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2011-04-05 - 1:33 p.m.

"...You are not cast in an heroic mould; your courage will not avail to sustain you in solitude; it merely gives you the temerity to gaze with sang-froid at pictures of Cleopatra."

"if you're like this over a missing cat, what are you going to be like as a parent?"

her tone of voice left no room for doubt - she was so disdainfully sure i'll be a perpetual orogeny of sad little drama.

if it makes her feel better to believe that - well, she can believe that. it has so very little to do with me.

but no matter what i try to do, my thoughts turn toward my missing orange kitty. we haven't seen him since last week.

i hope he comes back.

* * *

reading: the ice trilogy, by vladimir sorokin.
listening to: nada surf's cover of me and my arrow.
working on: knitting a sweater, looking for my lost cat.
in the garden: my cheddar pinks are blooming. they're called pinks because they're pinked, nothing to do with their color.

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