joyce (joyce) wrote,

So now that graduation is done and moving is mostly done, my signal to noise ratio should get a little bit better (at least until the fall, when I'm back in school.) I'd like to start writing about something other than "i'm tired i'm tired i have too much work oh look! i'm graduating i'm tired man i have a lot of work."


Yesterday was long and hectic and very nice. We had a lazyish morning, then got on the road to Raleigh. We cut it closer getting into Raleigh than we should have, and we both needed food. Everywhere around campus was packed (go figure) so we ended up snarfing down sandwiches from Whole Foods. I was stressing and freaking out about being late on the way down to the high school where they were holding the departmental ceremony, but then I reminded myself that they weren't not going to let me walk if I got there at 1:03, and mostly calmed down. I was still feeling paranoid until I checked in - "Something's going to be wrong, my name's not going to be on the list" but I was, and I got checked in just fine. After all my freaking out about being late, we stood around and waited for half an hour. They didn't count our guests, so I could have gotten people in after all, but the auditorium was standing room only, so then again, maybe not.

The ceremony itself was short and sweet and noisy, just as it should be. There were a few opening remarks, and a brief speech reminding us to pay attention to the alumni association, and then they got down, very efficiently, to the business of shoving our diplomas and our souvenir coffee mugs at us. I got to say hi to the folks I wanted to say hi to before the ceremony, so afterwards we got out of there, picked up a few things at the apartment, and drove back to my parents' house. On the way, we got the news that Hope was at Urgent Care, dealing with some nasty splinters that she picked up at school; it wouldn't be a family occasion without someone having to do to the doctor. She got taken care of quickly, though, and mom and dad took us out for hibachi for dinner (good food, huge portions; I have a substantial chunk of salmon in the fridge for lunch today). Dinner was good, and everyone got along. We went back to the house and took pictures of Faith and I in our caps and gowns and with various family members, and then Jeff and I came home and fell over. It was a good day.

I should preface this story with the statement that Marty - the cat in the userpic - is a climber. If it's high enough, she will climb. She's the one that scaled the curtains in the office this spring and balanced herself on the curtain rod and the window frame, then looked down at me as if to say "Uh, okay, now what do I do?" If she gets into one of the clothes closets, she'll leap up on top of the clothes and start walking across the clothes hangers. Most cats are climbers to some extent, but Marty seems to enjoy it much more than Ellie. Ellie got herself on top of the front door one day recently, via the entertainment center, freaked out, and has gone for nothing higher than the windowsill beside my desk since then.

So, last night about two in the morning, I wake up to hear what sounds like a cat running back and forth - and sliding - in the bathtub, making a huge ruckus. Normally, when they wake us up at night, I wait it out, since the inconvenience of the noise is fair outweighed by not wanting to get out of bed; Jeff usually cracks first and gets up. Last night, though, he was sleeping more heavily than I was. After a couple of minutes, the fact that our shower in this house has doors, not curtains, which we keep closed, and thus, that there shouldn't be a kitten in the shower, cracked through my dim subconscious, and I muttered and got out of bed.

Sure enough, Marty was in the tub, running back and forth and looking panicked. The towel that had been hanging over the shower was in there, too, so all I can guess is that she hopped up onto the sink, then on top of the frame that holds the doors, then either fell into the tub or jumped down in there to play, taking the towel with her, then discovered that she couldn't get out and started panicking. I peered at her for a minute, amused and befuddled as to how there was a cat in the tub when there shouldn't be, then slid the doors open. She popped out gratefully and ran off down the hallway.
Tags: personal:cats, personal:life

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    My travel curse is working from 3000 miles away and 4 months in advance, apparently. Oy.

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