Sunday, 11 January 2015

Can't Hug Every Cat

Well folks, it’s happened.

I’ve graduated. I’m finally a lesbian.

I have passed with flying colours, but no gold star.

I have a cat.

After 3 years in total with R, we finally bit the bullet and searched high and low for a furry bundle of fun. And after a couple of false starts and one mean, lying welsh woman, we found the sleepy, snoring lump of cuteness that is currently dozing in my lap.

He’s adorable.

And with him in my life, my stereotypical lesbian persona is complete.

I have short hair.
I moved in with R after 3 months
I’m terrified of penises
98% of my friends are gay
I often choose a quiet night in with R than go out with friends
I’m pretty sure I can perfectly recite the entire season 1 of The L Word from memory

And now, now I have a cat.

The transformation is complete.

Gone are the days when I would laugh at people who baby talked and cooed to their pets and felt the need to show me that the entire memory of their phones was filled with pictures of their adored sleeping animal.

Now I am one of them.

I have joined the droves of teachers nattering about their darling children during break time and I am ashamed to admit just how many photos and videos I have taken of him so far.

Let’s be honest, I only wrote this post so I could brag about him some more.

Look at his little face!

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