Out too late

Today seems like it should be some important day in history, but I can't remember what it is. It'll come to me... sometime in October. Some obscure birthday or historical occasion or something. Damn if I can remember now.

Suzanne will be down here tomorrow in the late afternoon... I am actually still out, having just gotten done DJing. I need to go home and clean catboxes, vacuum the bedroom and do a little laundry, mostly involving sheets and pillowcases, though I really should also figure out where all my underwear went. I think all the good stuff is up in New Jersey at Suzanne's... yes, I have a drawer in her dresser. I have the bikes, she has my underwear, a scanner, an HDTV tuner and a bunch of instruments. She's slowly getting reacquainted with clarinet courtesy my venerable old Buffet R13 (for those of you who know such things, this is an old-works R13, built in 1971). And my flute, though she is not a flutist. Some days, I'm not, either.

I heard briefly from Penny last night. Just a brief note, but she's doing OK in most ways. That's good. She was a good lady, and I think she'd like Suzanne, but the odds of them ever meeting are not particularly good as long as her new-ish husband retains his insecurities about her male friends. Oh, well.

Gina spent the entire night in the bedroom last night. She's a very... insistent kitten, always patrolling the bed and slamming into my head when I'm trying to see the television or my hands when I'm trying to type. Marnie and Boris were better-behaved in the room, knowing when to leave me alone to work. Even Bert is generally good, but he's shedding so heroically that I can't have him in the room, lest I wake up looking like a teenage werewolf. I am serious.

I do still miss Marnie. And Boris. And Tess. And Mao. And Harry. And Data. And everyone else I've lost.