For some reason I forgot to say that my goldfish died. I was sad about that. He died about 3 weeks ago. I think mostly I was irritated, though, because for the first time in my life I had properly taken care of a pet. And it died anyway.

I really liked him. He was so pretty and so... swimmy, I guess. He was fine and then for about a week he moped about his tank and didn't swim very much. Then one morning he was floating on his side at the top of his tank, but he wasn't dead. He tried to swim normally, but he turned over on his side and floated back up to the top. I thought he would be dead by the time I got home from work, but he was still breathing and alive when I did get home. I felt worse about him being like that than having him actually die.

I shaped up the fish tank last week and this weekend I got a new fish. I got a Betta because a friend told me "You couldn't kill one of those even if you wanted to." So we'll see how it goes.

He's very pretty... in a masculine sort of way, of course. He's black changing to bright blue at his tail. I named him Thomas.

I think I thought of the name Thomas because I have fallen absolutely head over heels in love with English Cut, the blog of Thomas Mahon, bespoke Savile Row tailor. silverdee pointed me in the direction of the site last week and I cannot stop reading. I'm completely addicted. So fascinating...but it's about tailoring for God's sake. So I can't figure out what that's all about.

The fish's name is officially Thomas Alastair Steed, Esq., bespoke tailor of Wichita. Call him Thom if you insist, but he much prefers to be called Thomas... or Mr. Steed.

P.S. This post is actually a reconstructed post as Livejournal decided for whatever reason that the original was not good enough for actual posting. I was on the verge of a gigantic attack of rage, but decided that I wouldn't let them get the best of me. Not today. So the mood for this entry will be marked 'Happy'. Because I am... I swear.