Monday, April 23, 2007

The Big D

Well. Jess has kitty diabetes. Not shocking, given his symptoms, but still upsetting. Since his blood sugar is so high right now, they want to start him off with two insulin shots a day. Normally we might try to treat it with meds and diet first, but they're worried about getting his levels down. And so am I. So Wednesday Jess and I get to go back to the vet where I will learn how to inject insulin into my rotund cat. I'm not that worried about giving the shot; he has plenty of fatty, loose skin, and if I do it while he's eating, I doubt he'll even notice. This could be the naivete talking. I'm just sayin', if it was Piper needing the shots, I'd be out shopping for falconer's gloves and goggles.

Maybe I was mentally preparing myself for this, since I knew what his symptoms could mean; I say this because I almost felt relieved today when I finally found out what was wrong with my sweet pumpkin spice. At least it's not kidney or liver failure, which I was worried about. If you'll recall, that's how Megs died. However, his liver levels were a little off, which is another reason to get him up and running on the insulin sooner rather than later.

I'll update when I know more. Cross your fingers and claws...

Friday, April 20, 2007


There's been a lot going on. Things like:
  • I've been in contact with a realtor to see about buying a condo in the next few months. I'm still not positive I am ready right now, but my lease is almost up in the apartment and every day I realize how much I HATE living in an apartment. So. We'll see...
  • I took Jess to the vet today because for the last few weeks his water consumption/output has gone up drastically and he's also been losing weight. And turning brown. That's right, his previously pure gray fur is going brown in some spots, and it's just -- wrong. Anyway, the vet thinks it's his thyroid, but we won't know for sure until the blood work comes back, hopefully tomorrow. She thinks it's either his thyroid; kidney disease; or diabetes. At least all of those things are treatable, if not curable. The thyroid theory would explain his new habit of waking me up throughout the night trying to trick me into feeding him AGAIN; if his metabolism is running wild, that would mean he's not sleeping well, he's hungrier, and more playful -- and he has literally been on Piper's back a lot lately. So that's where my money is, but who knows. I can either treat it with daily meds, or shell out a chunk of money up front and get his thyroid zapped with iodine. Oh goody, decisions decisions. Let's hope he just has a bladder infection or something curable with a few pills. Poor little man cat.
  • Work is still insanely busy. I don't like that it is insanely busy. I feel, mostly, insane. And very very busy.
  • Thank you Jesus, SANJAYA IS FINALLY GONE.
That's all I can manage right now. Oh, also my ex BT is getting married tomorrow. Good times all around.

I'm off to the bathtub with a bottle of wine.....
(just kidding. sort of...)

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Weekly AI Haiku

Haley, Haley, Haley.

Goodbye, Haley’s legs
Next week, you would have been nude...
Glad to see you go.

Monday, April 09, 2007

hating my sinuses: a haiku

Rosy-looking cheeks
disguise the sly infection
raging in my face.

Saturday, April 07, 2007

I'm all out of snappy headlines.

This is my therapy, you know. Anyone out there, reading this? You are my therapist. Even if you never say a word, even if I don’t know you or know that you’re reading, it is still greatly therapeutic for me to come to this place, my little corner of the Internet, and emotionally vomit every now and then. So, thanks.

You might recall my previous post in which I complained about my crappy week. Oh, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. My mother called tonight to tell me that my dad has had another heart attack, and as I type this I don’t really know what’s going on or how he is. I’ve been assured it was a “small” heart attack, but not insignificant; “they” are puzzled because he had a quadruple bypass just two years ago, and has exercised ever since then, so how is this possible? We won’t know anything until the morning, when they go in (through a vein in his leg) and stick a little camera in his heart and check on things. I was told not to jump on a plane. But when I moved up here last summer, I didn’t realize the crippling sense of helplessness I would feel in a situation like this. I have never felt so far away from my family. If I were still in Austin, I’d have been at my mom’s house within the hour. But here, it takes a lot more finagling, and guilt all around. Not just my own guilt for not being there, oh no. You see, I come from a long line of guiltinators. If I were to jump on a plane right now, my dad would feel guilty that his heart attack has disrupted my weekend, and that would cause him more stress. I kid you not. The man was apologizing to my mom for having this happen “on Easter weekend.” Geez Louise.

Weren’t we just here? Didn’t we just do this? Even though two years ago seems so short in terms of his heart health, it also feels like a lifetime ago. A lot can happen in two years. Hell, a lot can happen in one.

I am going to try and sleep tonight so I can be bright and ready for anything tomorrow. Please say a little prayer for my dad – he’s lying in a hospital bed right now worrying about how we are all worrying about him.

Thursday, April 05, 2007


I've been "off" this whole week. Not sure why, since I had a great weekend and this week at work hasn't been too terribly bad. I had a migraine yesterday, though -- man. It's been a while, and I'm so glad I don't get them too often. I was incapacitated most of the day, not getting as much work done as I needed to. Today was another weird day at work, and I'm still running behind. I have to catch up tomorrow, and I hate being up against the gun on a Friday. Oh well.

But those are just the surface things. Other things are bothering me, deeper things. For one, I've been emailing with the boy, and I still like him and still feel kind of sad. But I just don't feel like I can do the whole relationship thing right now. It feels overwhelming. And then there's the whole spark thing. So that's been on my mind; I resist the urge to write him back filling him in with my daily life, details we had started sharing, because I don't want to send mixed signals. And I know the signals would be mixed because I'm so mixed up.

Then, there's the fact that my ex has resurfaced randomly. He's not contacted me, although he's asked about me, but even knowing he is still sending energy this way freaks me out. It bothers me that I can go weeks, even months without really thinking about him at all; but all it takes is a hint and I start having the nightmares again. Like, I'm functioning in society, making friends, being productive, falling in love, but if I saw him again I just know we'd get into a shouting match within moments. Either that or I'd regress into a curled-up little ball, rocking myself while quietly chanting "hate hate hate hate". I have so much pent-up rage still, and that surprises and troubles me. I feel terrible saying this, but the truth is I have nothing but disdain for him and I really don't even wish him well. I feel scared for his kids and worry about how they're doing. It only took him 6 or 7 years to strip me of my self esteem, he's got them until they're 18. It scares the shit out of me.

Anyway. Oh, and fucking Sanjaya is still on AI and it makes me want to hiss at someone.

AI Haiku

I can't help it. He's the only one who moves me to emotion...

Sanjaya, you make me cringe
I squeeze my eyes tight
And wait for your song to end.
Why were you not voted off?
I don’t get it, man.
America is stupid.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

dance like there's no tomorrow.

We stood in the private upstairs room of the cozy Indian restaurant downtown, surrounded by a few friends, a handful of acquaintances, and a room full of strangers. Everyone was breathless and celebratory, especially the birthday girl. Her red hair shone under the dim lights and her tinkling laugh made everyone around her smile. The music was silly and loud, and I stood next to my friends and the tall boy with whom I'd come. He and I were friends, but friends with potential. We had had one date once, which seemed to go well, but then nothing ever came of it -- except for more platonic happy hours and lots of laughs. So be it, he was funny and I liked funny guys. Sometimes we would get tipsy and flirt, which was always fun.

I remember that the festive air combined with my all-black attire, my red lipstick, and my slight wine buzz made me feel a little bit brave, a little bit hopeful. Significant eye contact had occurred with FTG (funny tall guy) and I was feeling fine. Suddenly, the birthday girl appeared in front of me, giving me a big hug, and grabbed my hand, leading me toward the mostly empty dance floor. I shyly pulled her to the side and tried to sit down at the edge of the floor, but she would have none of it. She giggled and pulled me again, and I panicked. She was shiny and bright and thin, full of joy and charisma; suddenly I felt lackluster, heavy, and terribly self conscious. My mind was spinning and I was keenly aware of funny guy behind us, urging me to go silly dance with her. It was then that I was struck with a vivid mental image of myself as I imagined others would see me--pale, puffy, perhaps with a shiny nose, fading lipstick, flat hair, shaking my body next to my thin, pretty redhead friend. I couldn't. do. it.

I shook my head and pulled my arm back, perhaps a little too hard, which surprised her. I sat myself stubbornly at the edge of the floor, FTG beside me, and just like that, I knew. I could tell from the change in his energy that I had blown it. I felt something in him cool toward me. I understood in that moment that it was never going to happen with us, because I didn't believe I was pretty enough, funny enough, fearless enough; because I was in fact too insecure to dance uninhibited at a party where I knew mostly no one. My friend had shrugged and danced away, pulling more girlfriends into her circle, but I remained seated, stiffly, with a fake smile pasted on my face. FTG got up and walked over to the bar, walked away from me.

We still went out with friends a few more times over the next couple of years, but any remaining spark had been effectively doused that night at the birthday party, as I hugged myself next to the dance floor and wished more than anything that I was thin and bubbly, or at least that I felt thin and bubbly.

I decided recently that I'm done with that girl. Not with my red-haired friend, although we lost touch not long after that party, but with that version of myself. I'm working on seeing myself as I want others to see me, not as I fear they do. Maybe I can do it this time, in a state full of mostly strangers; I'll keep you posted...