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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


Le chien-chien, et le chat-chien

I have been working on this new project for about 12 hours now, and I have just realized I don't know jack about PhotoShop. It's so frustrating. But I've decided that one of the concepts really needs transparency in the images and goddamn it, I'm going to figure it out and put some in the layout before I send off the preliminary artwork. I just hope there's enough time in the schedule to accommodate some dinosaur retraining.

It's sunny here. Again.

A lot of people will tell you that Los Angeles is a strange place. I will tell you that yesterday, I saw a white rat with a gray head run across the street and into the neighbor's yard. The rat spent about 15 minutes rooting around in the flowerbeads then disappeared. Then another day, I saw a hawk on the sidewalk, with what looked like a small bird in its talons. The hawk was just sitting there calmly ripping its prey to shreds. In San Francisco, I think the most exotic animal I ever saw were the wild parrots that live in the palm trees along Dolores Street. A rat on the lam and a ravenous hawk are stranger to me than pneumatic breasts or trendy tattoos.

Because of my asthma, I have a love/hate relationship with animals. In general, I try not to indulge my love for small furry things because cuddling invariably sets off wheezing or worse; however I did make an exception for the love of Gentry's life, Tim the Prairie Dog who is the most adorable creature ever. So soft, so docile, so cuuuute with Gentry's lipstick all over his nose! After Tim, I think the cutest things at the Marché aux Oiseaux are the hedgehogs. Their quills feel like uncooked rice, and they have the funniest little snouty faces. And they roll up into a little ball! How can you not go crazy for that? The only pet I can safely have is fish and frankly, I can't take the emotional rollercoaster that is fish ownership.

When I was a kid we had a dog named Pancho. He was banished as soon as I was diagnosed with asthma. At some point in the 80s, my family was adopted by a fluffy cat who stopped by for some attention, then never left. For simplicity's sake, we called him Minou, which means kitty in French. When I walked home from school, he would hear my voice and magically appear on the sidewalk in front of me. Or he would come running down the street to meet me. If I could have any pet in the world, I would want a cat with the same character as Minou's. He had a lovely temperament.

But there will be no pets here. I don't have a yard and anyway, the lease says so. I'll have to get plants instead.

7:08 p.m. - 2001-12-04



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