I don't call her BRE for nuthin'.

The Best Roommate Ever has gone out of town to visit her family, and the kitties are sad and mommy-less. One set of hands is not enough for all the petting and feeding they require. Fortunately, Alex and I seem to have reached an understanding in the last few months that I am not going to eat him, and when I reach for him, it is to PET him, not to beat him with sticks. Now, he was a rescue kitty, but he was rescued as a baby, five years ago, by the Best Roommate Ever, who has done nothing but spoil him and love on him for almost the entirity of his life. He seems a lot more accepting of me than he was last time BRE went on vacation; he even slept with me the last few nights.

BRE will be coming back into town the day after my birthday, and apparently she felt bad about missing my big day. Before she left she hid plastic easter eggs filled with dark chocolate in ransom locations all through the apartment (seriously random places. Like in my box of granola bars and in the drawer with the measuring cups and in my bottle of vitamins.) so I've been having a little easter egg hunt for the last week. I was so touched and charmed by her thoughtfulness. I told my mom, "I haven't cried yet, but I might still." This is absolutely the sweetest, most thoughtful, wackiest thing anyone has ever done for me. I mean seriously.

Even more deviously, she also got me a book (A Treasury of Magical Knitting by Cat Bordhi) for my birthday, but she put it on the shelf with all my other knitting books.

I was looking though my books the other day, and noticed . . . wait a second. Was that always . . . ? Did I . . . ? I don't remember buying . . . Where . . . ? How . . . ? Huh? It took about ten minutes of total confusion to figure it out.

Best. Roommate. EVER.