I'm so glad I'm not...

... dating.

My buddy, P, has had her share of horrific dating experiences. Currently, she's on a conversational dating site, and boy oh boy does she get approached by some real winners!

So here is some comic relief to your boring workday, or a cautionary tale to online dating.
P's Dating Disasters is open for business...

Very odd.

She wants me to reiterate that this happens to her in real life, not just in the magical mystery world of the internet.

This one is my absolute favorite:

When, without prior plans, P was asked
"what are we doing Friday night?"
P responded, "I'm sorry, did we make plans?"
The rest, as they say, is history.

Wall of Shame...

uh... thanks?

absolutely not. never. never never never.
especially since you're from New Jersey.

And for my final trick of the evening...

not too sure of yourself are you dude...?
no wonder you deleted your profile...?

Ahh. This is the life.
Until next time, babes... we're out.

Deuces.

the true story of my [pathetic] life

This is, in fact, the true story of my life.

eldercats.

Yesterday I met a handsome 21 year old eldercat named Kincaide.  He was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. His eyes were cloudy, his fur segmented, his back end starting to hollow out, his shoulders hunched - but he was so special and I doubt his face will leave my mind for a long time. He came running (very slowly, on teetering legs) to me and pushed his face into my hands. I scratched and rubbed his face, and got the best reward - the loudest, longest purr I've ever heard from a cat. So thankful, so loving, and so warm.

I wish I had taken a picture.

But, he looks a lot like facebook "figure" Juliet - of The Grannies - a 21 year old cat saved from Animal Care and Control here in Manhattan, with her sister Kate...

Grannies Juliet and Kate, before Kate's passing last year.

Juliet looks just like Kincaide here. Though his eyes are cloudier.
Simply beautiful.

Sadly, sparkly-eyed Katie left us in 2011, but Juliet lives on in a VERY loving home, spreading the message that senior animals really do make the best friends.

Kincaide's mom, C, told me that he'd just gotten out of the hospital for his diabetes. She gives him insulin injections twice everyday, and gives him sub-q fluid daily as well. His quality of life is really fantastic, and she doesn't regret a moment or a dollar, because he's been with her through everything. Divorce, remarriage, divorce, raising her daughter, move after move after move. He's truly the longest relationship she's ever had, after finding him in a parking lot of a diner when her daughter was 5, and he's rewarded her with 21 years of unconditional love and affection. What more can you ask for? To me, nothing.

I can only hope that my beautiful cats, Sookie and The Cheshire Cat, choose to stick with me as long as Kincaide and Juliet.

The Cheshire Cat, having just appeared in a cloud of smoke.

Sookie, trying to abuse the camera.

They're still young - Sook is 2ish and Cess is 5-6 - but I can't help but think about what they'll be like when they're little old ladies, staring at teenaged kids and yelling for their food... which they do already. There's nothing I wouldn't do for them - vet visits, injections, daily fluids, pills, and daily scratches as a thank you. Because I love them.

What do you think your cat(s) will be like in 10 or 15 years? What about your dog(s)?

Mine will remain awesome. ;)

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.

meeeee-owlday

Like a Boss.

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

Awwwwwwww.

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