perfect name

I have finally been epiphanied, the kitty should be called Biscuit, which will be pronounced closer to pis-kit.  Isn’t it perfect!  It captures her personality accurately, but allows for some level of elegance.  Because now we can call her name without offended those with sensitive ears.

Speaking of which we really need to trim her nails, they are diggin into my lap.

licking wounds and dealing with scars

Last night as kinda the cap stone of what was a pretty good day, I had a rather cathartic session with the roommates about various dramas (mainly of the boy variety, but not all) from college and high school.  And I have to say, for me college was all the typical drama of middle school and high school wrapped up into 4 short years.  Much of what makes me what I am today (a weird combination of quiet reflecting and sarcastic entertainer), has been shaped by college.  Also, the areas of pain that I can’t seem to shake off have their roots there too.  When one compares the handful of rejections, complicated relationships and awkardness with the opposite sex that I have had, to, say, the rest of the world, they pale in comparison.  Of course most pain does seem shallow, seeing as pain rarely translates well from individual to individual, let alone on a global scale.  But yet, I think what makes those memories hard for me is the idea that I haven’t had the other side of romantic relationships, you know the part where two people are mutually attracted to each other and want to be together.  But I have in my own bizare way experienced rejection, cheating, the glow of cuddling, using, pity-dates, and those crazy nerves you get when you are trying to work up your nerve to talk to “the boy”.  Because as far as I have come in getting over various events in the past four years, I don’t think any of them will completely heal until I have something to write over them with.