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2001-04-10 || 10:57pm || meowsy sings the blues || i somehow ended up here. with meow meow on my lap talking to me, asking me questions and looking up at me with those black marble-y eyes. she asks and asks and asks and gets frustrated that i don't answer in complete sentences. she jumps off and jumps on again, jumps off and nips at my ankles and weaves between my legs. i scrubbed out her water dish. cleaned her litter box. didn't tell when she jumped in after i had cleaned it and proceeded to accidentally piss all over the wall. that is our secret. like an old lady having an accident. and when she ceremoniously scratched at the litter and climbed out in front of me, anashamed, triumphant, i swear she was grinning. i will be cat-sitting through the weekend. cat-sitting for my own estranged cat, whom i love dearly in a very guilty desperate way, in someone else's house. i am promising her dance parties and lying on the couch while watching woody allen movies. manhattan over and over again. possibly chinese take-out. girl night is tentatively scheduled for sunday. at some point i will explain to her what is going on. that the heavy pauses between us, the awkward glances, come from this crazy guilt i feel for quietly removing her from my day to day life. oh. and she will assure me that she is happy, that she has been sleeping with a very nice boy with very warm feet who says her name over and over when they are in the room together. and i will ask her how she feels about moving with him to portland and she will nonchalantly put out her cigarette, begin to lick her paw, look out the window, and say she thinks it will be nice. she hopes there will be carpet and empty boxes. and lots of spiders. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |