Nervous November

It's been a long time, and it seems like I've been stockpiling things to be nervous about. I'm feeling like the worry-meter is about to go into the red, which means it's time to vent some troubles before I pull out my hair and run screaming into the night. Or something.

(And I apologize, internet, if you're there - for being a bad weather type friend when it comes to writing. And then just writing about how I feel bad about it.)

What's weighing heaviest on my mind right now is family. The Holidaze are coming up, and it seems like every year for the last - I don't know, at least 4-5 years? - something messed up happens, usually involving my brother, which sort of puts a damper on things. Did I mention he's in prison now? He went in around this time last year, and will be getting out right before Thanksgiving. And apparently, will be heading to our town (it's where both my mom and I are located, but not where he was living previously.) I guess that shouldn't necessarily sound ominous, he's not a violent criminal, but I'm feeling very uneasy about it nonetheless. He won't have probation from what I understand, and I don't necessarily think that's a good thing. I have a bad feeling that his ideas about where his life will go now are *shrug* and "I'll just show up and see what happens."

My mom has agreed to take him in, but for a short time only, and sounds like she's in tough-love mode. I mean, he is 35, and has pretty much put her through hell for the last... well, she estimated 20 years. But she has a one bedroom apartment, and I have a house. Granted, we don't have an extra bed or a guest room set up, but I'm just trying to prepare myself if people start looking my way like "Why couldn't you take him in?" I feel really shitty for feeling this way, but I just don't think I can. When I see my brother (which is rare) I usually end up feeling like I need to take care of him, but mostly I've kept my distance. At this point, I honestly don't think I'd be comfortable having him stay over or even having much alone time with him. I'm not feeling too good about him staying with my mom, either.

Are there, or have there been people in your life that you just can't be around because the dynamic is too dysfunctional? I feel like the general consensus is that it's never okay to break ties with family, or stop communicating. I haven't written to him since he's been incarcerated, though I did send money a couple times, because honestly I felt horrible thinking about him being in there, but also didn't know what to say to him (and I guess I still don't.) I somehow don't think that the time in there will have necessarily scared him straight or cured him, I can only imagine that you go into survival mode while there and hopefully don't have an even more warped, hateful outlook afterward.

What makes me feel bad is that he's getting out, he's supposed to get integrated back into society, but he has nothing. He actually has negative nothing when you consider that: he owes back child support (not to mention parental support), he's burned too many bridges with family and friends, he's got addiction/behavior/emotional issues, he's had cancer and related treatments and there's always ongoing health concerns with that, his track record is going to look pretty bad to just about any employer, he hasn't had a car or a place of his own in who knows how long, etc. etc. Maybe not having people to fall back on will be what changes him? But don't you hear about these people and think, "Damn, can't his family or somebody do something about that for society's sake?" But even though we all feel bad about it, what I've learned from what my parents have been through, is that we can't fix it for him. They have certainly tried. Given the circumstances, I think it's understandable that there's a lot of hurt and mistrust. But there's also the GUILT of turning away, so... what do you do?

Read between the lines or some other cliche

A while back I mentioned that things had been uncomfortable at [the place where I spend a good deal of my daytime hours] and I didn't know for sure if it was something I did, or if someone just happened to be distant and pissy near the general vicinity that I was in. For like, 3 or 4 months. Now I think that maybe I should've just taken the "ask me what's wrong" bait a long time ago.

Long story short: I thought something was wrong, and it was! Or, it is!

There are positives to consider. I haven't been fired. (Yet?) But no more salary and my hours are being cut to part-time (ouch). Of course part-time also means no vacation or sick time and no health insurance (the real kicker). Well, ok - the real kicker is that even though things have been awkward for quite some time, I assumed that an issue with my job performance would've been brought up previously. This change is stated as being a result of my lack of development and such (not even blaming the economy) - this is from the note (that was apparently attorney advised), of course - as there's been very little discussion and really, the discussion we did have just made it worse and errgh... I'm getting fired up again. I probably shouldn't get into the whole thing here (not that I don't feel like venting, obvs) but - this could've been handled much better. Then again, I've thought that about several things the last 6 years that I've been here. While I can admit that I'm certainly not without my shortcomings - as an employee and otherwise, I'd also been given nothing but praise up until the last few months. That's a bad thing about small - very small - business, it's harder to make the line between personal and professional more distinct. You get treated more like family, but that family might very well be dysfunctional.

So, even though there are choices to make, they all seem to come back to it being time to move on. That shouldn't be so tough, right? (Well, uh - terrible job market/economy aside.) I mean, I haven't exactly been happy either. But the urge to cling to what is familiar, even if it's not in my best interest, is very strong. I've stepped up my game, now that I know where I need to improve - but I'm not sure if that's even what's wanted from me at this point. (I kind of think I might just be here right now so he could still take his vacation.) There's this whole "I'm only talking to you hastily so you can't get a word in edgewise as I'm walking out the door" thing going on. Not that it's that much different than it has been. Ugh.

The thought of interviewing makes me sort of want to throw up. Although, staying here and just waiting for the other shoe to drop, or feeling like I'm only being kept on out of some condescending kind of pity or convenience or whatever... well, that also makes me want to throw up.

Next up: Will I manage to find not only a career, but the appropriate career wear, without having a(nother) meltdown?

Save as draft

I keep trying to write something, but when I'm feeling really down I'm more likely to tell myself to shut-up and not publish that. But if everyone did that, I wouldn't have anything to read. Blah blah, I need to write about being self-critical but I'm too self-critical to do it!

Here's an attempt from earlier in the week:

****
You guys, I may have figured something out.

Almost all of the problems in my life seem to come back to one thing: self-worth, or lack thereof.

So, problem identified. Main cause of my depression, fear, emptiness, jealousy, relationship problems, bad decisions, lack of achievements, addictive behaviors, etc. I've had enough to get by, but not enough to really want better things for myself, or think that I deserve them and could actually have them. That sucks. I want and need to be able to depend on myself, and other people need that from me. I'm worried that when things go wrong, I don't even have my own back. I want to be good at something, have some sort of purpose and I don't know what that is.

****

I added that to the "too depressing" drafts. Of course, I haven't figured things all out since then but I'm at least feeling more on the upswing and less like everything is crushing me and I can't talk about it 'cause no one will understand. But sometimes getting the thoughts - however crappy - out is the answer. You know?

So, back to the thoughts of the nervous variety.

I'm so weird around people these days. After so many years in customer service, it seemed like I had overcome my shyness, but maybe it was only in remission. I'll see someone I know at a store and instinctively want to hide and avoid them - even when it's someone I like and wouldn't mind talking with. I think it's that I can place so much importance on interactions that I'm setting it up to be awkward. Don't let them see that you want friends! Don't linger too long! Stop being such a dork! Most of the women I've met in recent years have been through J knowing their husbands, and I'm still embarrassed that the last one I met I awkwardly hugged before leaving and that may have been a bit forward. "Hi! We made chit chat once and you seem pretty cool, therefore INCOMING HUG-BOMB GRRLFRIEND!" Oh well.

Oh, speaking of awkward hugs - I think I picked up being huggy from a couple of incredibly sweet wannabe hippie friends from highschool. (Incidentally, I also picked up smoking pot from them. Weed and hugs! And doodling! Those were the times.) But looking back, I think I could've used more discretion with my hugginess, especially with dudes. I remember going to Dunkin' Donuts (probably high or about to be) to pick up some donuts on my way to my boyfriend's house, and after I paid and was about to leave, the little guy behind the counter in a thick Indian(?) accent asked quietly "Miss? Can I have a hug?" and it just threw me off guard, but I was all "sure, yeah". And he just came around the counter and held me very tightly for a moment and said thank you and that was that. Could've been a potentially creepy situation (I think there was only one other person in the store, working in the back), but it was totally fine. On the other hand, there was a time after hanging out with a guy friend that I never would've felt threatened by, that turned into this crushing hug of steel that WOULD NOT END. And there was heavy breathing and a sweatpants boner involved and it was just bad. Hugs, people. They can go either way. If you have a story of inappropriate/badly timed hugging - on your part or otherwise, please tell me!

On a blog note: hey, Blogger added some new templates. I wonder if most people, like me, use a feed reader and don't click over to the blog much anyway. But still, nice to have some other options.

Battlecats (not so much)

Since the weather's been nice, the cats have been spending most of their time getting in prime snoofing positions at one of the windows. (Aside: Have any of you used the window perches that are designed for cats? Reviews are mixed, and it sounds like they may not work properly with the replacement windows we have. But it would be better than having them sit on the kitchen table - we never eat there anyway, but still...) Gracie (pictured) is staying vigilant with her scout duties and once it gets dark out, there have been recurring Tail Poof Alert! situations. While it's incredibly cute to watch her scamper back and forth between the kitchen and living room windows while poofed up to twice her size, something seemed to be really stressing her out. Which led to her hissing, growling and tearing a hole in the window screen (now taped over, all classy-like), which caused Arlo to engage 3x Tail Poof! and make his horribly sad I'm-a-cat-baby "Mow wow wow aaoooow" wail while pacing nervously under the table. And I don't know, I was all worried like there was a raccoon or coyote or a shark out there ready to lunge through the window and eat my cats, but of course couldn't see anything. The next night when Gracie freaked out, I spotted her nemesis - the Anti-Gracie! Which is, a slightly scruffy outdoor version of Gracie sitting there all like "Hey indoor cat! I'm in yr yard, scopin yr birdeez!" And sure, I'm probably putting too much thought into cat behavior, but does this cat want to make cat friends? Just likes our yard? Likes to taunt our cats? Wants to be #1 Gray Cat in the 'hood? The odd thing is that when we had Jonesey, he had a similarly-colored doppelganger cat who would come by and stare at him, too. Woooeeeoooh! Also, I found it odd that Arlo - who seems more of the dominant cat in the house and likes to start shit with Gracie - resorted to crying while Gracie seemed ready to fight. I guess if another cat shows up who looks like Arlo but with a goatee (that's how you know he's the evil one) then he'll be ready to throw down.

Where to go from there

I've got some bad thoughts weighing me down, and they would be easier to brush off if it was just my silly anxiety/worrying thing that I do. But what gives me that sinking, hopeless feeling is stuff that really has truth to it (I've disappointed everyone around me, I'm so afraid of dying that I'm not really living, It's not just that I think I'm fucked up - other people see it too, What good am I, etc.) Everyone has their issues, plenty of people have much MUCH harder stuff to deal with, but I get to that point where I feel as if everything is so royally fucked up by my own doing or not bothering to do that I can't think of a person who is more worthless. And I don't know where to go from there except to cry. (I know, drama queen much?) I keep thinking that I really need someone to talk to, or you know, I could at least be a better friend to myself if I'm gonna be alone all the time. And it's not like I'm never happy, I just have a hard time leveling, I guess. I can surround myself with little comforts (been a bit over-spendy lately - more on that later), but I feel like I'm grasping the air for a truly comforting thought to keep me grounded at times like this.

Eggshells

Well, it's probably an ill-advised way to come back to the blog, but things have been quite uncomfortable at [an area where I spend a good deal of my day to day time] and I need to get these thoughts out.

Let's say there's someone in your proximity who appears to be upset. And it's a long-lasting kind of upset. A huffy-puffy, deeply sighing, drawer-slamming, muttering obscenities to themselves kind of upset. And this upset seems to have coincided with reduced talking and niceties in your direction. If you are a reasonable and mature person, you probably would just ask the person what's wrong, right? But if you're nervous and underconfident like me, you have to think it to death first. Let's explore the possibilities.
- The problem is with me and I should realize that and what I've done wrong and apologize for it. Shit. (The problem with facing up to this scenario is that in trying to think of what caused this, I've created a whole list of irritating things I could've done recently, and don't exactly want to call attention to those items if they are not in fact the source of irritation.)
- The problem is with me, but it's mostly a general annoyance that can't be narrowed down to a specific incident. Said person is simply fed up with having to act nicey-nice with me on a daily basis and is choosing to be distant instead of confrontational. (Hey, I can certainly be irritating and moody and not fun to be around myself. I also was thinking that sometimes I think I'm being just as snarky and sarcastic as the next guy, when it actually comes off as really cold and bitchy and I hurt someone's feelings. Eesh.)
- The problem is a general one, a lot of stressful crap going on at the same time, etc. I am just one of many irritants on the shitlist right now and should proceed with caution and in the nicest way possible.
- The problem is a general one, etc. and it's not even about me! Does everything have to be about me?

So... it's been awkward. My attempts at niceties have been deflected, so I'm trying to just be politely quiet and hope that it blows over soon. BUT, is said person just waiting for me to ask what's up? I'm afraid to, honestly. The only good thing (if it even is good) about this is that I'm taking note of how sucky it is for the other person when I act this way and should avoid this happening in the future. I have certainly done my share of being Princess Pissy McSighing Pants in my time, and usually the culprit is that I am upset with someone but have no rational/healthy/productive way of dealing with it, and well, it's a pretty passive/aggressive behavior. If I was just upset in general, I would probably just be giving the vibe that I wanted to be left alone. But I don't know! I don't know what other people think and I obviously spend too much time guessing!

What about you? Are you prone to crabby silences? Are you the one who nips these things in the bud? Am I a bigger jackass than I thought?

A new week, a new month, and finally a new blog post

Hey! We made it through February (one of my worst months, mood-wise) and now seems like as good a time as any to get back to the old blog.

I've been doing real important-like stuff, such as:

• Getting hooked on and watching 5 seasons of LOST (love you streaming Netflix!), so I could get caught up and watch Season 6 in real time without having to avoid the internet/spoilers. But guess what? Watching a show like this as it airs SUCKS - with the waiting, I mean. Ohhh they are going to drag it out, and I want to know NOW! Next episode, please! I will try not to go on and on about it, but please excuse me if I go all LOSTified on you because I have no one to talk about it with, though I do keep commenting aloud to Justin - who is sitting in the office and doesn't watch the show - things like "Wwwhat? Gaahhh! Noooo!" or fun facts like "Hey, that's the fifth person from Deadwood that's been on this show!" It's a good series to get immers- no, wait for it - lost in *snort/eyeroll*, but I hope this final season starts getting a little more satisfying.
• Reading more, or well, trying to actually complete more books that I check out from the library. My attention span gets pretty bad sometimes, and in combination with having a run of bad luck with books that just aren't... engaging enough for me at the time, I've been reading but haven't had a good can't-put-it-down book in a while. Do you give books 100 pages before you give up if you're not interested or disappointed by that point? Or are you in it til the end? I did join Goodreads, (along with my less-updated account at LibraryThing) so that should help with future recommendations, feel free to give me a holla if you're tracking your reads there too.
• Taking comfort in smells and beauty products. I tend to go a little smell-crazy during the winter and feel like hoarding lotions, scrubs, shampoos, etc. even more than usual. Probably because things smell better to me during winter when pollen-type allergies aren't in full force. This winter I've been digging my Bath & Body Works Aromatherapy favorites, all in the "Sleep" line - Milk & Honey (which they totally could've called Spiced Tea in my opinion), Black Chamomile (which smells different every time I use it, but is comforting and even a little sexy, also somewhat unisex smelling) and the favorite of most, Lavender Vanilla. I also had to pick up the new Sandalwood & Fig lotion from the Sensuality line, because I'm a big fan of most things sandalwood, and most things aromatherapy. The Sandalwood & Fig is a bit fruitier than I expected, but calms down quickly and has a nice lingering after-smell once it's absorbed (that probably smells different on everyone, so it should be sampled first). It's not everything I hoped for, and is a bit reminiscent of their Black Currant & Vanilla (also in the Sensuality line, and also doesn't quite smell like it's name) only with a soft sandalwood note instead of the stronger patchouli, but I like this the longer I wear it - although it would probably be too sweet for warmer weather. I also give an honorable mention to the True Blue Spa Sweet Fig & Argan lotion, which really doesn't seem that sweet or figgy, it's more of a spicy, incensey, Aveda-type smell that would probably be way too strong for summer but is nice and warm for this time of year. And when I'm not smelling things? I'm reading about fancier smelly things and imagining how they smell and debating about buying them (and thinking OMG, how do people afford these fancy $100-200 perfumes? And lots of them?) Must have steady flow of new smelly things, have smelled everything at B&BW, time to expand my horizons! So I ordered some (affordable!) perfume samples and will probably talk about them once they're in my eager hands, though it might just be "Me likey smelly! Smell gooood!"
  

I'm sure there's been more going on, but I guess I've mostly been taking comfort in the little things and trying not to let the winter SADness and anxiety take over, and am starting to feel a bit more - dare I say normal? - these days.

Have also been followed around and talked to a lot by Arlo who has a steady supply of two flavors of kibbies, treats, nip, toys, shower-lickins, another cat to play with, lots of pettings and scroungings but is still perpetually BORED. He looks in my eyes, and reaches up to tap tap me on the leg (which is cute until he stretches and digs his claws in) and mrow-wows repeatedly like he's trying to tell me something. What is it, kitteh? I toss him a toy and he's all "Play time! Fun! Oh, wait nevermind. Counting down, ten seconds until BORED!")

So much in common

Who's fuzzy and gray? Who's got a pooch belly and an attitude? Who demands attention but can't be held for too long without the claws coming out? Who needs a good snorgling? Aww. Yes you doooo. Who sometimes needs a little help cleaning her-- alright, enough with the similarities.



Who needs to write a real post? Whooo? Yessss, yes she does!

He totally said "there will be snacks"

Well... farts. I don't write, don't call, don't blog, don't even talk that much these days. But I want to. Living all cooped up inside my head is cool and all, but lonely. And repetitive.

I've been baking (heh) more lately in hopes that I will eventually create something awesome that I can recreate for some holiday gathering, but my lack of kitchen confidence is sort of holding me back. I look at recipes all the time but then get all lazy and indignant - too many ingredients I don't have around, too many steps, eggs and egg substitute, WTF?! I've been all about baking cookies in previous years, then got into making quick bread type things. (While I feel pretty bleh about bananas, I cannot have banana bread around without snarfing it up. And it's around a lot. SNARF x 12.) So we'll see where this goes. I'm thinking maybe pie.

Sort of speaking of holiday gatherings (I know, I don't want to either), we're thinking of having Thanksgiving at our house again, if other parties are willing. The only problem with this is - oh wait, there's a kind of a bunch of problems, depending on how fretful I feel. The big one is that we have no dishwasher. What we do have is a formerly working dishwasher that is now dead and works as a big dish drying rack / playpen for the cats. I know you're probably saying "Hey dummy, why dontcha just get a new dishwasher?" Which we were going to. But then it appears that the old one is going to be a hassle to get out, as - I probably won't explain this well, but - the ceramic tile comes up higher than the part of floor the dishwasher is on without much of any wiggle room - which looks like it will cause a problem getting the old dishwasher out without breaking some tiles (and there are no extras to be found) or busting the countertop. I don't know. It looks like a pain in the ass, is what I'm trying to get at here. And the nice gentleman at Home Depot warned us that the delivery guys will hook up a new dishwasher, but they're not going to do a lot of screwing around if the old one doesn't come out easily, or if we don't know how to shut off our water before they get there, or if they don't feel like it or something. So we've said "Bah!" as we do a lot of things, and while I signed up for dishpan hands - I'm uh, not too good at keeping up with the dishes. All of this is to say that Thanksgiving generates a lot of dishes, and a lot of people hovering in the kitchen saying "why don't you use your dishwasher, dummies?" and a lot of well-intentioned "helping" which for some reason makes me want to shoo everyone out with a broom. Oh and we don't have a dining room either, so the table is in the kitchen too - and blah blah blah, we'll figure something out I guess.

Oh hey! We went out somewhat recently. To a show! We saw Andrew Bird and St. Vincent! Andrew Bird is... he's really talented, you guys. When I first heard people raving about him and checked out his music, I didn't see what the big deal was. But the more his songs popped up along with artists I liked on Pandora, the more I'd get his whistles stuck in my head or go back and say "Wait, who was that?" and I got hooked. He put on a good show, and I was actually a bit surprised at how down to earth he seemed. I somewhat expected him to be a bit of a stuck up hipster like "Twaah, behold my classical training and nuances..." But he was really cool - I liked how he spoke to the audience and even pointed out mistakes he made in this charming, absent-minded professor type of way. I liked St. Vincent too, and their band paired nicely with Andrew Bird for a few songs. Annie Clark (lead singer) is this beautiful doll of a woman who starts off singing in this soft, lilting almost Tori Amos style voice, and then by the end of the show she's cranking up the distortion and aiming her guitar at the speakers, giving the audience seat-rumblers and making our ears ring. It was pretty sweet all around.

In I Can Never Go Long Without Mentioning the Cats news: they're doing very well, and we are really glad we ended up adopting two. When they're not chasing each other around and knocking shit over while wrestling, they'll pull out one of these and overwhelm us with cuteness.

Shake us free

Lately, all I seem to feel is mad and sad. Tired when I shouldn't be. Unable to explain myself properly. Frustrated. Lonely, yet needing lots of alone time. I should've written the other morning when I was the "up" side of me and not the more commonly seen glum side.

I feel enormously guilty for some of the thoughts I have about my family... That I love them but sometimes find it too painful and/or exhausting to be around them. That I wish I had a few more happy times with my siblings to think of rather than just replaying the fucked-up ones in my mind. That maybe we all have some degree of mental illness or personality disorder. That it could be passed on to the next generation. That my mom tried so hard to prevent her kids from turning out fucked-up, and we still pretty much did anyway. That I used to feel like I could somehow be the one that could make things alright, and now I just feel distant and useless.

This will get too long and late if I get into all of it now, so I'm cutting it short in favor of sleep. Pardon the nighttime sads.

Dude, bro - not cool

So, I know that calling your employer a dick is generally frowned upon, but oops. Sometimes I forget that even if he talks to me like he'd talk to one of his buddies, I should maintain a certain level of well, appropriateness when responding.

BUT.

He was all "Oh, Patrick Swayze died. Pfft, I never liked the guy. Always thought he was gay after that dancin movie."

And I thought that was a shitty thing to say. Shitty in the same way as when Heath Ledger died, and he said "Aww, boo-hoo. Heath Ledger died. What was it, AIDS? He was in that movie about the queers you know."

Ugh. And also, RARRRGH.

But then again, I think he mostly likes to say things to get my goat. (Done!) Being one of those liberals and all, and him being one of those "Hey, aren't I so politically incorrect it is hilarious?" types.

I shouldn't have let it slip, but we were on the phone so he couldn't appreciate my disapproving look or extreme rolling of the eyes.

Divert and repeat

I still feel things, obviously I do. Sometimes more than I'd like to or more than would seem necessary. I've always been labeled as sensitive, but usually in a negative way - too sensitive, overly-sensitive, see also: crybaby, get a grip. But what I've noticed is that I seem to have developed some sort of selective numbness that at times seems more of a reflex than something within my control. Like, I'll be having a conversation with someone, and then I get knocked off guard by them telling me something that I find immensely sad, or something that presses my buttons, or something that hurts my feelings in a way that actually feels like a blow to the chest or gut. I still feel it, but then a numbness kicks in. It's like the fight-or-flight fairy is pulling me out of that moment, saying "La la LAA - we didn't hear that! Ok, we did but we are MOVING RIGHT ALONG. Not gonna think about it now, plenty of time to dwell on that later. Yes, that hurt but it's only a flesh wound, really - don't look at it and make it worse. Just keep moving." And I'm calm, but it's sort of a false calm. Sort of a bad calm, when it comes with knowing that the shelves are stocked with thoughts like these that are just waiting to be revisited later.

Nothing wrong with defense mechanisms to protect yourself in a situation. I guess I'm just taking note that this happens, and like most of my coping mechanisms - it may have become flawed. That is, dealing with things by not really dealing with them. Flipping a switch that says "I am not really here, I'm not really feeling this." I seem to get in the habit of doing things to protect myself in the present moment while not really looking out for myself in the future. And here I am.

Craptain's blog: supplemental

This is going to sound old and persnickety, but doesn't anyone proofread books anymore? The last few times I've bought a new release there have been several typos in it that I just wouldn't expect to see in a professional publication. Doesn't that piss off the author? Or is it the author's fault? (I can just picture a book signing event with some overzealous fan: "Loved your book, but man - that use of 'here' instead of 'hear' on page 22?! What's up with that? No one even re-read the FIRST CHAPTER before it went to print? Weak! Don't even sign it.")

Speaking of books, I just started The Time Traveler's Wife and I hate to seem like I'm jumping on the bandwagon of "they made it into a movie so now it's cool" but I will jump on the bandwagon of "It was a good price and made my order qualify for free shipping on Amazon." I'll probably end up seeing the movie in about 2-3 years, unless I strongly love or hate the book. Most of the time I have a thing about waiting for the hubbub to die down about something before I watch or read it, but then I end up forgetting about it and/or missing the window of caring (i.e. Titanic. Yep, sorry - no one would shut up about it and it's way too late now.) My mom can't BELIEVE that I haven't watched Grey's Anatomy nor have I read anything by Jodi Picoult or Barbara Kingsolver. Eh. Trying to be rebellious, I guess.

There are definite advantages of watching shows after a decent amount of time has passed though. A good example is Battlestar Galactica. Oh my GODS, I'm frakkin' hooked on that show! (Just started Season 3 - no spoilers please!) But if I had to wait an entire week for the next episode or deal with those end of the season cliffhangers I'd go batty. For a while there I avoided science fiction because it tended to make me think about things that would send me into an existential crisis/death freakout/headache. But we've been on a Sci-Fi kick (and don't you hate that the SciFi channel is Syfy now? Ew.) at our house this summer with watching the entire Deep Space Nine series and also working on The Next Generation AND some of the Star Trek movies (though we of course haven't seen the new one yet) and now BSG. Wow - we're a couple pasty lookin' geeks over here, but it's fun.

So I've really not been making the most of the summer weather, but that's not to say I don't enjoy it. The outdoors never feels so nice as when I'm leaving work for the day. When I shut off the florescent lights and step out of the chilly recirculated office air and into the warmth of natural light, it's wonderful. I get in my car and - if it's not unbearably humid - I soak up the heat that's been captured inside and get all happy-sleepy, like some kind of reptile. (And once I've passed through the hood, I can put the windows down and enjoy the breeze.) Just let it stay in the 70s for a nice long time...

Not what I meant to say

I've been on these continuous birf-contro pills for several cycles now and have to admit - not missing the ol' period. No sir. Not missing it! But, there are always drawbacks with these things. The PMS, I still has it. BIG time. Maybe even for a prolonged time each cycle, or so it seems. It's a force too great to be diminished by some measly pill. And as such, I'm feeling positively nutty right now. I'm mad! I'm furiously mad and I want to talk about it! Go ahead, you say? Well, I don't damn know what to say! Forget it, I'm stupid. I'm just a horrible person and it turns out I'm not mad, I'm sad. Deeply horribly sad. I don't want to talk about why, but I want you to want to know why. That will make me cry and feel better and scold myself for being ridiculous and uh-oh, start this process all over again. Don't back away. Yes, I want to be alone but I don't mean it, I don't think. I don't know... about anything. I'm trying to make light but it really fucks you up to feel so - I don't know - out of sorts? Especially being someone who doesn't have all her sorts in a row in the first place.

Oh, I've thought about doing stuff

I think about blogging way more than I actually blog. Does that count for anything? No? Well, that's why I won't be at BlogHer. Well, not the only reason. I'm not sure I'd be qualified (or invited?) to attend - what with the whole not blogging on a regular basis, or having a large number of followers - and you know, not being "in it to win it" and all that. But if I were those things, and if I wasn't so anxiety-ridden about being in new uncomfortable situations, it would be pretty cool to go - especially to this one, since Chicago is probably the closest anyone will come to my area. Heh, my area. I am apparently good at thinking about blogging and being a fan of other bloggers (and babbling to J about them) so uh, I'll just do that from home.

So, I lost my glasses. Which is fine, because I wear contacts. And these glasses were probably 15 years old, hella thick even though the prescription isn't even as strong as what I'd need now, and under no circumstances could be worn outside the house. I accused J of "accidentally" disposing of my fugly glasses, but I don't think he's ever even touched the things. No big loss, I guess. But it kinda sucks to depend on wearing contacts all the time. I tend to stumble around more blindly than usual in the morning. Which brings me to an incident in which glasses would've been helpful.

Arlo was all wound up and playful the other morning, which means he's either been: chasing Gracie, entertaining himself with his toys, biting the feet of whichever groggy unfortunate person is trying to use the toilet, or getting into some kind of trouble. While I'm in the bathroom I hear him messing with the door to the linen closet (the cats just cannot abide a closed door), reaching under it and thwapping around, making a bunch of noise. I open the door so he can retrieve whatever toy he probably pushed under the door in the first place, and he brings it out. I go to pick up his mousie toy and toss it down the hallway for him to fetch so I can close the closet door, and I realize this mousie sure has a lot of spit on it, enough that it feels pretty squishy and gross. Ew. I drop it on the floor. "Um, honey?" I call to Justin "Can you come here and tell me if this is a toy mouse or a REAL mouse?" (Blind, remember) And of course - it was real, and I guess I'm thankful that it was already dead and not - ugh - partially eaten or suffering or something. (Poor mousie - these two probably just annoyed him to death.) But yeah. Gack! Washed my hands several times and made a mental note to both get glasses and to stop buying toy mice that look so damn REAL! (Oh, and I suppose it would help to find out whether there are more. Eek.)

I guess adding this picture of Arlo with his toy doesn't help my story of how "real" the mice look. But again, BLIND! Ass from a hole in the ground? Without my contacts, who knows?

Indecisive, stubborn, hopeful

I seem to be doing a lot of shopping lately. And by shopping, I mean wandering in circles around a handful of the same old stores second-guessing anything I might want, repeatedly trolling clearance sections, more often than not regretting whatever it is I did end up buying and then telling J about what I shoulda or almost bought. (He LOVES that part!) Oh, and sniffling. Don't forget the sniffling. I can't seem to go out in public these days without my nose running like crazy. (HAI! AM GROSS! AND ALLERGIC TO PEEPLES. GO WAY.)

Of course, clothes shopping seemed easier when I was a smaller size. Then again, I really couldn't afford much of anything at that time (so it was lucky that there were usually a lot more small sizes on clearance than large). Now that the weather is getting warmer, I can't hide under layers as easily. I need some items that I can wear to work (which fortunately is on the casual end of business casual) that aren't so loose that they're sloppy and make me look bigger but not so tight that I feel like I'm squeezed into a sausage casing or worry about playing peek-a-boob. Stuff I can be comfortable (the dreaded What Not To Wear word!) wearing.

There are a lot of cute tops out there, but so many of them have the short puffy or cap sleeves. I have a few blouses like this, but I'm not sure if I should. Sometimes there's a fine line between "feminine flare" and "Polish lunchlady" and I see myself getting closer to the grumbling, mashed potato slinging end of that spectrum. It wasn't that long ago that I thought the three-quarter length shirts were stupid ("Long or short: pick one!") but, now? Three-quarter sleeved shirts, come back! Or even better, elbow length! Give me just a little more arm coverage, please!

Shoes? Pants? Oh God, skirts? Don't get me started.

Our house needs a lot of things too, and I'm trying to get some of those crossed off the list (#1 - Replace ugly-ass old plaid comforter). At least the bedding and bath sections of the stores are slightly less painful. Still, if you hear someone in the back of the store choking on their snot while exclaiming that $20 for a friggin hand towel should not count as clearance, holla!

Three's Company

Hrmm, I think it's time for another cat-related update (or um, any kind of update).

The Adventures of Arlo T. Underfoot, Jr. and Gracie May "Little Britches" Underfoot continue!
Previously, in "The Playdate That Never Was" our curious duo had what ended up to be quite a short but exciting encounter with the Huge Orange Hissbag Under The Bed (ahem, my mom's cat).

The dialogue went something like this:

Gracie (in high-pitched, overly-cheerful voice): Well, hello there! My name's Gracie, cuz I'm gray, see? Hehhhyeheh. But you can call me Little Bri-

Mom's cat: *Glare* HISSSSS! Grumbles!

Gracie: (Pulls back extended paw) Well dang, aren't you a bitch.

Arlo: HEYHEYHEY! *snoof snoof* What do we have here?

Mom's cat: *Glare* Grumbles! *Ears back* HISS X 12!

Arlo: *Tail poof* Well then, I will be crapping in your litterbox.

Dun Dun Dunnn! The End?

So, the cat-sitting experience didn't go over so well for anyone involved. My mom's cat was SO glad to be taken back home where she could be checked on by a neighbor and spend her free time quietly plotting revenge instead of putting up with us, our unfamiliar house and our lively cats. I do like my mom's cat, but it was sort of a relief when she left (practically drove herself home). Cats don't really tend to enjoy "visits" too much, and our house isn't really big enough for us to give her much of her own space to chill.

Otherwise, Arlo and Gracie seem to be doing well. They have some obsessive-compulsive quirks, but what cat doesn't? Arlo loves to follow and get underfoot, in hopes that you were just on your way to give him a treat or open a door to some restricted area. He needs a lot of attention and interactive playtime, while Gracie is more content to explore and play on her own. Arlo has what I think is a boy-cat tendency to go from purring/lovey to purring/lovey/BITEY-TIME which isn't overly aggressive, but not something I want to continue. Gracie also has an interesting habit of um, nursing on herself. She only seems to do it when she's getting snuggly with us in bed and being petted, and then she gets this intense purr going and does the push-push on her little belly and well, she finds a nip and goes to town. The suckling noises can be somewhat irritating when you're trying to fall asleep, but she's just such a cute little thing. She was the runt of the litter, so maybe she didn't get as much time as needed with her mama. Aww.

I've probably spent way more time than is necessary fretting over the type of food and litter to buy for them. People have really strong opinions about this! I think you just have to go with a balance of what your cats like, what you're willing to spend, and what you hope won't have any adverse effects. I will say that I'm not going to go so far as to start cooking up homemade cat food, or insist that they eat a raw diet like their ancestors (which seems like saying "yeah, you live in my house and all but you go catch your own dinner like your ancestors had to - it's good for ya!") but I do feel a little better giving them something that at least has recognizable, seemingly high-quality ingredients (currently it's Eagle Pack brand) and admittedly, I still hold somewhat of a grudge over the whole melamine disaster a few years ago. As far as litter goes, I don't know if any of them can really make the poop-scooping experience a pleasant one - I'm just using those that don't make me or the cats sneeze too much.

Wow, ok that's a lot of cat talk. *Honk-shu*

The Lady Next Door's Greatest Hits, Vol 1

Haah? (The I Can't Hear You Song)

Uh-uh, I Ain't Playin!

Get Yourself To Church

Gimme One A Them Seizure Salads And A Parfet

Look Like You Tore Up From The Floor Up

Can't Talk To Me Like That (Not Your Mama Remix)


Bonus Track: 8 Minute Cackling/Pounding Fist On Desk Solo

(Overheard at work.)
(She's a counselor... of sorts.)

Observed

Some quick church-related items:

• Yesterday, I was driving behind a van that was printed with "Follow me to meet Jesus!" and I debated on whether this was a clever idea or maybe a warning not to tailgate? 
• I know last Sunday was Easter and all, but "For all you do - His bloods for you" on a church sign seems... well again, somewhere between clever and just bad taste. 
• Speaking of bad taste, I was raised Catholic and remember after my first sip of wine at Communion, I returned to my seat and excitedly whispered "That wine really does taste like blood!" where - as you can imagine - I was quickly shushed. 

Morning Bird/Bun Watch

(I like how she taps his shoulder with her tail, and he's all "whuh, who dat?" while she gets the optimum birdie view)