My Fun Friday Nights

Friday Night Fun
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Yes, I live alone with two cats.I am not sure if I have gone completely crazy yet, I will leave that for others to judge. Anyone who ever bothers to read me already knows I rarely sleep and when I manage to, I have bad dreams, but what they don't know is what I do for fun <apparently> on a friday night. Let me give you an example.

First, at around 5:00p.m. I decide what pajamas I want to put on. After a great deal of consultation with the Weather Channel, lest I be caught unaware by a cold snap and be forced to actually consider another blanket. Once in bed, there are only 2 or 3 things that qualify as get-out-of-bed-worthy. One is a sudden BLINDING URGE TO PEE. Another is the realization that I somehow had forgotten that there was dessert of any kind left uneaten in the apartment. That's pretty much it, with the possible exception of hearing a monster voice say "I am going to kill you." That's a dicey choice though, because it might be just me half asleep, talking to Remy (the bad cat)...Anyhow, once esconced I do not get out of bed, unless I feel the need to sob online. That's usually around dawn, so I can't really justify listing it since I have to get up sometime...

Around 6:30p.m. I consider myself properly settled in for a rolicking fun friday night. Somehow I have managed by then to have forgotten (blocked out) my previous fun friday night so when the "commotion" starts, it is a complete surprise to me.

I have a very dear friend who has 3 cats. He says he goes to bed, flops on his stomach, and each cat goes to their own particular place on his bed and everyone sleeps nicely. I have 2 cats and I go to bed, spend 60 minutes fighting my pillows, another 45 or so arranging sheets and blankets to a comfortable perfecton. My 2 cats wait patiently untill I have achieved zen-sheet-tucked-in nirvana, then climb into bed and immediately morph into the 3 Stooges.

Everybody is slapping, hopping onto, biting, usurping positions, scrambling, zipping across and leap frogging all over ME. Remy is the annoyer and Maggie is the annoyee. They both are completely oblivious to any reactions I may have. At the height of the commotion, Remy snakes down inbetween the sheets amd warmly snuggles next to my leg, purring with contentment and pretending he's in love wth me and that nothing makes him happier than to be by my side. This is a ruse, cleverly calculated to make Maggie try to find him and claw him to death through the covers. She does this with enthusiasm and a remarkable ability to constantly miss Remy and get my legs.

Around 8 or so, I am able to stop teaching Remedial Cat Flying 101 and the guys, who weren't tired in the first place, have disappeared to fight elsewhere. If I am really lucky, I don't start hearing glass breaking until just before I actually start drifting off into a restless drowse, accompanied by the relentless drone of yet another National Geographc Special about the importance of conserving the rapidly dwindling populaton of large cats in Africa.

My TV has a timer that I set to coincide with the quieting of my racing mind shenanigans. Generally I snap in and out of a drowse state into painful clarity. Tonight I gave up and started watching an "Iron Chefs" competition that challenged said chefs to cook a 5 course meal featuring sea urchins in every dish. As I become fascinated with the dubbed commentary of japanese actresses who giggle a lot and claim to be puzzled as to why anyone would CHOOSE to kill the flavor of a raw sea urhin with wasabi mixed with hot sake, my timer switches the show off.

It's about 10:30 now and by the time I find out where the cats hid the remote control during their Smackdown Wrestling Freeforall, I am ready to seek more educational and worthy viewing.

I settled on a newish program, a reality show about a man who has this honest and penetrating need to visit primitive canibalistic tribes in faraway jungles and stuff. I think it's called "Going Tribal." It stars a wiry litte British guy wth a Cockney accent so strong that I can understand the cannibals easier. On the episode I caught last night, he requested permission to spend a month with a primitive band who used hallucinogenics to initiate their young men into "manhood." He expressed a desire to be inducted into manhood at the end of the month if considered "worthy." Apparently the hallucinogenics available in Great Britain hadn't done the trick.

The jaybird naked tribesmen he approached with his brilliant idea muttered and laughed a bit, then requested he get naked, too.

Now, it was getting interesting...but as I fall into an uneasy drug induced sleep of my own, all I hear is the unmistakable sound of a wiry little cockney smart aleck, barfing his brains out...