his name is Pixel
Aug. 12th, 2004 02:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flamingswordThe kitten I am currently keeping from walking on the keyboard of this laptop is now done with his baby name. He has gone from the generically cartoony Panthro to Pixel, which is a Heinlein reference, and having both a sibilant and a trill it will be easier for him to recognize his own name, feline hearing being what it is.
I'm fighting something off. Gotta love those flu-like symptoms, aching, fogginess, lack of interest in food. It's like the best parts of depression, just without the actual being depressed.
Pixel is going to be a huge cat. He's three months old and twice the size of his sister, and almost three quarters the size of his mother, a three-year-old. I just hope he gets smarter, 'cause man he has an impulse-control problem. And he doesn't seem to be learning to leave the laptop alone, despite repeated grabbing-by-the-scruff-of-the-necks. He's almost too big to pick up that way.
I'm not sure what else I want to talk about tonight. I guess I just want to hum idly to myself and see if anyone comes and talks to me. I don't have the processing capability for much more than that turned on right now. I mostly want to listen, but if I go read someone's journal and listen to their life, I'll just want to get involved. But I don't want to get involved with any more new people yet. I'm still waiting to see how the last batch are going to go. Like cookies. I don't want to roll these out until the last batch come out of the oven. I don't do the fully committed thing easily. I'm a bit gun-shy still, where friendship is concerned. Maybe two and a half years is a bit much to feel spurned because I was less important than someones' pride. It's not like I'd never gotten left behind before, not even the first time I was left by a best friend. But it gets harder to go out on that limb every time.
And I know what a coward I'm being. At least now I can admit it.
I'm fighting something off. Gotta love those flu-like symptoms, aching, fogginess, lack of interest in food. It's like the best parts of depression, just without the actual being depressed.
Pixel is going to be a huge cat. He's three months old and twice the size of his sister, and almost three quarters the size of his mother, a three-year-old. I just hope he gets smarter, 'cause man he has an impulse-control problem. And he doesn't seem to be learning to leave the laptop alone, despite repeated grabbing-by-the-scruff-of-the-necks. He's almost too big to pick up that way.
I'm not sure what else I want to talk about tonight. I guess I just want to hum idly to myself and see if anyone comes and talks to me. I don't have the processing capability for much more than that turned on right now. I mostly want to listen, but if I go read someone's journal and listen to their life, I'll just want to get involved. But I don't want to get involved with any more new people yet. I'm still waiting to see how the last batch are going to go. Like cookies. I don't want to roll these out until the last batch come out of the oven. I don't do the fully committed thing easily. I'm a bit gun-shy still, where friendship is concerned. Maybe two and a half years is a bit much to feel spurned because I was less important than someones' pride. It's not like I'd never gotten left behind before, not even the first time I was left by a best friend. But it gets harder to go out on that limb every time.
And I know what a coward I'm being. At least now I can admit it.
