Mai Yamani


There's a gorgeous stripey orange cat stalking its prey through our backyard. I've seen it a couple of times in the last week now. I wonder how long it would take my brother to kill me if I tried to adopt it. (Asthma; allergic to cats; already sniffling and wheezing and bitching that I don't understand his pain because, most of the time, I manage to breathe or perform a respectable imitation thereof. Sigh.)

I have now been awake for, like, four hours. I woke up at 4:30 this morning and could not fall asleep again so I got up and wrote some more of Boys Who Wear Glasses instead. (Which, like, what was I thinking? I sucked at writing questions when I was playing scholar bowl. I suck at writing questions now. If I were smart, I would have skipped directly to the making out. On the plus side, however, Wikipedia was invented in the meantime, and it is pretty much ideally suited for seeking question fodder.) It's like some kind of strange inverted insomnia.

EDIT: Oh, how I love dorking about things like Japanese honorifics. Before I discovered shipping and hormones, my primary fannish mode was dorkery. I hope we still have the extensively cross-referenced compilation of all the songs that appear in the Laura Ingalls Wilder books that I made when I was seven somewhere in a box or something.
  • Current Mood: awake awake
Summer == allergy season, therefore Meghan == dead. If Danny didn't die first from asthma attack.

Harry doesn't know that he's supposed to be a prey animal. I suspect he would try to boss the cat around. Which might actually work, owing to the whole grooming thing. (With cats, the animal doing the grooming is the dominant one. With rabbits, it's the one lying down demanding to be groomed.) However, if this cat is actually living off stuff it's hunting, it would probably be more intimidating than your average housecat.