Catz

Wow I want another cat. I need to find a homeless unloved kitty and bring him home and love him to pieces. I just wrote the humane society about a tiger cat who has some Siamese in him. I love the Siamese. They're funny and goofy and talkative. I mean, look at this dude:


Maybe my two girlcats won't like it much but wow, I deserve another cat. People like me can't have just two cats. That's ridiculous. I hurt so bad I want a cat. I miss Moonbeam. When Alex went off on his forever walk and I never saw him again I went into such a tailspin. I was lost. I promised Ninja I wouldn't get any more cats though, she's an old lady and is enjoying her old ladyhood immensely. I got all her teef pulled and now she's perky as they get. Having a head full of bad teeth must have been sickening for her. Now she runs around and yells at the top of her lungs just to be funny.


I got Aida 6 weeks after Alex kitty disappeared. She needed me and I needed her. I didn't put her down for three weeks. She was so very tiny and so sick. She purred constantly and slept across my neck. She thinks I am her mamma.

If I get another cat, German will get mad at me and try to make me bring it back. The Big Suck about living here is Mr Wet Blanket. Okay so he keeps me out of jail. Whatever. And okay he took me in when I was desperate. sigh. Today I wanted sushi but he was a pain in the ass so we ended up at Chili's and it was awful. Tomorrow if I go out I am going out alone.

anon

The "Girlie Spot" is on the radio every night as I drive home. Sometimes I listen. Last night callers were picking a number and they would get a difficult question to answer.

One of them was, "If you knew there was going to be a nuclear war in one week, what would you do for that week?"

I would plant a tree.

You see, this sucks above all. Hope is unsinkable and it sucks. As suicidal and miserable as I get there's this part of me that is insane and thinks it will get better. Hope and Honesty don't live well together in the same house. I feel fractured, completely lacking in integrity with regard to my regard of this Life.

My head tells me there is no point whatever to this life and the rest of me keeps plugging along like the little engine that could.

I dressed very nicely today. I put on makeup. I filled the tank with liquid gold. I was on time to work. I did the best I could. The continuo was I am sad I am sad I am sad so many i loved are gone and i miss them and it hurts and i want to cry ahhhhhh too much love really will kill you. I smiled and nodded and was pleasant.

I called the plastic surgeon's office to find out how much liposuction costs and to find out how long I will be sidelined by reconstruction surgery. Can't find out til monday, doctor is out, assistant is out. I am thinking of the lipo because I think it really is better to look marvelous than to feel marvelous. Everything hurts, so it might as well look good.

German is downstairs watching a movie. I am glad he is out with his arm in a sling for a few more weeks because that means he won't let me stare at my navel for too long. Who am I kidding. I can't see my navel any more

What is a gift, really?

In his book, "Love, Medicine and Miracles" Bernie Siegel, M.D. asks his patients to ask themselves a number of probing questions. The one that caught me out was "What did you need from the cancer?"

Wow. He knows. He saw right through me, 30 years ago he knew I was going to be here with this head and this thinking.

I needed honesty and I think I got more than I wanted. It's hard to swallow. There's no going back. I feel like Neo second guessing his choice to take the red pill. blue pill. Whatever.

I got the real world, stripped of any ideals or suppositions, theories, hopes or fantasy. It is not a pretty place. I found out who my friends were and just how few they were. That was hard. I see people as they are, and I don't want to see it. It's horrible. Were my expectations really that high? Did I really think that most people are doing the best they can? Did I really think most people were interested in spiritual growth?

I have been whogging away on this thing for a couple months now and I can't get past this. The pain is endless. I can't accept this. So much hurt in this world. So much dividing people into Us and Them. I mean, aren't the natural disasters enough? Why do we need to watch eachother bleed?

What if this is all there is? What a truly awful thought. But maybe not, maybe it's a comforting thought.

I am only marginally choosing life each morning. I am not participating in any of my support groups. Not my cancer group; not my 12 step, and I don't want to try to make any new friends. I am doing brash and foolhardy things without so much as a touch of adrenaline rush. I might die. I might care. But I don't.

The only reason I don't commit suicide is because I'll be dead for most of eternity, which is a long time. So I put it off...also my cats would be really upset.

I remember watching the perfect human in the 5th Element finding out about things like war and genocide, and how it nearly destroyed her will to live, nearly killed her. Someone, somewhere, give me a reason to live.

oh beHAVE

I think of Bugs Bunny saying "If I dood it, I get a whuppin', but I dood it." I have an anger management problem. No problem with anger, I got plenty. I am waaay too old to be participating in Chicken on the highway with Great Big Vehicles. If the police see me now they'll say "Oh it's YOU again!" And if the driver of that Toyota truck sees me again he'll probably quarter panel me and drive off. Sigh.

Now I know this stems from anger at the cancer. I don't know if I'm sticking my neck out here. My Indian name would be "Sticks Her Neck Out." I don't know of anyone else who has written about surviving the trek down that road and the feelings that surface. They're big feelings, and they have to do with not being able to accept the world the way it is. Or the people therein.

I no longer participate actively in any of my support groups. I don't want to make any new friends. I don't trust anyone any more. It hurts way too much. Freddie Mercury's song "Too Much Love Will Kill You" is apropos to the way I feel. I cling to my home and my job and to German who is the one truly true-blue person in the universe that I can trust with my life.




I am thinking I will stay here. My little dream -- of having my own house with a garden in the woods, a pot bubbling on the stove and an open door for friends to find a safe haven -- all that's becoming blurry. I don't want friends in my house. I don't want to cook for people who are not really my friends. I don't like to cook. I don't want to be alone and my hands are in rough shape from arthritis. I don't like living on a busy corner in a semi-city but I can still plant things and see if I can get the birds to nest in the houses I paint.

Well that's it for now, gotta run to work. Spring is coming, that's a nice thing as always. I now have light brown hair instead of gray, and of course there is more of it. The plastic surgeon says that a couple more inflation sessions and I'll be ready for permanent implants. I'm going to the gym steadily and soon the weather will be nice enough for bicycling. I guess I am going to need to count my blessings daily. Ugh.