Sunday was amazing. Word On The Street is a festival of all things book located at scenic queen's park circle each September. In years past I'd be working a booth for a publisher, occasionally jumping up on skids and auctioning off books to the cheers of coworkers. I really love selling things, it's my favorite thing next to weddings to do. This year, I wasn't with a publisher in a selling capacity...so I got to read. In a tent. With an audience. And a fabulously skilled co-author. And answer questions and sell one particular book. Basically, I found a new favorite thing. Also the Merrill collection was selling Star Trek action figures and I got Locutus of Borg for $2.

Monday was not so amazing. Ripley does not like going back in the cat carrier for her trip to the vet. She understandably may have felt that due to her remarkably funky butt, we were taking her back to a room of cages to abandon. Particularly gut wrenching was the point at which we had to leave her with the vet, since I know it's likely a nightmare coming true for her. While she's under today he's going to check her out six ways from Sunday to make sure she's healthy and there's nothing else we should know. The good news so far: he believes he can get her infection under control so she's not Smelly Cat anymore (it's not her fault), she is not pregnant (not that kittens wouldn't have been great, but with recent vaccinations it would have messed up development), she's a she (all calico's are, apparently) and she's younger than the pound thought by about two years. So we practically have a kitten. A six kilo kitten who's on a diet, but a kitten none the less.