It's an hour later and it smells bad.

You want to know what I think of "New Mexico?" See title above. That's what I think of New Mexico. And what kind of name is that for a state anyway? They really couldn't come up with anything more original than "New Mexico?"

Apparently it's an hour later here because of this human thing called "time zones." We were actually already in a different time zone when we went from California to Arizona, but because Arizona doesn't do something called "Daylight Saving Time," you add one hour but then take one away, so the time didn't actually change.

Humans are weird.

And the smells. Let me tell you about the smells. We drove through hours of them yesterday. I hear that human nostrils get "fatigued" and they become inured to scents after a while. Well, we cats aren't so lucky. Everywhere we went, a new smell wafted into the car. I'm glad I don't live on a farm. Not only does every animal have a unique odor, every animal's poop also carries a distinct bouquet. It is a neverending parade of stenchfulness.

Anyway. Our new mini-house is really just a single room plus a bathroom. Compared to this, the last place was the freakin' lap of luxury--we even had a fireplace there. But the bed here has a great feature: the fabric covering the frame on the bottom has several openings, so I can crawl inside and hang out there. It's like a little hammock. Great for napping. And HIDING. Lot of strange noises here, too.