Happy New Year! Special Treat: My Mom Is Staying With Us

Unfortunately, I can't tell you the most traumatic things that have already happened because lives would be destroyed (mine). It involves saliva in the salsa jar, among other things.

The real question is, what will the year 5775 bring? We're all moving soon, and luckily, in different directions. My mom's cat is here, too and my dream of having my own reality t.v. show called Pussy Wars feels like it could finally come to fruition. Cats like to fight. I'd like to turn my living room into a battle dome and get them all hopped up on cat nip while laser pointers shoot red dots all over the floor. Whenever a new cat enters the dome, I'd play that sound from The Highlander when the immortal senses another immortal nearby.

My husband is already living in Philly and pulled a no-show on my hard-won appointment with Comcast yesterday. He's "busy." He's "working." He has a "job." Pffft. Truffles and I spent the weekend with him and one of the toughest adjustments for her is the lack of greenspace in Philly. For her, this translates to nowhere to poop. We walk her around a four foot patch of grass and try to think of helpful things to say to coax turds out of her.

I'm heading to San Francisco tomorrow for a few days to celebrate the release of my friend's book The Edge Of Normal. I've never been to San Fran, but my dad had a heart attack there once, so it must be cool. Also, I highly recommend the book - it's a fabulous thriller that she loosely describes as Clarice Starr meets Elizabeth Smart.

The trip was planned before the "moving to Philly" bombshell, so I still haven't really packed anything. I've thought about it a lot, though. I've looked at stuff and imagined it in a box. I've also thought about burning my apartment to the ground and starting fresh, but other people live here and that's frowned upon. Plus, I'm too busy visiting everyone I love to say goodbye and talk about how much packing I have on my hands.