More Fun In The 7th Level

Okay, it almost seems like the punchline of a joke. What's worse than going to the dentist? Going to the dentist when you are sick. And what's worse than that? They are playing fucking Christmas music already. Already. I know, it's after Thanksgiving, but my calendar here says November people. Wait until December 1st, at least. Sadly, the sound of the scraping did not cover the sound of the music. And even more sadly, feeling all congested, I took a sudafed before I went. So the hygenist keeps sucking what moisture there was out of my mouth so she could do stuff. And with the wonders of sudafed, my mouth was not re-moisturizing itself well. Ugh.

I have to say, despite a crappy attempt at flossing and I really don't know the last time I ran my Sonicare for the full two minutes, I still have a pretty good mouth of teeth. I know, this is partly genetic, and it's partly because my parents dragged me to the dentist a lot as a kid, and made me drink milk, and all that good stuff. I take little credit for my mouth. I didn't even go to the dentist for five to six years in my middle twenties because I had no health insurance, and quite frankly, was scared of going to the dentist. I still hate going, but in some ways, it's better than being at work.

I just finished Stephen King's latest book and it was really good. I am a huge fan of his works, for the most part. He definitely went through periods of time when his writing was major shite. I read his autobiographical book where he talked about being drunk the entire time when writing Tommyknockers. Uh, yeah, no shit. That book made almost no sense. I was also slightly dissapointed by how he ended the Dark Tower series. I don't know, I was probably expecting something else. It was a good ending, but not quite the fanfare I would have hoped for. In any case, I'm happy to see that he hasn't really retired despite talking about it, and he's back with writing detailed, vivid stories where you actually feel something for the characters and are concerned when something bad happens to them.

I haven't been to therapy for three weeks, so even though I feel like the lovechild of crap and vomit right now, I should drag my ass. Two weeks ago, my leader called in sick. A week ago, well, that was right before Thanksgiving and quite frankly, since I got off work at 2, I went home and went to sleep. So I should drag my ass there tonight. I just dosed myself with more sudafed. Pray for me!

Recollections Of Bus Riding

When I was in high school, it was just grades 10-12. I know most schools aren't like that today. When I started 10th grade, we had just moved into a new house so I could be in the "right" school district. (Is that an LA thing?) I started taking the public bus (Blue Bus!) to school. After a few weeks, I started noticing this guy getting on one stop after me. I had actually seen him before a year or two ago as the boyfriend of someone I used to be friends with, but I found out from her that they had broken up. For some reason, he just seemed fascinating to me. I knew so little about him, other than his name and that he was two years older than me, a senior.

There was something punk rock about him. And not in an obvious way, he didn't have a mohawk or anything, but really short hair. He used to wear black Doc Martens and jeans with a hole in them. In the hole, you could see he had leg hair. Somehow that struck me as sexy and grown up at the same time. He seemed to reek of esoteric, masculine intelligence.

Since he got off the bus one stop away from mine, one day I got off the same stop as him and I followed him home. I wrote his address on a piece of paper. I went into my job and typewrote him a note telling him that I had a crush on him. I remember thinking that I had better typewrite it so he didn't find out who it was. I addressed it to him, and sent it. I also remember writing down his parents' license plate number, thinking I would "trace" it or something.

Then, a few days later, I sent another note, this time with my phone number in it. Then a day or so later, he called me. I was so excited. But nervous on the phone. We talked for a few hours. He didn't really know whom I was, despite us having met once through his old girlfriend. But we talked for an hour or two, and he said that I seemed really nice, and that he would give me a call after the weekend and we could go have coffee or something. (I assume coffee was brought up, but since this is more than half my life ago, I don't remember exactly if it was stated.) Then, on Monday afternoon, I got a message from him saying he had met someone else over the weekend and was dating her.

I think this might have been the first time I was depressed over a guy. I remember quite clearly, ruminating over the "should have given him my phone number sooner, should have made a date sooner" over and over again in my head until I was numb from it. I remember picturing everything in my head so clearly, that I would do things better, that I would be better, that I would be more interesting. I blamed it on my appearance, on not being smart enough. And really, none of it had anything to do with me.

He ended up dating this girl who was in my class. She was one of those girls who dressed pretty alternative, for the 80s anyway, wearing brightly colored tights. But she just seemed very ordinary to me, average pretty, kind of an annoying voice. At least, that's how I think of her now. How did I feel about her at the time? I'm not sure. I was probably intimidated by her, thought she was way cooler, way thinner, way more interesting than me. I was so envious of her. She didn't have to chase this guy around, follow behind him at his bus stop. It all just kind of worked out nicely for her. I remember her showing the pictures of him and her to a friend of mine, talking about how she took the pictures because she wasn't sure people would believe that she had a boyfriend, and my friend was like, why not, you are pretty.

Then, he ended up dumping her at some point that year. I don't know any of the circumstances, other than I remember it happening. At that point, I started feeling sorry for her. I never really thought, "oh I should call him up and see what happens." Because I saw her heart getting broken, and thought, oh wait, that could be me. I know there is that old saying about having loved and lost being better than having never loved at all, but I'm not sure. In a way, whatever I felt for him was pure, mostly indiluted by him as a person. But it was probably mostly fictional and physical. If I had actually hooked up with him, he probably would have been the first person I had sex with. And we would have broken up, I'm sure. He was a few years older, going off to college, more mature. The whole thing would have been tons more painful if we had had a relationship.

Sometime much later, I thought about how cool I was to send some random guy love notes. The whole thing was silly, but it was also sincere and daring. And everything else that came after was just extra stuff. But it took me a long time to think that without feeling some pain.

Composing Myself

I am SO tired. I hope that wherever you are, whatever you are doing while reading this, you aren't as tired as I am. Ugh. Oh by the way, this is my 150th post.

Thanksgiving weekend was very relaxing. I was busy almost every day but not busy all day. On Thanksgiving Day, we had the boyfriend's family festivities. As much as sometimes the boyfriend drives me batshit, I look at what he came from and I have to forgive him. His wicked stepsisters are a large part of the problem. Drunken and obnoxious, this one kept repeating the same boring ass story over and over again. I wanted to say, wow, I didn't care the first time. In any case, the pies from Costco were good and the kitties liked turkey leftovers.

Friday and Saturday, I put in four hours each day at the Humane Society. I managed to sell some cats. I was talking to the guy who co-ordinates the cat volunteers, and I told him about how I often will suggest too many cats to someone. He told me that it's like real estate and no one pays attention after the third one. I do think with over one hundred cats, people are easily overwhelmed. But I got to see some good cats go to good homes, and for that, I am very grateful.

Yesterday, I did almost nothing. I was sitting around, fiddling on the computer, for most of the day. At one point, I woke up and noticed it was five PM and I really hadn't eaten much. The boyfriend was awake, and we went to the local Erik's Deli for sandwiches and soup, perfect for the crappy weather we are having. We have done this quite a few times, have our orders down, and split a bag of chips and a piece of carrot cake. There was this moment of peace in that, having this pattern, this thing I do with him. It was really nice.

I'm just struggling today with trying to stay awake. I'm sure tomorrow will be easier. This morning Teddy woke me up by knocking my glasses on the floor, and then the clock radio came on and Teddy freaked out hearing Beck's new song and ran out of the room. I don't know why every day of the weekend, Teddy let me sleep in and he slept in with me, but somehow today he knew I had to go to work.

Pie R Rounded

I got to leave work early yesterday. I went home and got the boyfriend and we went to Costco to get pies. They have a pumpkin pie there for $6 which seems unbelievably cheap, especially considering it's the size of a hubcap. Whenever anything is that cheap, I wonder if it was made by child labor or some other bad labor practice, but in this case, it's probably just the Costco elves who make everything. Even if the pie is not great, it was only six dollars. Not to mention most people don't like pumpkin pie anyway. We also got a pecan pie which looks delicious. I would have almost gone for a third pie, but that would have been total overkill.

Also I managed to talk to the boyfriend into doing a wee bit of thinking about the holiday shopping. Most of my holiday shopping this year, well the burdensome part anyway, is for his family. I like buying stuff for all my friends and my mom. My dad is difficult to buy for, but I'm sure I'll figure something out. I am really not stressing about holiday shopping this year. I might stress on December 23rd, but that's over a month away.

We had dinner at Carl's Jr which was perfect for my state of the month. Yay for grease. I had the jalapeno burger, which burns in a good way, and onion rings. It was perfect.

The only downside is that my left eye is annoying the crap out of me. I had some vision issues yesterday, everything was blurry like I had cataracts. And now, after taking my contacts out, my eye still hurts. Just the left one. At least my vision isn't blurry anymore. I could barely read last night, which is totally disturbing to me. I even went to bed before House because it hurt to look at the TV.

Hi, Anxiety

I called in sick to work yesterday. I woke up in the middle of the night, well, early Monday morning, and I couldn't get back to sleep. For over two hours. I haven't had that level of anxiety for a while, and I forgot how bad it just sucks. I cannot function on such low levels of sleep. In any case, the anxiety sucked, but not going to work was cool. And I found out that my lame coworker called in sick for the sixth day in a row, so my boss had to cover a lot of shit. And boy, she was not happy.

Went out to dinner with pregnant friend #2 who is due fairly soon. She is getting tired of being pregnant, tired of random comments from total strangers. I hope the baby comes fairly quickly, though since this is her first, it might not.

For some reason, my contact lenses are driving me crazy today. They are both blurry. I have taken both out and used a bit of eyedrops on them, but that hasn't helped. I honestly feel like I have cataracts in both eyes, all blurry. Annoying. And it makes me sleepy. Not like I'm not sleepy anyway from not sleeping well, and not to mention having my period. Joy.

Aunt On The Run

I woke up early so I could get over to the hospital and see my friend Heather and le bebe. It's a huge change from the last time she had a baby four and a half years ago. With her first child, the stupid doctor found one issue with her and started coming up with all kinds of crap including my absolute favorite, indeterminate gender. I mean, I know this happens sometimes, but for them to say, oh yeah it's a girl, and then come back with the indeterminate gender. So they brought the baby by, her father opened her diaper, and we all agreed, "girl!"

With the second child, there were none of these crazy theories because she's absolutely issue free. We're all grateful for that. Heather has had to go through a lot of development issues with her first, and I'm glad the second one is going to be a walk in the park. And the new baby is pretty cute, though since she was born a Scorpio, there's going to be some trouble when she is a teenager.

Then I motored to the Humane Society, and spent three hours with the cats. There hadn't been a lot of volunteers working, so there was a lot to be done. I did get to spend some time with the nice cat who wasn't put down because so many volunteers told the management that he is a good cat and whatever happened was a misunderstanding.

I had an experience I've never had before. I was showing a customer this seven month old cat, and he got kind of irritated, so she put him down and I was going to pick him up and put him back in his kennel. But instead, he leaped at me and hit my forehead really hard. It was bleeding for a while (I guess he used his claws) and it still hurts a little. I didn't think the little guy was that strong. I finally got him back in his cage.

It's kind of weird, because it's 8 PM and I really just feel like going to sleep. I was taking a nap on the couch until I felt something that woke me up. The something was Ted walking over me. right now, he and Kiki are right next to me, sleeping. One of them is snoring but I can't tell which one. Cute.

OMG, LOL, TGIF, & Welcome To Beta

OMG:
My friend had her baby today. Her husband sent out the email about twenty minutes after the baby was born. From the sound of his email, the labor was quick and everything is fine, but obviously I'm going to need to talk to my friend to get all the details. Well, as many as she wants to tell me. I want to try to get up there tonight to see her and possibly see the baby too. Sometimes they are doing all kinds of tests and stuff, but last time she had a kid, they brought the baby around somewhere into my visit. Newborns are pretty alien looking.

LOL:
The Office was freaking hilarious last night. I swear that show has so many laugh out loud moments. I love how Dwight has a new competitor now. And Michael's cluelessness and obvious rip-offs of pop culture (Lazy Scranton!) make me laugh out loud. And I have to admit, now that Jim is "taken," I sort of have a crush on him too. I'm sure Pam will win out in the end, eventually.

TGIF:
Enough said about that one. This week has been crappy, draggy, and annoying. I'm just glad it's almost over.

Welcome To Beta:
I finally switched over, changed the template, updated my links, and added these nifty labels. Okay, why does every post have a label of cats? Seriously. I also think that I blogged about work more than I actually did. And I was thinking I should add another label of happiness or gratitude or something. I went back and labeled a bunch of old posts, but it was a bit too laborious so my past labels are incomplete.

Real Therapy

Last night, I got a call at three in the afternoon that therapy was canceled. So I went to the mall instead. Theoretically to start my holiday shopping, but I really just bought stuff for myself because November 15 seems too damn early to start the holiday shopping unless one is like, going overseas soon or something. I did see lots of nice gifts for myself though, ha ha. I usually just buy people what I would like as a gift, and sometimes it even works. I got myself more makeup, a red sweater, more underwear, and a black tank top from Nordstrom's that was ridiculously on sale. I actually had the self control to leave the mall after I had spent $100, and I also didn't stop at the Cheesecake Factory for cheesecake to bring home. Double good for me. I have to laud myself for little crap like that.

It's been such a long ass week. My coworker has been out again all week. There is one manager here who is acting sympathetic for me. Like over and over again. His being so nice is actually a little bit creepy because it strikes me that it's not really sincere, more like faux-sincere. If I was one of those people who sat in a pool of melancholy all day, I might appreciate his trying to participate in my pity party, but quite frankly, I'd rather focus on the positives of things. Like, it's almost the end of the day on Thursday. And even if the jackass doesn't show up tomorrow, it's still Friday. And next week is a three day week. And even though we are spending it with the boyfriend's drunken family, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday (next to my birthday, of course).

My BFF (ha) Heather is in the hospital now, probably giving birth. She called in the late morning saying they were going to induce her because her blood pressure was highish. Hopefully all is going okay. I was thinking, oh yeah I could just show up at the delivery room, but I would imagine that such a scene would not only put me off on ever having kids of my own, it would also put me off babies, being in hospitals, having a vagina... I kind of picture it like those gory scenes in Gone With The Wind where they are chopping people's infected legs off. I know, I know, it's not that bad. I mean, if it were, no one would ever have a second child, right?

Happy Half-Birthday Little Ted

Today Teddy is six months old. I found this picture on my computer. You can see how he throws the dry food everywhere around his placemat (from Target, natch) and the floor. Seriously, the boyfriend probably sweeps and mops the kitchen floor once a week, and still, there is food everywhere. Most of it has bites taken out of it.

Did you ever celebrate your half-birthday when you were a kid? I did. Seriously, I remember getting half-presents (usually half-dollars) and stuff like that. It's not like they threw an actual party (or even a half-party) but for some reason, my parents would recognize this event a little bit. When you are young, that half year makes a huge deal. You always tell people your age as "four and a half."

I was kind of dorky in that I continued to tell people that "and a half" as I became an adult. I remember telling a friend of mine that I was "twenty-seven and a half" and he was like, uh, I didn't think adults said stuff like that. Well, I do. Or I did. I think the last time I said it was probably when I turned twenty-nine and a half. Because, once I hit thirty, I would put off recognizing the half for as long as possible. Until thirty, I felt like I was working towards a goal. But now, my age itself seems like it's just downhill, or I'd be better off just saying that I'm still tweny-nine. However, I don't feel that way about my life, just about my age. I feel like my life is still going uphill, but I don't want a reminder of the number on the odometer!

Faster Fluffycat!

I had a few times this weekend where I just felt foul, and I would take a nap. Isn't that a great solution, feel bad, take a nap, and wake up feeling better? Too fucking bad I can't do it during the week. We've been having such random weather; it actually dropped cold enough on Friday for me to try to turn on our heat for the first time. Of course, we go to turn it on and the pilot light isn't lit, and then the boyfriend keeps trying to turn it on. We didn't get it working until yesterday, when of course it was totally warm at night and we had no need for the heat.

I was supposed to go out to dinner with my two pregnant friends last night, but one of them was going to be induced that day, so she flaked out, then the other one wasn't feeling well, and she flaked out. And then the first one wasn't induced, but still couldn't come. So I just picked up Quizno's on the drive home and had that for dinner. The boyfriend was taking a nap (since he has been sick and having sleep problems), so I hung around with the cats. They took naps too, one on either side of me. It was pretty cute. Kiki has the cutest little snores.

Work has been rather crappy. My coworker is doing one of his usual call in sick for a few days in a row, so the last few days it's been me running the show. And let's face it, I can't run the show without a lot of bitching on my part and being resentful and griping. I really have made a huge effort to feel less of that way, display less of that way, keep my mouth more shut, and it works for the most part.

How To Save A Life

Aren't they adorable? Kiki and Teddy were actually managing to be civilized together and take naps a mere foot from each other. You can see how big Teddy has gotten in this pic. Kiki is a small 8.5 lb cat, and Teddy is nearing her size.

There was this really nice orange tabby that I interacted with last Saturday at the Humane Society. On Sunday, he bit a customer and was put into quarantine. What they will usually do is keep the cat around for ten days, and then they mysteriously disappear. It's almost Orwellian, the cat dissapears from the website, never to be seen again. This cat does not exist, this cat never existed. This is one of the darker things of volunteering there.

Well, this one cat has mobilized a lot of us volunteers who can't believe this orange tabby would be malicious. If he were biting, he was either being playful or was provoked. The volunteer who was supposedly showing him to the customer turned her back and wasn't paying attention, and then told the customer to report it. Maybe she just didn't know what would happen. Yesterday, I talked to someone who was working with the cat in quarantine, and had her put in some good words about him on the computer. I was very assertive in asking about his status, and saying that I think he's a good kitty and shouldn't be put down for one mistake. Several of the other volunteers will do the same, and hopefully he should make it out of quarantine by the front door.

Mitzvah Of My Own

I never got a bat mitzvah. For some reason I was thinking about that today. I even started Hebrew school. I did a year of it, and I was doing very well. I really think they make the class pretty easy, so everyone can stay in it, but I got all As. It was so basic, mostly just learning the letters and a few simple words. Why did I drop out? I think I was just intimidated by the people in my class, in a social way. They all seemed cooler and older than me, and I didn't know how to relate to them. I didn't even feel like the nerd of the class; I just felt out of place. I felt like they were only a few steps away from mocking me.

If I remember anything from my youth, I remember being intimidated a lot of new people and new situations. I always felt like I was a bit socially awkward, and had a hard time relating to people my age. I always got labeled "shy" or "sensitive." People saw me as quiet, not in a scary sociopath way, but just involved in my own things, my own head. I was a classic introvert.

At some point, I changed. I had a job when I was in high school where I worked at an office with people who were at least 10 years older than me. And there were a lot of women there who accepted me, took me under their wing, or what have you. At the office, being smart didn't mean ridicule, it meant people would give me more work to do and help me learn new things. I felt like they saw the real me better than my peers.

Then I got to college, UC Santa Cruz. The one thing about Santa Cruz that mattered most was their acceptance of individual differences. I met people who were just interesting, amazing, intense ... outsiders. I still consider a few of these people, particularly my friend K, to be really good friends. And I felt for the first time, accepted. And once I was accepted, I started being myself. But it took a lot of time, and I was still very shy and nervous in new situations. I started hiding my shyness by being very loud, very funny, always ready to party. I wouldn't say I had a drinking problem, but alcohol definitely greased the skids, made it way easier to loosen up.

Then, I got out of college, and started in the working world. My first job, I was very intimidated by everyone. I eventually started getting chatty, working through it. My boss described me as chatty and gregarious. I was only at that job for six months, and in some ways, it was six of the longest months of my life. I never had any real work to do, and would just spend the day in a sort of a fugue state, watching the mouse go back and forth on the screen. This was before the internet, so there wasn't a lot to do.

Somehow, this short story has turned long. I haven't figured out quite what happened, but over time, I grew to just accept myself. I used to worry about every word I said, analyze it and hit my head like that Chris Farley Show sketch that he used to do. I remember clearly, coming home and thinking people must have thought I was dumb, or how I always said the wrong things.

But now, I don't do that anymore. I say stuff, and people will deal with it, or not. I wouldn't say that I'm always "myself" all the time, especially at work. I have learned to self-censor in certain arenas. But as time goes on, I learn more and more to accept whom I am. It's okay to say stupid things sometimes. It's okay if I feel a different way from everyone else. I'm entitled to my feelings. And everyone in my Hebrew school class was probably as insecure as I was, they just dealt with it in different ways. At some point in my mid-twenties, I really wished that I had gotten bat mitzvahed, because I knew a few people who got so much money from theirs that they were able to buy cars when they were sixteen. Last night I was thinking that I wish I had learned more Hebrew, so I could add another language to my repetoire, and so I could understand things better. But I can't live in regret of what I didn't do, only try to make the best decisions about my life now.

Shoppapalooza

I went to Target and Petco after work yesterday, and managed to spend $50 at each. I think that is very good spending under $100 at Target. They have this gigantic two-story Target in San Jose, and it's just a total shopper's paradise. The aisles were lined with these gift packages of drugstore items. Who doesn't need a 3-pack of hand sanitzers? I managed to not buy that much stuff, but I'm definitely going back there for holiday shopping. They had these really nice candles. Okay, must calm down!

Petco was fun. The Humane Society sent over a few of their cats for the cat area at Petco. They have about eight cats there up for adoption. The habitat is actually very nice, even nicer than anything at the Humane Society. I think some of that is because they keep it spotlessly clean, otherwise Petco customers complain. The volunteers were very nice, and the cats seemed happy. And my cats were very happy that I got many bags of litter, so we could clean out both of the litterboxes.

I'm fairly drained today. I don't know if I am coming down with a new cold. The boyfriend has been mildly sick for weeks, and yesterday it broke through with him being extremely sick. He seemed pretty miserable yesterday, poor thing. I got him some of that Airborne stuff as it seems to work for me.

Teddy has been extremely sweet and cuddly lately. Though he did learn something in the middle of the night. He can't bite my feet through the comforter, but if he gets under the comforter he can bite my feet. I really am hoping he grows out of this. Maybe I should start rubbing cat repellant on my feet? Or stop using tuna-scented moisturizer?

Don't Go To Therapy Happy

Usually, I find my Wednesday therapy group uplifting. I may be tired and dragged down by work, but I find myself energized and revitalized, learning and growing. But last night, I was happy when I stepped into the place, and completely demoralized when I left.

We were talking about abusive relationships, yet again. I know I have issues with the boyfriend, sometimes he has abusive patterns, but I'm really loath to label our relationship "an abusive relationship." Quite frankly, once you start labeling things, you can label EVERYTHING abusive. Oh, he doesn't agree with me and argues with me? Abuse! He doesn't like my cooking and says it's crap? Abuse! Okay, I'm exaggerating it a little bit, but it just seems like a very dark road to go down. A lot of what my leader constantly says in therapy is that WE are the ones responsible for what happens to us, but then I think when you start labeling the boyfriend as the abuser, it takes away from that idea. I know sometimes he does and says things that are out of line, and then I tell him that it bothers me. And what the leader was saying was that the first time someone does something that is out of line, a "red flag" behavior, one should not be involved with them. Oh that sounds great, but quite frankly, everyone has something wrong with them, everyone has some issue, and if you dig deep enough, everyone is flawed.

The other thing she brought up is that we all have something to heal from, and that's why we repeat the same mistakes. I don't know, I have no problems admitting that I need to work on my past, deal with things, but I'm not a survivor of some horrific childhood either. In fact, I think that their whole concentration on childhood being the root source of all your problems limits you. Sure, my parents weren't perfect, and I didn't get the childhood I wanted, but who does. I know people who have had horrific childhoods where they suffered horrible abuse, and I really think nothing that happened to me can even compare with that. I think that psychiatry's overwhelming desire to delve into your childhood, when it's not always the cause of things, shows the limitations of it being a "science."

Usually, the leader doesn't speak in absolutes about things, but last night she was. Also there is this woman there, who I like very much, who was talking about "why would you ever stay in that relationship?" She has said that about me before. Okay, you are entitled to your opinion, however someone who has never been in a real long-term relationship as near as I can tell, just doesn't get it. Part of being in a long-term relationship is compromising, is accepting that NO ONE is perfect. Maybe the person you are with isn't the "right" person for you, but there is not going to be anyone out there who is 100% perfect, who never pisses you off, who never does the wrong thing.

Last night, I was talking to the friend that I've known the longest, the one who got married this summer. She was all, how is the boyfriend. I say, fine. Then she says, well are you going to marry him? I said, well, I am happy the way things are. Because I am. I wouldn't want to marry him unless he changed drastically, but I am happy being involved with him. I'm not defensive about it; I'm trying to be open-minded and realistic. I think he has issues. I think I have issues. I think everyone does. And I think in one way or another, everyone takes out their issues on other people, the people closest to them. We'd like not to do that. In a perfect world, we wouldn't. But this is no perfect world.

And I don't really want a boyfriend that caters to my every whim, that kowtows to me, that tells me I'm just so fucking perfect that sun shines out of my ass and my morning breath smells like vanilla and strawberries. I want someone to love me, recognizing I'm not perfect, but loving me anyway.

I don't know, maybe I'm just bitter and angry about it, and I'm still not at the root of the problem. It seemed like there was an implication that everyone who stays with someone who is not good to them all the time is fucked up, and I really don't think that's true.

Cat Mitzvah

I should be looking at my voting pamphlet to figure out where my polling place is and how I'm going to vote, but instead I'm looking for pictures online of Jewish cats. I was thinking that when Kiki turns thirteen, I'm going to have a cat mitzvah for her. I need to figure out what kind of Jewish costume a Jewish girl cat would wear and what we could do for her. I was thinking of having a party for her where people can give her money. Haha. She is a pretty shy cat and would totally hate this, but it sounds too cute not to do. And I have five years to plan, figure out what her Hebrew name could be.

Hot Or Not

Heather and I were having a conversation today about whether or not we consider ourselves hot, or rather, would we go around talking about it. I guess we got on this conversation today because were talking about B, the boyfriend's sister, who is on another diet again. Now, she is one of those women who not only considers herself hot, she will spend quite a long time telling you just how hot she is. And, yes, that's just as boring as it sounds to listen to.

I'm all for self-esteem. I think it's good for people to have a good opinion of themselves, and their looks. Even if you have to inflate it a little bit, after all, we aren't all Angelina Jolie. Anyone who is continually telling themselves and everyone around them how beautiful they are, probably isn't very secure in their looks. And quite frankly, it's nice to be beautiful, but it's the stuff inside that counts.

I have another friend who is always talking about how beautiful she is, yadda yadda. She told me that her parents always told her that she was the most beautiful woman when she was growing. And now that she has a child, she says the same crap to her child. I suppose it's nice, if you can continue to believe that shit, but quite frankly, it's way better to develop other skills that will last longer. Beauty isn't pretty after 40-50 years of hard living.

I've seen this friend have an attitude of, I'm so beautiful so why does bad stuff happen to me. Or, I'm so beautiful, so I deserve more than this man. Well, ugly people deserve love too. And, all people deserve things based on their very existence. One of the first books I read on self esteem, Maximum Self-Esteem, said in the first chapter that everyone deserves good stuff not based on what kind of car they drive, how much money they make, how tall they are, etc., but based on their very nature of being human and being alive. This was kind of hard for me to swallow when I first read it, I mean, aren't more intelligent people more deserving of things? But really, you should feel proud of yourself without having to compare yourself to others, without tearing other people down.

So, I do consider myself hot. But I don't go around bragging about it. I was brought up to put more stock in my mental abilities, than in my physical appearance. My parents didn't tell me over and over how beautiful I was. In fact, I was probably a generically "average-cute" kid. I think I was pretty unattractive as an adolescent. And as I get older, I think I'm above-average good looking, but I'm sure not everyone would think that. I'm not going to spend time trying to convince other people and myself of my own attractiveness, because that takes away from me just existing and believing in it.

Blogger Ate My Last Post

Strangely enough, it said it had posted, and I saw it up there, and then poof, not there. Very odd. For some reason, I have energy to make a new post, but no energy to recreate it from memory or anything like that.

I am catching up on laundry and other stuff. I also cleaned out my car a little and looked for the certificate for rabies shots for Teddy (which unfortunately expired about a month ago). I ended up flipping through his medical files too. I have to read those same things at the Humane Society and I only understand part of them. Anyway, I discovered he was found on a few blocks from where we are living now. And I read the notes about his massive head trauma, with no outward signs, which definitely means it was done by a human and not another animal. Maybe someone threw him from a car? I don't know, I just hope he doesn't remember any of that.

I really should do some additional cleaning but I also don't feel like it. Ha ha. I am not even energetic enough to come up with a good excuse.

Pseudowhat?

Doesn't Teddy totally have this Barry White look down pat? "You and me, baby, we gonna go into the kitchen and get us some cat food. Then later, we gonna go to the bedroom and you can pet me and I will purr."

I do feel somewhat sick. Not wretchedly sick, but not normal either. I just took more sudafed, and am hoping that it clears me out. Ugh. The worst part is this constant feeling of tiredness, even more than my usual I'm-bored-at-work tiredness. I did make it to therapy last night but felt too tired to make much sense.

I did say one good thing though. Our group is about transitions, and most of the people are there because they are transitioning from or to something, usually trying to dump their husband and get a divorce. I couldn't come up a real thing that I would say I'm transitioning to. I guess I am transitioning to the next third of my life, as the title of the blog says. But what I did say was, I'm transitioning from being a depressed person to not being a depressed person. That sounds like a worthy goal to me.

Why I Don't Drink (Very Much)

I don't know why it is, but I seem to be the kind of person who attracts drunken confessions. Maybe because I don't drink myself very much, and when I do drink, I try to keep my mouth shut. Yeah, I learned that lesson the hard way. Anyway, last night, the boyfriend's sister was telling me a bunch of stuff about her life. Now, I admit, I love gossip as much as anyone, and sometimes the things that happen in his family are just freaking bizarre, like something out of a Spelling night-time soap. But when it starts getting maudlin, I want to walk away from the table. And there is some sad stuff going on, which I won't get into. But last night, was weird.

The boyfriend has this sister that he's really close with. Let's just call her B. They are about as close as a brother and sister could be, staying on the right side of Flowers in the Attic, of course. You know I wouldn't mess with that if they were on the other side. Anyway, they lived together a lot as adults, as roommates, until she got married. Since I've known her, she has split with her husband and had a string of boyfriends. This new one, well she dumped him a while back because he was "boring." But she got back together with him a month or so ago, not sure why. He seems like a good stable guy, but he also irritates her. And despite her problems with him (and the fact that he's a raging alcoholic), her former husband was just about the most charming person she has been with. This new guy is pretty dull. Oh did I mention, he used to be her ex-husband's best friend?

Anyway, she was going off last night about how she doesn't feel madly in love with him, but he treats her really well and she thinks she's going to marry him, yadda yadda. And in fact, I think it's not a bad idea. I don't even really think she's "settling" per se. This guy seems to really love her and want to help her and put up with all her b.s. And quite frankly, better him than my boyfriend. Even if I weren't with my boyfriend, I wouldn't wish that on him. The sister can be overwhelming demanding and doesn't really have good boundaries when it comes to asking for things. She would pretty much let her whole family work for her, doing her household chores, etc., if they let her. I try to stay out of doing stuff like that, for the most part. This is getting long-winded because I'm trying to avoid specific examples, my blogging CYA. Deniability, woohoo.

Last night, she was talking about her whole ideas of the future, and what she wants to do with this guy, if she wants to have another kid (she's on the other side of 40, but I'm sure if she wanted to have another kid, she could), etc. And then she turned it around and started asking me how I felt about my future, if I wanted kids (since the boyfriend doesn't, this is something that his family has been asking me since I met him, which is a story for another time), and how I saw my relationship going. While he's there in the room, with his nephew, her son. Oy. See, this is why I don't drink, because if I did drink, I would have shot my mouth off about something. She, like everyone else in his family, is one of those people who would draw you into their confidence, and then turn around and talk shit about you. I know, it's not just his family. It's probably every family. And quite frankly, if I have issues with the boyfriend, it seems better to deal directly with him and not go through his sister.

Anyway, I had a good Halloween. I took the day off, hung out with my friend Heather and her daughter. We went to all-you-can-eat pizza, and once again, her daughter's eating skills impressed me. She particularly loved the pineapple from the Hawaiian pizza. Then I did dinner at the sister's, stayed up until midnight, and went to bed. Since I have today off too, I'm sitting around in a nightgown, thinking maybe I should take a shower and have a salad for lunch. I know I'd eventually get bored of sitting at home all the time, but it's very nice to do it once in a while. I feel a little bit sickly and tired, and I'm using that as an excuse to avoid doing any housework. Yay, me.