I suspect I am going to officially become That Crazy Cat Lady after this... The interview went well; Max even allowed himself to be photographed, something that surprised the heck out of me. After posing for a few pictures he ran off and left me to fend for myself, where I discovered that I am not especially good at in-person interviews. Through e-mail, I rock. I can think about answers to questions, and I can edit. In person, I stutter, blank out, gesture with my hands far too much, and pretty much come off like a bumbling lunatic.
They were very nice, though. The reporter did not laugh at me, and the photographer laughed at passages he read out of one of Max's books. It was noted that this is a very cat-friendly house: the climbing towers, the baskets of toys, the scratching posts, and the way we lined up the bookcases so the cats can get up to the wall cutouts. And that's just what they could see. There's another climbing tower upstairs (a bigger one, even) and another cat bed, and there was no way I was admitting that I don't make my bed because that's the way the cats like it. I also was not admitting that the house of often cluttered with empty boxes, because the cats like to play in them.
They knew within 2 minutes of entering the house that I am owned by these cats; there was no reason to make it worse.
The actual article from today's interview should be in the paper on the 18th. The article from which this sprang forth--they picked up on Vacaville's blogging kitty from the newswire--has appeared in at least 4 papers that we know of, including one with a screen shot of Max's blog (before the Great Template Change of 2008.)
And yeah, I'm getting a weird little thrill out of this.
In other news, the Boy moved out yesterday BECAUSE HE DOESN'T LOVE US ANYMORE.
Ok, it could be because he's 25 and working and had a shot at renting a house with his friends. But you can bet I'll use Mommy Guilt when I can to inform him I know why he really moved... =sob=
(I get his closet!)
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