feline

Sometimes she looks like Louise Brooks. I think it is intentional on her part.

I am completely enamored by everything she has to offer, but one of the top things I find adorable is her sense of style. She transforms her wardrobe into a malleable canvas that expresses and articulates her feelings and emotions.

She is an artist when it comes to fashion.

Her taste is not to everyone's liking, but I find it impeccable and intelligent.

Her job has her springing about town, looking for vintage materials from which to fashion and forge new creations. In the course of her travels she will find something that she personally likes, and she will keep it for herself or give it to someone she thinks might be able to use it.

She found two shirts for me, both of them to be worn on stage when I play a show. I would have never picked these shirts out myself, because my fashion sense is muted and limited. I am comfortable with blacks and greys and blue-collar jackets and scruffy boots and baggy pants.

But she knows what looks good, and I absolutely love the shirts she found for me.

I think I like the fact that she was thinking of me more than the actual shirts, but truth be told: those shirts are mighty dandy.


*/*


The Wolf Man's 30th birthday was last week. Of course we were prepared to beak it up with some fine Bolivian marching powder, because that's what Wolfie likes to do above all.

I invited her along. She and I have been spending a lot of time together and I figured she would make great company for me, Wolf and Down Low.

She brought out a playful vibe in my two friends. If she had not tagged along, I would've undoubtedly spent most of the evening dealing with their respective pathological neuroses. Instead, we all had a blast as we drank heartily and sang karaoke at a bar & grill in Burbank.

Yes, we did karaoke. She loves it, even though her voice is abysmal. She knows how bad her singing voice is, but it doesn't stop her from trying.

And I love that about her.

When I finished my song ("Little Red Corvette" by Prince) she jumped up at me and wrapped her legs around me as I walked off the stage. She flattered me as she giggled, and the sight of her Cheshire Cat grin as she beamed at me intoxicated me with pure wonder and romantic awe.

When I told her that her karaoke song was great, she sneered and said, "You don't have to say that. I know I suck."

To which I replied, "I'm not talking about being in key. I'm talking about having guts. You go up there and you give it all you got. That's incredible."

She smiled and batted her eyelashes like Louise Brooks. Then she straightened her face and said, "I have terrible stage fright. That's why I go up and do karaoke."

I gave her a kiss on the mouth-- a gentle peck, no tongue or anything like that... not that I am averse to French kisses... it's just that the moment called for a subtle caress of her lips against mine, and that's what I delivered.


*/*


By the morning, I had already dropped her off at home and headed back to my empty apartment, where Wolfie was passed out on the last piece of furniture still inside my soon-to-be-vacated abode.

He had a great time the night before. He went on about her, how cool she was and how lucky I was to have her.

I silently recalled that Wolf had actually met her a year ago, when he was playing in the band with me. She approached him after a show and complimented him on his drumming. Then he came up to me and relayed the news to me.

I remember telling him to go find her and talk to her. He didn't.

Then a year later I bumped into her at the old hang-out, and we began to chat, and I threw all caution to the wind and asked for her number so I could continue talking to her.

As much as I am glad she and I are having fun together, I wonder what would have happened had Wolf Man listened to me when I advised him to talk to her. Part of me wishes he would've had the courage to follow through on his initial impulse.

But part of me is glad that I didn't hesitate when it was my turn to approach her. The night I talked to her for the first time I knew I had to do something or spend the rest of my night kicking myself for not taking any action.

Not a day goes by when I don't pat myself on the back for showing a little backbone.

I am still planning our date date. She is looking forward to it, and so am I. It will be a chance for me to show her more than ever how far I have fallen for her.

I gave her my cat Marvin when I moved out. Seems that he fell in love with her too! Marvin is a shy but loving cat, and when she first arrived at my house he was smitten by her. He meowed loudly and sniffed her hair and stared at her with his mandarin eyes, going so far as to sit on the top of the couch so that he could ogle her up close.

She in turn found Marvin to be irresistible. She asked me if she could have him and at first I refused, but after seeing Marvin's reaction to her I decided that it would be healthy for him to be with her. Yes, I would miss him, but I don't feel so bad knowing that he is being loved... and that he is loving his new home just as well.

It's the best thing for him, really.