Richard

Kansas left Philadelphia for a time when things began to fall apart, and I was sad. She's just like Her, which I recognized right from the off, but not like Her at all, which is an unfair and illogical way to end this sentence.

I don't remember the first time I met Mad, but I remember the first time I met Aja, who was drunk and giggling on the porch at the castle the night Mad brought her over. I now consider Aja a close friend and ally, and while I don't feel attracted to her in the same way that I do many other women, I fully acknowledge and appreciate how powerful and strong a relationship with Aja could be, and chide myself for being so stupidly obstinate about at least any possiblities.

I remember the first time I saw Her, though, and I remember the first time I saw Kansas, who was training at the Chain. They're the same height, share many of the same facial features and expressions and tics and similar attitudes towards life, a sort of surrendered obligation to circumstance with little stabs at living thrown here and there when things are good, or really bad. She stopped by work tonight and had a beer, which was nice. Yesterday she passed along one of her roommate's cats to me, and I've decided his name is Richard.

Richard and I get along, and he's giving me a firmer footing in the real world. Right now he's trying to entertain himself as best he can, with a pretty bland apartment, and I only ask that he not shred the Boston Acoustic covers (we're working on this, I told him the couch is fine) and not tip over any alcohol, and not piss on anything just yet. We both share a love of any food we can get our hands on, paws on, whatever, and for the most part I think we make good companions. Fish isn't exactly impressed, but then, Fish and I never really connected on the such a level.

Mad says she doesn't like Richard, but I know better. Mad has to put up with both of us now, and I think she'll enjoy it. Mad and I are going to Abuela's tomorrow for Thanksgiving, and then I'll do my own little feast here with some amazing garlic turkey from the grocer.

I just tapped a bottle of Jose Cuervo's Black Medallion, and let me tell you, sir: this is an amazing tequila. More body than the only somewhat cheaper Gold Especial, and the burn is welcome. I know tequila is one of the more complex liquors, and Cuervo has a way of putting perfection into a bottle at a very affordable price. Sorry, Patron. I appreciate the finer accents of an expensive silver or reposado, but holy shit, if you haven't tried Black Medallion then get yourself a rocks glass and maybe a modest chaser--glass-bottled coke or orange juice will do just fine--and get ready for the most mellow evening of your life.

I'd let Richard have some but he's really not old enough.