Twelve Inches Tall

(November 14, 2002)

"OH MY GOD, are you okay?! I'm so sorry!"

"Yes, I closed my eye just in time."

"Are you sure? Let me see it..."

He's okay, still has two good eyes. But I may have to issue safety goggles and a liability waiver to anyone unsuspecting enough to end up in bed with me.

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"You know, I saw you at one point during Izzy's party?" Hub says, "And you were bleary and unfocused, but grinning, and I looked at Ron and said 'Oh boy. I know how THIS night is going to end.'"

"You did not. You did? I was? What was I doing."

"Laughing, talking to some people."

"That was when it was still fun."

Meaning, I hadn't puked or passed out yet. That came later. Actually, I never really lost consciousness. I just went completely numb and couldn't lift my head or mobilize any appendages as the world rotated sickeningly like a sadistic Imax carousel.

You know, in the post-Hedwig weeks, this Hedwig crowd keeps finding reasons to get together again. And you know what we do when we do? YOU know.

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"Your cat's about twenty-four inches long including the tail."

"Okay."

"Fifteen inches tall, sitting."

"Um...Hub?"

"About fifteen around the middle."

"Dude...?"

"Twelve inches tall if he's just standing."

"WILL YOU LEAVE THE CAT ALONE! Step AWAY from the measuring tape."