Pot can lead to stroke, but where does "The Bachelor" get you?

Today I learned that I have a job until at least the end of January! Hooray! I also learned today that there are three known cases of adolescent male potheads dying of stroke. It was in the Journal of Pediatrics, so it must be true! Still, I like the idea that if you smoke too much weed even your blood gets lethargic. It clots, sits on your brain and just goes, "It's hard circulating and shit. Dude, just, just give up."

It is so so cold here today. I'm sure those of you living in parts of the world where it actually gets super cold would be like, "You are such a wimp," but for Portland, it is just about as cold as it gets. It's 45 degrees right now, but it was 39 when I went to work this morning at 7. It's also windy, and the air is beautifully crisp and clear, but my God, it chills you right to the bone.

Okay, so I was going to post a picture of Portland in the fall (I don't have one because I keep forgetting to take one) and my search for "Portland autumn" turned up a picture, titled "Autumn," of a half-naked girl I may have gone to college with. So nevermind.

Although thinking about people I used to go to school with in (possibly) compromising positions leads me (naturally) to The Bachelor: Rome. One of the final four contestants is a girl I went to high school with (Lisa). I don't know if she's still in the running (we DVR'd it because it's just too weird to see someone you totally recognize on TV to miss it, but we weren't willing to miss Heroes to watch it live), but if she is, you should totally check it out.

Please name my cat.

I have plenty to blog about when I'm at work. I think of dozens of things every day that would make interesting, thoughtful posts. And then I get home and become Queen of the Brain Damaged. Maybe it's because at work my brain is free to delve the depths of the human condition (or at least to do lit searches on a variety of health-related topics) while at home the thing that seems to preoccupy my thoughts more than anything else is: how does the kitten's tiny ass produce such enomously disgusting smells?

The kitten (pictured here in her August size), by the way, still does not have a name. We've had her since July and cannot pick a proper monkier. The Humane Society called her Domino, probably because she's black with white toes, nose and chest. She has the longest tail of any cat - juvinile or adult - I've ever seen, so we've been calling her Monkey most recently. (It pretty much wraps around her whole body.) For a little while in the beginning she was called Holly for Holly Golightly who couldn't (or wouldn't) name her cat, because it was taking us so long to pick a name. Then she was Mica because of her eye color (Mom's suggestion).
But nothing sticks. Mom's newest suggestion is something canine-related because she'll eat anything, much like a dog. The kitten doesn't answer to "Fido" any more than she did to Holly or Monkey. She did answer to "Heidi" once or twice, but as that's the other cat's name it's not really a solution.
This second picture is much more recent - less than a week old. If you can think of a name for this cat, I suggest that you suggest it! And nothing to do with her markings. My uncle has already suggested the following:

• Socks
• Boots
• Mittens
• White Paws
  
• Shoes

He may also be responsible for "Bibs," but that's not going to fly either.

So after two years in Maryland, I'm back in Portland and hotdamn if it isn't good to be back! I could probably fill this whole blog with posts about things I hated about Maryland (or as I like to call it, "Craphole") but that doesn't sound very healthy. Or fun to read. But it might be cathartic... Anyway, that's not what I'm going to do. I imagine such comparisons will likely make their way into my posts, but hopefully only from time-to-time and without being too hard on poor Craphole. I mean Maryland. Right.