The Perils of Facebook - nah. Cat Puke.

Just as I sat down to start writing a wonderfully humorous and insightful post about how bad Facebook is for making first impressions, my cat (whom I love dearly) puked under my bed. And this was by far the grossest-smelling puke (and, to share the joy of cat puke with you all, the most peanut buttery in texture and appearance) I have ever encountered. So aside from having to clean up a big pile of vomit, I am now suppressing a really strong urge to hurl. I started to write my post anyway, but I am so damn cranky that I just can't do it. Also I am now inhaling the fumes from the carpet cleaner I just put on, which is not doing anything for my normally cheery disposition.

Gah. It's OK. I'm getting a pedicure tomorrow with my best friend from 2nd grade. I will look like I just rolled out of bed and she will have a wonderfully co-ordinated outfit and impeccable makeup, and yet we will gossip like she never went off to Catholic school and I never turned into a crazy hippie with dreads. That is to say, it will be wonderful and I will forget all about how much I love having a cat who cares about me enough to puke right under where I sleep.