As promised, here is the list of all my pets and little tidbits that made them special...
1. BeeBeeBahBah the cat. Calico, I think. I named her when I was less than 3 years old, thus the name. I only vaguely remember this cat hanging out with me in the basement when we lived in Tennessee -- I would play in my cardboard playhouse and she would warily watch me.
2. Zipper the cat. Grey and black-striped tabby. I **think** Zipper was related to BeeBeeBahBah. Not positive, though. I just remember Zipper never let me pet her, she was mainly an "outside" cat. We gave her to my Grandfather at some point so she could live out the rest of her years on his ranch, eating mice and such, since she didn't really like people. Or at least, small people.
3. Icky the cat. White with black and brown spots. Named for his predisposition for farting. And I may have been young, but cat farts. Dude. Icky. He also got into catfights a lot and we would have to patch him up in the morning. Pretty sure he got run over by a car on Bronzeglo Drive.
4. Muffin the cat. Orange. Got run over by a car on Bronzeglo Drive.
5. Sam the cat. Orange. Replacement for Muffin. Also got run over by a car on Bronzeglo Drive.
6. Fluffy the cat. Alley cat with siamese markings. Got knocked up and then ran away, never to be seen again.
6. Smoky Joe the cat. All I can remember is that he was gray. But not a shiny gray like Jess, more of a dull gray.
7. Powder Puff the cat. White with black and brown spots. Got her from a kitten farm in Kansas. She was a very talky cat, very chatty. Had three litters of kittens in the basement in KS, including one very traumatic miscarriage. Lived a long life and then succumbed to some kind of bronchial infection.
8. Patty the cat. Orange. PP's "brother" from the kitten farm. Thought he was a girl, thus the name; found out a few weeks later that he wasn't -- but the name stuck. When we moved back to Texas, he got run over by a car on Bronzeglo Drive. I won't go into the morbid story of his death because it still makes me sad.
9. Misty the cat -- a gray/tan tabby with enough siamese in her to make her eyes crossed and her meow super-ass-loud. Adopted from a shelter, along with her 5 newborn kittens, three of which we ended up keeping. So begins the reign of the Misty Clan.
10. Melissa of the Misty Clan -- looked more like a siamese, but with random white spots here and there, just to let you know she wasn't a purebred. Very mellow cat. For some reason, my dad always referred to her as "The Silver Cat", which, ?????. Not silver.
11. Socks of the Misty Clan -- Black, rotund cat with a white chin and white feet. She was deceptively cute-looking, but mean as hell. Heh. She did this thing where if you held your hand above her head she would stand up on two legs and meet your hand. She could stand like that for an alarmingly long time.
12. Hallie-Bones of the Misty Clan -- Black with a white stripe on his nose and a white chest. This was my first boy kitty love. He adored me and slept with me every night until I left for college. I tried to take him with me after the first semester because he was so distraught, but I hadn't even backed out of the driveway before he peed in the backseat of my car. He lived the longest of any in the Misty Clan, and eventually replaced me with my Dad. Other thing to note: in his older years, he got toe cancer and had to have two toes removed. Toe. Cancer. WTF?
13. TC (for TomCat) (Not Toe Cancer) the cat-- long-haired white and black. Perhaps the sweetest-natured cat EVAH. Chose my parents' house out of all the houses in the neighborhood -- personally I think other strays over the years had put an invisible cat mark on the house saying "Will Feed Strays." He lived a short life, but he was very sweet and cuddly, like a stuffed animal.
14. ChaCha the cat. Long-haired tan/black tabby. Another stray, adopted after I'd left for college. She was my brother's cat and ended up moving in with him after he finished college. Lived a long life.
15. Samantha the cat -- Himalayan. She was my mom's cat, the offspring of two of my Grandmother's Himalayan cats. Nicole and I never really warmed up to her for some reason. She had one kitten once. One. And it died after a few days. Perhaps I harbored resentment over this? Who knows. She and TC were boyfriend/girlfriend until TC died (although he was not the father of her kitten--that little slut)
16. Meggie the cat-- long-haired calico. This was the first cat that I got on my own. Got her my sophomore year in college with my roommate Kelly. She provided hours of entertainment as she was a feisty, outspoken cat. Very talky. Not shy. When Jess came along, she rose to the occasion and grudgingly mothered him until he outgrew her by more than 10 pounds and liked to sit on her, just to torture her. She lived 16 happy years. Now her ashes sit in the window by the LoveSac where Piper unknowingly hangs out -- so HAHA to Piper who doesn't even realize that she lounges next to her arch enemy.
17. Jess the cat-- shiny gray cat with a white chin and white chest. He's my handsome boyfriend cat, the namesake of this blog. He came along in 1996, the year my Grandmother died. The ex wanted to keep him, but I wasn't convinced at first. Thank GOD we kept him, because it's been 11 years and we're still going strong (me and the cat. NOT me and the ex). The coolest. cat. evah.
18. Piper the cat -- long-haired black/gray tabby. Another stray, found in a drain pipe. Very skitzy cat, but very sweet and soft like a rabbit. Can be talky sometimes, but mostly lays low and picks her moments to cuddle. LOVES Jess. You can see the adoration shining in her eyes whenever he's around. As much as she loves Jess, she hated Meggie. Lesson learned: don't get two chick cats at once. A boy-girl combo tends to work out much better.
Observation in retrospect: Bronzeglo Drive is a very dangerous place for cats.
Ahh, was that as fascinating for you as I suspected?? There was lots more I could write about them, but halfway through I realized the only people who might read to the end are my mom and my sister, so hey. There you go. If Nicole participates, I imagine our lists will look a lot alike, but I'd be interested to see her memories of each cat and how they differ from mine.
Meow and good night.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Weekly Blog Challenge: Heavy Petting
I do not have time to write my entry at this moment, but I certainly will later. This week's challenge is:
Don't forget to let me know in the comments if you participate...
List all of your pets, past and present, and write a blurb on why they were special/what you remember about them.I have a long kitty list on which I may need to consult my sister on any shady areas...betcha can't wait to read about them!
Don't forget to let me know in the comments if you participate...
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Balm for the soul
I just threw away my very first tube of Burt’s Bees beeswax lip balm. This is significant because I never, as in n.e.v.e.r., finish lipsticks or lip balms. No kidding, I have had this tube for years. I don’t know how many years, probably at least three. I know, it’s sick. The thing is, I’m so fickle that I am always trying to find the next lip product that will fulfill my deep inner longing for …well, I’m just fickle. I have TONS of lip products, but this is a first, actually using. one. up. I get this from my mother. But more on that in a bit.
So what usually happens to them, you might ask, as you picture a purse logged down by hundreds of lipsticks, glosses and balms? Well, my purse currently has 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8—9 lip products inside. It was 10, until I ditched the BB. And there are more all over my house. In my remote control basket thingie on my coffee table. By the front door. In my makeup drawer in the bathroom. On my bathroom counter. In my desk at work. Everywhere. And anything I’ve thrown away over the years has not been because I used it up, but because it started to look gross, it melted in the car (which shouldn’t happen now that I’m no longer in TX), or it started to smell like old wax. Unlike my mother, who still has lipsticks from the 70s, I throw away lippies when they begin to smell “off”. When they crumble as you try to apply them to your lips, it’s time to say bye-bye. Especially if they’re gift-with-purchase (read: free) lipsticks, MOM. :D I swear she still has lipsticks she inherited from my late Grandmother, because she never threw it away either. So you see in comparison, I’m MUCH better about it! I will throw it away, even if it pains me. [Incidentally, my mom/grandmother also horde/d other things, like shampoo, cleaning products, old towels – NOTHING ever discarded. But that could be a whole post unto itself: The Packaging Evolution of Windex, circa 1960 to Present” – just look under my mom’s kitchen sink.]
So, the point. The point is I’m heralding this using-up-of-the-lip-balm as a symbol of my new life in Colorado. I’m finally getting through my old stuff and truly starting fresh. Ta-da! See how neatly that all comes together??
Now I think I’ll break out the brand new, sealed tube of BB I bought last week, in anticipation of this dramatic event.
So what usually happens to them, you might ask, as you picture a purse logged down by hundreds of lipsticks, glosses and balms? Well, my purse currently has 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8—9 lip products inside. It was 10, until I ditched the BB. And there are more all over my house. In my remote control basket thingie on my coffee table. By the front door. In my makeup drawer in the bathroom. On my bathroom counter. In my desk at work. Everywhere. And anything I’ve thrown away over the years has not been because I used it up, but because it started to look gross, it melted in the car (which shouldn’t happen now that I’m no longer in TX), or it started to smell like old wax. Unlike my mother, who still has lipsticks from the 70s, I throw away lippies when they begin to smell “off”. When they crumble as you try to apply them to your lips, it’s time to say bye-bye. Especially if they’re gift-with-purchase (read: free) lipsticks, MOM. :D I swear she still has lipsticks she inherited from my late Grandmother, because she never threw it away either. So you see in comparison, I’m MUCH better about it! I will throw it away, even if it pains me. [Incidentally, my mom/grandmother also horde/d other things, like shampoo, cleaning products, old towels – NOTHING ever discarded. But that could be a whole post unto itself: The Packaging Evolution of Windex, circa 1960 to Present” – just look under my mom’s kitchen sink.]
So, the point. The point is I’m heralding this using-up-of-the-lip-balm as a symbol of my new life in Colorado. I’m finally getting through my old stuff and truly starting fresh. Ta-da! See how neatly that all comes together??
Now I think I’ll break out the brand new, sealed tube of BB I bought last week, in anticipation of this dramatic event.
Meeting my own challenge
Well, no one (that I know of) has taken this week’s blog challenge, including myself. In order to lead by example, I will do it now. About a day before NEXT week’s challenge appears…
I knew everything had changed the very first time it occurred to me that I could get a divorce. The world WOULD NOT END if I left my marriage. Suddenly I could picture myself not married, and happy. And from the surge of relief and excitement I felt in my body, I instinctively knew, in that moment, that I would do it. I would free myself.
It took me months of therapy to make my move, but even in retrospect, I couldn’t have left a moment sooner than I did. It was a long, arduous process, sparked by one brief moment of clarity--a moment that changed everything.
I knew everything had changed the very first time it occurred to me that I could get a divorce. The world WOULD NOT END if I left my marriage. Suddenly I could picture myself not married, and happy. And from the surge of relief and excitement I felt in my body, I instinctively knew, in that moment, that I would do it. I would free myself.
It took me months of therapy to make my move, but even in retrospect, I couldn’t have left a moment sooner than I did. It was a long, arduous process, sparked by one brief moment of clarity--a moment that changed everything.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Week 3 - WBC*
*(that's "Weekly Blog Challenge" for those not in the know...)
I am super-short on blogging (and sleeping) time this week, but I’m still going to announce the blog topic for this week:
I will be posting mine at a later date, probably this weekend. In the meantime I will start sifting through my alarming collection of such moments and decide which one deserves a public forum.
Write about yours, then come back and tell me!
I am super-short on blogging (and sleeping) time this week, but I’m still going to announce the blog topic for this week:
Talk about the moment in which you realized you were facing a major turning point in your life. The moment in which you had the startling realization that “nothing will ever be the same after this.” It always comes down to one moment of clarity, does it not?
I will be posting mine at a later date, probably this weekend. In the meantime I will start sifting through my alarming collection of such moments and decide which one deserves a public forum.
Write about yours, then come back and tell me!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Week Two: Weekly Blog Challenge
Here we are on week two of this, and I think it went well last week! Maybe I was inspired to choose this week's topic thanks to the premiere of American Idol, but nevertheless, here tis:
A few weeks into my freshman year in high school, I was BFF with this girl named Christy who I'd met in 7th grade. We were sort of friends by default, as we were both "the new kids" in middle school. She had skipped a grade and was even more insecure than I was, but in her case, it manifested in bossiness/meanness/put-down-ness. Whereas my insecurity manifested in...well, insecurity. Anyway, this drama was building in which the boy she had had a crush on (unrequited crush, it's important to note) was starting to flirt with me, and this was the first boy who had EVER flirted with me. And I wanted to flirt back. It helped that I had just gotten contact lenses after years of coke-bottle glasses, and was feeling a little prettier than I had, in say, the last 14 years of my life. She picked up on all of this and was trying her best to thwart it.
So one day in PE we were walking across the gym and she said, conversationally, "...actually, I think you looked better in your glasses because your face, it's kind of plain. Y'know?"
I think I might have nodded numbly and changed the subject, inwardly crushed. And it shouldn't have mattered, because the boy in question ended up being my HS sweetheart, and she and I parted ways halfway through 9th grade, but I never forgot this. Even today, on the rare occasions when I'm wearing contact lenses, I look in the mirror and feel compelled to put on more makeup to brighten up my plain face.
I appreciate the mini-orchestra of tiny violins, thanks.
So, what's yours? Write about it and come back and tell me!
Write about the rudest thing someone ever said to you. You know, that one thing that has stuck out in your mind and you can't quite forget it or get over it, even though it was YEARS ago---oh wait, is that just me? Surely not...
A few weeks into my freshman year in high school, I was BFF with this girl named Christy who I'd met in 7th grade. We were sort of friends by default, as we were both "the new kids" in middle school. She had skipped a grade and was even more insecure than I was, but in her case, it manifested in bossiness/meanness/put-down-ness. Whereas my insecurity manifested in...well, insecurity. Anyway, this drama was building in which the boy she had had a crush on (unrequited crush, it's important to note) was starting to flirt with me, and this was the first boy who had EVER flirted with me. And I wanted to flirt back. It helped that I had just gotten contact lenses after years of coke-bottle glasses, and was feeling a little prettier than I had, in say, the last 14 years of my life. She picked up on all of this and was trying her best to thwart it.
So one day in PE we were walking across the gym and she said, conversationally, "...actually, I think you looked better in your glasses because your face, it's kind of plain. Y'know?"
I think I might have nodded numbly and changed the subject, inwardly crushed. And it shouldn't have mattered, because the boy in question ended up being my HS sweetheart, and she and I parted ways halfway through 9th grade, but I never forgot this. Even today, on the rare occasions when I'm wearing contact lenses, I look in the mirror and feel compelled to put on more makeup to brighten up my plain face.
I appreciate the mini-orchestra of tiny violins, thanks.
So, what's yours? Write about it and come back and tell me!
Thursday, January 11, 2007
I can be...challenging.
fickle
-adjective
1. likely to change, esp. due to caprice, irresolution, or instability; casually changeable
2. not constant or loyal in affections
I have an early childhood memory of my mother explaining to me the meaning of the word fickle--since she had used it to describe me, her small daughter. I don’t remember what I did to merit this label--perhaps I had spurned the PB&J I had demanded just yesterday--but it made perfect sense once she explained it. And it’s stuck with me ever since.
As I grew older, I preferred to think of myself as whimsical, or even mercurial. But let’s be honest: fickle pretty much nails it.
There is some part of me that wants--no, expects--to be constantly entertained, and is impatient with the least bit of monotony. In high school, where there was no time to be bored, this translated into boyfriend drama. In college, I was at my best during finals and breakups. Plus, I changed roommates and apartments almost every semester. Today, this trait is evident in my long resume, my choice to go from a house to an apartment at age 36, and the fact that I haven’t had a long-term relationship in almost 10 years. Oh, and that moving-from-Texas-to-Colorado thing, too.
I get bored with… well… pretty much everything. Jobs. Homes. Cities. Boys. TV shows. Lipstick shades. Food. The list goes on and on. And as for a long-term relationship--I’m afraid, at this point in my singledom, that I will never be able to cohabitate again--with a significant other or even just a regular ole roommate. And while that does worry me, on some level, I feel a sense of relief that I may never again have to compromise in my personal life, yay! I know. I’m on medication already, thanks. But it’s much easier to be single than in a relationship. You can make all the decisions yourself--about your finances, décor, free time--and no one gets pissed if you change your mind.
I seem to be on a four-year cycle with change and/or upheaval. My working theory is that this began as a child, when as an Army brat, I moved every four years to a new school, new town, new friends, new life. Then high school was four (miserable) years. Then college was four (better) years. Married for (technically) four years. A new car about every four years. I broke out of it when I actually bought a house and stayed there for six years, but that was an all-time record for me. I was in Austin for 12, which is a multiple of four, so, see! It still works.
Being fickle also means I can be indecisive and change my mind easily. I might begin the day excited about happy-hour plans, carefully applying makeup and donning all-black attire, and by 3pm all I want is to go straight home and nap--the thought of being “on” in a social situation the furthest thing from my mind. I can change a food craving in a heartbeat. Just suggest something else, try me. I also have a hard time buying furniture, because I might stalk a piece for months, then when it comes time to buy it, the commitment of it freaks me out and I decide it’s not what I want after all. (You have to look at it EVERY DAY. Come on. Hard.) (Do you SEE why I'm single??)
However. And it’s a big, fat however. With BIG life-changing decisions? I have been known to move quickly. Like with buying new cars, or my house (which I chose on the first day of house-hunting, and never looked back). Making friends. Falling in love. Let’s stop there, shall we?
This post is a roundabout way of introducing this new thing I’m starting, It’s a service, really, to help myself and fellow bloggers struggling with occasional writer’s block or lack of inspiration. I am going to introduce a topic each week, and I, and hopefully you, will write at least one post about it. Let’s call it…
(I know – I write headlines for a living, can you believe it??) I used to do this way back when, sporadically, but I think it’s time to do it formally. And while it’s late in the week, I have been suffering from Stale Blog Syndrome lately, and I want to get started immediately.
So, this week’s blog challenge is – Write something introspective about yourself.
Go, do it! Then come back and tell me.
-adjective
1. likely to change, esp. due to caprice, irresolution, or instability; casually changeable
2. not constant or loyal in affections
I have an early childhood memory of my mother explaining to me the meaning of the word fickle--since she had used it to describe me, her small daughter. I don’t remember what I did to merit this label--perhaps I had spurned the PB&J I had demanded just yesterday--but it made perfect sense once she explained it. And it’s stuck with me ever since.
As I grew older, I preferred to think of myself as whimsical, or even mercurial. But let’s be honest: fickle pretty much nails it.
There is some part of me that wants--no, expects--to be constantly entertained, and is impatient with the least bit of monotony. In high school, where there was no time to be bored, this translated into boyfriend drama. In college, I was at my best during finals and breakups. Plus, I changed roommates and apartments almost every semester. Today, this trait is evident in my long resume, my choice to go from a house to an apartment at age 36, and the fact that I haven’t had a long-term relationship in almost 10 years. Oh, and that moving-from-Texas-to-Colorado thing, too.
I get bored with… well… pretty much everything. Jobs. Homes. Cities. Boys. TV shows. Lipstick shades. Food. The list goes on and on. And as for a long-term relationship--I’m afraid, at this point in my singledom, that I will never be able to cohabitate again--with a significant other or even just a regular ole roommate. And while that does worry me, on some level, I feel a sense of relief that I may never again have to compromise in my personal life, yay! I know. I’m on medication already, thanks. But it’s much easier to be single than in a relationship. You can make all the decisions yourself--about your finances, décor, free time--and no one gets pissed if you change your mind.
I seem to be on a four-year cycle with change and/or upheaval. My working theory is that this began as a child, when as an Army brat, I moved every four years to a new school, new town, new friends, new life. Then high school was four (miserable) years. Then college was four (better) years. Married for (technically) four years. A new car about every four years. I broke out of it when I actually bought a house and stayed there for six years, but that was an all-time record for me. I was in Austin for 12, which is a multiple of four, so, see! It still works.
Being fickle also means I can be indecisive and change my mind easily. I might begin the day excited about happy-hour plans, carefully applying makeup and donning all-black attire, and by 3pm all I want is to go straight home and nap--the thought of being “on” in a social situation the furthest thing from my mind. I can change a food craving in a heartbeat. Just suggest something else, try me. I also have a hard time buying furniture, because I might stalk a piece for months, then when it comes time to buy it, the commitment of it freaks me out and I decide it’s not what I want after all. (You have to look at it EVERY DAY. Come on. Hard.) (Do you SEE why I'm single??)
However. And it’s a big, fat however. With BIG life-changing decisions? I have been known to move quickly. Like with buying new cars, or my house (which I chose on the first day of house-hunting, and never looked back). Making friends. Falling in love. Let’s stop there, shall we?
This post is a roundabout way of introducing this new thing I’m starting, It’s a service, really, to help myself and fellow bloggers struggling with occasional writer’s block or lack of inspiration. I am going to introduce a topic each week, and I, and hopefully you, will write at least one post about it. Let’s call it…
The Weekly Blog Challenge.
(I know – I write headlines for a living, can you believe it??) I used to do this way back when, sporadically, but I think it’s time to do it formally. And while it’s late in the week, I have been suffering from Stale Blog Syndrome lately, and I want to get started immediately.
So, this week’s blog challenge is – Write something introspective about yourself.
Go, do it! Then come back and tell me.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Avalanches and seven-foot snowdrifts -- AWESOME
Yes, I know, Happy New Year and all that, whatever whatever. Sorry, but this is going to be another riveting Weather Post. The only thing that's been going on for me lately is the freaky weather here in Colorado. So, yeah. Last Friday? Another. Snow. Day. Which may sound like a lot of fun to my Texas friends, and 6 months ago I would've agreed with you, but Damn.
Oh, great. Just saw on the news that Pres. Bush is declaring a state of disaster for parts of CO in order to clear out the mountains of snow. Mountains of snow. Get it? Haha. So besides the piles of gloopy snow everywhere and the persistent ice that won't melt because it won't get above freezing for the love of God and All That is Holy, tonight we have Wind Advisories! Because there are Category 2 hurricane-force winds blowing outside, stranding people on highways as 7-foot-piles of snow cover their cars in one 90 mph gust. Good times, people. Good times.
But! I still love it! So, ha!
And now is where I give credit where credit is due. I present to you a stock photo image of my (previously) shiny new vehicle. A stock photo b/c the actual vehicle that I have is covered in snow mud. So, here tis:
See, mountains and everything! And that's the color of mine too, so there. I don't know how anyone survives up here without AWD, and I have been so very grateful for it in the past few weeks.
Mazda and I are renewing our formerly lusty love affair, and it's going well so far. I'll keep you posted...
Oh, great. Just saw on the news that Pres. Bush is declaring a state of disaster for parts of CO in order to clear out the mountains of snow. Mountains of snow. Get it? Haha. So besides the piles of gloopy snow everywhere and the persistent ice that won't melt because it won't get above freezing for the love of God and All That is Holy, tonight we have Wind Advisories! Because there are Category 2 hurricane-force winds blowing outside, stranding people on highways as 7-foot-piles of snow cover their cars in one 90 mph gust. Good times, people. Good times.
But! I still love it! So, ha!
And now is where I give credit where credit is due. I present to you a stock photo image of my (previously) shiny new vehicle. A stock photo b/c the actual vehicle that I have is covered in snow mud. So, here tis:
See, mountains and everything! And that's the color of mine too, so there. I don't know how anyone survives up here without AWD, and I have been so very grateful for it in the past few weeks.
Mazda and I are renewing our formerly lusty love affair, and it's going well so far. I'll keep you posted...
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Thundersnow
I can't believe it. It's happening again. They're estimating this storm to be even worse than last week b/c then the snow was fluffy and light, and now it's wet, heavy snow. Awesome. Roads are closing, the airport is shutting down, shelters are popping up everywhere, blahblahblah.
So my office closed down again today and will remain closed tomorrow, which normally would make me giggle and click my heels, but I have! cabin fever!!!
Yes, I stocked up on food and my car is in the covered garage, but I CANNOT LEAVE.
The cool thing is the news just said the front range is getting "thundersnow", which they described as just like a thunderstorm except instead of rain, it's snow. How cool would that be??? I hope I get me some of that. It would be weirdly unsettling, to hear big claps of thunder and then the silence of snow falling.
I'll keep you posted. There probably won't be any more snow pics, though, because you know - you've seen one blizzard, you've seen em all.
sigh.
Love! Winter! Still!
Not drunk!
So my office closed down again today and will remain closed tomorrow, which normally would make me giggle and click my heels, but I have! cabin fever!!!
Yes, I stocked up on food and my car is in the covered garage, but I CANNOT LEAVE.
The cool thing is the news just said the front range is getting "thundersnow", which they described as just like a thunderstorm except instead of rain, it's snow. How cool would that be??? I hope I get me some of that. It would be weirdly unsettling, to hear big claps of thunder and then the silence of snow falling.
I'll keep you posted. There probably won't be any more snow pics, though, because you know - you've seen one blizzard, you've seen em all.
sigh.
Love! Winter! Still!
Not drunk!
dRunK bLogGing roX
Thank you, Tamara. Thank you for leaving behind half a bottle of Pinot. Because today? Sucked. Without going into all the nit-picky details of how my day sucked, let me just say that here is the icing on the cake, people: Tomorrow, we are expected to have a storm that might EQUAL OR SURPASS the storm last week. Yeah, the one that left us trapped in our houses for days, turning our brains to mush and our vehicles to mud-covered not-new-anymore messes on wheels.
did I mention i was a little drunk? It's about damn time. well, except for Christmas Eve with the Dupuy's... that was kind of drunk too. But you know, I have to say Pinot is a lot smoother than Beaujolais (major sp - sorry, drunk).
anyway. going to bed now, fully expecting to wake up to not a winter wonderland, but a nice pretty layer of snow over the 10-feet-high piles of black snow in every parking lot as far as the eye can see. Good times.
I love colorado! I still do!
drujnk.
did I mention i was a little drunk? It's about damn time. well, except for Christmas Eve with the Dupuy's... that was kind of drunk too. But you know, I have to say Pinot is a lot smoother than Beaujolais (major sp - sorry, drunk).
anyway. going to bed now, fully expecting to wake up to not a winter wonderland, but a nice pretty layer of snow over the 10-feet-high piles of black snow in every parking lot as far as the eye can see. Good times.
I love colorado! I still do!
drujnk.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Snug
Today I am recovering from the holidays and preparing to go back to work tomorrow - a week after the blizzard. I finally uploaded some pictures to share. Behold. Jess embraces the lovesac:
Evidence that Jess went out on the balcony to check out the white stuff, then performed a quick about-face and came back inside:
View from my living room:
And finally, One Happy Cat by the Fire:
More good stuff to come...
Evidence that Jess went out on the balcony to check out the white stuff, then performed a quick about-face and came back inside:
View from my living room:
And finally, One Happy Cat by the Fire:
More good stuff to come...
Friday, December 22, 2006
Cabin fever
So I'm not *quite* ready to gnaw off my own arm to escape, but I'm getting close. My office was closed again today and will be closed tomorrow, as well -- the streets probably won't be clear until after the weekend. So this working from home thing... while nice sometimes, I've decided I would go batshit crazee if I never had the office interaction. I was actually DISAPPOINTED to find out that work was cancelled again tomorrow. Not that I'm not working; and therein lies the other problem. I can't turn it off when I'm working at home all day. It is almost 1am and I am still checking my work email -- and still getting messages. It seems I'm not the only crazy person on a weird schedule due to days of weirdness.
I'm not having nearly as much fun in the snow as my sis down in S. Denver -- they spent the day shoveling tunnels through the cul-de-sac so they could walk around and the kids could build huge snow structures with the piled snow. Um, apartments suck in situations like this -- we're all just bundled into our little pods, alone and b-o-r-e-d. sigh.
Jess is slowly turning from grey to black from sleeping in front of the fire going on 36 hours now. Piper has made a dent in the laundry pile on my bed and is somewhere in there. I am camped on the couch, close to the tv, the kitchen, and the laptop.
So nothing exciting going on, just more being trapped in the house. I might see if I can get out a little tomorrow, if the apt. complex has plowed the roads a bit. I have my new AWD vehicle and while not magic, it will be great driving in this type of weather. But let me emphasize again, not magic. Six-feet-tall snow drifts? Um, no. I'll wait it out, thank you very much.
I'm not having nearly as much fun in the snow as my sis down in S. Denver -- they spent the day shoveling tunnels through the cul-de-sac so they could walk around and the kids could build huge snow structures with the piled snow. Um, apartments suck in situations like this -- we're all just bundled into our little pods, alone and b-o-r-e-d. sigh.
Jess is slowly turning from grey to black from sleeping in front of the fire going on 36 hours now. Piper has made a dent in the laundry pile on my bed and is somewhere in there. I am camped on the couch, close to the tv, the kitchen, and the laptop.
So nothing exciting going on, just more being trapped in the house. I might see if I can get out a little tomorrow, if the apt. complex has plowed the roads a bit. I have my new AWD vehicle and while not magic, it will be great driving in this type of weather. But let me emphasize again, not magic. Six-feet-tall snow drifts? Um, no. I'll wait it out, thank you very much.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Blizzard.
As I feel a veritable blizzard of emotions... HA! You thought I was going to be all serious again! But, no.
One word, people: Blizzard. As in, SNOW. As in, almost 24 hours now and still going strong. At least two feet. Everything closed down, including the highways and the airport; the mall, across the street from where I live? Being used as a shelter for stranded motorists. Abandoned cars all up and down the roads. The governor has declared a state of emergency. Yee-hawww, it's ChristmasTime!!!
I am thoroughly enjoying the storm. I am snug in my apartment with a fireplace and two cuddly cats. I have spent the day in my nest working on my laptop and staring out the windows. I am fine on food, so the only thing bugging me at this point is -- damn, I'm bored. But in a good way... Looks like tomorrow is going to be like today, maybe worse since it's not going to get above freezing or stop snowing for another day or so.
My spirit will not be broken -- I still love Colorado. And damn, nothing like a metaphorical slate being wiped metaphorically clean by a 48-hour BLIZZARD..........
One word, people: Blizzard. As in, SNOW. As in, almost 24 hours now and still going strong. At least two feet. Everything closed down, including the highways and the airport; the mall, across the street from where I live? Being used as a shelter for stranded motorists. Abandoned cars all up and down the roads. The governor has declared a state of emergency. Yee-hawww, it's ChristmasTime!!!
I am thoroughly enjoying the storm. I am snug in my apartment with a fireplace and two cuddly cats. I have spent the day in my nest working on my laptop and staring out the windows. I am fine on food, so the only thing bugging me at this point is -- damn, I'm bored. But in a good way... Looks like tomorrow is going to be like today, maybe worse since it's not going to get above freezing or stop snowing for another day or so.
My spirit will not be broken -- I still love Colorado. And damn, nothing like a metaphorical slate being wiped metaphorically clean by a 48-hour BLIZZARD..........
Monday, December 18, 2006
Hollow
I ache. In my center, in my throat, in the back of my head. The ache of suppressed feelings, of just trying to get through the day. And yet, this is so insignificant in the face of so many other things. I think about how it felt to lose someone I really, truly loved. And as much as that hurt, I wanted that person to be happy, so that brought me some peace. In this case, I can think nothing but venomous thoughts, rage coursing through my veins, an ache in my throat becoming almost unbearable until some of it leaks out and rolls slowly, hotly, down my cheeks – then I can be calm again. Until the next song, the next movie, the next flashback memory. Some not so long ago. But still, it is not a broken heart. It is simply a sadness. More wasted time. More damage from which to recover, more baggage to lug. So much fucking baggage. I should be svelte from lugging all that shit around.
So I cuss, and I deny, and I suppress, and I fervently write angry unsendable emails to release venom and maintain my appearance of cool. To get through the day.
I think more than the actual facts, what’s hurting me are the other memories that are flooding back. Past broken hearts, broken for real. Shattered and taped back together, only to be shattered again – that’s my heart. This is merely bruising, not the real thing. And although bruises hurt, too, I don’t think your heart can ever hurt as much as it can at 18, when you’re desperately in love with someone who has to go away, someone who comes back different, no longer alone. What they say about first love is so true. I will never be that vulnerable again. Only once can someone be so naïve and open as to allow themselves to hurt that much. Only the young, only that first time.
Now I’m grizzled, with duct tape holding my heart together. Having lived through several false loves and one true love, then falling into the rut of a barren, hollow love. I’ve never been good with endings. I like to always have a glimmer of “what if” hanging out there, but sometimes shit happens and you know that that glimmer is truly gone, gone for good. That is the hardest thing for me. Finality.
I’ve been reading a blog since November, written by a young father whose young, healthy wife became suddenly ill and was dead within 5 days – and they still don’t know why. Reading through his process, his grief, his shock, the phases of his acceptance, it is amazing. Simply amazing. I am so aware that I have not lost, not really. This man began blogging for himself, to prevent himself from exploding (and I sure do know about THAT), and he has gained so much support he never expected, never dreamed of. He has touched so many lives in the telling of his story. In the face of his loss and the loss of his children, I feel blessed. I really do.
Blessed and angry.
Sad and relieved.
Finally.
So I cuss, and I deny, and I suppress, and I fervently write angry unsendable emails to release venom and maintain my appearance of cool. To get through the day.
I think more than the actual facts, what’s hurting me are the other memories that are flooding back. Past broken hearts, broken for real. Shattered and taped back together, only to be shattered again – that’s my heart. This is merely bruising, not the real thing. And although bruises hurt, too, I don’t think your heart can ever hurt as much as it can at 18, when you’re desperately in love with someone who has to go away, someone who comes back different, no longer alone. What they say about first love is so true. I will never be that vulnerable again. Only once can someone be so naïve and open as to allow themselves to hurt that much. Only the young, only that first time.
Now I’m grizzled, with duct tape holding my heart together. Having lived through several false loves and one true love, then falling into the rut of a barren, hollow love. I’ve never been good with endings. I like to always have a glimmer of “what if” hanging out there, but sometimes shit happens and you know that that glimmer is truly gone, gone for good. That is the hardest thing for me. Finality.
I’ve been reading a blog since November, written by a young father whose young, healthy wife became suddenly ill and was dead within 5 days – and they still don’t know why. Reading through his process, his grief, his shock, the phases of his acceptance, it is amazing. Simply amazing. I am so aware that I have not lost, not really. This man began blogging for himself, to prevent himself from exploding (and I sure do know about THAT), and he has gained so much support he never expected, never dreamed of. He has touched so many lives in the telling of his story. In the face of his loss and the loss of his children, I feel blessed. I really do.
Blessed and angry.
Sad and relieved.
Finally.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
uncomfortably numb
The more it sinks in, the less I am aware of taking air into my lungs. When she first told me, I was oddly ambivalent. I felt nothing but curiosity. But an hour later, it hit me like a ton of bricks: once again, I had been passed over in favor of someone else. This has happened before. More than once. No matter what rational thoughts I might have had initially, right now all I can think of is how unlovable I must be. Because, seriously. Did I love him? No. Did I think we had a future? Not since 2001, no. But does it hurt that in the two months since I’ve last spoken to him, he’s managed to knock up his ex-girlfriend and propose to her? Why yes, yes it does.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Just let me be
For the past month or so, I've been absorbed in my work, nesting into my apartment, hating my car, sparking my cats -- living life in Colorado. I've been so absorbed, actually, that I've lost track of time and did you know I've been here almost four months??? I know. Me too.
I've been feeling what I can only describe as "meh" lately. It's been bugging me, and I've been trying to figure out what's wrong. Then today I had an epiphany -- nothing is wrong. That's IT. For the first time in many years, I am right where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do at this moment. It could all change next week, or 10 years from now, who knows. But for right this moment, I am -- dare I say -- content. Only I could mistake content for meh.
So here's the thing, people: I don't know what to do with myself. I can't just relax and be happy because I never have and I don't know how. Aren't I supposed to be striving toward something? Always looking to upgrade my life, whether it's a job, a house, a car, even a state? I don't. know. what. to. do. omg.
Why is it so hard to just be? Why do I feel like I should be doing this, or trying to do that, trying to improve in some way. Improve the contents of my refrigerator, improve my purse, improve my hair. But isn't it okay, sometimes, to just ... stop and relax for a bit? Take some time to sit down and enjoy the view? I've realized that the only person pushing me to feel something or be something different is myself.
I do of course have long-term goals. But for now? I'm going to try and settle into this new life I've begun for myself. The only thing that could make it better right now, besides coercing all the people I love to move to Denver? A cruise. Right. Now. A cruise would be good --- although -- is that not what I'm doing?
I've been feeling what I can only describe as "meh" lately. It's been bugging me, and I've been trying to figure out what's wrong. Then today I had an epiphany -- nothing is wrong. That's IT. For the first time in many years, I am right where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do at this moment. It could all change next week, or 10 years from now, who knows. But for right this moment, I am -- dare I say -- content. Only I could mistake content for meh.
So here's the thing, people: I don't know what to do with myself. I can't just relax and be happy because I never have and I don't know how. Aren't I supposed to be striving toward something? Always looking to upgrade my life, whether it's a job, a house, a car, even a state? I don't. know. what. to. do. omg.
Why is it so hard to just be? Why do I feel like I should be doing this, or trying to do that, trying to improve in some way. Improve the contents of my refrigerator, improve my purse, improve my hair. But isn't it okay, sometimes, to just ... stop and relax for a bit? Take some time to sit down and enjoy the view? I've realized that the only person pushing me to feel something or be something different is myself.
I do of course have long-term goals. But for now? I'm going to try and settle into this new life I've begun for myself. The only thing that could make it better right now, besides coercing all the people I love to move to Denver? A cruise. Right. Now. A cruise would be good --- although -- is that not what I'm doing?
Weird things happen when it’s cold.
What kinds of weird things? Well, things like:
• Massive amounts of static electricity, whenever/whatever I touch, including the cats. I pet Piper when I got up during the night the other night and it looked like fireflies were scurrying around under her fur, with all the sparks that were flying. Question: Can a kitty catch fire from the sparks caused by static electricity? I need to find out. Could be bad. Also, the cats can do it themselves; I’ve seen them bump wet noses only to hear a “pop” before they both lurch backwards. Poor babies.
• Previously creamy and dewy skin turning into scales.
• Three-year-old, previously reliable cars refusing to start. And requiring two new batteries in the past two months.
• Former shop-a-holics wanting to rush straight home after work (it gets dark at 4:30 here), not even wanting to run a single errand -- just anxious to get home and into fleece.
So, yeah. But! Despite all, I am loving the weather. You know you’re in the right place when hearing the words, “BIG warm-up later this week – highs in the 50s!” on the morning news makes you unspeakably giddy. Also, when it’s 30 degrees outside and you don’t wear a coat – not because you’re impaired, but because it simply doesn’t feel THAT cold to you – in fact, it feels comfortable. And now that you think about it, you realize that the heat blowing inside your office is making you sweat and you kind of hate it.
• Massive amounts of static electricity, whenever/whatever I touch, including the cats. I pet Piper when I got up during the night the other night and it looked like fireflies were scurrying around under her fur, with all the sparks that were flying. Question: Can a kitty catch fire from the sparks caused by static electricity? I need to find out. Could be bad. Also, the cats can do it themselves; I’ve seen them bump wet noses only to hear a “pop” before they both lurch backwards. Poor babies.
• Previously creamy and dewy skin turning into scales.
• Three-year-old, previously reliable cars refusing to start. And requiring two new batteries in the past two months.
• Former shop-a-holics wanting to rush straight home after work (it gets dark at 4:30 here), not even wanting to run a single errand -- just anxious to get home and into fleece.
So, yeah. But! Despite all, I am loving the weather. You know you’re in the right place when hearing the words, “BIG warm-up later this week – highs in the 50s!” on the morning news makes you unspeakably giddy. Also, when it’s 30 degrees outside and you don’t wear a coat – not because you’re impaired, but because it simply doesn’t feel THAT cold to you – in fact, it feels comfortable. And now that you think about it, you realize that the heat blowing inside your office is making you sweat and you kind of hate it.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Stress in its purest form: 700 words and thick ice.
The pace of today has been on par with the slippery-ness of the ice packed down on the sidewalks and less-traveled roads (e.g. my route to work). It snowed yesterday, and while the news reported my area got 4 1/2 inches, I beg to differ; I set my coke can down on someone’s snowy hood, to see how deep it was, and it sank well below the snow level until I had to dig it out again. So, deep. I love it, except for the ice part; this is the first time this season that it’s snowed and then stayed below freezing for more than a day. Yesterday the high was something like 15. No worries, I worked from home in front of the fire, but today was almost worse, though the main roads have been cleared. At least my car thought so; it is dead again. The brand new battery I bought about six weeks ago is completely out of juice, for whatever reason. I’ve about had it. I might get the dealer to replace it and then go trade the whole car in for something new and shiny. Something with AWD, that won’t slip around as much on ice-packed snow. Something that smells pretty and makes my heart beat faster every morning when I slide inside and buckle up. Oh, the thrill of my 7-minute commute, in a new car. It is going to ROCK.
Anyway… I didn’t have time to deal with the dead car today as AAA was backed up, and I’m off tomorrow anyway, so I bummed a ride to work, as I will home, and will deal with it tomorrow. In the meantime, between now (4:00pm) and the morning, I have a 4-page brochure to write. Yes. Thus my comment about the pace. The prospect is making my stomach hurt, but I tend to work well under extreme pressure, so Pulitzer baby, HERE I COME!!! Haha! Ha. ha…
Jess has spent an unhealthy amount of time stretched out two inches from the fire, all four feet touching the hot metal grate, tail lazily flicking as his insides slowly bake to a crisp. Crispy kitty.
that is all.
Anyway… I didn’t have time to deal with the dead car today as AAA was backed up, and I’m off tomorrow anyway, so I bummed a ride to work, as I will home, and will deal with it tomorrow. In the meantime, between now (4:00pm) and the morning, I have a 4-page brochure to write. Yes. Thus my comment about the pace. The prospect is making my stomach hurt, but I tend to work well under extreme pressure, so Pulitzer baby, HERE I COME!!! Haha! Ha. ha…
Jess has spent an unhealthy amount of time stretched out two inches from the fire, all four feet touching the hot metal grate, tail lazily flicking as his insides slowly bake to a crisp. Crispy kitty.
that is all.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
post (and pre?) holiday blues
I'm trying to determine where my Sunday night went wrong. Although I guess given the circumstances, it was doomed -- last day of 4-day weekend and all. But my Sunday in general was good; very relaxing, semi-productive around the house, recharging after the holiday and such; but I've figured it out. What went wrong was Brokeback Mountain. Yeah, i finally caught it on HBO and man was it depressing. I don't even know that I liked it that much or understand why Heath Ledger got nominated for best actor (did he win?); it was simply haunting, tragic, and depressing. Bleah. Everything has been downhill from there.
Like what, you ask? Like my discovery of the unopened jar of roasted peanuts in the pantry, the one I bought for my dad and meant to take to my sister's. But forgot. That one. Also, too much Crystal Light? Is not a good thing. It is NOT the same as water, people. I'll leave it at that. TV has also sucked tonight. After the incredible Brokeback downer, an episode of the shockingly violent and raw series "The Wire" came on HBO. If you've never seen it? Make sure you're in a darn good mood when you do. But a good mood you're perhaps annoyed with, and ready to squelch. Then, knock yourself out.
All of this to say I am more bummed than usual on a Sunday night. It's the end of a 4-day weekend, the gorge-fest that was Thanksgiving, spending time with family, sleeping in for a few days, and now...back to normal. EXCEPT. Except for that pesky day coming up where you buy all the gifts? That one. Yes, that one. We're in the homestretch, the super-sonic-fast-crazy-stressful last month leading up to one single day that will surely be anticlimactic. It has been since I stopped believing in Santa. And did I mention that I don't get to go home this year?
However. I did put up a tiny tree today, decorating it with some ornaments I've collected over the past couple of years and forgot about since I've been Scrooge for, oh, three years now. So yeah, it's only 4-feet high and I give it maybe half a day of unsupervision before the cats eat it, but still.
fa-la-la-la-la
lala
la
la.
Like what, you ask? Like my discovery of the unopened jar of roasted peanuts in the pantry, the one I bought for my dad and meant to take to my sister's. But forgot. That one. Also, too much Crystal Light? Is not a good thing. It is NOT the same as water, people. I'll leave it at that. TV has also sucked tonight. After the incredible Brokeback downer, an episode of the shockingly violent and raw series "The Wire" came on HBO. If you've never seen it? Make sure you're in a darn good mood when you do. But a good mood you're perhaps annoyed with, and ready to squelch. Then, knock yourself out.
All of this to say I am more bummed than usual on a Sunday night. It's the end of a 4-day weekend, the gorge-fest that was Thanksgiving, spending time with family, sleeping in for a few days, and now...back to normal. EXCEPT. Except for that pesky day coming up where you buy all the gifts? That one. Yes, that one. We're in the homestretch, the super-sonic-fast-crazy-stressful last month leading up to one single day that will surely be anticlimactic. It has been since I stopped believing in Santa. And did I mention that I don't get to go home this year?
However. I did put up a tiny tree today, decorating it with some ornaments I've collected over the past couple of years and forgot about since I've been Scrooge for, oh, three years now. So yeah, it's only 4-feet high and I give it maybe half a day of unsupervision before the cats eat it, but still.
fa-la-la-la-la
lala
la
la.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
all about nothing
As I sit in my nest, halfway watching Intervention, taking more pictures of Jess I will not get around to downloading or uploading, my fireplace on and my window cracked, suddenly and unexpectedly the fragrance of fried chicken wafts seductively into the room. It takes me a few minutes to identify the sweetness, and then it starts: the foreign craving for fried chicken. I can honestly say I have not had fried chicken in years. I don't know how many years. But suddenly, I totally want it. Now.
Awww look, the meth head just agreed to go to treatment.
But back to the fried chicken. Holy CRAP did that smell good. I am really looking forward to Thanksgiving tomorrow at my sister’s house; my parents are in town and my sis and her husband are going to cook a delightful Thanksgiving spread for us. What this means to me, besides family bonding time, is REAL FOOD. Oh, how I miss real food. The only time I get it is at sistah's, and thank you very much sistah! I don’t cook, and I have yet to find anywhere really good to eat around here. So I survive on Lean Cuisines, soup, sandwiches, and other random odds and ends I pull from my cupboard. Yeah, and sometimes, um, pizza. And noodles. And.........never mind.
shut up.
So here we go again, deep into a blog post that started off with a point and has now degenerated into boring muck. Why does this keep happening lately??
Rather than prattle on, I'm going to end it. Why beat a dead horse? Not tonight, anyway. Happy Thanksgiving ---- wait-----------we're at the END of November????????
Whoa.
Awww look, the meth head just agreed to go to treatment.
But back to the fried chicken. Holy CRAP did that smell good. I am really looking forward to Thanksgiving tomorrow at my sister’s house; my parents are in town and my sis and her husband are going to cook a delightful Thanksgiving spread for us. What this means to me, besides family bonding time, is REAL FOOD. Oh, how I miss real food. The only time I get it is at sistah's, and thank you very much sistah! I don’t cook, and I have yet to find anywhere really good to eat around here. So I survive on Lean Cuisines, soup, sandwiches, and other random odds and ends I pull from my cupboard. Yeah, and sometimes, um, pizza. And noodles. And.........never mind.
shut up.
So here we go again, deep into a blog post that started off with a point and has now degenerated into boring muck. Why does this keep happening lately??
Rather than prattle on, I'm going to end it. Why beat a dead horse? Not tonight, anyway. Happy Thanksgiving ---- wait-----------we're at the END of November????????
Whoa.
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