This week is once again about my cat.
Remember when you were in seventh grade and you carried that purple rabbit foot key chain on the bottom strap of your backpack. And you thought you had all the luck in the world; you practically bathed in fortune cookies and your horoscopes were always aligned in the stars. Then, a women in your memoir class writes a piece about stunning rabbits with her fist, skinning each alive and slipping the fur off like pajamas. Rabbit feet are not cool anymore, but my cat has no choice but to be part rabbit, part beast.
One of my goals for this year was to actually create things that I find on pinterest instead of just planning my make-believe life. Pinterest recipe trial #1: Mexican Pizza.
March 1st: Spring had already come, and drooped. Petals in puddles on my run.
On Wednesday, my dad and boy had an epic battle over steak sizes, over text messages. Let me rephrase that, on Wednesday, I was sent back to the time of the cave. This is the picture that came of it.
It was the last “Cooking with Cass” this week at the teen center. We made nachos. Of course when I say “No Guns” in pictures, boys get their finger ammunition ready.
Once I tried to pee behind a bush back here and out of nowhere appeared a snake. Don’t worry, I didn’t have a chance to show it any moons.
My dad has announced I’m officially an adult because I can go into Auto Zone by myself for my oil change supplies. Now if I could just perform that oil change.