We have three kittens, as I’ve mentioned here before.
Beth and Zoe gave them all cute names that are vaguely thematic in nature, but perhaps bestowed these names a little too soon. (I wanted to name one of them “Knuckles,” but I was outvoted.)
The white one is Nina, because Beth originally wanted to name the three kittens Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria. She was apparently on a big Christopher Columbus kick at that exact moment in time. Why, we don’t know. Or care, really. We gave her Nina, but the other two names stayed in drydock.
The black and gray ones got cartoon-themed, Zoe-bestowed names: Cosmo and Wanda, of The Fairly OddParents cartoon. The black one is Wanda, the gray one is Cosmo.
Cute names all, I guess, but a little bit gender confused. Nina is okay because Nina is a girl. But Wanda? A boy. And Cosmo? Girl. That’s what happens when you name kittens before you’ve checked their packages. And we didn’t get around to checking the packages until the names had sunk in, so now it would feel weird to call Wanda Cosmo and Cosmo Wanda. So the names are staying and Wanda and Cosmo will just have a lifetime of neuroses and psychiatric bills to look forward to.
And yet… Beth has decided one kitten’s name must change. Nina, the only kitten with a name that doesn’t need to change, well, Beth thinks it must change. According to Beth, Nina must now be known as Princess Fluffy Cuteness. (“PFC for short!”)
I got yer Princess Fluffy Cuteness right here. Dangling.
Damn, but I’m organized. Or… maybe not. As I was poised to begin writing this entry, thinking that I would start with “…and of course we saw fireworks,” I had a vague memory that maybe I had planned for this year last year. So I searched my own stupid blog for the word “fireworks” and found this. Reading the last line there, you’ll see that I know myself very, very well. Ha.
Anyway… So I obviously didn’t let last year’s fireworks advice get in my way this year. This time around we again viewed the Radford Studio show but from a different location — we went with Zoe’s friend Katie’s family and set up camp at the east end of Moorpark Park, which was the perfect spot. Great view, nice setting, not too crowded, etc. And if you’re a lazy bastard like me and let Beth and Zoe go in the car to stake out a spot ahead of you and then you show up an hour later on the motorcycle and park where ever you want because traffic and parking isn’t a hassle on a motorcycle, then it makes it that much better. For you, at least.
So as a note for myself next year: do it that way again. If, you know, you read this. Beforehand.
We also went to a barbeque at the home of the owner of my local dive ship. There were a lot of people there, many I knew from diving already. And they had scuba gear there too, so the instructors and divemasters in attendance were giving sample dives to everyone who wanted them. Zoe and Beth wanted them.
Zoe kept coming back for more — she suited up and bubbled her way around the pool four times and would have kept going if they hadn’t almost literally peeled the tank off her. Beth went around twice too and pronounced it “fun.” I think pretty soon now we’ll be a scuba diving family … which will not be cheap.
I need to find some more frugal hobbies.
