I'm not sure where all my friends got the impression that I'm OK with being alone all the time. It's extremely untrue. Especially right now.

I'm not strong right now. I'm not happy right now. I'm not feeling like being alone is a good thing for me right now. And yes, I know that I'm not really alone - I have my niece and her husband and her son, and they do wonderful things to help me. And I appreciate every single bit of it. And there's that whole Universe thing out there.

That's not what I mean. I don't know if I can really express what I mean. I just feel like I've been forgotten by people who used to be such a big part of my life. I don't expect everyone in my world to put me at the top of their list - I don't even expect my closest friend to put me at the top of her list - or anywhere on it if they don't want to. But I would think that someone who used to say I was like a sister would make a little effort when it's clear that I really want some face time before that option is gone. So maybe I'm not so much like a sister anymore.

Just so everyone knows, I am not the loner people seem to think I am. I love people and I need my friends to remember me, even if they can't get out to see me. Just a few words. "Hey, I'm thinking about you." They mean so much.

Music Day

So, I put on my headphones and turned on the iPod feature of my iPhone. I usually use this to help me sleep by playing Merlin's Magic, but today I decided to rock out a bit. I'm in my room withh the door closed, but the volume is all the way up as I sing along full voice with songs like Zombie, What's Up, Jagged Little Pill, Wasted Time - pretty much anything that requires belting at the top of your lungs and head banging during interludes.

Head banging is sitll a little bit of a problem with the vertigo, but I am so stoked on belting that I just hope Nixon and the TV are making enough noise to cover me up so January and Giles don't come in and laugh at me.

I do love to sing. :-P

If you don't have any money, don't go out to eat. I think that's a pretty simple concept. Apparently it does not apply to others, just to me.

Paws.

Soft padding, pointy claws, now only stubs.

Making biscuits in blankets, on my tummy.

Purring, soft and low; gentle murmurs.

I remember your seal whiskers, and a face of black on black on black.

Peering out from dark corners.

I remember your pink nose in a face of black and white.

Eager to walk in the light.

At night, in dreams, you are the kittens that used to fight in my lap.

Midnight steam roller and grey puffball. Power and elegance.

Binks and Mr. Bond. My boys. My babies. My missing ones.