07.05.04 - 8:56 p.m.

I honestly don't know what is wrong with me, people. This is the third or fourth time this summer I've abandoned ship on this diary for a week or two. And I haven't even been on vacation! My brain wishes it were on vacation, because then I wouldn't have to deal with hysterical heads of nonprofit institutions and typing up random pitch letters as to why people should profile said hysterical heads of nonprofit institutions at a moment's notice, not to mention figuring ways to sneak out of the office early for various and sundry occasions such as a) buying sandwiches before the free Bryant Park movie b) running to Bendel's to make sure its shoe selection didn't have anything better to accompany my August wedding dress (which it didn't) and then quickly driving to Saks to return another rejected pair of shoes (and then finding a pair of Prada loafers at deep discount, hooray!) or c) hanging out with Erin and getting extremely drunk.*

*Note: this drunk thing did not happen immediately and spontaneously. First I met her in Union Square. On my way there, I noticed that Amuse was having a happy hour special, but first we had to go to Mary's Dairy to meet Julia and eat ice cream. Once that was finished, we went back to Amuse, drank a few beevos, picked up another member of the party, went to Hi-Fi, drank a few more beevos and did a lemon drop shot in order to make the $20 minimum on my credit card tab, then went to a random French restaurant in the East Village where we saw Leelee Sobieski and where I ate escargot and drank some red wine. I can't even tell you what varietal it was, and that should give you a good picture as to my mental state. I couldn't even meet Dan and friends at the crab bar I've been wanting to go to for SO LONG, that's how drunk I was. I had to set the alarm on my phone because I knew I was going to pass out on the slow bus home, that's how drunk I was. I woke up before the alarm as we passed the White Castle, but still.

Perhaps the key is to start updating at work again and religiously clearing my cache/cookies, but I am still afeared of that option.

In all seriousness, it's been a long, hard week -- a bipolar week, if you will, vacillating between extremely great and gut-punching awful. On the great side, I got one kickass night and one relaxing afternoon with my bestest friend from Chicago, an event that will most likely not repeat itself till October, and then only if I'm lucky. I ate much food and bonded with many of my nearest and dearest, swam in a pool two weekends in a row and watched one of my best college friends get married in what was one of the most honest, true-to-real-life ceremonies I've seen. And I hate wedding ceremonies.

But then there was the matter of Oreo. And I really can't say it any better than Dan has, because Oreo was really his cat and not mine, but after knowing him for three years I feel like he was family to me too. And it was such a hard weekend to get through knowing I'd have to say goodbye, and harder kissing him for the last time, and being in the house last night without him was almost more than I could bear. I can't even be articulate about how much I miss him and his "mrrrowww" and his essential cat-ness and his mole-catching and his demanding way of making me drop the ham on the floor so he can gobble it up. Kodi was senile for at least a year before he died, and TC is nearly senile now, so it won't be such a shock when we get the phone call from Dad. With Oreo, it wasn't even a week and he was gone.

However, the Guns n' Roses "Behind the Music" is on at 10, and our laundry is completely finished for the first time since May. So there are small victories and ways to distract me from the grief, which makes me feel guilty, because who cries this much over a cat? But I do. I loved him, and still love him, and I guess I'm a crazy cat lady then. I got nothin' else to say.