It’s been a horrendous week. It’s impossible to be in the apartment and not be haunted by Tarrant’s absence. I expect him to be in here, I see him in the corner of my eye. I expect him to jump out at me, to chirp. I’m really heartbroken. I can’t take naps. I lie on the bed and cry.

I met this little girl in the Laundromat. I amazed by how comfortable these kids are with having their photos taken. I was taken by how beautiful she is and asked if I could take her photo. There is something so wonderful about her smile, it reminds me of the Mona Lisa.

Thank you to all my friends and neighbors for all their love and support. Thank you so much Michele and Ruby for the flowers and notes, and Heath and Regina for flowers too. Raul and Ken you are the best. And Mitzi. Tarrant loved you all.

When I lived on 23rd street, Tarrant was in cat funland. I lived in kind of a cottage behind a big house on a huge compound with about 5 building and tons of beautiful kept gardens. Tarrant went in and out all he wanted and was a big hunter. He went thru a period of bringing me mice in the middle of the night. Sometimes he would jump on the bed with them in his mouth. Tarrant would stand at the top of the stairs that led to the property waiting for me to come home and greet all the neighbors. He loved to go in everyone’s houses.

Right across from me was a guy with a super old (18) Manx cat named Riley. He was super tiny and couldn’t retract his claws. He used to sneak in my apt in the morning and I’d be lying in bed and could hear his claws as he walked. He and Tarrant loved each other and used to play by hiding and jumping out at each other. I remember when Raley died his owner moved because he said he couldn’t bear to be the apartment without him.

I feel like moving today. I can’t imagine being here without Tarrant.

My beautiful cat and wonderful friend Tarrant died last night. He had a heart attack and died in Ron’s arms.

We are heartbroken but take some comfort in knowing that he didn’t suffer and was happy and playing right up until the end.

I am heartbroken and don’t know how I will get used to his absence. He was about 15. We loved him dearly.

I’m reading 3 books at once right now. Baumgartner’s Bombay, a gut- wrenching account of a German Jew who escapes to India and lives there for the next 50 years, is pretty rough but I want to finish it. I Remember by Joe Brainard, which is brilliant but a little exhausting to read. It’s just phrases or paragraphs beginning with ‘I remember.’ It’s a very clever book. Mitzi gave it to me. Then I started the Best American Non-required Reading of 2006. The Introduction by Matt Groening is worth admission price itself!

I read Diamond Dust, a collection of short stories, by Anita Desai. I enjoyed it a great deal. Now I’m reading Alentejo Blue by Monica Ali. It is about a Brit novelist living in Portugal. I really don’t like it and think I'm going to give myself permission to stop reading it.

I know, I’m overdue for writing.

I was reading The Shadow Lines by Amitav Ghosh but I didn’t finish it. That’s a new thing for me, allowing myself to stop reading and not finish the book. I used to make myself finish even if I hated it. Even if I was dreading it. The Shadow Lines was just boring.

Then I read Oxygen by Andrew Miller, which had all this acclaim. It was OK but didn’t knock my socks off. I’m still having a literary hangover from The History of Love.

Oxygen was very sad. I need something silly and light now. I also think I might be over the Indian obsession. We’ll see.