Crazy lady (with cats!)

I was pondering last night, with Muffy & Steph, what my upstairs neighbor must think of me.

I sing in the shower. Loudly. Usually 50's pop tunes. "CUUUUUUUUU-pid, draw back your bo-ow, and let, your arrow flo-ow, straight to, my lover's heart, fo-orr meeeeeeeeeee."

Whenever I walk by the fly paper with the flies all stuck to it I yell "Die, motherfucker," because I really hate the flies. And I love me some Janice Dickinson. Last night, while doing my fave fun time activity of scooping the catbox, I discovered these flies had been trying to lay eggs in my kitties's poo. Well, some choice words yelled at the fly paper. Worse than "die, motherfucker". Yelled at flypaper. Full of fly carcasses. While holding a pooper scooper and a plastic grocery bag (double-bagged, of course) of poo. Picture it.

The stuff I yell at the cats when they fight each other, scratch the screen, scratch me, pee outside the box or throw up on my Playboys? It's not pretty and rarely makes sense. Growling "think inside the box, bitch" probably sounds a little off. Though if she could just see Nani standing in her litter box, happily peeing off the side and onto the floor she would totally understand. Cooing, "Did you kill something, baby? Good job, you kill that toy, Peanut," at 3 in the morning when DKE has woken me up to announce that she's killed her catnip mouse toy for the three millionth time has to sound kinda weird too yeah? Hopefully the upstairs neighbor sleeps through that.

But I KNOW she's seen me out in the back with the weeds when I see a bug, and then squeal like a four year old girl and do the bug dance with flailing arms and head shaking for about a minute. She's gotta think that's odd. Oh, shit. What if Hot Cop next door has seen me do that? Ooooh, so not good. But then again he's probably also seen me take out the trash in my house dress.

Ah, another thing. Yesterday, rather than taking 30 seconds to throw on shorts and a t-shirt to take out the trash, I just threw a short sleeved hoodie over my sarong (wrapped around me like a towel) and went out in my koala slippers.

I am so totally the crazy lady in the 'hood with the two cats and the slippers and the housedress (nightshirt, same thing) and the garden. Never getting married. Living to 102 and spending the last 50 years of that alone and inside while the neighborhood children make up scary stories about me. And when I die, my cats will eat me.