I someehow missed out on all the 80s teen flicks, even though I was an 80s teen, so Shelly decided we should watch Heathers. It's a typical 80s teen flick, only with more psychotic behavior and a higher body count. Heathers is kinda like Reservoir Dogs, only it takes place in a high school, there's no jewel heist, there's no policeman hostage, nobody's ear gets cut off, the dialog is completely different, there's no warehouse, the characters aren't named after colors, not as many people die, and it wasn't written by Quentin Tarantino.
We also watched the movie Adaptation, which is a film about the making of the movie Adaptation.
Then the Christmas kitty showed up.
For the past couple nights, I've been hearing a cat crying somewhere outside the window. Shelly and I have looked for it several times, without any success, which sucks because it's been cold and wet and rainty and miserable for days, and there's nothing more heartbreaking than the sound of a miserable, frightened cat. As S and </i>M</i> were leaving last night, they finally spotted the cat--on the third-story roof of the apartment next door. Apparently it climbed a tree, dropped onto the roof from an overhead branch, and then got stuck.
We couldn't get up to it, and we couldn't get the animal rescue emergency hotline to respomd, so we tossed some tuna fish onto the roof (which made the cat deliriously happy), then the four of us stayed up 'til 3 AM trying to figure out how to get the poor thing down. We finally called it a wash when we struck out trying to reach maintenance, the non-emergency fire/rescue number, animal control, and anyone else who might have a three-story ladder, which was disheartening because it stormed something fierce after we went back inside. This morning, Shelly knocked on the neighbor's door, who finally rescued the cat through the top-floor window.
So the cat was hungry, cold, and frightened but seems none the worse for all that.
Today; hanging out with the Smoosh, and more World of Warcraft.