Tag Archives: aminals

The Story Is Everything

H&M

One of my friends asked about The Wedding on Twitter. She was developing a slight interest but was still perplexed at the intense fascination it held for some people, mostly women a little older than herself. I fall into that group. Now, I’ve not been obsessed with The Wedding itself; in fact, I found the relentless coverage as irritating as anything else the “news” media decides I must have shoved in my face 24/7, whether it’s the KarJenner baby mama drama BS or that horrible man’s lawyers’ lawyers’ lawyers’ lawyers.

However. I loved the story of Diana (and cried at the tragedy). Her story kept me vaguely interested in her children all these years. William and Kate’s story was sweet, but the Meghan Markle story is fascinating. Everything I learn about Meghan is fabulous. She’s a proud and accomplished feminist! She went to Northwestern! She has a rescue beagle! I think she is utterly gorgeous and her mother is gorgeous too. I adored seeing the dresses and silly hats on the royals and celebs at the wedding and after-party. (I didn’t watch the actual ceremony ~ I’m not big on vids.) And the children were adorable! Meghan’s little doggie rode with the Queen, omgawd!

And I clicked on bunches of pics that “proved” Meghan and Harry were in super duper lurve because of all their PDA, which is generally Not Done by royals but they don’t care. They’re so cute and wonderful, proving that soul mates exist in this scary terrible world. It’s the perfect time to be reminded of that. Yes, I have examples of soul mates in my own life, but this is different because it’s a story for the world to witness as one.

This is why people love a fantasy. This is why romance novels outsell every other genre. We want to believe in the love story. We want to believe in magic and romance. We want the fairy tale, the prince and the princess, the horses, the gowns, the flowers, the kiss that lasts a lifetime, all of it.

We want the story.

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My Kitty’s Pedigree

Love

He’s got soft furs from a baby lamb–
Some white as snow from northern lands–
While the rest are grey like a thundercloud,
And his meow is really really LOUD!
His claws are sharp as thorns on a rose,
But his paws are pink and so’s his nose;
He has sweet gold eyes in a cute lil face,
And his brain floated in from outer space.
He’s kind of a nutball, which suits me fine:
Craziness swims in both our bloodlines.
But I love him and he loves me,
Which makes the purrfect pet-agree!

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Pedigree

How I’m Spending Mother’s Day

My children live far away and my mom has passed on, so I planned a quiet restful day with kitty, writing, movie at home, stitchery, etc. No need for a crowded annoying brunch or peeps coming over to pester me with flowers and whatnottery. I was looking forward to a nice day alone to catch up.

But first my bathtub/shower stopped draining water. I thought okay, no biggie, it’s just draining slowly and I will text my landlord dude guy later to deal with it tomorrow. My sink is also slow, and he can fix both things at once, efficiency rah. After a little bit I went to check the tub again and it hadn’t drained at all since my shower, so that was just Not Good. I started having some anxiety about work tomorrow and things of that nature, making sure to dry my hair in such a way that it could last for two days.

I had some tea and checked the tub again. Nope, nothing. All the yucko shampooey water was still there. So, I made my bed and washed the dishes as you do when you think your landlord might be coming over later. Then, naturally, I bailed all the yucko shampooey water out of the tub with a cup and flushed it away, cleaned the tub and shower curtain all nice and sparkling, since I couldn’t have my landlord and/or plumber seeing anything yucko. That would be gross.

Then I refilled the tub one inch or so with nice clean perfect water, texted my landlord that things were amiss, and waited for his reply. He called after a bit and said he’d fix everything tomorrow, Monday. Okay. I could live with that.

In the meantime, I went back to my beautiful clean tub to discover that the perfect water had drained out and in its place, from the bowels of hell, was a giant pile of dirt. WHAT?! This was not smelly poopoo dirt or anything like that, but dirt-dirt, like from outdoors. How could dirt-dirt get up to my second floor apartment? Why did it need to burp out of the drain for the nice clean water to go down? What was this mystery trade-off?

Well. I got out some trusty disposable cleaning gloves and bleach and wiped up the dirt-dirt. Soon the tub was even cleaner than before, so shiny and gleaming it hurt my eyes to look at the thing. In fact, I was getting a giant migraine from all this tubby gorgeousness. Again, I ran some nice clear water in the tub and kept checking on it. Eventually it went down (after a million years) and left a teensy bit of residue ~ not the huge clumps of dirt, just a few specks. I wiped them away and did it again. Same. I’ll probably keep doing this the rest of the day because this is how I am.

Obviously there’s a voracious creature waking in the pipes, something alien that was left here by a spaceship, a dirty hairy drain monster that will soon burst through and devour us all, beginning with my kitty and me sometime tonight after I fall asleep during one of the tub rinse/wipe/refill cycles. Gatsby seems unconcerned because he’s a cat. But really there’s nothing we can do, so we may as well nap and dream our last dream.

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Happy Mother’s Day!

Notable Friday

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What’s special about today? Well, it’s the last Friday in April, the last Friday I’ll be this age, and it’s a square cube (4/27) with lucky 18 at the end. Happily all dates this year have lucky 18 at the end ~ what an amazing coinkydink! Anyway, I like squares and cubes, and I especially like square cubes. I like all squares too, and I even have a line in a pome referencing this in my latest book All She Wrotewhich is selling well and getting fab reviews, much to my surprise, thanks to all you lovely peeps.

Back to numbers. One is also a good number. I have one cat and he’s adorable! I like Day One of the month when Prime members choose their free Kindle book. I’m trying to get caught up on my backlog of unread books, but there are so many and I’m always finding new wanna-reads. And now I have That Girl to finish watching, plus there are some good movies coming out (not to mention the good ones I’ve missed on my list too), plus of course the books I’m writing and don’t forget my stitchery projects! Oops, I may have forgotten my stitchery projects, yikes. (I know I could do stitchery while watching That Girl, but I’ve actually been editing old stories during TG because, not to disparage TG in any way whatsoever, the shows don’t consume my entire attention.)

So, yes, I think today is a Notable Friday, and I’m noting it. For the record. Let it be noted!

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Notable

Vagueku

Once there was something
Or maybe it was nothing
We might never know

Today path is clear
Tomorrow out of focus
Time to wash windows

Mysterious dreams
Pointing toward the future
Or too much teevee

Cat has been silent
Maybe plotting my demise
Or stalking a bug

Birthday approaches
A time for celebration
And counting undones

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Vague

Notes to Self

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Betrayed by expectations once again. Relearn. Remember. Keep the bar of wanting low. Desire little from others. Rejoice in small accomplishments and don’t agonize over failing to reach the stars. The stars will still be there tomorrow. Savor every cotton candy sunset. Nothing is more important than taking a minute to play with a kitty. Stay in the car to finish listening to a song. Jot down every poetic thought because you never know when one will take your hand and lead you to a path filled with starlight in the dark forest of the night. But don’t expect it.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Betrayed

App Gap

Ever since I deleted Facebook, Instagram, and Messenger from my phone last week I’ve had an “app gap.” What I mean is that I had two screens of 16 phone apps each, 4×4, all filled in, and now there are two missing from the bottom right of the last screen. I know you can all math, so yes I did “unbundle” my fitness apps or else there would be three missing. I also know you are all laughing at the idea that I have fitness apps. SHUT UP! I am planning on fitnessing at some point, and if that day ever comes, those apps will come in handy.

Initially I thought, hmm, I could d/l some innocuous apps I wouldn’t use much, like solo chess and another boring game, but that sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? My idea is to spend less time involved in distractions from my projects. Without FB, maybe solo chess would suddenly become exciting. You just never know.

Then I had an epiphany. The adorable photo of Gatsby I use for my home screen had been pretty well covered up by my 4×4 app grid, but the two missing apps on the second screen reveal his beautiful golden eye and sweet little pink nose. Plus they remind me how I’m not wasting oodles of time on FB and Messenger meow. Win win! Embrace the gap! (You had no idea how OCD I really was, didja?)

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On a related unrelated note, I stumbled across this article a few days ago (I have a lot more time to actually read the news now, go figure). The advice was written for men by a woman (or someone with a female ‘nym) and says to delete all your dating site apps because they are rigged, not fun, and a waste of time. I agree with this advice 100%, despite being a woman and allegedly having so many more opportunities than men on the sites. Maybe if I were 35 I wouldn’t say “allegedly,” but I’m not, so I am saying it.

If dating were a “numbers game”—if exposure to more people meant dating more people—then people would just go to the nearest concert venue, introduce themselves to as many people as they can, and magically end up with a date. — Sophia Benoit, GQ

Yes, some people have managed to beat the odds and find someone via a dating site blah blah blah. So what? Some people also win the lottery. That doesn’t mean buying a lottery ticket, or 100 of them, is a good use of your time/money/energy.

DELETE ALL THE THINGS! Or don’t, wev. But I wrote four crappy pomes this week for my book of crappy pomes instead of BSing on the Book of Face, and I am feeling gosh-darned great about that.

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Number Jumbo

Some of my friends have been discussing aging, the number itself as opposed to general health. In the past, I was more concerned with the actual number ~ a couple birthdays provoked strong reactions. My 45th was particularly upsetting, although I kept those feelings mainly to myself as they had to do with my disintegrating marriage and there was no one I could talk to about it at the time. My parents always tried to be emotionally supportive and I chatted with them a little, but they were of the generation that believed in staying together no matter what (as they did themselves) and that was not the best path for me. My 50th was stressful as well: I thought I was simply physically ill, but I understand now that it was partly psychological too. My divorce was in progress, though tense, and I was in a highly toxic new relationship. Not a good combo.

Then from October 2011 through 2016 , I had to be concerned with age. Why? Because I was on dating sites. There’s no way not to be obsessed with age if you’re “dating while older.” Most DWO men are obsessed with age, a huge percentage of them desiring much younger women while simultaneously lying about their own age, along with whatever else. (If you’re not one of these guys, great!) It’s really difficult to keep a positive attitude when chatting with the next one who comes along. Even if you stroll onto a site perfectly okay with yourself, your age, looks, education, occupation, personality, et cetera, it takes a really strong, confident woman to maintain that mindset in the face of relentless rejection, criticism, gaslighting, trolling, and the general assholishness of men online. I can’t believe I put myself through that BS for five years.

(Remember, if you’re a non-asshole guy, wonderful! No need to tilt against windmills in my comments. I know there are some of you.)

I spent last year detoxing from dating sites. As an added bonus I no longer stress about age, or spend money trying to look younger. Feh! I just realized this today when some friends mentioned their inner 25 year olds. I told my inner 25 year old to hit the road a while ago. Good riddance, silly girl! I’m almost 57 and that’s a perfectly fine age to be. I’m enjoying it very much, thank you. (Well, not the achiness, but you can’t have everything.)

It’s nice to engage in convos with friends about aging sans the anxiety the topic used to provoke. There are enough stressful subjects otterwise. Like did you know housecats would totally murder you if they were just a bit larger? Oh yes!

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~*~

The Daily Prompt: Provoke

Creature Features & Jigsaw Puzzles

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I have a clear memory of watching Creature Features with my mom in the basement of our townhouse in Illinois, which she had turned into a rec room with a ping-pong table, TV, stereo, etc. It was Illinois, if you missed that in the preceding sentence, 40 miles north of Lake Michigan, where it got so cold that if you dropped a record on the floor it would shatter like a dinner plate. (This actually happened.)

I’ve always said I remember putting giant jigsaw puzzles together with my mom while we watched scary movies, and generally, but I was trying to call up a specific memory of this and it’s not working. It actually doesn’t even make sense. The only table we had in the basement large enough for a 1000-2000 piece puzzle was on the side of the room that didn’t have the TV. The stairs were in the middle. Right in front of the stairs was a little storage type room my dad used as a darkroom for photography. On the right side was a TV, sofa, coffee table, etc. On the left side was an old dining room table, another sofa, and the stereo system. We would have had to use the old dining table for the puzzles. So how would we have been watching Creature Features at the same time? Memory fail.

Even though I enjoyed these campy horror movies at the time (because mommy was there), I’ve disliked horror since. Pretty much the entire horror film genre falls into the dislike pile, but I do reserve some exceptions for books, Stephen King in particular. It’s not because the movies themselves are all terrible; it’s because I don’t enjoy having my emotions manipulated to that extent. Now you’ll say I don’t mind the same thing when it happens in the romcoms. And I’ll just shrug. Because people are inconsistent, and I’m a people too. Shockeroo!

The two Creature Features that stayed with me all these years I dub “Coconut Sea Monster” and “Alpine Beheader.” The first was about guys on a military submarine who kept getting murdered brutally cuz one of them had morphed into a monster due to radiation exposure. We didn’t see the murderer until the end and he looked like he was covered in coconut. It was really freaky! The otter one was about peeps trapped in a ski resort during a blizzard and some snow vampire kept grabbing one at a time and ripping off their head. Icky!

You know, this could very well be why I dislike both sailing and skiing. A-ha!

Still love coconut though. Nothing comes between me and a coconut donut.

As far as jigsaw puzzles, still love doing those, but don’t have room for them in my current place, can’t isolate one from the kitty anyway, and they seem sort of time-wastey when I have so many otter projects I want to finish as far as writing and needlework and staring at the walls. Someday though… when I retire maybe, bring on the jigsaw puzzles again! Hey, I wonder if they have Creature Feature puzzles? That could be a thing.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Creature

Peeve Tuesday

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Last week I ordered a couple essentials from Amazon: cat food and hairspray. I order a lot of stuff from Amazon, a lot. They know who I am and where to find me. As does the clown who signed me up for Us Magazine ~ thanks a lot, dingdong. I don’t want it, I’m not interested in celebs, and it’s going straight to the trash. No one better bill me for it either! (Okay fine, I have been glancing through it, under protest. It’s very shiny.)

Anyway, I forgot my essentials were scheduled to arrive on Sunday because I was so wrapped up in watching The Big Game, as one does. But yesterday I thought, hey, where’s my stuffs? So, I did the tracky thing and lo found an exception. Amazon outsourced my delivery to USPS, who couldn’t get in.

Let’s think about this for a moment. The actual U.S. Post Office, who delivers my actual mail (rain or shine), didn’t know how to get into my apartment complex. WTF? How do they deliver my real mail then? No problem, I figured, I have an account with them, so I will contact them, give them my gate code (idiots), so they can redeliver.

Nope, nope, nope. Can’t do that. Only the sender can intercept. I could be some weirdo trying to steal someone else’s cat food and hairspray in the middle of the delivery. With my own log-in credentials where they have my real name, address, etc, and I’d be at risk of a felony for committing mail fraud. To steal cat food and hairspray. Yes, that could happen and the Post Office isn’t taking any chances. Can’t contact Amazon to give them the gate code to give to USPS because the transaction is now out of their hands. All gone, wheee!

The only thing for me to do is wait and see what happens. Either the USPS buttheads will redeliver my package properly or they’ll return it to Amazon, at which time I can ask them to use another delivery service, or pick it up myself at one of their stations. Luckily however on Monday (yesterday) the next USPS mailperson figured out how to get into my apartment complex (miracle!) and delivered my package.

I received an email notice at noon that my package had been “left with an individual.” An individual? What? Why? Who? I don’t even know any of my neighbors. Would I have to knock on doors saying, “Excuse me sir do you haz my cat food and hairspray?” Was not looking forward to this scenario. NOT AT ALL. Though it could be a romance novel cute meet… But this is real life, and I don’t meet men cutely, or in any way whatsoever. I just want my G.D. cat food and hairspray!

Why is life so hard? I want my mommy! Waaah!

In any case, I had to go out to dinner with friends last night and was forced to play a long complicated game that was sort of like… scrabble plus poker and… well, I can’t explain it, too weird, but it went on forever and I got home after 10PM… and guess what?

MY PACKAGE WAS RIGHT OUTSIDE MY DOOR!!!

What a week I’m having. And it’s only Tuesday.