The Horse Ran Away with My Apple

I think this is a case of mixed metaphors, but it makes for a hilarious title, so whatever. Normally one would say "Putting the cart before the horse" or "Upsetting my applecart." Well, what happens when the cart you put before the horse is full of apples? The horse runs away with your apple, of course!

I'm sorry I haven't been that active on here lately; I haven't even got a creative excuse (I went scuba diving with my boyfriend near St. Bart's and was attacked by a whale shark and have been recovering in a Swiss hospital). I have summer school, which I feared would both upset my applecart AND be a case of a cart before a horse, but it actually seems to be going well. Motivation is somewhat lacking, but I blame that on the languid heat of summer and my cat.

To play along with the random theme of mixed metaphors, I think I shall relate a cat story. Once upon a time there was a black witchy cat named Bella, who was obsessed with water. Having chosen a preferred human to harass, she then joined that human in the bathroom every morning in order to leave little brown kitty paw prints all over the (once-clean) tub. Miss Bella would wait, patiently or impatiently, for her human to emerge from the tub before jumping in herself. She also discovered that batting a toy duck around in the tub makes a GREAT noise, and is guaranteed to distract her human and allow her to escape into said human's bedroom.

This cat has not run away with a fiddle; she took my heart in her little black paws, but I was kind of prime for a theft of that sort. "The cat ran away with my heart" is more of a Hallmark card sentiment than a metaphor; she did run away with my St. Patrick's day necklace, and with the $2.00 bouncy ball I received for Christmas. 

My boyfriend has also run off with my heart, but he can't go very far without me (hehe) because I'm almost positive I've got his in return. (Yeah, we're cutesy. Deal with it.) He calls me a kitty, mostly because I am perpetually yawning and I sleep either all over the bed, or in a tiny little ball.

If my cat tries to eat everything I eat, and I am a kitty who adores fruit, maybe my mixed (pureed) metaphor should be "the cat ran away with my apple." I have lots of toy horses from my little-girl phase, but I don't have many cats. I collect toy dogs. I have eight so far, ranging in size from one that fits in the palm of my hand to one bigger than I am. But I digress. I am avoiding my Logic reading.

Oh, that's the call of the black witchy cat.

Ciao, peeps,
Wolfgrrl