That's because I'm trying to scrap the templates and design my own page. But geez. It's not so easy. No, buddy. It's been ages since I've dabbled in this lovely HTML thing, and I'm rusty.

OK, now for the goods. Neal is back in town, and that is a very good thing. We had champagne, and I even watched Pitch Black with no bad dreams. (Side note: In the world of film, Neal likes nothing more than a character who is a "bad mothafucka." There was a character in Pitch Black who was the baddest mothafucka around, so Neal was a happy mothafucka.)

But I have a confession to make.

I was mean to Little Miss Budina ("The Famous Toilet-Peeing Cat") while Neal was away.

Now, not on purpose. Put down those phones and stop dialing the Humane Society Hotline.

I could tell she missed Neal, The Bringer Of Food. And she was just acting weird in general. So I'm getting ready for bed. I try to let her out, and she won't go, so I figure she's couching it for the night.

As I'm walking to bed, she moved directly in front of my foot, and I accidentally kick her right in the back of the head. HARD. It hurt my foot.

And she makes this little noise and then sprints to the back door, really, really, really wanting to be let out.

OH, THE GUILT.

You have no idea.

And now I'm running after her, cooing and singing and apologizing, and she wants none of it. She's just crouched by the door, making these pathetic noises and flinching from my hands. I wanted to pick her up, but my allergies wouldn't let me. I had to just put her outside and hope I didn't break any of her little kitty bones.

Oh, God, you guys. I felt so horrible.

And all last night, she was in Neal's arms, giving me the hairy eyeball. Neal couldn't hear her, but she was gloating.

Budina: "Ha ha, bitch. Kick me like that. Look at the way I monopolize your boyfriend's arms. Are his arms around you? No. They are around me. Why? Because you are a cat-kicking asshole, that is why."

Me: "Little Miss Budina hates me!"

Neal: "No, she doesn't! She loves you!"

Budina (as Neal strokes her head): "He is wrong, you are right, Toes-of-steel. I DO hate you. And you will pay."

Me: "Neal, look at the her eyes. The cat is openly hating me."

Neal: "Don't be silly. You took care of her for 3 days. She can't hate you."

Budina: "Wrong again! I hate. I loathe. You'll rue the day Miss Budina decides to extract her revenge, Kitty McKicky. I am NOT a soccer ball! Or a football balanced on a tee for the extra point! I am a cuddly, adorable, potty-trained cat. We shall see who is kicked next, bitch."

So I gave up after that. Neal couldn't hear her.

I'm totally watching my back now.