Monday, January 10, 2005

My iPod Has a First Name...

Ever notice that once you reach about 16, Christmas gifts just aren't any fun anymore? You get gifts like socks and sweaters. And yet you're supposed to act just as excited as you did when you got the scented My Little Pony that you asked God for every night (just in case Santa let you down).

But this year was different. I actually got stuff I wanted. Mostly, I got an iPod! It's not baby pink like I asked Santa and God, mainly because it was bought by Sweetiepie who's way too manly to ever buy something pink. But it is baby blue, which would have been my second choice, if I were given one. But here's the best part... My iPod has my name on it.

Some would say that's so I can remember my name more easily, since I had to ask Martini Gal what my blog's address was to blog today. Yes, insert your own joke about me not being good about posting here.

The only thing I always forget about Christmas is never to even look in the direction of something if I don't want it. A good friend of mine happened to get a poncho a month or so before Christmas, and I thought the polite thing was to go on and on about it. It did look cute on her. However, I'm of the belief that ponchos look like blankets. And I don't have enough cuteness in me to putt off wearing a blanket.

Sweetie Pie happened to be there during the poncho oohing and aahing, so guess who is now the proud owner of a poncho? No, not her. Nope, not her either.

Never mind. Stop guessing! I'm serious. Shut up right now. It's me you moron! ME! I'm the owner of a poncho now.

Anyway, you just ruined a perfectly good story. So the point is, I now have a poncho that I have to wear with a smile over perfectly normal looking clothes.

The story would have a very tragic ending, if it wasn't that my life, in the typical sitcom fashion that it's always followed where things magically resolve themselves during the 26th minute, Sweetie Pie decided he didn't like the way the poncho looked on me either. So I've been saved!

Well, this posting is probably a real let down. The thing is that I am keeping a very dark secret in right now. And it's kind of controlling all of my other thoughts.

It's the kind of secret that you're supposed to wait a while to tell.

Plus, I don't know if those of you who read this even care...

What the hell, I'll tell you anyway. Catwoman is pregnant with her own litter of catbabies. Well, hopefully not a litter. Hopefully there's just one in there. Because, really, there's only so much chocolate one person can eat!

I just hope I'm pregnant with a four year old, because that's the age I get better along with. Sweetie Pie always tells me babies don't like me because they tend to wail every time I get within six feet of them.

So now you guys get to live through my quirky thoughts on morning sickness, swollen boobies (should someone's mother really use the word boobies?) and other fun stuff like that. Hang on, it'll be an interesting ride!

Love,

Catwoman.


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