My darling, beautiful cat king – king of the beasts and of my heart – took his last breath this afternoon, with no warning other than his gathered heap of gorgeous years. I got home yesterday evening from a few days away and he greeted me with a lazy squawk from his bed by the radiator, then relaxed in my arms as I grabbed him, plucking him from the floor as I do hundreds of times per day, him lolling and heavy breathing (the lazy way to purr), waiting for gravity to take its toll and for his stunning lump of a body to be too much; content with the up-down ride of daily love – my ears only popped this morning after yesterday’s flight; I wonder if his ever did, being so repeatedly picked up and put down.
Some say it’s silly to feel so heartbroken over the loss of a pet, but I will never say it is. Some say love for animals is not as real as love for people, but they don’t know how many memories and thoughts and moments he had buried deep into his fur, since my teenage years; how much he has been a store for everything. Continue reading
It is all I want; drawers of varying sizes
which slide out and in again; a place to put
my little notes (my fears, my dreams, the things
which amuse me throughout a day).
A sort of posting device; quiet acceptance.
This is not a euphemism.
(I once read that one clear symptom of being British is that it is impossible to intone the word ‘great’ without sounding sarcastic. ‘Great’ is a word most naturally reserved for sarcastic occasion. Ever since, in cross-cultural exchanges, and due to this absolute truth, I have performed a small inward giggle and self-enquiry whenever I allow the word to flutter free from my voice, which isn’t often (but the word is usefully efficient and gleefully positive, so it does get out now and then in emails, etc.); and also, unlike most of the people who self-describe their category of humour on dating sites, I don’t think sarcasm is a particuarly inspiring humble-brag, so I usually err on the side of the gentle, far more British and authentic ‘quite good’ or ‘quite nice’. Therefore, please take my use of ‘great’ in the above title as evidence of my uncertain and unstable opinion on the subject of today’s pondering.) Continue reading
This is a long one… I could probably write at least nine books on the subject of online dating. Maybe one day I will*.
I even manage not to be embarrassed about the fact that I am so experienced in these matters, since anyone who’s anyone (who’s single) has given the world of online romantification a go at one point or another (this is a phrase I hope might catch on), and the fact that I am the world’s most picky, yet naively hopeful, writerly-hermit (with far too many projects and evening engagements for that to even work as a ‘thing’), usually either working from home or in some foreign exotic land (it’s a bit black and white, isn’t it?) means I have become over the months-which-turn-into-years deeply, deeply wise about all things online dating. I’m basically a connaisseur. Or connaisseuse. Or guru. Continue reading