i'm so broke. i wore this outfit on friday and people stared at me like i was a nutjob. which i totally am so it was ok.
we went to my parents house for mother's day. it was such a wonderful first mother's day. my two favorites in the world treated me like the queen i am for the whole day.
what wasn't wonderful was saturday. aside from the fact that nobody wanted me on their team for the family volleyball match (rude), Gemma was like a vampire and refused to sleep. she woke up at 3 a.m. for the whole day. just up. awake and ready to party at 3 a.m. she finally went down for a nap at 6:30. which was when i decided to cuddle up and relax and possibly take a chair nap. i hate bed naps. i always feel tired and disoriented and unsatisfied when i wake up. so i decided to take a chair nap since they are not as long. plus, i needed one at this point. but Chanel had other plans. she came slinking around (with her stupid summer haircut) seeking approval. SEEKING APPROVAL BECAUSE SHE HAD A DEAD MOUSE IN HER MOUTH--scratch that. upon closer inspection--A HALF DEAD MOUSE IN HER MOUTH. omg omg omg. vomit. Lola caught wind of the situation and chased after Chanel, who then dropped the paralyzed and frightened mouse. it writhed around in pain and it was so sad. my Mom went over to shoo Lola away so Chanel could finish the job. but that evil feline only wanted to watch the poor creature suffer. she batted at it, urging it to play. it laid on its back, squirming around, beady little eyes filled with terror. it finally made its way to safety under a flower basket, where it could die in peace.
a few hours later, as JJ and i were pressure washing my parents' deck (just please), JJ moved the mouse's flower box and accidentally pressure washed it off the deck. i screamed. it was still alive, the little Hercules. it landed face-first into the grass. i thought the trip down might have killed him. we peered over the edge of the deck. nope. he wiggled around, refusing to die. "DADDDDDDD!!!! DADDDD COME HEREEE!" is what i screamed urgently. he walked casually (no one seems to care when i scream urgently) over to the mouse. "DAD IT'S DYING AND IT'S SUFFERING. KILL IT!" he bent over with his bare hands and picked it up by the tail, flinging it over the cliff. where i can only hope he finally met Death. the whole experience was very traumatic.
the thing is, that is exactly why i don't take naps.