Can't wait to go to England so that I can stop being so bored pie

As the above title suggests, I saw Waitress just now. It's a weird sort of movie; one that impacted me and made me feel all warm inside; but not warm and goopy like some regrettable tearjerkers, not warm and goopy like the part where the dog finally comes back to the little boy or the horse wins the race and the girl's father finally respects her. It felt....well, like a pie. Sweet, but flavorful, and like a good pie should be, delicious to the last crumb. The characters can be over-the-top but still genuinely human and the story is rounded enough that you can't pin it down as one specific thing. It's not plot-driven (unless you count, of course, the pregnancy), it's character-driven, and it's one big hug of a movie.

Moving on....

We took the cat to the vet today. The cat is sixteen years old, and as we've found out, he's lost 20% of his body weight this year, and there's a chance that he might be close to getting one of those elderly cat health problems. In order to find this out, the vet needed to take a blood sample, and the cat was having none of that; so the vet said she would sedate the cat and, about and hour later, we could pick him up.

So she did. She gave the cat Hydromorphone, a derivative of morphine.

"He'll be fine until it wears off. He might seem a little loopy, might get disoriented. He might see things that aren't really there."

Okay, we said. Apparently it would make him happier too, so that was a plus, since he gets crotchety when in the car.

Look, I've been in a car with this cat for four days straight. He never calms down, not for at least forty-five minutes. He yowls and howls and tries to hide under the driver's feet, he sits on your lap and glares at you while wailing at the top of his lungs. But this time, he jumped out of the carrier, into the backseat, and spent the entire half-hour drive going back and forth between the windows in the back, paws up on the door handle and looking at all the cars like a little puppy. And he was totally silent.

Also, his pupils were almost totally dilated.

So we got him home, and instead of letting me carry him in the house he sat on my shoulder like a parrot. I put him down, and when he walked his back legs didn't seem to be catching up to his front legs. Then we had to go out again for some shopping. I got back and found the cat dangling by one paw from the drapes in the upstairs bedroom. I unhooked his claws, but he wouldn't go away from the window, there was something on the window sill or just above it that needed attending to. For two hours, the cat sat staring at the sill.

We get the blood tests back for him tomorrow, and the truth is that I'm scared; if there is something wrong with him, I don't know what I'll do. I've had that cat since I can remember, practically.

The good news is that the parents have discussed getting another pet for the house. Probably a puppy. Our animals are getting old, and something young and happy could help them through it....and us too, when the time comes.


So, it's midnight and I'm not tired; I have a dictionary of symbols and Carl Jung and Paradise Lost to keep me company........and I'm re-reading The Sandman. I want to read something, but I don't want to think. Thank you, Graphic Novels. I just finished re-reading Watchmen the other day. God, that's a depressing story, but good nonetheless. Disturbing.

MMMMMMMM, night.