we were very quiet. The only good thing is that no one brought up this weekend last year. That's when we lost Pizza. (I still see her now and then. As my new friend, the ghost hunter said, cats have more of a tendency to return more often than other animals do. Oh, and we've seen Blacky around, too.)

After the party I had to run Uptown. The paper was holding a wine and cheese fundraiser. I wasn't asked. I was told. Which was fine. It was a very nice affair. It was held at an art gallery. I wanted to visit before and never got a chance. This time I had an excuse. I will say that some of the amateur artists in town are very good. I felt good. I told the lady about the school that Becki attends. "Oh, that's one of the best art colleges in the country. Have her bring her portfolio in, and I'll see what I can sell for her." Becki hasn't got anything to sell yet.

Which brings up two other things. First off, you can't count on male cats. As much as I love my two, they don't do their jobs. I hate mice. We had this one. It ran out of the weirdest places at the weirdest times. Always inconvenient. We'd be sitting quietly, watching TV, when suddenly Becki would scream. She'd grab a cat and throw him in her room, and he'd run out as fast as he could. It wasn't that they wouldn't hunt, it's just that they'd play with the mouse for a while. Then they'd get bored and wander off. J.J. finally finished it off and dumped it in someone's bed. Okay, gross. You have to understand cats. I love my cats. It's just that when they kill something off like that, they have to brag. What better way to see it than to put in bed with a loved one? I honestly think they take secret enjoyment out of the scream and cursing that follows the discovery.

So anyway, Becki came home one evening. "Did I tell you Lisa's cat is having kittens?"

"No more cats!" I told her. "It better be a female. No more males."

Well, you get the gist of the conversation. Now we're arguing names, and we haven't even seen it yet. A few weeks from now.... I think Rosey is a great name. Becki and Jon insists I need to see it first. Now how we're going explain why this kitten is wandering around the house to Bill, I don't know. I guess he'll deal with this when it happens.

Next thing we're hiding from him: Ed and I are talking about opening a coffee house. We are researching now. Hopefully this will work better than the last money making scheme we came up with.