Tess: 1992-2010. One very old, very sweet cat.

Today my family lost a great pet and one of my oldest friends.
Tess was a good cat. A really good, sweet, lovey cat. She was the family cat, though technically mine and my oldest brother Jason's, but essentially she was mine. This was decided when, after maybe a year of this skittish little kitty running away from everyone, she hopped up on the couch next to me and immediately starting purring and pawing at me. From then on, she was my cat. She slept in my room every night and pawed and purred so much I frequently had to shove her off the bed.

She was lovey, and she very much deserved the good life she had. She saw me through most of elementary, middle and high schools, college, and grad school. 18 years is a lot for the tiniest maine coon in all the land. I love her dearly and have been missing her all day, much more than usual, of course.

I wish I had better pictures, because this little lady helped me through many a sobfest and sleepless night growing up. She let me dress her up in doll clothes and walk her around the house in a plastic baby carraige. Basically, she put up with all kind of my shit from childhood through adulthood and was ever the sweetest little thing.

But she couldn't see and she couldn't here, and it's unlikely any of that was going to be fixed. If we fixed her thyroid it would knock her kidneys out of wack even more and confining a fluffy helen keller to a bathroom (loss of bladder and bowel control was becoming an issue) while forcing medicine that probably won't even work down her throat....Yeah, I made the call to go ahead.

As sad as it made me, I know it was right. She really is in a better place, and we buried her in the yard at home. She joined the ranks of Kip, Bootsie, and ...some other pet my mother had as a child today. I'm going to go plant flowers over her tomorrow. :)

This is the last I will have to say on the subject. Because it's true and you know it.

I've actually been having a really good week on the whole. My new job is perfect (except not being full time), I had some other good news, and the weather has been great.

I've also been hearing a lot about people talking about me. I'm upset. It never feels good to have people saying nasty (and inaccurate) things about you behind your back. Then I thought about who could have been saying these things and would have chosen to say them in such a way.

Oh, right! I cut that person out of my life a while ago and this is exactly why. My point has been proven at least 10 times over. I know I made the right choice. There is not a doubt in my mind. But I also know that from the outside it looks very different, and that is why I can't let it go. Rather than talk to me, people talked about me with someone who I'd barely spoken to in months, and whose own personal life choices have been far, far less than stellar.

To this person, all the things he has said about me, and anyone else who may have aided him in this venture intentionally, or not, I say this:

I am brilliant. I am extremely talented, I'm pretty, I am honest, and I am far more kind to others than I am to myself. I didn't drink until I was 21 and I will never do drugs. I won concerto competitions when I was 13 and 17. I win 75% of the auditions I choose to take. My AP scores in high school? 3, 3, 4, 4, 5. I can pitch a softball at 60 mph. I was on varsity by my sophomore year. I was in the senior choir sophomore year. I played a song I wrote in front of my entire school freshman year for the talent show. They loved it. They wouldn't stop cheering for a solid minute and a half when I went on stage the next year, athankyouverymuch. I wrote a 240 page webcomic. I can paint like woah. My cat? She fucking loves me. My family? Crazy, but amazing. Best brothers on the face of the planet. I stood up for my best friend in front of 15 17-year old girls one summer. Her mother will love me forever. I am hilarious. I graduated cum laude with my BM at 22. I have 1 homework assignment, 1 short final, and my exit exam left before I graduate with my MM at 25, so stop telling people to pity me because I "didn't graduate on time." I'm a hell of a lot more accomplished than 90% of the people I know are involved in this and I have a lot more to be proud of and happy about than any of you even know.

Ya'll can stfu. Thanks.

Aaaaaand, we're done. :)

I have an interview today!
Plus I'm walking that adorable dog!
Plus I had a great date with a really, really cute guy last night. Hope he likes me back. For reals, though. :)
And I am going running. It is happening.

EDIT:

Let's not lie, though. I'm not going running, that boy is probably never going to call me again, I feel super crappy right now because the delicious, delicious food I got on said date was also super heavy and I'm being petty-pissy because someone I offered a favor to is now taking that and using it as license to be less polite than strictly necessary. People being less polite than strictly necessary may be my greatest anger inducer and the root of all my problems. Maybe.
Just sayin'.

This is how things don't get done.

To be fair to myself, I have applied to 6 jobs in the last 24 hours, and I have dog walking and flute teaching happening. On to the story of my life right now:

On the non-productive, slightly agoraphobic side of things, I haven't been getting out much. At all. It's kind of hard to get out when I have no money and I'm awake from 2 PM to 9 AM. By the time I'm ready to go do stuff things are closing. It's also not helpful for my mental state, but that is it's own very special mess. Downward spiral. Let's pretend it's not happening. Moving on.

Now, one of my major life goals is to write, draw, and publish my own comic. This is something I can work on in the wee hours of the morning, so that is what I did last night. Thing is, I like to research. If I'm gonna do this, it is going to be good. So this is how last night went down.

Character idea! Drawn, inked, colored. Bam.
Character needs a name. Find one.
Research themes.
Research main plot device.
Distracted by John Titor and the works of Robert A. Heinlein.
Back on track! Time travel leads to parallel universes, which leads to the chronology of all the games in Zelda video game canon (which brings up more questions than it answers), which leads to the destruction of my greatest fictional childhood crush.
Simultaneously, I am researching Ambien Zombies, because I can't remember anything after I take it. Which leads me to Fatal Familial Insomnia. Crazy things in the world.
Back to comic. Character needs a theme-relevant tattoo.
All the while Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends is running in the background. There is an episode with Cylon carrots. Amazing cartoon gets 20 more amazing points. Am reminded that I am basically Blooregard Q. Kazoo, who, in the real world, would function much like Liz Lemon. Who I also, basically, am.

I am not even going to tell you how sad that last statement just made me.

It's not that I'm not getting things done. It's just that, well, I think we all understand the problems here. Let's leave it and hope this comic ends up being good so I can justify this.

Potential Pet Names:

Dilophasaurus
Malaria
Gallimimus
Stalin
Psychologie (but pronounced like in German)(...puh-sick-oh-loh-gee)
Sypholis (nickname: The Syph)
Copernicus
Butts
Teddy Roosevelt
Ghengis Khan
Roy Mustang
Captain Forbes Thor Kiddoo
Emporer Norton (Protector of Mexico) <-- By the way, if I ever open a pub, it will be The Emporer Norton. It will have Skee-Ball, cider, and so much* delicious food. Yes. You saw correctly. I am going to open a pub that serves dim sum, sushi, donuts, and every other fried monstrosity imaginable. Don't tell me about the logistics of that kind of food service combined with a bar and arcade and possible bowling alley! I won't hear it!

There's going to be a velociraptor pen in the back.

...


Life will find a way.


...


I forget what I was talking about.

Also, I think this may be the right medication for me? It also may really, really not be. I'm having a hard time telling if I'm being way more ADD or way less. It's possible Prozac negatively affects maturity levels...I'm unclear on this...

Also, also...it's possible I am a boy on the inside. Badass historical figures, infectious diseases, dinosaurs, and Butts. I really don't know how this happened. At least I didn't put this one down. But I giggled. A lot. And I could have put down about twenty more diseases, like Tetanus or Hemorrhoid. Or Cancer. I think I'll name my bunny Cancer. Of the prostate. By the way, don't google image search "worst disease." I'm pretty morbid, but that was just a bad idea, and now I can't look away.

* Yes, you do see a flower made of salmon.

Things that are making me happy right this second

I'm probably going to change my mind about all of these things in two hours, BUT:

I've been contemplating and researching future unrealistic purchases, such as a kitten: Scottish Fold, or a bunny: Tan. Sabie needs a friend and the crazy pet lady within me is fighting violently to get out. Luckily, my lack of funds is preventing me from purchasing either of these. Potential reward of bunny/kitten is, however, a great motivator in my job search.

I am not becoming morbidly obese! While I am completely out of shape, every time I am bold enough to put on one of my smaller fitting outfits, this fear (okay, it's sort of a paranoia) is disproved. Then I go eat more Nutella. Because yes, that's right, I bought Nutella. I never buy Nutella. You know why? Because I eat ALL OF IT. It is the most delicious thing I have, and will ever in the entirety of my purportedly expected 70-80 year long life, experience. I pretty much had Nutella every single day of the four months I lived in London. It was a major contributor to my "HolyshitI'meatingNutellastraightoutofthejarI'msuchafatty" panic which was in turn a great contributor to my actually losing some weight and vowing never to let myself eat like a rabid gingerbread man zombie-cannibal again. After three years of refusing to buy it, I caved. It will be gone soon, and I will be able to be less concerned about my obesity-paranoia, but that Nutella has made me so happy every time I have put it on any of the following things this week: bread, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, tortilla chips (I ran out of everything else...) and, of course, straight. Guilty, but happy.

Yesterday Liesl and I made bacon wrapped asparagus, drank beer, watched Dr. Who, walked up to Fort Funston, and went hot tubbing yesterday. Not in that order. And that is how a girls' day should be done.

The only I've spent in the last week was on groceries. Granted, that's because my days have mostly been spent on Craigslist (I need a joooooooooob) and Reddit, but my social outings have consisted of girls day with Liesl, extremely drunk brother hangouts at Ocean Beach, and father's day cookout. Oh. Wait. I also bought two beers out with old coworkers. Totally acceptable, though, as I haven't seen those people in months. This also means I've been cooking a lot, which is awesome. It also, less awesomely, means my house guest has seen the extent of my cooking abilities, and the oddities of my eating habits. Spring roll wrappers are the new bread. Don't judge me.

Reddit is amazing, my cat is fucking cute and super snuggly, chocolate chip cookies and Nutella tastes like CHRISTMAS, Chatroulette is hilarious, the dress I wore to my brother's high school graduation when I was 14 still fits perfectly, I'm going to sushi with at least two of my favorite people in a few hours, and I HAVE ART MOTIVATIONS AGAIN!

Evidence:















My brother and his fiance are going to be so excited when they see their wedding present next month:













I even framed it.

It's red white and blue because love is made of red. And she's Jewish. I was going to write something about pigs and Yamakas, but I would like to meet my hopeful future nieces and/or nephews (no pressure, really, I'm cool with the hairless cat, too) at some point, so maybe I won't.

And oh holy Jesus, my life will not be complete without this shirt.

I have never been less worried about what people who read my blog will think of me when they see this post. Bizarre, random, anxiety ridden self-deprecation is life. :)

EDIT: I may just settle for a fish named Calamity Jane. She will have googly eyes.

Common Innapropriate Behavior

[I'm supposed to be writing down my anxieties so that I can think straight (and sleep). I was going to make a mildly humorous quiz about acceptable behavior as a human being (to deflect, and sound less whiny), and then I started adding old stuff that people did that, let's face it, I am still pretty pissed about when it does come up. And then I still felt whiny so I stopped listing things and just started analyzing myself again. ...which is kind of the opposite of the point.]

Like Meg McBlogger, I have a problem with grudges. I'm not proud of the fact, but it will probably never change. However, also like Meg, who follows her own patented Make it Right Theory, if some form of recompense occurs (in the form of an apology), the grudge will fade. I can continue to be upset about the events that transpired, but as long as I know you understand why I was upset, I will get over it.*

Unfortunately, it can be difficult to tell what "angry" is with me until you've actually seen it. There's tired, frustrated, stressed, irritated, just generally pissy, and then there is legitimate, directed anger. They're all basically the same in that I want to be left alone. If I'm actually angry with someone, I have to be completely sure that whatever happened was not okay by conventional standards.

It's hard to tell the difference in a lot of my moods, especially who or what they are directed at or caused by, I know. But rest assured, if I am really, really pissed, you will know. About one (resolved) incident, my brother said, "I hope you were cold, because when you're cold, you're cold."

I felt like a badass.

PS Except mostly it just means I pretend you don't exist.
It's like being demoted below stranger status.
Dishonorably discharged from mah life. BAM.
That's what I'm going to call it from now on. A dishonorable discharge.

PPS I put too much vanilla in my cookie dough and now it smells like booze.

In an attempt to be positive I've started a few creative projects to either 1. make people smile, or 2. help/encourage people. I've been brainstorming on things that do either of those.

The thing is, what prompted me to do this was the thought that I never do anything for anyone else (implied: because I'm a horrid selfish narcissistic bitch of a girl who never follows through and ruins everything for everyone with my bad attitude and worse life skills).

I started thinking more about that.
And then I realized it was B.S.

I do lots of things for people!
I do also tend to complain about a lot, and get upset and confused about things in general, which sometimes spoils the good things I do, but that initial intention is there, and is usually followed through on (which is the thing that surprised me when I realized it). The afterward is where the niceness tends to go away, but that is another issue (called disillusionment)(...and debatably "too high" moral and civil standards...very debatably).

Point being, I need to give myself more credit. I also need to learn to do the right/nice things without necessarily expecting the reward of other people doing the same in return, or having the same idea of what "nice" or "right" is. Or a thank you.

So I'm giving myself credit for all the good things I did today, and for being the me I want to be (which happens far less than I'd like to admit). I'm trying to forget the things I did or thought today that made me less than proud, and I'm trying to convince myself that "not being amazingly perfect, amiable, and entertaining at all times" does not fall under the category of "things I'm allowed to beat myself up over." To be honest, I'm still not convinced of that, but the list is pretty long, so maybe I can just pretend I don't see it on there for a while.