While I was gone, she was incredibly perky, and was eating again. And she was this morning, too. But this evening, she just rocketed downward, 'til finally tonight she just lay down in my lap and went to sleep.

There will be video of her from the weekend -- maternal unit just felt like taking vid of her eating -- once it's been sent to me. For now, just have a look at what a gigantic idiot I am.

True to her name, I'm burying her with a scrap of fabric left over from my Noriko costume and the headband from said costume. (I can get identical blue ribbon again anywhere.) And my tacky box for her is painted appropriately. Neither of these photos actually shows her. I'd never take a picture of her not alive. Not how I want to remember her. Not how anyone wants to remember her.

I was going to pick up the steroids tomorrow to treat for possible lymphoma. I was too late. And I don't know whether to blame myself, the (apparently) cancer, or to just tell the world to go fuck itself.

Can't stand a world that would take away my baby for no fucking reason. Can't stand not seeing her in the cage. Can't stand everything falling on me right here and now all at once.

I believe this is the 'Anger' stage. G'night, all ... meanwhile, enjoy Tali's pizza folly, and expect omake for the rest of the week as prep for Co-Writer's Japan Odyssey prevented him from writing more scripts before time. They're good omake, honest.

If you have been, good night.