At some point recently Elsa became by far the most popular thing on this blog. I look at my logs every morning and its just Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, as far as the eye can see. Apparently if you search for “cat” on google image search, Elsa comes up on the first or second page. Other sites have linked to this image as the platonic ideal of cat (which, of course, she is) and thus she ranks higher in google status, and my logs go nuts.
Because I am never one to resist pandering to the masses, I of course took more pictures of Elsa. This is her in her favourite spot, on the pink blanket. The pink blanket was actually my blanket when I was three; there are enormous amounts of family pictures of me with the pink blanket doing embarrassing things like picking my nose and showing off my underwear (I was THREE). The blanket is acrylic yarn knit in a square pattern, about three feet by five feet, and my mother found it a few years ago in a box in her basement. She was kind enough to send it to me, and I pulled it out of the box and thought aw man, what the hell am I going to do with this. I folded it up and tossed it on the couch, where five minutes later Elsa discovered it, kneaded the life out of it, and then curled up and went to sleep. And that was that.