Disaster has struck.
My boyfriend (or my gentleman pal as I like to call him) is highly allergic to cats it turns out.
William from downstairs informed me of this yesterday evening as I was telling him about how when I moved apartments in the next few months I hoped that I could move in my cat Emma that my parents have been watching for me.
"Well you know Elliot can never come to your apartment then?" says William
"What am I supposed to do about this?" I ask
"Just don't bother with the cat" says William from downstairs.
What is wrong with William from downstairs? I really don't see how his mind works.

If it comes down to being between gentleman pal and the cat, the cat will win.

After all I had her first.

And she will watch reality tv with me.

Twenty-Three

In 40 minutes I will be twenty three. Though if we're to be exact in 7 hours and 44 minutes I will be 23, as that's the time I was born.
On the eve of turning twenty three I don't feel a lot of excitement, or joy at the prospect. What is there to twenty three? I can already drink, I can't yet rent a car.
My Grandmother, my mother and my older sister all got married at the age of twenty three, and as I have no biological aunts or great aunts on my mother's side this means that every woman on my maternal side has gotten married at the age of twenty three for the last three generations. And though I have recently been on several lovely dates with a man who is actually taller than me and whose main flaw right now seems only to be that he thinks Law and Order SVU is the least good of the Law and Orders, I don't think marriage is in the cards for me any time soon. On top of which, what would I do with a husband?
So what do you do when you're twenty three if not get married? If you don't have a husband you need another plan. And right now I don't have very many of those.

Except for I do know I am buying a dog this summer.
So in place of a husband we'll have a dog.
And I'll figure it out from there.