This is probably the most nonsensical blog that is not written by a teenager.
I read other blogs by young adults and I'm always impressed by their Deep Thoughts and Introspection. Caps are necessary. I assure you I mull over made-up and real adult problems too (sometimes) (rarely) but.. but...
Cats.
And yes, this is the internet, which is full of cats, but I was looking at my own cat, Francis P. Cat, and I was suddenly overcome by how adorable he is and I knew I had to blog about it.
Francis P. Cat is 4 1/2 years old and is a fluffy ginger disaster.
The P stands for
Pickle
Princess
Potato
Pumpkin
Pumpkinbutt
Pumpkinutter
Princess Buttercup
Princess Butterbutt
Picklebutt
Poophead
He puts up with me most of the time, except for when he is hungry, and then he is my bff. I assume this is how most cats are. Francis is my French Roommate.
Francis is not good at eating things that aren't cat kibble.
This is how most of his encounters with non-kibble go:
Popcorn?
Too confusing.
Insects? (including dead ones)
Just fall out of my mouth.
Pieces of chicken?
It won't fit in my mouth.
Chocolate
don't even care enough to bother trying to eat it.
Sea Salt and Pepper Chips?
omg ys pls I eat them all
He can only manage chips. I'm not sure why/how, since he is a dumbass when it comes to putting anything else in his mouth. Also, he licks my rain boots? Is this odd? Should I be concerned? Probably.
That's enough about my cat. I'm boring myself already.
Soooo in other news I went to the library yesterday! Yay exciting! You cannot imagine how freaked out I was when I first moved to Maine and discovered that the library in town was a Free Library. Not a county library. Like... what? I was so used to each county having their own libraries but I guess that's not a thing in Maine. It can be frustrating, especially when there's a book I want, and I know that if I was back in Hennepin County I could drive ten minutes to the next library and see if they have it, and go to a whole string of libraries before admitting defeat, going to Half Price Books to console myself, and finding the book there for $4. It's a tough life here in Maine. I am not sure how people put up with it.
Anyway, I'm getting off track.
So, even though I've lived here for a year (aaaaah!) I'd only ever been on the first floor of the library. I got it into my head Sunday night that I wanted to write a story that was set in pseudo-coastal Maine, but since I essentially know nothing about the history of the area, I knew there was only one one place to find the information I needed.
So I got off work, debated if I should park at home and walk the three blocks, decided to drive because winter, and ENTERED THE LIBRARY.
I made my way cautiously to the second floor (which is the children's floor) set off an alarm, and finally made my way to the Mysterious Third Floor.
OH
MY
GOD.
At first
And then as I took in all of the old, old books about the local history, written by local authors since way back when, all in rows and rows and shelves and shelves and all packed in there together I quickly moved to
I wanted to touch EVERYTHING. I wanted to sit down with twenty of those books and just hold them and then read them, and then take notes on them and then make some generic historical analyses and learn about genealogy and feminism and the economy and culture and notable people and famous shipwrecks and then write an effing PAPER about that shit.
This was me.
The whole three minutes I allowed myself to be on that third floor.
I read other blogs by young adults and I'm always impressed by their Deep Thoughts and Introspection. Caps are necessary. I assure you I mull over made-up and real adult problems too (sometimes) (rarely) but.. but...
Cats.
And yes, this is the internet, which is full of cats, but I was looking at my own cat, Francis P. Cat, and I was suddenly overcome by how adorable he is and I knew I had to blog about it.
Francis P. Cat is 4 1/2 years old and is a fluffy ginger disaster.
The P stands for
Pickle
Princess
Potato
Pumpkin
Pumpkinbutt
Pumpkinutter
Princess Buttercup
Princess Butterbutt
Picklebutt
Poophead
He puts up with me most of the time, except for when he is hungry, and then he is my bff. I assume this is how most cats are. Francis is my French Roommate.
Francis is not good at eating things that aren't cat kibble.
This is how most of his encounters with non-kibble go:
Popcorn?
Too confusing.
Insects? (including dead ones)
Just fall out of my mouth.
Pieces of chicken?
It won't fit in my mouth.
Chocolate
don't even care enough to bother trying to eat it.
Sea Salt and Pepper Chips?
omg ys pls I eat them all
He can only manage chips. I'm not sure why/how, since he is a dumbass when it comes to putting anything else in his mouth. Also, he licks my rain boots? Is this odd? Should I be concerned? Probably.
That's enough about my cat. I'm boring myself already.
Soooo in other news I went to the library yesterday! Yay exciting! You cannot imagine how freaked out I was when I first moved to Maine and discovered that the library in town was a Free Library. Not a county library. Like... what? I was so used to each county having their own libraries but I guess that's not a thing in Maine. It can be frustrating, especially when there's a book I want, and I know that if I was back in Hennepin County I could drive ten minutes to the next library and see if they have it, and go to a whole string of libraries before admitting defeat, going to Half Price Books to console myself, and finding the book there for $4. It's a tough life here in Maine. I am not sure how people put up with it.
Anyway, I'm getting off track.
So, even though I've lived here for a year (aaaaah!) I'd only ever been on the first floor of the library. I got it into my head Sunday night that I wanted to write a story that was set in pseudo-coastal Maine, but since I essentially know nothing about the history of the area, I knew there was only one one place to find the information I needed.
So I got off work, debated if I should park at home and walk the three blocks, decided to drive because winter, and ENTERED THE LIBRARY.
I made my way cautiously to the second floor (which is the children's floor) set off an alarm, and finally made my way to the Mysterious Third Floor.
OH
MY
GOD.
At first
And then as I took in all of the old, old books about the local history, written by local authors since way back when, all in rows and rows and shelves and shelves and all packed in there together I quickly moved to
I wanted to touch EVERYTHING. I wanted to sit down with twenty of those books and just hold them and then read them, and then take notes on them and then make some generic historical analyses and learn about genealogy and feminism and the economy and culture and notable people and famous shipwrecks and then write an effing PAPER about that shit.
This was me.
The whole three minutes I allowed myself to be on that third floor.
SILENT SCREAMS
Apparently I really, really, really miss being a History Major?! I'm not surprised. Old stuff. All you need to do is give me a book written before 1910 and I will be yours forever. (That's not true. Give me an original edition of Travels in West Africa by Mary Kingsley and I will be yours forever)
So, the actual point of this story about my trip to the library, is that I forced myself away from the glorious wonders of the third floor (and it was only because I didn't have my laptop/notebook and couldn't take notes) and went back to the first floor, where I discovered that my library has a very impressive (considering the size of the library) collection of books about New England and Maine's history.
ALSO. The crown jewel of this library trip was this book: The History of Belfast, Maine. It's about 1,000 pages long and it was written in the 19th century and I want to keep it forever.
In the end, I went crazy in the library, borrowed about ten books, and was glad that I drove there after all.
I think I started this post talking about cats?
Here's a cat.
I need to calm down. Just thinking about the library got me all worked up. Maybe I'll read my ten books. Frank is chirping at me because he wants his second dinner. OK FINE I GIVE MY CAT TWO DINNERS.
:)
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