Tuesday, January 24, 2012

wisdom in wonderland...?

I feel like I'm sitting at a fork in the road, and I'm neither brave nor decisive enough to just get up, pick a path, and keep walking.

But I really, honestly, have no idea where I want to go.

At the prompting of my husband, I'm going to try to write more "about my life". When he told me he wanted me to do this, I snapped back, "Why would I want to do that? My life really sucks." I was stricken for a moment by how ugly this was coming out of my mouth, and I didn't understand where this burst of anger had come from. Was it because, in context, I felt like my writing was being unfairly judged against someone else's, far superior, writing? Yes, maybe. But the rage that I was feeling wasn't just about jealousy or annoyance. It was turned internally. I was really, really, burning angry at... myself.

Why am I angry at me? I don't know. I wish I did. I wish I could make up with myself and just move on, but I'm holding a grudge in a major way. I'm tired all the time. I'm hurt. I'm all used up. I'm tired in my soul, and I'm sick of it. I'm angry, because I'm the one that put myself here. 

Animal rescue used to be good for me. It make me feel empowered and strong - like I was really making a difference and doing some good, but I'm burned out in a way that I don't think anyone can possibly understand. I can't keep doing this. Some of you already know this, but there's a certain timeframe until I'm out. I will still do home visits for adoptable animals. I will still help to find them homes. And I will still advocate for them, but I can't let my life be consumed by this anymore. I cannot allow myself to be so vulnerable. I cannot continue to be ruled by these animals needs, and the "me me me, want want want" of the people that make me beg to adopt them. People are so horribly abusive to me [and my friends that rescue, and other rescuers beyond that, I'm sure]. It's exhausting. You have absolutely no idea how rude and careless the general public can be with someone that they view as a "service worker". I get it in my job and I get it in my volunteer work, and frankly, something needs to give before I have to be put away somewhere.

So what's the next step? Where do I go from here? I know what I don't want to do, but what is it that I do want to do?

To visit Alice in Wonderland again, the White Queen gives Alice poignant advice before she faces the jabberwocky...

Alice, you cannot live your life to please others.
The choice must be yours, because when you step out to face that creature...
you will step out alone.

 I understand that, at some point, I only have to answer to myself, because when I step out to face the "creature" - whether that be the world at large, God, or just my own conscience - I face it alone. But there has to be a balance between service and selfishness. There has to be a way to not feel like an asshole every time I make a choice that benefits me or my mental health. I'm not sure how to do it. I'm not sure how to get there.

I suppose that that's part of the journey, but I'm getting impatient with my ability to learn and adapt. I have to learn to relax and forgive myself for the choices I've made, and - maybe more than anything - not be afraid to let go of things that cause me pain.

But it's hard...
... and I'm fragile.

Monday, January 23, 2012


Like a Boss.

Today, meowday becomes meee-owlday, with a mix of kitteh-lols and owlols! Big day.

In related news, Happy Birthday this week to my Dad and brother. One of them is 60, and neither do comb overs.

Hope Sue was tender...
All that I do is watch food network, so this seemed appropriate.

not the kind of dragon I imagined.

And Happy Chinese New Year! 
The Year of the Dragon follows the year of the Rabbit (presumably because it's trying to eat the rabbit?), and is a symbol of great fortune and power... so I guess 2012 is going to be good? I'm hoping so, because the year of the rabbit (Keen, Wise, Fragile, Tranquil, Serene, Considerate, Fashionable, Sneaky, Obsessive) was a dumb bitch.

This possibly doesn't matter, because I was born in the year of the Dog. Here's what they say about me:

The Dog is a giving, compassionate personality. He offers kind words, support and advice to friends and family. He is a listener, always available to lend an ear or a shoulder to a friend in need. Often Dogs know more about their friends than their friends know about them or even themselves! Dogs are incredibly attentive. Sometimes though, Dogs should pay more attention to their own needs. In private, many Dog people worry a lot.

Really? Shocking.
I'm going to go worry about something privately now.

Today's lol's are from icanhascheezburger.com

Thursday, January 19, 2012

what's in your mystery basket?

I am not ashamed to admit it, I'm obsessed with Chopped on the Food Network. It's fantastic. When else would one be asked to cook a dish with salsa, starfruit, lima beans, and eel? Or steak, cabbage, peanuts, and rainbow sprinkles! It's simply amazing.

So, it's hosted by Ted Allen...
Remember him from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?
Foodie gay?
Yeah... he's still sassy.
And Ted is constantly sassing the judges about how he doesn't get to taste the food (why doesn't he anyway?), throws out random facts about the ingredients, and basically just bothers the chefs while they're cooking. I think, basically, he's the poor man's Alton Brown.

The judges are always different, but here are a few of our favorites...
Geoffrey Zakarian
Geoffrey Zakarian, also known (in our house) as Ben's nerdy boyfriend, is maybe the smartest, most interesting guy I've ever watched on TV. He's quiet, understated, and awesome. Basically, he's old Alton Brown.

Scott Conant
... yes, I think he might be as arrogant as he looks

Scott Conant, might be an arrogant sonofabitch, but he can also be tender, especially when a contestant (usually a female) is crying. Scott hates raw red onions, I know this because I watch the show. Inevitably, every episode, someone gives him raw red onions, and he makes the rest of their appearance miserable. You'd think that someone would catch on to this eventually, but no... they don't.

Sorry about this picture, Alex...
it was just too good to pass up.

Alex Guarnaschelli... what can I say about you Alexandra? I used to think that she was a major hardass, then I thought that she might just be grumpy, but now, after some time getting to know her, I think that Alex might actually just be uncomfortable on TV. She's getting better though - especially after her time on The Next Iron Chef - she seems more animated and warmer. Maybe she realized that bitchy doesn't read well on TV, or maybe she's just learned how to give criticism... Either way, I love ya Alex! Don't stop rolling your eyes, especially at Scott.

Sometimes at home, Ben and I play Chopped. Not to say that I eliminate him when I cook a better meal with the ingredients, but we play the hypothetical 'what would you do with...' game, and it usually turns out pretty well.

So it is here and now that I petition the Food Network:

PLEEEEASE do a "Chopped: Home cooks" series! Don't give us insane things like dragonfruit, cow eyeballs, or lizard testicles. Give us normal things, and see what we create with them. And then, whoever wins gets their own food network show. Deal? Deal.

Good idea, right?

Monday, January 16, 2012

mlk meowwwwww

Happy MLK Day from the owlery.

Of course, this means that I'm off work today, so it's not technically a meowday! However, in the spirit of being consistent and writing on some type of schedule, a meowday you shall have.

Martin Luther King Jr was actually born on January 15... so Happy Belated to the man.

Comics, anyone?
This week, cat vs human brings the kitty funnies...

This always happens. It's super weird, but it also makes
me feel like my cats like me enough to groom me...
Which makes me feel special.
Don't judge.

My cats *also* act like this when they
have either seen or killed a mouse...

Which reminds me of a great story...

About 2 weeks ago, Ben, just having had a haircut, got hit in the face by falling bird poo from above. This is something that happens to Ben more than the average joe. In fact, I can recall at least three times that he's been pooped on - once, at the beach, with such velocity that I think he was actually bruised afterward. I laughed at his expense, of course, which I knew would come back and bite me later... but I had no idea how much...

So, the rest of the day was pretty normal. The cats were wilder than usual, like they'd found catnip (which I don't keep in the house) and eaten a 10 day supply, but they were funny and weird, which amused us. We settled in to bed, and Conrad was acting a little weird. He crawled up by our heads and, silently vomited the foulest smelling crud all over our pillows. Lovely. I thought that that was my karmic retribution for laughing at Ben earlier in the day, but after stripping the bed and putting sheets and pillows in the wash, I went to look for febreeze and natures miracle in the spare bedroom.

And I stepped on a dead mouse. Barefoot.

I screamed bloody murder.

Ben thought that Sookie (one of my cats) was beheaded and hanging by her tail from the skylight with her blood painting the walls by the way I screamed.

And then I knew, that was my karmic retribution for laughing at Ben being pooped on. But I made him pick up the mouse and take it to the trash.

Sorry Ben.

But that explains why Sookie and the Cheshire Cat were so wound up.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

The triumphant return!

The holiday season, and working retail during  it, really put a damper on my time and energy to write for you all and be creative. But I'm back! Someone hold me accountable for a few posts a week!

To make up for lost time...
Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown

Happy New Year from NYC!
Here's to making 2012 really awesome and kicking ass in major ways.

Speaking of kicking ass, I need to shout out (which is a term I never use...) some mad props (ditto) to G for documenting her feelings and fears about being a 30 year old woman with breast cancer. She's going through her double mastectomy today, and my heart just aches for her. 

Even if you don't know her, have a look at her blog, my left tit, to sneak a peek into the purest and most open heart I have the pleasure of knowing.

The last glimpse of G's girls...
They're pretty, but we would rather have YOU.

In light of G's struggle, everything else seems mundane. My job gets progressively more awful as time passes, but I feel like there has to be an end to this in sight. There is something very exciting on the way for Ben and I, but I don't want to jinx it!

The critters in our care are slowly moving on to their new homes and fosters. We're not out of the woods with cats yet, but the dogs are on their way.

Please, someone make me keep writing!

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