“I just spent two and a half weeks in Italy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to be home and able to eat delicious American pizza!”

I could tell the kid rehearsed this, because his presentation was stammered and forced. He got completely off-kilt when I got out a “Hello!” before he was able to start. Also, seriously, delicious American pizza? Maybe if he’d ordered from the Indy, but the Franchise’s pies taste like cardboard with red sauce and cheese.

Because nothing says “living room” like a giant Lego model of Hogwarts and a shotgun.

Well, not to me anyway.

I haven’t found them in stores yet, but you can still preorder the Raptor, Viper Mark VII, and Colonial One from Big Bad Toy Store. And unlike many online “speciality” retailers, they won’t rape you on the price.

It’s probably his silky soft coat, but while Tippy was relatively untouched by the fleas, Guy was a mess — Dr. Williams from the Hunt Valley Animal Hospital called me yesterday afternoon to discuss his infestation with me, and now I’ve got a twice-daily medication to give him (that’ll be fun), plus he needed a shot to help heal some of the self-inflicted wounds he’d been giving himself trying to rid the fleas. He’s already showing me how much he likes me — which is to say, not very much — he crouched at the far end of the cat carrier when I picked him up, and although he deigned to sniff my hand when I got them home and set them loose, he’s sitting at the far end of the living room, grooming himself and giving me nasty looks.

Here’s some advice: y’know those commercials for online-vet-medications? They’re worthless. I thought I was being clever buying Frontline from them at a savings — and when you think about it, even over-the-counter-from-the-vets-Frontline isn’t all that expensive — but the online stuff is shit. It’s not “the same thing repackaged”, it’s just utter fucking crap. And I have a $300+ vet bill to prove it.

(On the bright side, my apartment is really fucking clean and organized.)

While I was waiting for the cats to be brought up from boarding, I glanced through a flyer on the desk that said that all animals over seven years are considered “seniors.” I adopted them both from the Humane Society of Baltimore County in the fall of 1999 — Tippy was a little kitten, Guy was two, and now they’re both seniors. They grow up so fast. I remember when Tippy could curl up comfortably in the palm of my hand.

So the question is about next week. Geisha — since she lives around the corner and is cool like that — had agreed to stop by once a day and bring in the mail and make sure the felines had fresh water and food. But I’m worried about the twice-daily medication — for one thing, I don’t want to impose on her to stop by twice a day (but maybe I’ll bribe her with a case of Troegs). For another thing, I’m a little worried about how Guy is going to react to taking the medication — I mean, it’ll certainly involve chasing him around the apartment, and then it’ll involve prying open his mouth with a possibility for a claw attack. I mean, I can close off the bedrooms to the cats while I’m away, so chasing won’t be that big a problem. But it’s the scratch thing I worry about.

Anyway, we’ll see tonight his reaction to the meds — if he gets violent, I’m not going to ask Geisha to do it, it’d be hazardous to her health! (Both my cats are fully “armed”, although neither is “operational”.) I do have other options:

One - I can board the cats while I’m away. This is expensive and I’d rather not do it.

Two - I can take the cats with me. This is an option, but I’d rather not — it’s a two hour drive to West Virginia and I think that after about twenty minutes of mrowling, I’d kill myself.

Apparently, Target has some sort of exclusive DVD deal with the Food Network. I don’t do much cooking — putting pizzas into the oven doesn’t count — but I tell you, I thought about buying some of Giada De Laurentiis’ cooking DVDs, just to stare into her beautiful eyes. Scrumcalicious.