For no pinpointable reason, I only slept an intermittent 2 hours last night, and I think the resulting tired is making me cry. I can't be sure, however, as my tear ducts have been sealed over by eye-crusties. The tired has bogged me down.

So, when am I going to be blessed with non-somnia, already?

Not to be confused with insomniacs, non-somniacs are people who, usually due to dedication to intellectual, saintly, or otherwise metaphysical pursuits, do not need sleep. The non-somniac state is achieved as a result of meditation and deprivation, and is pursued by the same sorts of ubercelibate whack-jobs who forego food, drink, excretion, and sex to clear the path to enlightenment.

Whacked. Sounds like something David Blaine would do.

It's a fantasy of mine to simply be blessed with non-somnia through no effort on my part. Fairy Godmother? I promise to use the gift for good, and not evil, I swear to (Fairy) God(mother). I will dedicate my nights to lofty pursuits such as the learning of languages, the building of the perfect solar-powered automobile, the watching of the entire "Twin Peaks" series, the sculpting of my abs, the mastery of the perfect souflee; just, please, for the love of (Fairy) God(mother), free me from the necessity of sleep.

No? Well, fuck you, too.

Alas, my pleas remain unanswered, and my sleepless nights are depriving and frusterating instead of stimulating and productive. The tired remains, and I haven't the energy to do much other than whine.

As such, I hand much of responsibility for completing this entry over to my New Kitty.

"Hiya!"

New Kitty, as of yet, has no name. He'd been staying at a friends' house while I was out of town, where they had been calling him by the generic title 'Buddy,' but I don't think he looks like a Buddy. I'm toying with the names 'Gobo and 'Rocky,' and am rather partial to the latter, even if it is a little short on originality. If New Kitt's fascination with my bottle of sparkly blue nailpolish persists, I might have to name him after some glam rocker.

"Name me Bowie!"

I'm not naming you 'Bowie.'

"Freddy Mercury!"

No.

"Marilyn Manson!"

Would you stop? This isn't dignified.

Now, by way of introduction, New Kitty, please tell us a little about yourself.

"Me? OK, New Momma Kelly! Way! Rock-n-roll!

"I don't got a name! I'm super cute! I'm white with grey-and-black-striped splotches! I got this big ol' belly that I have to kind of kick out from under me before I lay down! And, I like to lay down a LOT! I'm only about 8 months old! I like exclamation points! When I'm not sleeping, I like to play with empty boxes and BITE stuff! I like to poke my head out of the door of the litter-box cover while I take abnormally smelly poos!"

True things, all. New Kitty, enlighten us as to your background. In what ways are you qualified to be my newly adopted kitty? A little bio, if you would.

"Woo! Whazzat sparkly thing?"

Focus, darling. And, for the record, if you start using phrases like "LOL!" and "OMFG!" you're banned from future entries. Now, your background.

"AH! Wha?"

Your background.

"'Kay!

"I usta live wif an old lady! But she died becayse she was old! So I got throwed out! And I lived on the street for a while, and learned how to eat rats and pick pockets! I had me a whole underground organization of kitty pickpockets! They called me 'Stickypaws McKitten!'

"I stoled watches and wallets and harmonicas and little children and candy and cold, hard cash! Wasn't nothing I couldn't steal! I had this big big big stockpile of all the stuff that me and my underground Pussy Posse stoled! I was the richest kitty ever! But, I lost it all in a mean game of poker!"

New Kitty, you're full of crap.

"Wha?"

You're embellishing a little. Tell the truth.

"Oh. How'd you know?"

Well, as a cat, you haven't the opposable thumbs necessary to be a successful pickpocket or a card shark.

"Little you know, Momma. I'm doing a pretty good job talking and typing, now, aren't I? Those aren't typically feline talents. And, my vocabulary's improving by the second!"

I've noticed that. It's rather unsettling, though it's making you far less annoying to read. You haven't let up on the exclamation points, however.

"NEVER!!!!!!!!"

Whatever happened to meowing? Oh, wait. New Kitty, you don't meow, do you?

"Not as such."

Could you please demonstrate your most feline of utterances, most often said when you're heaving yourself onto my bed?

"Sure thing.

"Ahem:

"Mrrrrggggg!"

Well done, you sweet weirdo. (Yes, folks, that's what my new kitty sounds like, when he's not purring.)

Anyway. So, maybe it's possible that you were the head of an underground Pickpocketing Pussy Posse, and that you lost your loot as the result of an unlucky poker hand. But, for the sake of brevity, and to ensure that no pickpocketing rings will lead back to me, would you be so kind as to abridge your story?

"Yes'm! Sure thing! So, I lived with an old lady! And she died! So, I got throwed out! And I was living on the streets! And, Pussy Posse or no Pussy Posse, living on the streets ain't fun! Nossirree! But ...

"One day, a nice lady found me and put me in her car! And she called Momma Kelly, to see if she wanted me! And Kelly said 'Yes!' So the nice lady took me home for awhile, until Kelly came back from her parents' house! And then Kelly bought litter and stuff, and picked me up!

"I got carried home in a yucky Pet Taxi, which was poopy! Kelly tried to convince me that it was a superfancy Himalayan gondola ride, but I ain't no spring chicken! It was a frickin' Pet Taxi, make no mistake! It was small and smelly and bumpy, and it was snowing and cold outside! Sucky!

"But then we got to Kelly's house, and she opened the door of the pet taxi! And I was freeee!!!! I busted outta there and bolted around Kelly's apartment! There was all this new stuff for me to look at! I freaked out for about 10 minutes, but then I plopped down by Kelly's feet, and we watched a movie while she stroked my belly!

"Hey! 'Belly' rhymes with 'Kelly'! Stroke my belly, Kelly!

"Kelly, Kelly, stroke my belly!

"Momma Kelly, did you know that your name rhymes with 'belly?'"

Um, nope. Can't say I've ever noticed

"That's the coolest thing, ever! You're so lucky! NOTHING rhymes with 'Stickypaws McKitten!'"

What about, "Licky sores are splittin'"?

"Yucky!"

Sorry. I guess unrhymability is your cross to bear.

"Wha?"

Nothing. Judeo-Christian reference. Never mind.

"Wha?"

Nothing. Go on, what else did you do last night?

"OH! I was so sweet and good, and I decided I really like to follow you around and be sweet and good! I like to say 'Mrrrggg' and jump up on your bed! I like to wait until you turn the lights off before peeing, so you can't see where I relieve myself!"

Yes, that made me nervous. I wasn't sure you'd know where the litter box was. To your credit, you figured it all out just fine on your own.

"Yup! I'm smart and good and I can pee in the box!

"OOH! Know what else I like to do?"

What's that?

"Loll! I love lolling!"

Yes. Exactly why I have a cat, and not a dalmation. My little apartment has just enough room for you to romp. I'm glad to have you, so far. Please don't pee on my bed while I'm at work.

"Momma?"

Yes?

"Is it normal for a human lady like you to spend all this time conversing with her cat?"

Um, in some circles, yes. Unfortunately, those are not circles I ever really aspired to be a part of. (Am I a few lawn-sculptures away from being Helen Hunt's crazy aunt from "Twister?" Oh, God ...) Funny how life works out.

"Yep!"

Anything else you'd like to add, my kitty?

"I got big, furry balls!"

Not for much longer, my little friend.

"Wha?"

Nothing.

For the love of Mike, I need sleep. This whole thing makes me a little concerned about how I'd spend my nights as a non-somniac.

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

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