Introduction/Kitty Identity Crisis

        So I've decided to try this blogging thing, and I guess we'll see how it goes.  I hope I end up having some interesting things to say, and that at least a few people enjoy reading it.  I'm not exactly sure what my focus will be - I've been trying really hard to narrow the scope of the things I want to write about, but I think I've finally accepted that my mind just doesn't work that way. It's kind of like a hurricane in there.  I could no sooner decide what I might want to write about a month from now than tell you what my kitten's name will be tomorrow.  That's the newest drama in my life - as you will see, it consists of a series of mini dramas, (I tell people all the time that my life should be a sitcom) - the identity crisis of my kitten.
        So my boyfriend's dad has a cat in the barn in our backyard, which ended up having four kittens a little over two months ago.  Since then, my days have been consumed by kittens - feeding them, changing their litter, playing with them, taking pictures and videos of them, etc.  I chose the one I wanted to keep right away, and I thought that it was a girl and the other three were boys.  Now, I'm no vet, obviously, but I didn't think it was rocket-science telling a boy cat from a girl, so I didn't give it any more thought.  We named her Sasha, and had been calling her that for the past month or so.
        I brought her inside right when she turned 8 weeks, even though the others are still back in the barn, because it had been the longest two months of my life and I just couldn't wait any longer.  So a few days ago at dinner, Lee's dad, (Lee's my boyfriend)  says "Shannon, I heard you calling that cat Sasha - you know that it's a boy, right?" and I told him that I thought it was a girl, but that I guessed I wasn't positive.  So after dinner, I did what I should have done to begin with, and consulted google.   I found a youtube video in which a real vet showed how to tell, and my kitten is indeed male.  Great.  I mean, I don't care, he's still the coolest of all the kittens, but now we have to rename him.  Lee says we should should just keep calling him Sasha, but like Sacha Baron Cohen - but it was confusing me and I kept thinking of him as a girl.  We called him Samson for one whole day, but I decided I hated it.  We tried Calvin for a few hours, but we have finally settled on Sal Paradise - the protagonist from Jack Kerouac's On The Road.  It suits him - he has a certain dreaminess in his eye and a wannabe philosophical air.  Let's hope that he doesn't hook up with some tom suffering from a borderline personality disorder and desert me to tour the country popping bennies and blasting jazz along the way.  I don't have the kind of money to support those kinds of habits, or I might be doing something similar myself.  So anyway, his name is Sal, for now.