If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have adopted Dolly.

I think Dolly may be interested in having another cat around the house. I’ve been playing some cat sounds, and no matter where she is in the apartment, she’ll coming running into my room. A second cat is something I only started to consider this term. Last term it felt as if I wouldn’t be able to handle the chores, let alone doubling my annual veterinarian bill. Sometimes she seems lonely though, like when she immediately starts to cry when I walk in the door after a day of school, her protesting only being soothed after picking her up, and being replaced by a low purr. I’ve always seen myself as a one cat person; I think I’d feel a little imbalanced if I had more than one. If I do decide to get one, it will definitely be after I graduate, definitely after I find a stable job, and possibly after I can purchase a condo. It would be more for Dolly than for me though. I can’t imagine finding another cat that is as well-adapted as she is, so the idea scares me a little.

One time I discussed with Pita whether he would ever consider getting two dogs. He said that he couldn’t, not just because it would be much harder to handle, but because he would feel more favourable to one or the other.

The idea of favour is one that I haven’t been able to understand. How can parents love all their kids without liking one more than the other, especially when one follows the desires of the parents more closely. It might be something I don’t understand, being an only child. If such a balance is possible, wouldn’t polygamous relationships work as well? I think part of the misunderstanding stems from my confusion of relational love and parental love as well.

For love is the root of my imbalance.

I can’t help but smile when I catch Dolores roll belly-up.

I spent the weekend at Trolley’s place and had a great time. We just hung out, played Gamecube, and watched some movies. I’m not sure if I overstayed my welcome, but I’m sure that any good host is able to blur that fine line. It’s good to have another friend that I can connect with. Wheaties and Ian went skiing at Tremblant, and although I was invited, I felt like I wasn’t prepared to spend over $100 on a lift ticket with rentals.

Trolley also introduced me to Crank Yankers, a hilarious show on Comedy Central. The concept of the show is that people make crank calls, and both the roles of caller and reciever are played out using puppets. The crank calls are usually very original though, sometimes involving a third party (such as a mother picking up the phone while her son is calling about a penis enlarger). Everything is very well done, and the actors are able to improvise their lines with perfect precision depending on what an unwitting participant says. My favourite
series of crank calls are by Spoonie Love, the resident playa (played by SNL’s Tracey Morgan). Sometimes he’ll call a newspaper to place a classified ad, and his message will involve busting a double horizontal on someone’s ass.

Thom lent me his Pantera DVD, 3 Vulgar Videos from Hell. The music hasn’t been that great, but the behind-the-scenes and concert footage is good. It’s also mesmerizing to see the confidence that Phil Anselmo exudes at the concerts, the way Danko Jones or Kid Rock seem to in their music videos.

I was awakened by Dolly scratching at my sheets this morning. As soon as I lifted them up, she went underneath and tried to sleep on my stomach. Unfortunately, my thin frame didn’t provide much of a foundation, and she slid to one side, but eventually fell asleep there anyway. It’s the first time she has been comfortable enough to sleep under the sheets, instead of beside my head as usual.

I stumbled across the site of an intelligent girl who writes about things in relationships not commonly discussed, and who happens to inhabit the same city as I do. I enjoy the polish and depth that her editorials have, but I think it’s her openness that I can appreciate most. It’s always fascinating to find out a female opinion on some of the more taboo sex related subjects, instead of the opinion which other guys believe they know.

The entire Columbia Space Shuttle incident has made me feel like we’re still very primitive in our exploration methods, and that we should simply leave well enough alone until we’re ready. It’s like we’re trying to break the sound barrier again, and people are sacrificing their lives in the pursuit of knowledge. I suppose that if they’re willing to make that sacrifice, then their decision must be respected. Otto Lilienthal would be proud.

Dolly singed off about six more whiskers today when she passed by a candle on the way to the windowsill.