Is it creepy that I've kept them for posterity? I think, maybe, it is.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Emi's Whiskers
I was sitting on the couch with my laptop, trying to figure out how to add a simple, but customized follow button to my blog (I gave up, as you will see if you scroll down) and heard Emi over in the corner rustling paper. I thought she was playing with the light box I no longer use, but when Jasper got interested, I decided I should be too.
Emi loves tape, so much so that she will pull it out of the trash to play with it. Hanging from the side of her mouth was a piece of tape at which she was pawing. When I got closer, and tried to remove it from her mouth, I discovered that it was actually attached to her whiskers. I brought her out into the light, so I could remove it. The tape was folded over, with her whiskers stuck in the middle. Unable to come up with a good way to remove it, I ran to get my phone, in hopes that two people could come up with a solution more quickly.
As I raced back into the room (my house is tiny, it didn't take long) I heard a ripping sound and a squawk. She sprinted off leaving the piece of tape, still sandwiching her whiskers, sitting on the ottoman. She had panicked and ripped out her whiskers to remove the tape. When I went to check on her, she hid and hissed at both Jasper and me. Apparently, we are now both connected to the tape ripping incident, in her mind.
I feel like the worst pet parent ever. Not only did I allow her access to the tape, I didn't check on her immediately, allowing her to struggle, then I left her to panic once I had discovered the problem. She looks unbelievably pathetic, and not just because of the missing whiskers, she is scared. I hate seeing her like that.
Emi loves tape, so much so that she will pull it out of the trash to play with it. Hanging from the side of her mouth was a piece of tape at which she was pawing. When I got closer, and tried to remove it from her mouth, I discovered that it was actually attached to her whiskers. I brought her out into the light, so I could remove it. The tape was folded over, with her whiskers stuck in the middle. Unable to come up with a good way to remove it, I ran to get my phone, in hopes that two people could come up with a solution more quickly.
As I raced back into the room (my house is tiny, it didn't take long) I heard a ripping sound and a squawk. She sprinted off leaving the piece of tape, still sandwiching her whiskers, sitting on the ottoman. She had panicked and ripped out her whiskers to remove the tape. When I went to check on her, she hid and hissed at both Jasper and me. Apparently, we are now both connected to the tape ripping incident, in her mind.
I feel like the worst pet parent ever. Not only did I allow her access to the tape, I didn't check on her immediately, allowing her to struggle, then I left her to panic once I had discovered the problem. She looks unbelievably pathetic, and not just because of the missing whiskers, she is scared. I hate seeing her like that.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Jasper and the Worm
This morning, after having been allowed to sleep for almost three hours after I was roused by a vomiting cat, I was awakened by another cat. This time it was Jasper begging for attention, as he does most every morning. He was extra demanding, and cried more than usual. He rolled around on me, got under the covers, then jumped on the floor and started trying to dig, or something. Eventually, after venturing in the closet and just generally acting weird, he made his way back to me.
As I was petting him, I felt something weird in his bib fur. It was slimy, and when I looked I saw it was a dark color. How had he managed to get poo on his front end? Then, it moved. After flipping on lights, and pinning him down, it was clear; he had a tiny bit of earthworm hanging out on his mane. He is an inside cat. I have so many questions I wish he could answer.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Struggling
I am not a social person by nature. Most of my time is spent in a solitary state, and I'm okay with that. My mind races, and there are incredible adventures to be had, even if I can't be bothered to step outside. Unfortunately, in order to sell the things that I create during my time alone, I apparently need a rich social network. In order to get people to read my blogs or to look at my shop I need people who know me to do these things first.
I'm becoming increasingly convinced that most initial success on Etsy is driven by close personal relationships. Close friends and family members make the first purchases, comment on treasuries, promote their loved one's shop. I don't have that kind of support system. I never have. More importantly, I have no idea how to create it, or if I even want to.
I've always been stubborn. I am used to getting my way, not because things are given to me, but because once I decide I want something, I am relentless. I also get things done my own way. I won't take the easy route, but insist on making things work the way I want them to. But, I think social networking has me beaten. I'm not social, I can't network. While my creative ideas have been met with criticism and rejection since I was a child, for the first time, I am feeling beaten. I don't know if I can do this. I put in so much effort, and get nothing in return. Hungry and tired, the only things keeping me going are a sheer unwillingness to accept failure, and a desperate need for accomplishment.
It is hitting me harder because I'm also in the midst of accepting the fact that I may never be a scientist. I know this may seem silly, but it is what I've always wanted. While most people gave up on their childhood dream jobs years ago, I've held on to the tatters of mine. It is all I am, all I've ever really wanted. It is my identity, my future, my happiness. But, I am not sure I am physically capable of reaching my goal.
Everything is spiraling away from me. There is nothing for me to grasp on to. My sense of self is so tied to two things, my creativity, and my intelligence, that with the loss of both, or the illusion of the loss of both, I am nothing. As I try to maintain one, I lose the ability to nurture the other. I can't make a decision on which is more important to me, so both slip away. Then, I have no meaning, no individuality. I am not myself, I am lost, and I am struggling.
I'm becoming increasingly convinced that most initial success on Etsy is driven by close personal relationships. Close friends and family members make the first purchases, comment on treasuries, promote their loved one's shop. I don't have that kind of support system. I never have. More importantly, I have no idea how to create it, or if I even want to.
I've always been stubborn. I am used to getting my way, not because things are given to me, but because once I decide I want something, I am relentless. I also get things done my own way. I won't take the easy route, but insist on making things work the way I want them to. But, I think social networking has me beaten. I'm not social, I can't network. While my creative ideas have been met with criticism and rejection since I was a child, for the first time, I am feeling beaten. I don't know if I can do this. I put in so much effort, and get nothing in return. Hungry and tired, the only things keeping me going are a sheer unwillingness to accept failure, and a desperate need for accomplishment.
It is hitting me harder because I'm also in the midst of accepting the fact that I may never be a scientist. I know this may seem silly, but it is what I've always wanted. While most people gave up on their childhood dream jobs years ago, I've held on to the tatters of mine. It is all I am, all I've ever really wanted. It is my identity, my future, my happiness. But, I am not sure I am physically capable of reaching my goal.
Everything is spiraling away from me. There is nothing for me to grasp on to. My sense of self is so tied to two things, my creativity, and my intelligence, that with the loss of both, or the illusion of the loss of both, I am nothing. As I try to maintain one, I lose the ability to nurture the other. I can't make a decision on which is more important to me, so both slip away. Then, I have no meaning, no individuality. I am not myself, I am lost, and I am struggling.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Disconnected
I had very limited internet access last week, but I have big plans to make up for the lack of content. Stay tuned (readers who do not exist).
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Knitting Women
I have been so busy (and sick) lately that I haven't had time to keep up with a lot of things I enjoy, including my favorite bloggers. Because of this, I've only just read Stephanie Pearl-McPhee's post for International Women's Day. In all honesty, I haven't read much about knitting for quite awhile, as peripheral neuropathy has made it difficult for me to do. But, I'm glad I happened to check in, because the post is fantastic (really, what are you still doing here, go read it).
I am a feminist, I refuse to be mealy-mouthed about my dedication to equality for all people. There are days when I just don't want to deal with it, and days that I screw up royally, but when it comes down to core beliefs, that's pretty much it for me. We are all vastly different, yet equally impressive.
I guess I just felt the need to say it, as I often forget that it is not something that is the default. I wish it were. I would much rather think that everyone believes in equality, until proven otherwise. That's not how the world works, so I will declare that I am a feminist. If you catch me acting against the basic tenants of my belief in equality, or just acting like a general goon, I expect to be called on it. That's the only way it will get better, if we expose the issues.
I am a feminist, I refuse to be mealy-mouthed about my dedication to equality for all people. There are days when I just don't want to deal with it, and days that I screw up royally, but when it comes down to core beliefs, that's pretty much it for me. We are all vastly different, yet equally impressive.
I guess I just felt the need to say it, as I often forget that it is not something that is the default. I wish it were. I would much rather think that everyone believes in equality, until proven otherwise. That's not how the world works, so I will declare that I am a feminist. If you catch me acting against the basic tenants of my belief in equality, or just acting like a general goon, I expect to be called on it. That's the only way it will get better, if we expose the issues.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Breakdown
I finally broke down today and decided to create a Facebook account. I've resisted for years, but I thought it would be good for business. As I was inputting my information, I had a panic attack. The idea of having my personal information so readily accessible to so many people, the flood of pictures of people I never thought I would see (and never wanted to see) again, and the knowledge that my hermit-like nature would be judged and somewhat destroyed was more than I could handle. I broke down.
I deleted my account and began to breathe more easily, the albuterol inhaler helped, since the panic attack triggered a broncho-spasm. It seems silly that I can blog about things that are incredibly personal, yet couldn't bring myself to share superficial personal information. There is comfort in the quasi-anonymity and seclusion provided by this blog. So, I'll work a little harder to network sans Facebook. I'm no good if I can't breathe.
I deleted my account and began to breathe more easily, the albuterol inhaler helped, since the panic attack triggered a broncho-spasm. It seems silly that I can blog about things that are incredibly personal, yet couldn't bring myself to share superficial personal information. There is comfort in the quasi-anonymity and seclusion provided by this blog. So, I'll work a little harder to network sans Facebook. I'm no good if I can't breathe.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Bronchitis Sucks
I've had bronchitis for awhile now, and it sucks. What sucks even more is that I've developed an allergy to the antibiotic. There was a rash, and I was miserable. I'm not a good sick person, so I'm probably not any fun to be around either. But, I'm too self absorbed to worry about that right now, I don't feel well.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Daily Felid
Litter Box Edition
I doubt anyone cares, but I have come up with a litter box system that I am fairly happy with, and thought I would share. I am currently using Yesterday's News litter (there are currently BOGO stickers on most bags) save one box, where I am testing out the Tidy Cat Breeze Cat Litter Pellets. The system I devised is actually quite similar to the Breeze system, so when I saw it at the pet store, I thought I'd give the litter a go (I'll do a full review, eventually).
I Can't Feel My Foot, But It Itches: Adventures In Sickness
I haven't been feeling well lately. The symptoms are vague (except for occasionally not being able to feel my foot, save the unmerciful itching, but I don't think there is a name for that), but I am miserable, and spend most of my energy trying to sleep, trying to stay awake, or trying to eat. This feeling (not the foot part) overtakes me several times a year, usually just after I have started making progress toward a goal; the dragging end to many of my beginnings. I think this is coincidental, as it happens so often, by the time I have regained some kind of human functioning and stepped toward progress, it returns.
I have semi-joked about having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (the "Sick and Tired" episode of The Golden Girls pretty much sums up my life with doctors, except for the end where Dorothy finally finds someone competent), but have dismissed the notion as hypochondria. Every time I get into this state, the idea resurfaces. Having an already diagnosed chronic illness makes it far less like that I will be diagnosed with another one, even if it makes it more likely that I have one. Autoimmune disorders like company ( and migraines seem to be their BFF). Doctors don't believe women with unverifiable symptoms.
I can deal with the pain, I spend almost every moment of my life in pain. The issue is the lethargy. My brain races with things I want desperately to do, but there are days I cannot get out of bed, and nights when I can't get up off of the couch to go to bed. The situation has become downright Proust-ian, except that I am usually too tired to write, and I'm not a literary genius. Overlooking those small details, it is uncanny.
I have semi-joked about having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (the "Sick and Tired" episode of The Golden Girls pretty much sums up my life with doctors, except for the end where Dorothy finally finds someone competent), but have dismissed the notion as hypochondria. Every time I get into this state, the idea resurfaces. Having an already diagnosed chronic illness makes it far less like that I will be diagnosed with another one, even if it makes it more likely that I have one. Autoimmune disorders like company ( and migraines seem to be their BFF). Doctors don't believe women with unverifiable symptoms.
I can deal with the pain, I spend almost every moment of my life in pain. The issue is the lethargy. My brain races with things I want desperately to do, but there are days I cannot get out of bed, and nights when I can't get up off of the couch to go to bed. The situation has become downright Proust-ian, except that I am usually too tired to write, and I'm not a literary genius. Overlooking those small details, it is uncanny.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Monday Muppets
Charles Aznavour did a sweet rendition of this in the first season of the show, but I'm glad they repeated it with Danny Kaye. This is one of my favorite episodes, he was brilliant.
I can't believe I never heard this song as a child, maybe it would have helped me overcome my visceral dislike of marigolds.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Nocturnal
For some reason, my natural sleep cycle is the reverse of that of normal humans. I am, essentially, nocturnal. When I allow myself to get out of a set schedule, I revert back to my natural state. Unfortunately, I am currently in that state. I try to get flipped around, but it is so very difficult. I'm not sure why this happens, but it is quite inconvenient, though I do sleep much better during the day than at night, so it is kind of nice. Maybe I should move to the opposite side of the globe, though I have a feeling that I would still be nocturnal. For now, I will blame it on the cats.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
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