Yesterday wasn't the best day. First of all, my beloved cat that I got for my 18th birthday, Isabelle, had to be put to sleep. She had been battling feline leukemia for a couple of years, and in the past 6 months or so it had gotten a lot worse. I got to tell her goodbye on my last visit to Murfreesboro. She was a wonderful cat, and will always be remembered. RIP, Isabelle!!

My mom has a rabbit "sanctuary" in our backyard--lots of rabbit cages that are usually filled with lots of rabbits. When she's working in the garden, she lets them hop around in a couple of pens that she's set up. She always comes up with very interesting--and random--names for them, such as Boomer, Gryffindor (shout out to HP!), Lakshmi and Nikhil (named during a sudden bout of Indophilia?), St. Charles and Plaquemine (parishes in Louisiana), Audrey, Louise, and countless others throughout the years, one of which, after spawning her first litter, proceeded to eat them all (but I don't think BB has to worry about that). St. Charles is an interesting case. For the longest time, we thought SHE was a HE (hence the name). She was the scariest/most vicious rabbit we've ever had--my mom has been attacked by her several times when filling her food bowl, and has the fang marks on her arm to prove it. I like to think it was because she suffered from an identity crisis for so long before we found out her true gender. If I ever had to feed the rabbits, I was seriously afraid to feed SC and would try to distract her with one hand while sneakily pulling out her food and water bowls with the other, lest I become yet another victim of this beastly bunny. I think she was spawned from the vicious rabbit of Monty Python fame. Despite all her savage tendencies, I think she had a good heart...she was just a little emo, is all. St. Charles passed away yesterday, too, and I know she is now frolicking in the heavens above with all our other rabbits of years past. 

Also, while clipping BB's fingernails, I accidentally cut his poor little finger. He was just napping peacefully, getting his manicure on (what a life!) when suddenly his little eyes popped open, his bottom lip stuck straight out, and he commenced wailing, the likes of which have only been equalled when receiving his shots. Of course, I started crying too (maybe more than he was). I felt so terrible! It was a traumatic 10-15 minutes in the Glancy household. We put an adult-sized (or, as I referred to it, "human-sized") band-aid  on his finger and he calmed down a little bit. Poor guy!! And poor maman. 

Girls, you know how, right after you get a haircut, you just want to go home and wash/style it yourself right away so you can see what it really looks like? The curiosity just kills you! Well, after washing and styling MY hair yesterday, I discovered that the dang stylist (she of the disparaging comment) cut an incredibly awkward-looking layer straight across the back of my head. Seriously? Was she getting back at me for not working or something? I did not ask for a diorama of the continental shelf on my skull, nor am I all too thrilled with its sudden and undeniable presence there. Oh well, I guess it doesn't really matter, since it wouldn't be a stretch to dub me Our Lady of the Perpetual Ponytail these days. I know, isn't that so "mom" of me? I never fail to entertain. 

On a side note, I think I have discovered the origin of Pikachu. Random, non?