the big cat and i have developed a tight little routine to get me to the office in the morning. when i limp to the bathroom he's already perched on the sink, cued with my alarm clock to play pat-a-cake through the shower curtain. when i open the door from the porch to the kitchen, i can hear his nails at the ladder on the other side: when i cross the threshold, he's at eye level, ready to straighten my hair. after i reset the alarm, he's in position on the coffee table for his last scritch. smart beast.
pretended i was rich today, picked up luna's romantica AND rasputina's cabin fever. j. notes that "rememories", from the former, sounds a lot like van halen; i can't stop tittering over rasputina's "pj + vincent & matthew + bjork". music pleases.
i am an active girl this week, as i am trying to avoid finishing mating in a single sitting. more on it soon, but sweet merciful crap is it ever good.
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