A Tale of Two Kitties

Please excuse the pun. But it is one of my favorite Dickens' novels...

I have two cats. Those who know me may, in fact, consider me a crazy cat lady. And, truthfully, I'm okay with that.

I'm childfree by choice. Past posts have explained it but, to recap, I don't feel the maternal instinct, don't feel the nurturing drive and, frankly, I thik the Earth has enough people as it is.

That all said, I love - adore - my kitties. They are by no means young'uns. Peeps is 14 going on 15 and Eliza is one year younger. And, as much as I bitch about 'Liza whining at my door in the mornings or Peeps walking all over my keyboard as I try to work, they are my family.

I spend hundreds on their food because I want to give them the best nutrition available. I clean up morning noon and night after their various "biological issues."I have stains on rugs, furniture and bedding,

But Peeps waits outside the shower until I'm done and then jumps in and licks the water from the faucet. She waits on the table, snarling at the seagulls trying to attack our garbage. Eliza nuzzles my head in the morning until I get up and feed her. And at night she cries until I pick her up and let her fall asleep in my arms.

How many emails has Peeps sent that read sssssssddddddddddrttkkkkkkkpppppppppppp. How many times has Eliza interupted a fantastical dream?

This long rant leads to this: Peeps has been sick. And they are both old ladies. I've already spent $600 - which I don't exactly have - to pay vet bills. And now Peeps won't even eat her prescription food.

I know I'm 1) being a negative nellie and 2) expecting the worst, but what do i do if either of them gets sick again? I have NO wiggle room, financially. I love them to bits and pieces and with all of my heart and would be devistated to lose them. But, truthfully, at what cost....???...

Luckily, I'm not facing that decision yet. Hopefully for not awhile. But it's on my mind constantly, and so I put it out there.

Keep us in your thoughts, won't you?

Parental Irony

So, I got in a big fight with dad a week or so ago. I was having "relationship difficulties" with Handsome Man. So, I called my mom to cry. She was a last resort, but I had to commiserate with somebody. Dad answered the call and gave me shit about calling so late. As if Mom has never called me inconvienently or my brother hasn't kept them up all night dealing with his issues. So, yeah, I was ticked.

Interesting times picking out a Father's Day card ...

Yesterday, I found out that one of my mother's favorite books, This Perfect Day, has been re-released. The joke in my family is that she gave me her copy and then borrowed it back so often and for so long it wound up again as her copy.

Another interesting note is that the author, Ira Levine, is also the author of Rosemary's Baby. Which mom once threw at my head when she found out I was taking classes about Wicca.

I don't honestlyknow what any of this really means. I guess what it means is that family relations are confusing, contradictory and incomprehensible. Also, somehow, we still wind up loving each other,

Why I Love Small Towns

Since being laid-off, I've been looking for some gigs here and there to make ends meet while freeing up some time to pursue my entrepreneurial ideas.

And this is how my journey has gone thus far.

The amazing Cape Ann Farmers' Market manager put me in touch with a local winery who was looking for a "salesperson" to staff their tent at the market.

I also got in touch with a woman who has a shop around the corner from my house. She makes bags and other items from recycled sails. One of the items she makes is... wine giftbags.

Another one of the ppl in my greater friendship circle is a blacksmith - and makes corkscrews.

All three are happy - nay, delighted - to sell one another's merch at their various locations. (Well, okay, I can't see the wine anywhere but the CAFM, but I can hand out info cards.)

So, with ll this good karma floating around, I shouldn't have been surprised at last Sunday's events.

A lovely couple came into a wine tasting and we started chatting. I can't remember how we got on the topic, but it turns out the wife and I have both done charity bike rides. I mentioned that I had completed mine on a hybrid. "Oh heavens!" she said, "I'm impressed." At the end of the conversation - knowing how much money she needed to raise for her upcoming involvement in the PanMass Challenge, I told her to please stop by again and I would pledge her.

After telling me how nice that was, she asked if I'd ever thought about getting a road bike. Sure, I joked, if you can buy it for me.

"Actually, I have a really good one sitting in my garage. I upgraded to a newer model - and this one needs a seat and its gears need re-stringing - but otherwise it's in great shape."

She was serious and even made it sound like I was doing her a favor by taking it out of her garage.

Yea karma. Yea good neighbors. Yea help one another out anyway we can. Yea Universe.

Forgive and Forget?

I spoke with a former colleague today. I like and respect this man. And I feel for him because he is still caught in a difficult situation; selling a product in a market that is, at best, resistant and, at least, doomed to fail in his market.

During our discussion, he tried to convey to me that (former boss) has mellowed. I don't - can't - buy it. This is the man who had made me so terrified - scared to express idea, opinion, insight, or unique observation - that I was literally afraid to go into work, afraid to open email, afraid to answer my phone. Fuck - afraid to wake up.

Life under CBL was horrendous - being oncall 24x7; expected to manage all of her expectation and emotions; responsible for being employee, friend and sounding board; was bad. And because I wasn't in a safe place - mentally and spirituall - I let it take its toll on me.

But to be outright harassed, bullied, insulted and threatened ... it has honestly left a permanent scar. It's like a mental/emotional rape - it takes away your power, your independance, your security. And you're left with a feeling of complet loss of control.

Was it because I am female? Was it because I challenged his viewpoint? Was it because I am an individual and dared to flaunt that in his face? Was it because I will respect a human but not a role?

I have no idea. But the reality is ... I was bullied and abused. And that will never go away. I want to hold him in lovingkindness. I want to feel sympathy for him.

But I can't. And right now, I won't. Through my work with Amazing Therapist, I've come to terms with the fact that it's OK to be angry. I want to be better, be above anger and blame, but I'm coming to terms with the fact that it needs to be OK if that takes some time.

So, yeah. Maybe that asshat boss has "mellowed out." But the scars he left on me aren't gone. Not yet. Not now.