Super-Duper Wacky n' Tacky Euro Adventure

as hard as I can to really be nice and let Mme Contesso slide in her dinner duties like she has for the past two weeks; It's 9:40 and I just got done with dinner. But it's ok, because there was a tragedy in the family and I am a very caring and understanding individual. But now her mom has come to stay for an indefinite amount of time. It's not her at all. I actually find her very polite and entertaining with her stories and impeccable upper-class French accent. She tells me about that one terrible time she had in Moscow, where she was forced to bring biscuits and champagne from France because "there's nothing to eat in Russia!" She finally got the date when she last visited to somewhere around two years before the wall fell. Excellent. No, the problem is her cat. Now, there was already a cat I had to deal with - Martini. But Martini just kinda chilled generally and crashed my bed every week or so. Now Felicia has come into my room at least seven times in the last 36 hours as she has to make her presence known. She likes to play. She likes to rub against my clothes. She NEVER sleeps. Oh yeah, and I'm also allergic to the little hairball - even with constant Claritin in my system. Here's her worst offense: so not only does she first jump on my dresser and then my bed to join me at 4am this morning, but she also has a little bell just as a courtesy in case I wasn't awake before that damn ringing. I finally take some action and shove her off my bed and in the process, my laptop sitting beside me suddenly becomes a grand diving board for the furball and tumble goes the computer. Well, as you can tell it's alright, but I don't know how much longer I can take this beast. So I don't know whether to kill the feline or break down from hunger when it's nine pm and I haven't been fed. Maybe I just need a nice compassionate semi-senial old lady to feed me and entertain me with stories. That would be much better than doing all the work that's about to kick my ass. But for now I can only dream.

Game seven. Go Spurs.