Cat Nipped

Glancing at the sauce ring on my plate, I thought I knew what happened. I'd excused myself to the bathroom and by my return my steak had disappeared. Skip's smile seemed a little more smiley—he’d theifed it.

"You stole my steak!" I exclaimed.

"No I didn't," he answered.

"Then where is it? I didn't eat it, and it no longer sits on my plate," I said. Not that I really minded, but I did find it funny that he'd take it. On the last night of our over-the-top honeymoon, our hotel treated us to a four-course dinner. They tried their best to smooze and delight us. We got stares from other guests trying to figure out who we were. We were the representatives of a luxury magazine.

Skip managed to work magic and get us a penthouse suite, dinners at the top restaurants on the island, spa treatments and a scuba diving tour. So while we honeymooned he worked a little, which translates to people falling all over themselves so we'd be pleased.

Unfortunately the steaks failed every time. Skip ordered off the menu one night and got an over cooked slab. Now at our fancy special dinner my steak had been swiped, and not by the obvious suspect.

"I saw a flicker of movement while you were gone," he mentioned.

"A flicker of movement? As in a ghost? Voo-DOOO?" I smirked. He really thought I'd fall for something so lame?

I was about to reply with more sassy, smart-mouthed retorts when I saw the sauce trail. It jumped from the perfect circle on my plate to drips along the low courtyard wall. Leaning over I saw a grey cat. The third I'd seen that night, a brown cat had been sneaking around earlier and a black cat meowed at my every meal. GRRRR...I squinted at it chomping away on the last quarter of my filet mignon.

Luckily we'd just watched a vampire movie where the cats attacked people who'd been bitten. Picture 20 cats hissing and biting and licking a standing woman. Or the old Batman, where Michelle Pfeiffer falls out the window and the cats revive her. It was creepy like that, that rangy grey cat giving me the evil eye while it finished my dinner.

The managers were beside themselves, explaining that they carted off cats every week and more just showed up. I guess that means their vampires are under control.

Storybook Endings

Ahhh love, and marriage, and goodbyes. Along with the rush to the altar was the rush to make some important life decisions involving a possible cross-country move and a semi-permanent full-time job. (Those of you who know my job history can whoop and hollar. The rest of you: my jobs have been plentiful, I was laid off twice within two months and at one point divided my 90 hour work week between five jobs.)

As it stands we're making the move and I've committed to the almost full-time status for the next four to eight weeks. In doing so I ended two with two of my clients this week and ended my Disney Fairytale Princess titles.

You may remember my 15 minutes as Snow White which still invokes giggles. What cemented my Disney fate was my wedding dress. Many dress shops opened their doors to my frantic pleas. Many shopkeepers and sales ladies insisted that each new dress fit better, looked better and brought a light to my face. And I believed them all, also believing that my new career would be wedding dress model. Until one lady told me that the best part about my dream dress (the only dress I purchased) was the way it cinched my waist, you know so I wouldn't look fat.

"I've seen many girls skinnier than Breanna."

Ouch. Still hurts.

All that needed to be done were some simple alterations. A tuck at the waist (even my fuller figure needed a smaller size) and some sleeves added. The sleeves I constructed looked great and also like something from the closets of Belle, Jasmine, Cinderella or Auroa. DISNEY it screamed while I bit my lip and decided if ever I should feel like a princess my wedding would be it.

Four days later I showed up to work and instantly had to recap the event with my client, a ten-year-old boy. His mom stressed my beauty and the ceremony, the significance of a husband and wife. The boy? His face lit up as he called me Tinkerbell.

I'm just saying that if we miss the road to Peoria I might zip down to Disney World for auditions.