On missed connections, flaming kitties and such

All in all, the weekend was a bit of a disaster.

First, there was the aforementioned blog party on Friday night. My Saturday night was supposed to consist of dinner with Sean, an old friend who was in town, and then a party with Tatiana and Scott, my newly hitched and expecting friends from Delaware. Good times. That fell apart totally -- I ended up only spending a couple of hours with the happy couple and not seeing Sean at all, although I did develop quite an affection for Maker's Mark.

Sunday proved to be much better, at least at first. I don't often set an alarm or shower on Sundays, but I had a brunch date at Café Orlin with the WB. I even put makeup on, on a Sunday - that's huge. Red daisies and pumpkin pancakes are a fabulous way to start the day.

My decision to never have children was reinforced thrice this weekend. First, everyone at the party was patting Tatiana's stomach. I would be really, really pissed if I was pregnant and everyone was feeling me up all the time. Second, I had to have a sex talk with my 13-year-old brother. And lastly, my cat went up in flames last night.

John Brown jumped onto the coffee table, and within seconds walked into a candle and ignited. He has lots of long hair, and the whole right side of him just went up in flames. Luckily, the fire went out as quickly as it had begun, and JB sustained no injuries, but still. If I can't even keep two cats safe, I certainly can't be responsible for children.