Things have settled down. Wayyyyyy down. So far down. I don't know where the past week went, but i'm freaking out that I only have 3 days left to sleep in before reality and real life sets in again. Ugh. But the sleeping-in thing is messing with the going-to-bed-at-night thing, as you might gather by the time of this post. Both the cats sacked out on my bed about 2 hours ago. They tried to stay awake with me but it was just too hard. But me? I'm wide awake.
Jess and Piper are fine now. Jess got over his grumpy episode and they're buddies again. I still think he's grieving, but there's no sign that he's going to stop eating - ha. When I go into the spare room, where Megs spent her last few weeks, he follows me in and sits quietly with me. He seems a little sad. He's been really clingy, but that's cool because I've been home a lot so he'll just snuggle with me on the couch. Of this whole lazy week, I have accomplished very little. This is how little, yet I am so proud to have accomplished ANYTHING:
-Cleaned my room, a several-hour-long process involving hanging up tons of clean clothes stacked in various places
-Did 5 loads of laundry, clearing my kitchen floor of laundry piles for the first time in months
-Packed up another load of shoes and clothes to go to Goodwill
-Started a list of all the things I need to do in order to get my shit together in 2006.
Doesn't sound like a lot? Well... it's not really -- I basically did it all today. That's right, I only took one nap today, by golly, and look at all I got done.
Next week is really going to suck, isn't it?
I have done very little socializing this week, but i did see my friend Sarah, visiting from San Francisco, a couple of times, and that was very nice. Even though I had to work a tad this week, it still has felt very much like a break, which I needed. I'm so ready for this wretched odd-numbered year to be OVAH. I do better in even-numbered years. See for yourself:
- born - 1970
- H.S. graduation - 1988
- college graduation - 1992
- got married - 1994
- got divorced - 1998
- sister got married - 1998
- first nephew born - 2000
- second nephew born - 2002
- third nephew born - 2004
- quit job I hated, started job I love - 2004
Alternately, check out the odd-numbered years:
- mom had cancer - 1995
- started a long journey to my personal recovery - 1997
- separated from ex-husband - 1997
- got laid off - 2001
- near-fatal car wreck and subsequent health problems - 2003
- Meggie's death - 2005
It's kind of eerie, isn't it? Of course there are good and bad milestones in my life that don't fit the pattern, but generally? I'm all about the even-numbered years.
This might be the lamest post ever. Sorry. I'll try to have something interesting to write about very soon. Should be do-able -- New Year's Eve is tomorrow, and you never know...
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Monday, December 26, 2005
the aftermath, part 1
As I was pondering the title for this blog, I realized that referring to what follows as the aftermath is doubly true; meaning, the aftermath of the big buildup that is Christmas, as well as the aftermath of losing Megs.
I'm in a weird mood tonight. (Could part of it be because I've been watching The Learning Channel's (TLC) marathon of heartbreaking birth defects for hours? I just watched "Born Without a Face" and am now engrossed in "Born With Two Heads." Why? Why???). Barring the odd ambience as I type this entry, here's the setup: I am in bed, propped on pillows, typing on my laptop. Jess is curled up at the top of the bed by my pillow. Piper is curled up at the bottom of the bed, a mirror-image of jess. Now, the vet warned that the cats might grieve, even refuse to eat. I knew Piper would be thrilled about the whole thing, and I was right, but I expected something from Jess. After all, he's known Meggie his whole life; when he came to me as a kitten, 10 years ago, she was already well-established in the household and took over "training" this young male cat. I would describe their relationship more as that of siblings, rather than mother/son. I never saw much of a maternal instinct shining through even as Megs would tackle him, hold him down, and roughly bathe his disgusting boy kitten self. You could just see the cartoon bubble above her head saying "BOYS. Gross." So she would clean him, then set him free and ignore him for the next few hours. As you would expect, Jess spent his kittenhood trying to get her to love him. He desperately wanted her to play with him, and she would sometimes. For a while, she always had the upper hand (as Steph witnessed years ago when she came home w/me at lunch to meet Jess, and got to witness Meggie dribbling his little gray head in a moment of sheer frustration). Until. Jess grew up. And ended up weighing twice as much as her. And when he realized this, he took every opportunity to sit on her. To jump on her. He loooovveeeddd jumping on her back and pinning her to the floor, just to hear her complain. She was a good sport about it all. I think she did love Jess a little, but theirs was a complicated relationship. I always thought she was somewhat relieved when I brought Piper home, because then Jess had a younger playmate and he left Megs alone more. Megs had no problem with Piper, it was Piper who hated/feared Megs. But I digress.
ANYWAY, while I expected Jess to react in some way to her death, I knew he would not stop eating. I mean come on. We're talking about Jess the 21-pound cat. He has the same problem as his mom - he eats to medicate stressful emotions. So now, he's been eating more than ever, and can I blame him? No, he has not stopped eating, but he is reacting. He seems to be taking it out on Piper. Ever since I got home last night, if Piper comes near him he growls. She is giving him his space, but I know she's confused and a little hurt. It's almost like he blames her or something. I dunno, it's very possible i'm reading too much into this. I just hope it's a phase and it passes and they become pals again.
I overlap cats on purpose, you see; I never want one of my kitties to be left alone, grieving. I adopted Piper knowing that she would be a companion for Jess when Meggie was gone. They're all 5 years apart. So yes, I'll say it: it has occurred to me to get a 3rd cat at some point, so that the same holds true for Piper when Jess is gone. But right now it's not a consideration. I'm a little too raw, and the cats are too. Jess is ANGRY, people. Oh, the anger. He doesn't just growl at Piper, he growls at me when he wants me to stop petting him, or if he sees me pet Piper. He's just plain mad. So there will be no addition to the Young household for quite some time. I'd say maybe never, but I never say never.
I was going to go into my Christmas recap here, but I'm tired and the next show in the TLC marathon just started: "Little People, Big Dreams." More later...
I'm in a weird mood tonight. (Could part of it be because I've been watching The Learning Channel's (TLC) marathon of heartbreaking birth defects for hours? I just watched "Born Without a Face" and am now engrossed in "Born With Two Heads." Why? Why???). Barring the odd ambience as I type this entry, here's the setup: I am in bed, propped on pillows, typing on my laptop. Jess is curled up at the top of the bed by my pillow. Piper is curled up at the bottom of the bed, a mirror-image of jess. Now, the vet warned that the cats might grieve, even refuse to eat. I knew Piper would be thrilled about the whole thing, and I was right, but I expected something from Jess. After all, he's known Meggie his whole life; when he came to me as a kitten, 10 years ago, she was already well-established in the household and took over "training" this young male cat. I would describe their relationship more as that of siblings, rather than mother/son. I never saw much of a maternal instinct shining through even as Megs would tackle him, hold him down, and roughly bathe his disgusting boy kitten self. You could just see the cartoon bubble above her head saying "BOYS. Gross." So she would clean him, then set him free and ignore him for the next few hours. As you would expect, Jess spent his kittenhood trying to get her to love him. He desperately wanted her to play with him, and she would sometimes. For a while, she always had the upper hand (as Steph witnessed years ago when she came home w/me at lunch to meet Jess, and got to witness Meggie dribbling his little gray head in a moment of sheer frustration). Until. Jess grew up. And ended up weighing twice as much as her. And when he realized this, he took every opportunity to sit on her. To jump on her. He loooovveeeddd jumping on her back and pinning her to the floor, just to hear her complain. She was a good sport about it all. I think she did love Jess a little, but theirs was a complicated relationship. I always thought she was somewhat relieved when I brought Piper home, because then Jess had a younger playmate and he left Megs alone more. Megs had no problem with Piper, it was Piper who hated/feared Megs. But I digress.
ANYWAY, while I expected Jess to react in some way to her death, I knew he would not stop eating. I mean come on. We're talking about Jess the 21-pound cat. He has the same problem as his mom - he eats to medicate stressful emotions. So now, he's been eating more than ever, and can I blame him? No, he has not stopped eating, but he is reacting. He seems to be taking it out on Piper. Ever since I got home last night, if Piper comes near him he growls. She is giving him his space, but I know she's confused and a little hurt. It's almost like he blames her or something. I dunno, it's very possible i'm reading too much into this. I just hope it's a phase and it passes and they become pals again.
I overlap cats on purpose, you see; I never want one of my kitties to be left alone, grieving. I adopted Piper knowing that she would be a companion for Jess when Meggie was gone. They're all 5 years apart. So yes, I'll say it: it has occurred to me to get a 3rd cat at some point, so that the same holds true for Piper when Jess is gone. But right now it's not a consideration. I'm a little too raw, and the cats are too. Jess is ANGRY, people. Oh, the anger. He doesn't just growl at Piper, he growls at me when he wants me to stop petting him, or if he sees me pet Piper. He's just plain mad. So there will be no addition to the Young household for quite some time. I'd say maybe never, but I never say never.
I was going to go into my Christmas recap here, but I'm tired and the next show in the TLC marathon just started: "Little People, Big Dreams." More later...
Thursday, December 22, 2005
gone missing.
Today there is one less soul living under my roof. While I can still feel her presence everywhere, and keep turning my head to see her visage out of the corner of my eye, she is gone. It's interesting to find out that there is such a marked, noticable change of energy -- that one little cat had such a presence for so many years.
Those who didn't know Megs very well thought of her as a nice enough cat, however a stereotypical one. It's true, you had to earn her trust before she'd allow you to bestow her with pets -- and then she only liked to be pet a certain way and would get really pissed if you did it wrong. But the people who knew her well knew that when you got to know her, she was one entertaining, opinionated, loud kitty. She had a sense of humor as well as a sense of irony. She had the most expressive kitty face I've ever seen. I could have fun scanning in every photo I have of her and putting a caption with what's she's thinking in each one, because to me it was always so clear. I just might do that someday. But today, I just want to remember her as she was just a few short months ago -- healthy, feisty, and fluffy.
If I had any doubts this morning, when the vet arrived at my house, I overcame them by thinking back to how Megs used to be. She has not been herself lately, and who could blame her -- you could just tell from her eyes that she felt like utter crap. She stopped eating/drinking a few days ago, and that's when I knew it was time to take care of her. While it was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make, I still feel it was the right one -- even as I type this with tears streaming down my face. I miss her. I missed her the instant she was gone. I want so much for her to jump up on my bed right now and cause Piper to go into a hysterical hissing fit. I keep wanting to go into the spare room where she'd been camped out and sit quietly with her again, talking to her and petting her head just right. But still, no regrets. She depended on me her whole life to keep her safe and healthy, I couldn't let her down now. Sure I probably could have kept her around a while longer, to make myself feel better -- but that was not fair to her. And now I feel strangely alone, even though I'm flanked with two sleeping, fat, healthy cats. I'm wondering when they're going to notice she's gone. I fully expect Piper to dance a little jig and click her heels as she belts out, "ding, dong, the witch is dead...", and I picture Jess being really concerend and worried, looking for her and calling for her. But it hasn't sunk in yet, for any of us.
There is just this hole in my heart. And the emptiness of this house. I know we will fill it up again with more love and memories with my two remaining babies, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. I think Piper will flourish, not just because her arch-nemesis is no longer around to freak her out, but because I can finally really love her without feeling guilty toward Megs, the first lady of the house and my best friend for years. I don't think I realized until tonight how I'd always held myself back just a little bit with Piper. Now I can enjoy her and all her little quirks more fully.
The other thing weighing heavily on my mind tonight is Jess. He is only 5 years younger than Megs, and he is overweight. I'm so conscious now that they can get sick and die in such a short period of time, i'm fighting my urge to take him in and have every blood test done to make sure he's **really** healthy. I'm hoping the urge subsides and I'll stop being paranoid at his every wheeze. I want to take a deep breath.
But for now, I am mourning my fair Meggie. A little piece of my heart, which held a piece of my history, died today. And I am sad. And Christmas is in two days. And I am sad. I'm going to miss seeing my nephews open their presents this year, and I am sad.
Let's hear it for 2006, shall we??
Those who didn't know Megs very well thought of her as a nice enough cat, however a stereotypical one. It's true, you had to earn her trust before she'd allow you to bestow her with pets -- and then she only liked to be pet a certain way and would get really pissed if you did it wrong. But the people who knew her well knew that when you got to know her, she was one entertaining, opinionated, loud kitty. She had a sense of humor as well as a sense of irony. She had the most expressive kitty face I've ever seen. I could have fun scanning in every photo I have of her and putting a caption with what's she's thinking in each one, because to me it was always so clear. I just might do that someday. But today, I just want to remember her as she was just a few short months ago -- healthy, feisty, and fluffy.
If I had any doubts this morning, when the vet arrived at my house, I overcame them by thinking back to how Megs used to be. She has not been herself lately, and who could blame her -- you could just tell from her eyes that she felt like utter crap. She stopped eating/drinking a few days ago, and that's when I knew it was time to take care of her. While it was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make, I still feel it was the right one -- even as I type this with tears streaming down my face. I miss her. I missed her the instant she was gone. I want so much for her to jump up on my bed right now and cause Piper to go into a hysterical hissing fit. I keep wanting to go into the spare room where she'd been camped out and sit quietly with her again, talking to her and petting her head just right. But still, no regrets. She depended on me her whole life to keep her safe and healthy, I couldn't let her down now. Sure I probably could have kept her around a while longer, to make myself feel better -- but that was not fair to her. And now I feel strangely alone, even though I'm flanked with two sleeping, fat, healthy cats. I'm wondering when they're going to notice she's gone. I fully expect Piper to dance a little jig and click her heels as she belts out, "ding, dong, the witch is dead...", and I picture Jess being really concerend and worried, looking for her and calling for her. But it hasn't sunk in yet, for any of us.
There is just this hole in my heart. And the emptiness of this house. I know we will fill it up again with more love and memories with my two remaining babies, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. I think Piper will flourish, not just because her arch-nemesis is no longer around to freak her out, but because I can finally really love her without feeling guilty toward Megs, the first lady of the house and my best friend for years. I don't think I realized until tonight how I'd always held myself back just a little bit with Piper. Now I can enjoy her and all her little quirks more fully.
The other thing weighing heavily on my mind tonight is Jess. He is only 5 years younger than Megs, and he is overweight. I'm so conscious now that they can get sick and die in such a short period of time, i'm fighting my urge to take him in and have every blood test done to make sure he's **really** healthy. I'm hoping the urge subsides and I'll stop being paranoid at his every wheeze. I want to take a deep breath.
But for now, I am mourning my fair Meggie. A little piece of my heart, which held a piece of my history, died today. And I am sad. And Christmas is in two days. And I am sad. I'm going to miss seeing my nephews open their presents this year, and I am sad.
Let's hear it for 2006, shall we??
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
nip it and tuck it away -- FOREVER
While there are many more pressing things to write about today, for the moment all I can handle is this: I am so done with Nip/Tuck. It's OVER. I got hooked on it last season and eagerly rented the DVDs for the 1st season. It was mesmerizing, edgy, sexy, beautiful. Then this year, in the third season? SUCKFEST 2005. I haven't been watching much lately since the first few episodes of this season were so painful to watch, but last night I got suckered in by the 2-hour season finale. It was the absolute WORST piece of television and writing I've seen in a very long time. AWFUL. I am embarrassed that I sat through the entire 2 hours of ridiculous-ness. BAH.
while i'm disappointed that one of my former faves now sucks, luckily there are many new faves just on the horizon. My name is Lisa and I am addicted to silly television. (...silly, but not STUPID.)
and that is all i can manage right now. more soon.
while i'm disappointed that one of my former faves now sucks, luckily there are many new faves just on the horizon. My name is Lisa and I am addicted to silly television. (...silly, but not STUPID.)
and that is all i can manage right now. more soon.
Monday, December 19, 2005
heaven in tin foil - candy review
Obviously I need to write a post regarding the big holiday party Friday night, but first... I have to share the invention of the year and the demise of any sort of self control. I present to you Hershey's Kisses, Limited Edition CHERRY CORDIAL CREME-FILLED.
Whoa. Do you know what this means?? Do you? It means they have created my fantasy candy. Let me tell you a little story. There was a small girl who had a cool Grandmother who had somehow gotten it in her mind that the small girl loved chocolate-covered cherries. She got said small girl several boxes of these Every. Single. Christmas. But what she didn't know was that the small girl hated any kind of real fruit pieces messing with her chocolate, and that the girl would meticulously suck all the chocolate/goo off the cherry before depositing it back inside the box, then happily consume the chocolate tomb of cherry creme and goo. (This always lead to the unfortunate occurence of someone opening the box of chocolate-covered cherries in excitement only to find a bunch of dried out, sad-looking cherries taking the place of the luscious chocolate candies that were there just 5 minutes ago.)
Anyway. So this candy is awesome because it is the chocolate covered cherry without the cherry. People, it is creme and cherry goo and NO GROSS MARACHINO CHERRY.
Just buy some now because for the love of God, they're LIMITED EDITION.
Whoa. Do you know what this means?? Do you? It means they have created my fantasy candy. Let me tell you a little story. There was a small girl who had a cool Grandmother who had somehow gotten it in her mind that the small girl loved chocolate-covered cherries. She got said small girl several boxes of these Every. Single. Christmas. But what she didn't know was that the small girl hated any kind of real fruit pieces messing with her chocolate, and that the girl would meticulously suck all the chocolate/goo off the cherry before depositing it back inside the box, then happily consume the chocolate tomb of cherry creme and goo. (This always lead to the unfortunate occurence of someone opening the box of chocolate-covered cherries in excitement only to find a bunch of dried out, sad-looking cherries taking the place of the luscious chocolate candies that were there just 5 minutes ago.)
Anyway. So this candy is awesome because it is the chocolate covered cherry without the cherry. People, it is creme and cherry goo and NO GROSS MARACHINO CHERRY.
Just buy some now because for the love of God, they're LIMITED EDITION.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
do the time warp, yeah
This entire week has been nightmarishly long and freakishly exhausting. Is it just me??? I know part of it is due to the season and the fact that OMG CHRISTMAS IS NEXT WEEK. The other part is, of course, my at-home kitty drama. Which is progressing sllllooowwwly -- although Megs has been acting pretty "normal" all things considered. Last night I put the fluffy Ikea rug next to the fireplace and she's been on that a lot, grooving on the heat and pretending the rug is her mama. She has regressed to nursing on the rug. Yes, that's right, "nursing" as in "sucking". It seems she is in a time warp as well, and sucking on the rug takes her to her happy place, where she was a carefree kitten in College Station, TX.
[here is where i would totally post a pic I have of her doing this, but i simply don't have the time... i promise to post it later, since i know you're dying to witness this anomoly...]
Anyway. All day yesterday I thought it was today, and all day today I've thought it was tomorrow -- and OMG our holiday party is tomorrow night and I haven't even thought about what to wear. Craziness! Oh, and I kinda forgot until today that I also have a freelance project due tomorrow. Tomorrow. So there's that. AND I am going to attempt to make the last of my holiday purchases tonight on my way home -- in an attempt to decompress between work work and more work at home. OH, and Without a Trace is on tonight.
So yeah, don't call me tonight; I'll probably be napping ;)
[here is where i would totally post a pic I have of her doing this, but i simply don't have the time... i promise to post it later, since i know you're dying to witness this anomoly...]
Anyway. All day yesterday I thought it was today, and all day today I've thought it was tomorrow -- and OMG our holiday party is tomorrow night and I haven't even thought about what to wear. Craziness! Oh, and I kinda forgot until today that I also have a freelance project due tomorrow. Tomorrow. So there's that. AND I am going to attempt to make the last of my holiday purchases tonight on my way home -- in an attempt to decompress between work work and more work at home. OH, and Without a Trace is on tonight.
So yeah, don't call me tonight; I'll probably be napping ;)
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
dream a little dream
I have always been a vivid dreamer, and I have lots of recurring dreams. I’ve even had epic dreams before, ones that continue for years, off and on. I’ve had “lucid dreams” – where I’m in the dream and know it and tell myself, “You’re in a dream, hey, kiss Brad Pitt! Do it! It’s a dream!” or, “Shit, that’s a 12-foot spider – wake up, dumbass!”. I have always, always, dreamed in color. I don’t know what any of this means, but I’ve always felt enriched by my active dream life – like I look forward to going to sleep at night, curious to see what life I’ll live in my head for the next 7 hours…and when I have one of those lazy weekends where I nap off and on for two days, or when I’m sick – my dreams will totally shape my mood during that time. That’s why I’m often a little foggy on Mondays. (yeah, good excuse, huh?)
Granted, I have had some weird, disturbing dreams along the way. I thought it might be interesting/scary to make a little list… so here are some of the recurring ones:
• Losing teeth. All my teeth are loose and start falling out and there’s nothing I can do. I totally panic at this one. Or, I look in the mirror and my nice, straight teeth are yellow and crooked.
• Kittens. I dream a lot of kittens, and once or twice I’ve even dreamed of neon-colored kittens. Pretty cool.
• My HS sweetheart. He is a comforting character who shows up from time to time.
• My ex husband. He is a malevolent character who only appears when I’m really stressed out – the dream is always that we’re back together, only I’m who I am now, but I can’t get away from him for some reason. A total trapped, helpless feeling. (hello, Freud?)
• My cats. I dream that they’re running out the front door; as I catch one and put it back inside, another one makes a run for it. Another stress dream.
• There’s this giant, old, rambling mansion I run around in during dreams – it is the setting for random dreams here and there, sometimes good ones and sometimes nightmares.
• Someone is chasing me and I’m trying to run – but it’s like trying to run under water, and I just can’t get going.
• When I was a kid, I had a recurring dream that I was in my parents’ backyard, calling for help, and when I’d see my dad and start toward him –he’d take out a pistol and shoot me. Yes, yes, I’ve covered this one in therapy, and no, my dad has never aimed a gun at me…I truly don’t know what this one is all about, unless it has to do with the time when I was 5-6, and I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night and crept into the kitchen, in the dark, to get a drink; and as I started back, feeling my way through the living room, my dad jumped out from the hallway with a gun, saw it was me, and lectured me to never EVER creep around at night again, because he thought I was a burglar and he could’ve shot me. Yeah, that might have something to do with the gun dream, huh…
• Dreams of being shot – NOT by dad, but by random bad people. The dream is more about feeling the impact, the realization I’ve been shot, then being aware of the wound and how it feels physically to be shot. Interesting because I’ve never been shot … at least not in this lifetime … (cue twilight zone music…)
• Falling/jumping off a cliff or building. The feeling of terror as I’m slipping, then release as I let go, then relief as I wake up and never hit the ground.
• Flying dreams – hooray for these!
• Making-out-with-celebrity dreams – double hooray for these! Seriously, I’ve made out with Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, Tom Cruise (before he was a freak), Adam Ant, Matthew McConahicantspellit… oh yeah baby.
• Missing-the-test-in-college dreams – everyone has these, right?
Ok. So a lot of those are stress dreams – maybe that’s why they’re recurring? I have a feeling Freud would have a heyday with me. So, spill it – what recurring dreams to YOU have? And I fully expect some creepy admissions – I told you about the teeth and gun ones, after all…
Granted, I have had some weird, disturbing dreams along the way. I thought it might be interesting/scary to make a little list… so here are some of the recurring ones:
• Losing teeth. All my teeth are loose and start falling out and there’s nothing I can do. I totally panic at this one. Or, I look in the mirror and my nice, straight teeth are yellow and crooked.
• Kittens. I dream a lot of kittens, and once or twice I’ve even dreamed of neon-colored kittens. Pretty cool.
• My HS sweetheart. He is a comforting character who shows up from time to time.
• My ex husband. He is a malevolent character who only appears when I’m really stressed out – the dream is always that we’re back together, only I’m who I am now, but I can’t get away from him for some reason. A total trapped, helpless feeling. (hello, Freud?)
• My cats. I dream that they’re running out the front door; as I catch one and put it back inside, another one makes a run for it. Another stress dream.
• There’s this giant, old, rambling mansion I run around in during dreams – it is the setting for random dreams here and there, sometimes good ones and sometimes nightmares.
• Someone is chasing me and I’m trying to run – but it’s like trying to run under water, and I just can’t get going.
• When I was a kid, I had a recurring dream that I was in my parents’ backyard, calling for help, and when I’d see my dad and start toward him –he’d take out a pistol and shoot me. Yes, yes, I’ve covered this one in therapy, and no, my dad has never aimed a gun at me…I truly don’t know what this one is all about, unless it has to do with the time when I was 5-6, and I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night and crept into the kitchen, in the dark, to get a drink; and as I started back, feeling my way through the living room, my dad jumped out from the hallway with a gun, saw it was me, and lectured me to never EVER creep around at night again, because he thought I was a burglar and he could’ve shot me. Yeah, that might have something to do with the gun dream, huh…
• Dreams of being shot – NOT by dad, but by random bad people. The dream is more about feeling the impact, the realization I’ve been shot, then being aware of the wound and how it feels physically to be shot. Interesting because I’ve never been shot … at least not in this lifetime … (cue twilight zone music…)
• Falling/jumping off a cliff or building. The feeling of terror as I’m slipping, then release as I let go, then relief as I wake up and never hit the ground.
• Flying dreams – hooray for these!
• Making-out-with-celebrity dreams – double hooray for these! Seriously, I’ve made out with Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, Tom Cruise (before he was a freak), Adam Ant, Matthew McConahicantspellit… oh yeah baby.
• Missing-the-test-in-college dreams – everyone has these, right?
Ok. So a lot of those are stress dreams – maybe that’s why they’re recurring? I have a feeling Freud would have a heyday with me. So, spill it – what recurring dreams to YOU have? And I fully expect some creepy admissions – I told you about the teeth and gun ones, after all…
Monday, December 12, 2005
history lesson
My oldest kitty, Megs, is very sick. I heard from the vet today and her bloodwork showed something seriously wrong with her liver. It will take a sonogram to find exactly what it is, whether it's cancer or liver disease, but either way, it's not looking good for the old girl. So very soon, I will have some big decisions to make about my 15-year companion. Gosh, that's longer than a lot of marriages -- longer than mine, for sure. That's longer than a lot of friendships. Longer than school.
My cat has seen a LOT of my life, literally witnessing every major life change so far -- I got her when I was 20. Before I had even met the guy who would become my ex-husband. And you know, I can look back and see now how I should have paid more attention to her -- she never liked that asshole. heh.
She knows my history, she IS my history. And it freaks me out to think of life without her fluffy self, she who has been the one constant in my life for so long. That is a good word for her: constant. She has slowed down a lot in her old age, but has yet to lose her attitude and spunk. She'll still kick Piper's ass if necessary -- but really all she has to do is give Piper one withering look and the Peeps is dust in the wind. Megs will still come loudly complain if she is unhappy about something -- hunger, thirst, even the litter box. She will come sit next to or beside me and touch my face with her paw, gently at first and then more insistently, until she has my full attention and I give her what she wants. My long-time friend Kelly was my roommate the semester in college when we decided to take on a pet -- she was/is co-mother to Megs. Even after all these years, and considering Kelly and I don't visit but once or twice a year, Meggie remembers her. And she remembers my family members. Oh yes, that cat has a looonnngggg memory. It makes me so sad that all those memories will be lost when she isn't around anymore.
Which brings me to tonight. I'm trying not to get too morbid, since I still don't have all the facts, but my vet basically told me to prepare myself. And I guess I have been, for a while now. As I've wached Megs grow more frail over the past 6 months, I've known deep down that her age was going to catch up with her and I needed to brace myself. But tonight, I am just loving her, giving her my support. Bringng her a plate of canned catfood to the back room where she prefers to sleep, turning on the gas fireplace for her shivering self, even though it's f-ing hot in here (gone is the ice, TX is back) and I had to strip down to my undies to stay in the living room with her. Before I came to bed, where I am writing this in an attempt to purge my heart so I can sleep, I took this small Ikea fake fur rug into her room and laid it on the futon, where she likes to sleep -- since she gets cold. So we'll see what the next days bring. But am I crazy to think she moved a little shower tonight than last night, almost as if she can sense this change of energy in the house? I'm trying to stay normal, but I get sad, you know.
I will sure miss her, but she is not gone yet, and as long as she's here -- and long after -- she's my best girl.
My cat has seen a LOT of my life, literally witnessing every major life change so far -- I got her when I was 20. Before I had even met the guy who would become my ex-husband. And you know, I can look back and see now how I should have paid more attention to her -- she never liked that asshole. heh.
She knows my history, she IS my history. And it freaks me out to think of life without her fluffy self, she who has been the one constant in my life for so long. That is a good word for her: constant. She has slowed down a lot in her old age, but has yet to lose her attitude and spunk. She'll still kick Piper's ass if necessary -- but really all she has to do is give Piper one withering look and the Peeps is dust in the wind. Megs will still come loudly complain if she is unhappy about something -- hunger, thirst, even the litter box. She will come sit next to or beside me and touch my face with her paw, gently at first and then more insistently, until she has my full attention and I give her what she wants. My long-time friend Kelly was my roommate the semester in college when we decided to take on a pet -- she was/is co-mother to Megs. Even after all these years, and considering Kelly and I don't visit but once or twice a year, Meggie remembers her. And she remembers my family members. Oh yes, that cat has a looonnngggg memory. It makes me so sad that all those memories will be lost when she isn't around anymore.
Which brings me to tonight. I'm trying not to get too morbid, since I still don't have all the facts, but my vet basically told me to prepare myself. And I guess I have been, for a while now. As I've wached Megs grow more frail over the past 6 months, I've known deep down that her age was going to catch up with her and I needed to brace myself. But tonight, I am just loving her, giving her my support. Bringng her a plate of canned catfood to the back room where she prefers to sleep, turning on the gas fireplace for her shivering self, even though it's f-ing hot in here (gone is the ice, TX is back) and I had to strip down to my undies to stay in the living room with her. Before I came to bed, where I am writing this in an attempt to purge my heart so I can sleep, I took this small Ikea fake fur rug into her room and laid it on the futon, where she likes to sleep -- since she gets cold. So we'll see what the next days bring. But am I crazy to think she moved a little shower tonight than last night, almost as if she can sense this change of energy in the house? I'm trying to stay normal, but I get sad, you know.
I will sure miss her, but she is not gone yet, and as long as she's here -- and long after -- she's my best girl.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
The day that [Austin] froze over
It's true. Last night Austin got its every-3-or-so-years-worth of ice and the city subsequently shut down. Which means, no school! I mean, work! Yay! I was reminded of those days in Kansas, going to bed at night praying for crazy snow and how gratifying it was to wake up and look out the window well (yes, my bedroom was in the basement -- more on that some other time) and see nothing but the white stuff. I. Loved. It. and I still do. It's like a "free day", where you can do nothing and feel no guilt because, hey, the city shut down! School/work is closed! Hooray! Well, I worked, but on my couch. Working in pajamas! Yay! I believe I have made my joy clear and can now move on. But first, here is proof (and I know my sister buried in "real" snow in CO is going to snicker but I don't care):
So I have been trapped inside with the kitties,* who are providing loads of entertainment:
And while the following photo was not taken today, I still think it's relevant to all the cat-anarchy we've had around here lately -- I'm not the only one fed up with the primadonna:
I will leave you on that note. Wherever you are, stay warm.
*Jess isn't really THAT big, it's just an unflattering angle...um, yeah...
So I have been trapped inside with the kitties,* who are providing loads of entertainment:
And while the following photo was not taken today, I still think it's relevant to all the cat-anarchy we've had around here lately -- I'm not the only one fed up with the primadonna:
I will leave you on that note. Wherever you are, stay warm.
*Jess isn't really THAT big, it's just an unflattering angle...um, yeah...
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Cat disaster
I left work a little early today so I could take my cat(s) to the vet. Piper has been living in the litterbox lately; and Megs, my geriatric cat, is, well, old. The appt. was originally for Megs, but I thought I would try to take them both and kill two birds with one stone. Well, HAHA on me.
I started trying to get Piper into her cat carrier about 20 minutes before I needed to leave because I remembered the last time she went in there it was a painful experience for both of us. She was also a lot smaller than she is now. And not as strong. So very strong. After 30 minutes of physically struggling with a writhing, hissing, angry feline with at least 10 limbs with which to block her insertion into the carrier, it was clear she was not going in there. Evah. So I scooped her up and decided I’d just take her loose in the car and cage only Megs, who loved the cat carrier and would in fact live in there if I’d let her. Probably not the best idea — well in retrospect, a really horrible idea — but I was desperate and didn’t want to miss the vet appt. I kept telling myself it was for her own good, right?
You can probably see where this is going. No sooner had I stepped outside when Piper gave a mighty twist using her back claws in my belly to emphasize her displeasure, and I couldn’t hold onto her any longer — she shot out of my arms and flew around my house and over the fence into my backyard. I was thinking, ok, this could be worse — she’s in the backyard at least. But when I walked into the yard after her, she flipped out, doing her best “I’m dying in excruciating pain” yeowl and streaking past me and back over the fence into the front yard. Only after that she disappeared. I ran after her, but she had a good head start and was nowhere to be found.
So my sickly, skittish cat, with no front claws, no collar, and no street smarts, was loose in my neighborhood, just as people were starting to come home from work. I pondered the possibilities for all the open garages in which she could hide. Staggering. I called the vet to say the whole thing was a no-go and went looking for Piper. For an hour I drove around and around my subdivision, then walked around calling for her, then sat outside (in the freezing cold, I might add) listening for her, and felt panic every time I heard the distant sound of dogs going apeshit (as in, oh, Piper just became doggie dinner).
Jess was ever so helpful during the search efforts. Concerned, he followed me around the house as I checked under furniture, thinking maybe she’d magically snuck back inside. As I knelt down and tried to look under my couch, he was very good natured about crawling underneath, peering out at me, then crawling back out, as if to say “nope, not there.” I left my backdoor open this whole time, so she could come inside if she found her way back to the house. I watched as Jess walked the perimeter of the backyard, sniffing every blade of grass and rubbing his face on the fence periodically. I then watched in amazement as he took a kitty shit in my backyard — then tried to bury it. For a while. This is notable only because I’ve always laughed that my silly housecats come inside to use the litterbox, then go back outside to frolic. I was proud that he’d finally figured out that outside = ok to shit in. But I digress.
I also called several friends during this time, who were very supportive for their part, considering they were completely helpless. It was starting to get dark and tonight is supposed to be the coldest night so far this year — the PERFECT night for a housecat to be lost outside. Yeah.
As the sun began to set, I walked into my backyard once more, this time going around to the far side of my house, the side I never go on. I noted how the grass on that side was still green, vs. the straw that was the rest of the yard. I noted the neighbor’s vine/weed had grown into my yard and was destroying the fence. I noted the discarded HEB styrofoam ice chest lying on its side, and realized it had been there for at least two years, geez, how lazy WAS I — when all of a sudden a wild animal propelled itself out of the box and careened past me. I thought it was a raccoon, I honestly did. I ran around the corner in time to see Jess sitting on the back porch looking over his shoulder into the house, like “WTF was THAT and did it GO INTO MY HOUSE???” You guessed it, it was the Peeps. She had the presence of mind to hide in her own backyard and to stay quiet as a mouse while I yelled her name all over the neighborhood. Right now she is under my bed, not speaking to me. In fact, if I speak to her at all, she hisses and growls. But she’s inside, Thank God, and safe. Plus, I have set up an appointment for a mobile vet to come to the house tomorrow afternoon. I’m smart like that.
I’m assuming she will forgive me at some point, maybe when she’s hungry?? In the meantime, I’m going to go tend to my bleeding flesh and begin the emotional healing process.
I started trying to get Piper into her cat carrier about 20 minutes before I needed to leave because I remembered the last time she went in there it was a painful experience for both of us. She was also a lot smaller than she is now. And not as strong. So very strong. After 30 minutes of physically struggling with a writhing, hissing, angry feline with at least 10 limbs with which to block her insertion into the carrier, it was clear she was not going in there. Evah. So I scooped her up and decided I’d just take her loose in the car and cage only Megs, who loved the cat carrier and would in fact live in there if I’d let her. Probably not the best idea — well in retrospect, a really horrible idea — but I was desperate and didn’t want to miss the vet appt. I kept telling myself it was for her own good, right?
You can probably see where this is going. No sooner had I stepped outside when Piper gave a mighty twist using her back claws in my belly to emphasize her displeasure, and I couldn’t hold onto her any longer — she shot out of my arms and flew around my house and over the fence into my backyard. I was thinking, ok, this could be worse — she’s in the backyard at least. But when I walked into the yard after her, she flipped out, doing her best “I’m dying in excruciating pain” yeowl and streaking past me and back over the fence into the front yard. Only after that she disappeared. I ran after her, but she had a good head start and was nowhere to be found.
So my sickly, skittish cat, with no front claws, no collar, and no street smarts, was loose in my neighborhood, just as people were starting to come home from work. I pondered the possibilities for all the open garages in which she could hide. Staggering. I called the vet to say the whole thing was a no-go and went looking for Piper. For an hour I drove around and around my subdivision, then walked around calling for her, then sat outside (in the freezing cold, I might add) listening for her, and felt panic every time I heard the distant sound of dogs going apeshit (as in, oh, Piper just became doggie dinner).
Jess was ever so helpful during the search efforts. Concerned, he followed me around the house as I checked under furniture, thinking maybe she’d magically snuck back inside. As I knelt down and tried to look under my couch, he was very good natured about crawling underneath, peering out at me, then crawling back out, as if to say “nope, not there.” I left my backdoor open this whole time, so she could come inside if she found her way back to the house. I watched as Jess walked the perimeter of the backyard, sniffing every blade of grass and rubbing his face on the fence periodically. I then watched in amazement as he took a kitty shit in my backyard — then tried to bury it. For a while. This is notable only because I’ve always laughed that my silly housecats come inside to use the litterbox, then go back outside to frolic. I was proud that he’d finally figured out that outside = ok to shit in. But I digress.
I also called several friends during this time, who were very supportive for their part, considering they were completely helpless. It was starting to get dark and tonight is supposed to be the coldest night so far this year — the PERFECT night for a housecat to be lost outside. Yeah.
As the sun began to set, I walked into my backyard once more, this time going around to the far side of my house, the side I never go on. I noted how the grass on that side was still green, vs. the straw that was the rest of the yard. I noted the neighbor’s vine/weed had grown into my yard and was destroying the fence. I noted the discarded HEB styrofoam ice chest lying on its side, and realized it had been there for at least two years, geez, how lazy WAS I — when all of a sudden a wild animal propelled itself out of the box and careened past me. I thought it was a raccoon, I honestly did. I ran around the corner in time to see Jess sitting on the back porch looking over his shoulder into the house, like “WTF was THAT and did it GO INTO MY HOUSE???” You guessed it, it was the Peeps. She had the presence of mind to hide in her own backyard and to stay quiet as a mouse while I yelled her name all over the neighborhood. Right now she is under my bed, not speaking to me. In fact, if I speak to her at all, she hisses and growls. But she’s inside, Thank God, and safe. Plus, I have set up an appointment for a mobile vet to come to the house tomorrow afternoon. I’m smart like that.
I’m assuming she will forgive me at some point, maybe when she’s hungry?? In the meantime, I’m going to go tend to my bleeding flesh and begin the emotional healing process.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
the weekend that wasn't
Oh my, where did the weekend go?? Here are all the things I did NOT do this weekend that I wanted to:
- Christmas shopping (unless you count hitting "send" on an Amazon order I've been building for a week).
-Laundry.
-Decorating/putting up Christmas tree.
-Freelance writing.
-Laundry.
...and on and on. What did I do this weekend? Well I'll tell you:
-Slept.
-Rested.
-Slumbered.
-Relaxed.
-Vegged out.
It was, actually, a divine weekend of lazy debauchery, but still the Guilt, oh the Guilt. At least I managed to do 1 load of towels and unload the dishwasher -- woo hoo!! Now I sit in my old-fashioned, mom-looking, full-length nightgown, given to me by my ex-MIL, and which I wear only when it's cold b/c although thin, it's like a giant tent and holds in my body heat. I sit in this gown under a blanket and two cats, on my couch, in front of my (fake) fire, watching Dr. 90201 and surfing the web. I'm trying to enjoy this because I feel like it's the calm before the storm; tomorrow is December 6, and will mark the beginning of the holiday frenzy. Already I'm going to websites with giant banners that say things like "Only 5 more days for ground shipping before Christmas!" Internet, this freaks me out. I did the majority of my shopping online, but there is still more to be done and I dread going to the mall, any mall, with the holidays fast approaching. So wish me luck. Oh, I'm also annoyed with the Gap; I can't access their website from my Mac!! I get a message that they don't support my browser, which is Safari, which comes standard on Macs and which I was told to use by my work IT guy. Sigh. So I didn't know it was an unsupported, unpopular browser. And I blame the Gap, naturally. Like they're too HIP for Safari, give me a break. grumble grumble.
Ok, so I slipped in the comment on Dr. 90210, but I'll own up to it -- Yes, it's a guilty pleasure. Like most of my t.v. habits. But damn i'm fascinated with those boob jobs, I mean COME ON. It intrigues me that it is perfectly acceptable to show all these giant plastic boobs, as long as the nipple is erased by the magic of technology. I find this much more alarming than an actual nipple, but what do I know. And there's some drama brewing on Dr. Ray's homefront; he wants another baby and his wife just told us how she just got on the pill to "protect herself from an unwanted pregnancy". Yikes. I want to hate her because she's rich and beautiful and looks better than I've ever looked in a bikini after having TWO KIDS, but she's so sweet to put up with Dr. Ray's eccentric crap. Anyway.
Yeah, ramble ramble. I got nothin'. So I guess I should go prepare for another week that I'm sure will fly right by without my noticing, as is the norm these days. I'll try to check in some along the way.
that is all.
- Christmas shopping (unless you count hitting "send" on an Amazon order I've been building for a week).
-Laundry.
-Decorating/putting up Christmas tree.
-Freelance writing.
-Laundry.
...and on and on. What did I do this weekend? Well I'll tell you:
-Slept.
-Rested.
-Slumbered.
-Relaxed.
-Vegged out.
It was, actually, a divine weekend of lazy debauchery, but still the Guilt, oh the Guilt. At least I managed to do 1 load of towels and unload the dishwasher -- woo hoo!! Now I sit in my old-fashioned, mom-looking, full-length nightgown, given to me by my ex-MIL, and which I wear only when it's cold b/c although thin, it's like a giant tent and holds in my body heat. I sit in this gown under a blanket and two cats, on my couch, in front of my (fake) fire, watching Dr. 90201 and surfing the web. I'm trying to enjoy this because I feel like it's the calm before the storm; tomorrow is December 6, and will mark the beginning of the holiday frenzy. Already I'm going to websites with giant banners that say things like "Only 5 more days for ground shipping before Christmas!" Internet, this freaks me out. I did the majority of my shopping online, but there is still more to be done and I dread going to the mall, any mall, with the holidays fast approaching. So wish me luck. Oh, I'm also annoyed with the Gap; I can't access their website from my Mac!! I get a message that they don't support my browser, which is Safari, which comes standard on Macs and which I was told to use by my work IT guy. Sigh. So I didn't know it was an unsupported, unpopular browser. And I blame the Gap, naturally. Like they're too HIP for Safari, give me a break. grumble grumble.
Ok, so I slipped in the comment on Dr. 90210, but I'll own up to it -- Yes, it's a guilty pleasure. Like most of my t.v. habits. But damn i'm fascinated with those boob jobs, I mean COME ON. It intrigues me that it is perfectly acceptable to show all these giant plastic boobs, as long as the nipple is erased by the magic of technology. I find this much more alarming than an actual nipple, but what do I know. And there's some drama brewing on Dr. Ray's homefront; he wants another baby and his wife just told us how she just got on the pill to "protect herself from an unwanted pregnancy". Yikes. I want to hate her because she's rich and beautiful and looks better than I've ever looked in a bikini after having TWO KIDS, but she's so sweet to put up with Dr. Ray's eccentric crap. Anyway.
Yeah, ramble ramble. I got nothin'. So I guess I should go prepare for another week that I'm sure will fly right by without my noticing, as is the norm these days. I'll try to check in some along the way.
that is all.
Friday, December 02, 2005
On shame
This is shallow. It is silly. And I am ashamed. But it must be said:
I [HEART] Madonna's new CD, Confessions On a Dance Floor.
Go ahead, judge me. Then listen to it and try not to bob your head and shake your booty.
I DARE YOU.
I [HEART] Madonna's new CD, Confessions On a Dance Floor.
Go ahead, judge me. Then listen to it and try not to bob your head and shake your booty.
I DARE YOU.
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