(no subject)

When we lived in Northampton, we had a small window in the basement, slightly above Light's head. Funnyface was convinced that she could get into it if she just jumped hard enough, and would dedicate herself to jumping and scrabbling down the wall.

She had a noise she made when she changed altitude, jumping up or down. As much as she liked up, she wasn't a huge fan of down, and would occasionally demand that I get her down from wherever she had gotten up to, even though we both knew she could get down just fine on her own.

My roommate and I had a party, and we left a bowl of M&Ms on the coffee table (which was actually just an ironing board), and came home, and she had methodically flicked the contents the entire bowl around the living room.

We had a washing machine malfunction once, and I was home alone when the repairman came, and he went down into the basement, and I heard him talking, and was a little anxious (I couldn't hear what he was saying). After the repair, he comes up from the basement with Funnyface riding on his shoulder, and I was charmed past belief.

Back in the days of desktops, she was fascinated by a screen saver of falling leaves, and would jump up on the desk to pat at them, jiggle the mouse, the screensaver would turn off and she would turn and yell at me. I'd often go turn the screensaver back on for her.

She had a cupboard in our kitchen that she could open by pawing at it, and she would occasionally retreat into it, hang out with all our unloved kitchen appliances, and then let herself out.

I am afraid the stories and the memories will slip through my fingers. It seems like a gift that I don't remember a lot of what happened before the age of 25, but I don't want to lose any more of her than the normal easing of grief requires.

(no subject)

So, Light and I went and got tattoos today. The artist was competent and quick, but I didn't adore him.

We went to Hands and Hips last night, which was the first socializing I'd done since Tuesday. Hands made amazing veggie shepherd's pie, Hips picked me up an awesome cake, and I made an awesome cake, and their dogs loved on me, and it was generally a good evening, and I even managed to talk about Funnyface without crying.

I keep poking at etsy looking at cat urns, and then being slightly weirded out by them. There's a startling amount of people in the world who will turn your pet's remains (I refuse to say cremains, except for saying I refuse to say it) into various types of jewelry.

We went to the American Textile History Museum in Lowell and it was startlingly thorough and interesting. My favorite exhibits were either the discovery video about carbon fiber cellos, or the history of the space suit. Playing with the loom was also pretty cool.

I'm tired, scattered, glad I'm not at Arisia, and I still want to try to eat or spend the sad away. Tomorrow, I'm hoping to clean all the things, but tonight I'm frittering away on online jigsaw puzzles and similarly engaged-but-not-thinking activities.