*bzzzzzzzzz*

i've been awake for...40 hours straight. my arms are trembling uncontrollably. but i don't look tired, which is really weird. i just can't sleep. the sleep function is broken. in disrepair. buggy.

i don't know why it's taking those idiots so long to check my references, which are impeccable. i don't know if i can stand working in a town where this sort of unprofessional behavior (i had to tell them how to reach my references, down to explaining to them how to get out of voicemail and reach the admin!) is apparently acceptable. parisians work harder than this, man.

my cat, lucy, keeps growing. she'll be two this month. i thought they stopped growing before now, but she's still going. you can actually watch it happen. she'll elongate, the fill out, then get longer. her tail is crazy long. there's just so much to her. it amazes me how small she can make herself, still. she is one long, tall, fluffy cat.

my other cat, oscar (pronounced oh-scar, which is how it's spelled in his file at the vet's, which tickles me), is going to be 18 this year. he continues to be the purr meister, king of silky-soft furness. i coddle him. i spoil him. i've known him longer than i've known any of my friends. ...that's really very pathetic. but, he's awesome. war wounds, man. he has war wounds.

i talk about cats because i'm unemployed, suffering from insomnia, and i don't know how to knit. if i could knit, you'd all have lovely long scarves by now.

go sleep for me, my little メロンパンs. sleep, and enjoy it. luxuriate.

チュ！

this just in...

i feel like warmed over cat spew. infection + nasty-mean cold = frickin' miserable mochi. pity me, for i suffer from both ebola and avian flu, and shall die! die! die!

woe!

drink your ginger tea and eat your vitamin c, my little メロンパンs. and sleep. the opposite of staying up all night watching cartoons/reading manga. sleeping means you don't die from avian flu and ebola like your silly sempai, mochi.

チュ！

パン

焼きたて!! ジャパン is completely addictive. what's worse, it makes me hungry. hungry for good bread. french bread, japanese bread. but i'm far, far away from any decent bakery. oh, man, what they call good food in this festering boil on the behind of human culture... so. wrong. i need to get me to that bakery on mott street. or sunshine on st. marks. or to boston. or to paris. or to kyoto.

dammit.

go eat good bread, my little メロンパンs. eat good bread, drink good wine/beer, and be merry.

チュ！

it's true, it's true, she does suck at life

mochizuki-sempai is i. i really should refer to myself as mochizuki, but it'll just be mochi, as i am lazy. i also prefer typing with one hand as i eat or drink tea with the other, so screw capitalization.

i graduated in august, 2005, but there are a few who still think of me as sempai. also, mochizuki and mochi were already taken. probably by actual japanese people. i just studied the language. not very well, either.

i am in a perpetual state of unemployment and indebtedness. i owe a lot. not just money, either.

that's enough for now, my little メロンパンs.

チュ！