Koogle Presents the Koogle Show Starring Koogle

Okay, so I was misinformed by the patient herself, and they're not actually allowing flowers in the room, per Ellen. D'oh. They are appreciated. At least that's what Amanda told me last night on the phone. I'm going by the hospital tonight.

She called last night ... to have me check an auction on eBay. At least it was a closed auction, and she'd been high bidder. So I guess I can't complain all that much, since she's now supposed to contact the seller. It would suck for the other person to think she'd sold the item, then not ever have the buyer contact her. Amanda said she'd have her mom do that.

The word is that they might let her go home Thursday, but that would actually be early, so it might not happen that way.

After posting the other night's entry, I realized I hadn't talked about cats. Not that I'm trying to emulate the whole koogle experience, because I can't do that, but I can at least stand on all the same marks and deliver some lines (to carry the Joan Rivers analogy further).

So, cats. Jester, on the short list of the stupidest cats alive, has suddenly decided that my bedroom is too cold for him. Or maybe he just wants to be closer to me or something. Anyway, the past two nights he's set about burying himself under the comforter, and he won't come out until I've been out of the bed for about half an hour. All id, that cat is. If I pick him up and toss him across the room, he'll just come right back and try to barrel his way back under the covers. So I just let him.

I'm not supposed to do that -- I'm supposed to keep the cats out my bedroom entirely, according to the allergist, since I'm allergic to them and all. The allergist hasn't lived with Jester though. That cat can push open a door despite the presence of every dirty item of laundry I have on the other side of it (no mean feat, since I've got about three weeks worth of gap t-shirts I can run through if I don't have time to do laundry). The only way to keep him out of the bedroom would be to find another house for him to live in. Oh well. He's cute, if thick headed.

Spike is being a lonely old man of a cat. He won't come out of the second bedroom, and if he does he won't go back in. He won't eat unless the door's closed. He's iffy on the litter box, too. And then he whines when I don't come in and see him.

And Cosmo is starting to mellow out. He's spontaneously placed himself in my lap several times in the past few weeks, and he's starting to approach me for scritches at other times than his usual, which is immediately after I'm out of the shower. He's a goofy cat.

Anyway, I should go update my own diary too. More info on Amanda as I have it.

before - after