I’m starting to think that Ben got very upset by my having left him for four days.

What I have learned about Ben is that he’s cuddly on his own terms.  He comes to you, not the other way around. Petting him when he’s lounging around will earn you a swat–that is Ben Time, not human time!  Back, foul primate!–but if he comes up and wants snugglin’, he’s a lovey beast.

And I knew that he was kinda my cat. James gets some passing affection, but rather less tolerance, and doesn’t get the bathroom escort mission, either.

But sheesh, ever since we got back from PA, Ben’s in my lap constantly–onto the desk, down the keyboard, commence snuggling. He’s done it twice since I started this post. Ten, twenty times a day, I get cat. And then I have to pet him and rub his throat and snoogle the top of his head, and then he purrs. And after awhile I dump him to the ground, and he wanders off, and five minutes later he’s back. If I play Xbox games, he’s right there, draped over one leg, supervising my pinatas. (For James, he will observe from the end of the couch, perhaps even allow his tail to come in contact with gamer thigh, but that’s it. I begin to suspect he’s a one-person cat.)

Athena thinks I’m an utter traitor, of course, but let’s face it–like the proverbial gorilla, a sixteen pound cat snuggles anywhere he wants to.

 The first dream of the new year, and…dude.

A radio interview with a set designer that I heard last week crossed with a video game, and gave me…Blade Runner–Happy Pinata Style!

Something in my brain broke hearing Rutger Hauer narrate about the pinatas he’d seen, which would now be lost like tears in rain. (At least, I assume that’s what was happening, there were all these damn pinatas everywhere, so it was getting hard to follow…) It was almost a relief when the dream segued into something where I was Anne of Green Gables and dating a guy who rode trained walruses for the Navy.