I called it The Official Fabric Pattern of New York City until I googled it and discovered that it is so much more. This is the perfect example of something that I absolutely dislike until the number of times I encounter it reaches a certain threshold and then, uncontrollably, I'm completely enamored with it. Like Toby Keith. And the color pink.

Okay, anyone who knows me knows the addiction that I deal with on a daily basis: CourtTV. It's not something I'm proud of nor is it something that is spoken of often. When we moved to The House Without Cable, I went through an ugly withdrawal that was soon appeased when I discovered a new way to get my fix: courttv.com. And this method is even better because I get to CHOOSE which sordid details I want to read about. Or listen to or watch, because of course I am an exclusive member with exclusive benefits. Ha! I'm my own dealer now!

My recent obsession with the Scott Peterson trial has, understandably, fueled the CourtTV addiction exponentially. I'll just come right out with it: In the last few weeks, I have spent the equivalent of 17% of my time thus far on earth reading the Amber Frey phone transcripts. (Rob will say that's not mathematically possible, but I'm sticking to 17%.) Add in the court transcripts and CourtTV reporters' blog, and we're easily at 21%, people. I think I'm as addicted to these transcripts as I was to Full House episodes as a kid, and that is a scary, scary thing.

Saturday I was cleaning out the litter box and Maylee jumped in and started to use it. I ran from the garage to get the camera, screaming "Maylee’s using the litter box!!!" the whole way. By the time I grabbed the camera inside the house and ran back out, she had just stepped out of the box. So I missed the action shot, but I definitely got a shot of her accomplishment, which I'll spare you. I was so proud of her I almost cried. Seriously.

Below is proof that both of my darlings are now litter-trained and ready to move inside the house. (Okay, Maylee is chasing a spider in the box and not actually using it for its stated purpose, but she had just gone and so is thus excused).

Synchronized litter-boxing!

Simon just peed on the floor.

Still no progress with Maylee. I've researched this whole litter thing, and I've read several places that if a kitten is going right next to the litter box, she WANTS to be using the litter box but has found something wrong with it (not clean enough, doesn't like the litter, etc.). Cinderella couldn’t keep those litter boxes any cleaner than I’m keeping them, so I decided to buy a different litter, as an experiment. I went to the pet store today in search for some super-soft velvet-textured litter for Princess and the Pea-type kittens.

The only “alternative” litter they had was recycled-paper pellet litter for environment-conscious hippie cats. It’s scent-free and claims to be soft, so maybe it will do the trick. I’ve already put the new litter in a third box between the other two, so that there is now a frickin' buffet of litter box choices.

Of the seven kittens, all are using the litter box but one. The one that isn’t using the box would of course be Maylee, one of OURS. Seriously, what is that about? I give and give and give to these creatures, gladly and joyfully, and all I ask in return is that they show a little respect by taking a shit in the proper place.

For 6/7ths of them this is not too much to ask. But Maylee is still refusing to use either litter box in the garage, despite the fact that I am keeping them clean in true OCD style and am plopping her in them on a regular basis. She hops right out every time, not even bothering to sniff around or make a polite pretense of interest. She had actually made it all of last evening and overnight without going on the floor, and I had foolishly thought maybe my worrying over this issue had somehow impacted her. However, I checked on the kittens right before leaving this morning and there was her calling card, smack between the two boxes in all its glory. BETWEEN the two boxes, mere inches away from either box. She’s doing this to spite me, I know it. My mom says, with a touch of pity but mostly amusement, "Aw, she's just SLOW."

Here you can see the mark of Maylee's blatant defiance. In the litter box is Hunter Norman, one of the good ones:

But in some sick way, I absolutely love Maylee for being a complete pain in the ass. This may change when she is a pain in the ass all over my hardwood floors, though. What I need is a kitty nanny who’ll follow her every move so that everytime she starts to crouch, she is magically airlifted into the litter box until eventually her own predilection is to head there.

Homes have been found for all kittens and Buttermilk! We’re keeping Maylee and Simon, although Rob doesn’t know about Simon yet. I’ve convinced Rob that we should bring Simon into the house “just until we find a home for him.” And once Simon is in, he's IN. Rob won't kick him out, so we'll just continue to keep him on a "temporary" basis.

Last time at the vet, Dr. Kitti (yes that's actually her name) told me about a flea pill safe for kittens that kills all the fleas on the cat and is effective for 24 hrs. I decided this would be a good thing to administer right before a kitten leaves us so that said kitten doesn’t spread unwanted fleas to its new home, thus earning it a place right back in our garage. The kittens start leaving the nest next week, so I called the vet to get some pills. But they only have 2 on hand. And I have 7 kittens. So they called around to all the other vets in town, and then called me back at work to report that these pills are universally on backorder and the karma I earned from caring for these kittens was apparently short-lived.

My office mate is overhearing my end of this phone conversation with the vet, which consists of "How many pills were you able to get?" and "Did you check with Ashby?" and "I must have 3 by Monday" and "Call me as soon as you've got more" and "I'll be there at 4:15 to pick them up." So now I’m the token office drug dealer, when actually I'm just a really good person who wants some damn flea pills that seem to only be available on the black market.

Hmmm, the black market…