Either she's dead or my watch has stopped.

I'm alive! I've been busy with academic things lately and haven't had much time to knit, let alone time to post about the knitting I'm not doing. In lieu of any exciting knitting content, please accept this list of unorganized observations and thoughts: It's hot here. And when I say "hot" I mean temperatures in the 90's (30's if you're not American) and lots of humidity. The cat has taken to sleeping in the bathroom behind the toilet, as apparently that's the coolest place in the apartment. I'm considering shoving him out and sitting there myself (if I'd fit -- I'm also considering a compromise that involves sitting in the bathtub with a Mojito). I hate knitting big projects only. I'm working on two sweaters right now, and I'm starting to resent them both because of the heat and the slow progress. Stupid ribbed sweater. I hate ribs. Ugly, time consuming things with their silly little up-and-down bits. I'm currently having vague thoughts of sending my mystery sweater (see previous post) into Knitty or Magknits, so I'm afraid there won't be any more posts about it for a while. Although this is assuming that I can find a way to knit while in the bathtub. We're thinking of getting another cat. Last night we went back to the Cozy Cat Cottage where we adopted Dmitri and had a look around. Before we walked in, we rehearsed our plan: we want a female, about a year old, same size as Dmitri, and not black and white (ok, this last bit is mine because I have some bizarre hang up about the cats complimenting each other). When we left, we were trying to decide between three cats: all female, two tiger striped -- one is 2 years old, one is about a year -- and one is a calico kitten. You can see the two year old, Dulcinea, in the upper left corner of the page, but the others aren't listed on their website. I know we should get one of the older cats, because she'd get along better with our boy Dmitri, but this is technically my cat, and I'll be taking her with me to Tennessee in August. So I'm very tempted by the calico kitten. But then there's that practical appeal of getting an older cat, as they stand less of a chance of being adopted than the doe-eyed little kittens. So, dramatic and tense, I know. Such is the life of a grad student: always danger, drama, and cats. Stay on the edge of your seats, try not to bite off all of your fingernails, and return next week to see if we get a cat, decide on a cat, or just call the whole thing off. Oh, and have a gratuitous photo of Dmitri eyeing my frozen berries snack.