Unfancy

2015-06-192015-06-19 Miss Poison Animals, Cats, Dogs, Emotions, Father's Day, Life, Musings, Writing Cats, Dogs, Life, Musings, Writing

There is no nice way to say “I feel like shit.” I thought about it and decided I wasn’t going to attempt to gloss it over. That’s like buying heavily scented cat litter with the idea in mind that roses will make it all better. Unfortunately, no matter what you do, shit is still shit. Be it a feeling or an odor. (Okay, that was graphic. I apologize.)

I realized a few hours ago that with Father’s Day approaching this Sunday, it’s probably not doing a whole hell of a lot for my mood. My father passed away almost eight years ago after battling various forms of cancer for fifteen years. I always knew he’d die young, I simply never knew that it would have such an impact on me.

Finding a dead bird in my yard the other day didn’t do much to curb this gnawing feeling. I contacted the local authorities and by the time they got back to me, the bird was gone. Was it stunned? I don’t think so. It’s not often I find a bird face down anywhere, leave alone my back yard. It made me really sad. It wasn’t breathing, so I’m certain it wasn’t a magical vampire bird that was simply taking a nap.

For the past couple of years I’ve had a regular cat visitor (a big, black cat that I tried to take in myself when he was just a kitten roaming my yard) and while he appears to be well cared for, he’s a menace when it comes to other animals. I’ve yelled at this cat a few times to stop chasing cats and kittens all over the neighborhood, but as I said, he’s a menace. When he’s not peeing on my trees or the fence, he’s usually chasing the few stray or outdoor cats he is able to find on his daily jaunts.

The bird thing bothers me for a number of reasons. One, I have neighbors that shoot bunnies in their yard because they think it’s an acceptable way of “ridding themselves of pests”. They’re looking for food, they don’t know you’re an animal-hating asshole. Two, my brother neglected to tell me that he found a dead squirrel about a week ago when he was spraying for weeds. When I inquired as to why he didn’t tell me as soon as he found it, he said “I didn’t think you needed to know.” I didn’t know I needed coddling. Had I known it was there, I would have called animal control to make sure it was safe to remove it. If I wouldn’t leave a person there, I certainly wouldn’t leave an animal out like that either!

When I did call animal control yesterday to ask if the cat could be trapped, neutered, and released the woman I spoke to actually told me this: Are you ready cat lovers/owners? “All cats are feral.” Excuse me, you crazy bitch?! “It’s the circle of life and all that. Dogs are the only domestic animals in this world.” No, they’re NOT. Besides, I didn’t say I had a tiger in my back yard, you nut job!

While I can easily say that nine times out of ten, it’s the owner and not the dog, I don’t meet a lot of civilized, well-socialized dogs. Some, but not every single one. Family dogs tend to be better and those that receive a boatload of love and attention aren’t OCD about jumping on me, biting, or being aggressive. If a dog can listen to basic training commands, it’s probably not going to come flying down the street in an attempt to jump me. A lot of rescue dogs are traumatized in some way from previous life experience and are in fight or flight mode upon meeting new people, especially if their owners haven’t sought out training or done the training themselves. Dogs require a lot of work, but they’re not the only domesticated animal on this planet.

I’ve had cats my entire life, none of them have ever been feral. For this chick to actually state that as if it’s fact is ignorant as hell. Yes, cats are predators. That’s an actual fact, but I see my almost two year old cat and how completely uninterested she is in “the great outdoors”. You can open a door and she’s not running out into the heat or cold. She sits at the glass doors to the patio and watches the birds, bunnies, squirrels, etc., but she’s more bothered by flying insects than anything else. You should see how she reacts to a bee. Yeah, real feral.

Kitten is still a baby, so everything requires a vocalization and a physical reaction to the presence of other animals. If she comes across something, she will swat at it, she’ll cover it with her paws, but she’s not “going in for the kill”. She’ll certainly let me know something does not belong here and that I need to come and assist her, but she’s not vicious about it. Using the world “feral” to describe every single cat is irresponsible. It’s the kind of idiotic comment one can expect from the inhumane society, who are far more interested in killing for their paychecks then they are in rescuing and adopting an animal out to a good home.

I called a no-kill shelter and explained the situation to them. They don’t have enough manpower to come out and get this cat, so they referred me to another organization that can trap him, get him fully vetted and screened for any potential health issues, and then decide if he can be properly socialized and adopted out to someone. He doesn’t have a collar or a tag, but he’s a purebred cat. I’ve seen him since he was just a few months old, rolling around in my back yard and meowing for attention, but utterly fearless in how he’d watch me for hours. He doesn’t deserve to be put to sleep for being outside utilizing his predatory instincts, but if he’s without a microchip to let the rescue know who he belongs to, then he deserves a good home. If he’s going to be an outdoor cat, it’s safer for him to live with someone who is okay with that and will watch out for him.

It’s highly possible he didn’t kill either animal. However, it’s the most likely conclusion based on previous behavior. I’d rather find out who he belongs to or get him into a situation where he can be in a good home, as opposed to the alternatives. I’d hate for him to get hurt for any reason and I’d hate for anyone with a pulse to harm him, so all I can do is hope that the no-kill rescue gets back to me and that we can set up a trap. It’s way too hot for animals to be outside anyway, and with the expectation of a brutally hot summer, I’d feel better knowing that he’s safe indoors somewhere.

End of bizarre “crazy cat lady” rant.

Have a wonderful start to the weekend everyone!

XO…L

They Say We Need…

2015-06-11 Miss Poison Cats, Kittens, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Cat and Kitten, Fibromyalgia Pain, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Reading, Sleep, The Sell by Fredrik Eklund, Work, Writing

11391363_1107337549283618_8296339223313819881_n — Let’s be clear, I’ve never looked like this in the morning.

Two nights in a row, I’ve gone to bed early with some form of pain. Tuesday night it was a migraine that I was praying away. The idea of waking up with it and having it stay with me was not one I was willing to romance. Last night, I still had a headache, but I was also suffering from a Fibro flare from the neck down and I’d been badly affected by the heat and humidity. When I got home last night and changed my clothes, that was when my phone alerted me to an air quality advisory. You’ve got to love apps on a delay.

Yet now, here I sit, unable to go back to sleep. I’ve been up long enough to check the score of the game (Yay Blackhawks!) and eliminate 30 minutes from my DVR. I’d woken up with cat and kitten vying for prime Mommy real estate. I didn’t even know they were both crammed up against me until I returned to my bed five minutes later and was able to see them in their full-sized, stretched out glory. I returned a while ago to see they’d taken over all of the good spots, after first accompanying me down the steps, probably to see if an extra or early meal might be in the cards. I asked both of them if storms were coming, neither of them has budged. The forecast says there is only a 30% chance of rain and thunderstorms. These two lumps say otherwise.

I could be working on one of my jobs right now, but I’m struggling with the pain from the flare up. My muscles are screaming and sitting is difficult, not to mention painful. But I do want to get one of these jobs done today, if possible. It feels good to have a client return and be happy to have me on a project. 🙂

Hopefully once my muscles loosen up, I will be able to do more than just my job today. I’d like to run out for a bit, once it cools down. I am also reading The Sell by Fredrik Eklund. All in all, lots to do. If only there were an additional ten hours in the day to accomplish it all. Realistically, the amount of caffeine needed to achieve that would be insane, so 24 hours is a good time-frame, after all.

I hope everyone has a good day and is looking forward to a relaxing weekend. Onto the daily adventure…

Weird Worthless Weekends Lost To Pain

2015-06-082015-06-08 Miss Poison Cats, Chronic Pain, Clients, Editing, Fibromyalgia, Kittens, Life, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing Chronic Pain, Clients, Editing, Fibro Flares, Fibromyalgia Pain, Laundry, Life, Lost Weekends, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Weekends, Work, Writing

Friday morning I stated that I’d rest this weekend and get things done inside my home, as much as humanly possible. I mentally calculated exactly how much laundry needed to be done, and then factored a few others things into the mix. What I did not factor in was a terrible Fibro flare and bouts of sleeplessness that drove me up a wall. Why couldn’t that have happened last week? Because I was working like a dog in between migraines and the day and a half I spent unable to move, so apparently my body waited and the second I had time to breathe, I got slammed. I’m livid that it is now Monday and that my “weekend” was so bizarre in it’s lack of time.

I know I am being unfair to myself. I’m not a machine and I do have to factor pain into my daily life. There was a lot I wanted to get done from Friday until now. As I angrily folded laundry a little while ago, the only load I did this weekend that isn’t even my stuff, I realized just what a wasted weekend this was.

Who’s looking forward to another hot, miserable work-filled week? Not I. Plus, I’ve got about four loads of laundry that need to get done. In all fairness, one could be up right now, but I will not move a happily sleeping kitten off of my bed in order to yank the linens so she can think it’s some kind of evil game and destroy another set of sheets. I cannot get a soul to hold her so I can trim her nails. Apparently everyone is afraid of the world’s sweetest, sassiest kitten. I don’t want to traumatize her by pinning her down with my body to get two nails, if I’m lucky, before she hisses, cries, or attempts to bite me. Believe me, I understand her frustration and I don’t take her reactions to heart, though the crying kills me. She’s not a mean biter and she’s not mean, period, she simply doesn’t understand why her nails need to be cut. As sweet and loving as she is, a lot of basic kindness is scary to her. I have to keep trying as patiently as I can so that she doesn’t have these fears later on in life. This is residual shelter trauma; it has nothing to do with her life with me. Knowing that, I can utilize far more patience than if it were a person. Animals and babies are one of my speeds. People need to handle their own shit.

I am looking forward to work this week in a “I really like this particular client” sort of way. I spent about an hour on the phone with a client one afternoon to be certain of what he needed from me. We had a lovely conversation and he was incredibly pleased with the work I turned in. During our conversation he said he wanted to keep my information close at hand in order to hire me again for other editing/writing jobs. That is the only time I will write for someone else, when they know what they want, but can’t quite put the words together cohesively. Most times, that’s less than 500 words and it takes no time at all, but some people cannot put their internalized thoughts onto paper, so an idea is scattered and hiring someone to polish the idea is a good way to find the right person for the job you’re looking to hire for. Hiring field specific people is a really great concept.

My point, however, is that he contacted me yesterday for another job. I wasn’t 1000% sure I’d hear from him again, but I’m glad that I did. It’s nice dealing with people who get it and have respect for your time, knowledge, and the work you do. Most people just made rude demands. I had someone point out a tiny error I made, which happens. I’m not perfect, it was late, and all she had to do was delete one word. I asked if she wanted me to redo the entire file, but instead she took up over an hour of my time asking me to proof the work that SHE had just re-edited. (Did your jaw just hit the floor? I was astounded by the stupidity because it resulted in a two hour phone conversation the following afternoon to make sure I’d get paid for the time.) Did I mention that this was a corporate job and her English is swimming somewhere between broken and non-existent? I suspect she was using Google translate because revising her thoughts was like playing with a puzzle, and the message “Is it done yet?” grated on my nerves because I informed her precisely how long it would take and that I’d get it back to her by late Thursday evening EDT. It is all too easy not to want to do specific jobs after a while based on the treatment of clients that do not understand that not everything can be done in 60 seconds. It’s incredibly unrealistic to expect that, but it is what it is and I have the right to pick and choose the jobs I take, for that reason alone. I am excited to see what this new opportunity brings. I wish every opportunity was a prosperous one. Alas, many are not, so I do my job and move on. That’s all I can do, my best.

And now, despite all this back pain, I am off to tackle at least two loads of laundry since kitten has moved along. I suspect she will be back soon to thoroughly inspect all the clean linens I’ve put down since stripping my bed and quickly dashing downstairs to the laundry room (Cat has already given me a mixture of approval, disdain, and attitude.). Now if I could just find the perfect pillow…

The truth is, the evil never truly rest. 😛

Soothing The Beast

2015-05-28 Miss Poison Cats, Fibromyalgia, Fridays, Kittens, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Editing, Honesty, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Rain, Word, Writing

Thank you to those that inquired about my health on Tuesday. I genuinely appreciate that. I was 100% better yesterday. Apart from a little achiness, it was surreal to physically feel nothing. These are very rare days indeed, but all I felt able to handle on an emotional level was some paperwork and phone calls, and submitting a proposal for another developmental editing job, something short to keep my brain active. There was something about an impending thunderstorm that was calming to me in some way.

The storm itself was lackluster, to say the least. A few rumbles of non-threatening thunder and a small amount of rain. Pssh! They call that a storm worthy of alarms going off on my phone?! I reached a point where I muted everything on the phone and spent hours listening to it buzz occasionally. I don’t know about all of you, but when the rain is overhead, it’s a safe bet I already know it’s there and I don’t require an alert that can seemingly pierce its way three houses down. Technology.

Today is a brand new day with a whole other set of issues. The pain came roaring back. I thought I was sleeping, but kitten was here, multiple times, to inform me that my presence was requested in the kitchen. She learned how to open the kitchen cabinets about two weeks ago, but apparently in her learning efforts, cans was not on the list. I fed her and walked over to cat, because she’s been acting strangely and I will not open a can of food for her until she’s standing in front of me to truly let me know she wants it. She walks away a lot and it has become wasteful, and tiresome. No, the little espresso bean was content to sit in front of the patio door and watch the birds and bunnies, she wasn’t interested in food or attention. She’ll come looking for me when she needs one or the other. This is the problem with having a picky animal that only wants to eat when she decides it’s time. Precisely who is in charge around here??

I have scoured the forecast and decided that tomorrow afternoon is better to run errands, it’s going to be too hot to think today. Granted, errands on a Friday aren’t the best idea in the world, that’s when almost everyone else has the same plan, but it’s the only idea I’ve got. Once the temperature drops tomorrow, it won’t be 90 degrees, it’ll be in the low 70’s and that’s something I can handle for a few hours.

The fact that Monday takes us into June is quite disturbing to me. This year is going by a lot quicker than expected… I supposed they always do, to some extent, but it’s still weird. I’m sure I’ll feel that way a year from now too.

Okay. I am off in search of breakfast and then I am committing myself to an hour or so with the manuscript from hell. I want it DONE, GONE, DELIVERED. If I look at it any longer, I am certain insanity will set in. Wish me good luck with the final 200 pages (I swear, it keeps growing!). The fact that 30 pages of notes, if not more, have been added, should tell you exactly what I’m working with here. Note to self: Raise your prices. Enough with this fairness bullshit!

Talk to you all soon. 🙂

If You Have A Sledgehammer

2015-05-262015-05-26 Miss Poison Cats, Fibromyalgia, Kittens, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Cat, Fibromyalgia Pain, Homeopathic Medicine, Kitten, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

I woke up this morning in sheer agony. Have you ever experienced pain where you are almost certain there are knives in your back? Picture it for a second. Yeah, it’s not pretty and the concept that one can feel such pain without actually having gaping wounds is astounding to me. No one should have to experience this kind of pain, though I do have a short list of people who’d make the cut if God ever wanted to grant me such power. 😉

Sadly, the pain in my back/spine almost pales in comparison to the gut-wrenching stomach pain I am currently experiencing. I have no idea what’s causing it, which is always scary. The reason I’m not rushing to the emergency room right this very second is simple: I am 99% certain it will pass. I’m on a homeopathic remedy for some of the pain I am experiencing (I prefer things that work as opposed to things that mask the suffering.) and even though most people do not experience any stomach related symptoms from taking it, a few people have reported stomach pain or other stomach related issues as a side effect, so there is always the off-chance that it can happen. In turn, I need to wait it out.

Of course, it’s never that simple.

As I have been doing the “wait it out” period, I smacked my head into the edge of my door trying to snag a toy for kitten. I idiotically threw it over the door during our game of fetch and cat was blocking her path to predatory enjoyment. I wanted to retrieve it without disturbing cat, who was snoozing, but the second I smacked my head they both went flying down the stairs. No concern for me at all, they’re all about self-preservation in the suburbs. LOL. I’m pretty sure they’ll check on me later. You know, when food is involved.

Despite the three-day weekend, today still feels eerily like a Monday to me in its groggy irritability. There’s no amount of caffeine that can conquer that. These days, even with partially decent sleep and a slightly higher than normal caffeine ratio in my bloodstream, I am still ready to fall on the floor every night by 10:00 PM, if not earlier. Sometimes I manage to squeeze an extra hour or so out of myself, but I honestly cannot keep my eyes open once I reach that sleepy state where I’m actually slurring my words (No, alcohol is not involved.). Given any opportunity to close my eyes for 30 minutes, it is almost certain that I will fall asleep wherever I happen to be. The next time I am stuck on-line for 40 minutes at Walmart, I am going to ask for a pillow.

I hope that everyone had a wonderful weekend, wherever you may be, and that none of my readers are dealing with the aftermath of tornadoes or flooding.

I’m off to sit in the dark and be nauseous. Wish me luck.

It Doesn’t Get Easier

2015-05-052015-05-05 Miss Poison Cats, Children, Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Kittens, Life, Musings, Pain, Pets, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Suffering, Writing

Fibromyalgia Pain. Chronic Pain. Migraines. They are just a few of the evils that millions suffer from. Some suffer loudly, but many more suffer in dark rooms, alone, in silence. You’re screaming on the inside, but you don’t make a sound.

There is something about the temperature shifting drastically that changes my “Pain Game” to new levels of insanity. I’ve had a migraine on and off for three days, and after last week, I’d hoped it was just a passing tornado, so to speak. This morning I reached that “insane from pain” stage that is quite scary. You hear yourself saying crazy things, but you truly cannot stop your mouth from moving. You’ve been strong for too long and now you’re venting.

I’m usually up pretty early and by early, I mean still dark. Suffering from migraines last week into this week has meant that I’m finding justified reasons to A) Go back to sleep or B) Take naps. This morning I woke up at 7:24. I’d been up an hour before and truly saw no reason to make a bigger effort, so back to bed I went. Unfortunately, when you have animals and/or young children, you don’t get “the morning off”. I suspect if I bled out of my eyeballs, maybe. The girls were being particularly aggressive this morning, so I fed them at exactly 7:25 and then stomped back up the stairs like an insane person. Once they’re fed, they usually leave me alone. In true form, they had no interest in bothering me whatsoever once they’d been fed. But once I officially woke up, I had a little stalker doing all sorts of wrong to draw my attention. I’ve reached that pain point where saying “No.” or “Get down from there!” isn’t even worth it. If I spritz them with water, they stop doing it. However, they’re fearless and like to lick the water off right in front of me, as if to say “Really Mommy, that’s all you’ve got?” I’m not in the mood to be challenged by anything with four legs and fur, and I don’t negotiate with terrorists that look like children. 😛

Migraines that affect your neck, shoulder(s), face, and spine are fucking scary. There is always someone telling me a wild story about how “so and so had a migraine, and thus thought nothing of it, until they ended up in emergency surgery.” Yeah, that’s what I need to hear. That is totally going to make me feel better, thanks for sharing! I have no idea why so many people use the “this one has it worse” crap on you, as if that is somehow going to magically stop your suffering (and not just with a migraine, but with ALL things in life). FYI: It doesn’t curb your suffering at all, but it does piss you off, which isn’t good because that raises your blood pressure and damn near guarantees that this migraine isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

My biggest problem with this particular migraine is that I also hurt from my spine down to my calves. If it’s not severe pain, it’s a horrific ache or serious soreness. There is a 50% chance of rain and honestly, I’d like to see it rain a bit because that would explain the sudden increase in pain from my daily 8-9 to DEFCON 1. Historically we have never reached such a level of “readiness”, but I’m betting that a vast majority of pain patients HAVE reached that threshold. It is pain that is so bad, you’d rather feel ANYTHING ELSE but that pain. It applies to more than just the physical.

Doctors have often told me “It gets better as you get older.” That’s what they told my mother when I had horrible growing pains and constantly felt like my muscles and bones were going to pop off. Now, doctors ask whether or not you can remember if you had bad growing pains as a child, because that often signifies whether or not you might suffer from a form of chronic pain later on in life. They ask about your long-dead relatives medical histories, as if you know all about your “dead before I was born” Grandparents and Great-Grandparents. Unfortunately, I remember those growing pains the same way I will remember my current pain a month from now, with 100% muscle memory.

I fully intended to get some serious editing done today. I have a client crawling up my butt (I have more to say on this subject, but it’s unprofessional, so I’m going to shut my mouth) asking for a timeline for delivery. We’ve never discussed one before, but as I go through pages and pages of work that requires severe corrections with every sentence, I had to be honest (I chose professional honesty as opposed to niceness because I don’t have niceness in me at the moment.) and tell exactly her how much work is involved. The cleaner the manuscript, the less work there is for me, but as a developmental editor, I fact check and do way more than I’m being paid for, and yet from a writer’s perspective, I cannot tell if it’s just excitement at the prospect of having never been edited before, or anxiety that a professional is dissecting your work. I don’t know, I suspect it could be a lot of both, but I’m also in too much pain and under too much stress to sit and psycho-analyze it. I also hesitate to ask because I’m about .1 seconds from losing it on just about anyone. I’ve never failed a client before; it’ll get done, but work stops when I’m in agony and being nagged.

Right now, today is turning into another “Must Take Care Of Me” day. I truly don’t feel there are enough days like this because I often turn my attention to helping someone with a problem, or doing something else to shift my internal focus off the pain. Focusing solely on my own needs is slightly unnatural to me, but for now, it MUST be a priority.

Here’s hoping that none of my readers are hurting like this today. 😦 This is the kind of pain only Hitler deserves!

Stand Up For Your Cats

Link 2015-04-15 Miss Poison Articles, Cats Articles, Cats, Men, Women

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/29/opinion/sunday/julia-baird-stand-up-for-your-cats.html?smprod=nytcore-ipad&smid=nytcore-ipad-share&_r=0

I am the first person to admit that I am not married and I currently have a cat who will turn two later this year and a nine month old kitten. Cats are far more independent animals than dogs, but they’re also my spirit animal to some extent. I’m definitely NOT stereotypical.

It’s Friday, Let’s Celebrate!

2015-03-272015-03-27 Miss Poison Being Real, Cats, Facebook, Fibromyalgia, Kittens, Musings, Pain, Petty Garbage, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Social Media, Support, Thoughts, Toxic People, Work, Writer, Writers, Writing Being Real, Cats, Chronic Pain, Facebook, Honesty, Kittens, Love, Musings, Social Media, Toxic People, Work, Writer, Writers, Writing

We know where you live Mommy, and it is not beneath us to display our utter cuteness for you to gain food, treats, or head scratches.

I have no idea why Friday, Saturday, and Sunday have become my favorite days of the week, but lately, I just can’t handle week days. Does anyone else feel like this?

I’ve had a rough week. I’ve been in a lot of pain and have required way more sleep than any single person my age should need (Still young, still fabulous. 😛 ). I work and then I look at the time, realizing that I’ve done a lot in short bursts of time, but that now that I’ve gotten work done, it’s time to close my eyes “for a little while”. The next thing I know, the day is over. I wake up from that brief little “nap”, check the time, and my cat and kitten are wrapped around each other. Apparently some kind of love fest goes on when I’m down for the count. I almost always have to be in bed and half asleep or completely out of it before they go into “love mode”.

Passive, sweet cat. Troublesome, but incredibly loving kitten. (You can see their photos on my About page.) They’re good for each other and they’re good for me, because without them, I wouldn’t get out of bed at all. There are many mornings when they’re both pacing around me, marking my face with theirs (kitten does this), to encourage me to go downstairs and give them breakfast. If that doesn’t work, they start bringing toys into the bed. I have no idea where either of them are, but I know that if the food is not delivered in a timely fashion, they will try to curry my favor with gifts. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve both placed gifts in my bathtub as a reminder, as if I’ve ever forgotten to feed them.

I’m VERY lucky, they’re relatively well-behaved and sweet. They’ve got attitude, but mostly, they know that they are loved and safe. When I’m in a terrible amount of pain, one or both of them will get into bed as soon as I’m comfortable and either lay by my feet or by my head, and they do not move until they see me calm down and fall asleep, and even then, I still wake up with them close by. There is a sweetness to that which makes me emotional at times. My cat is a lot less openly loving than my kitten, but I have a bond with both of them and I see how they call for me and come to visit me when I’m working. Basically, I get treated like one of them. Perhaps this is why they often place toys under my butt and then try to bite me awake. Sassy’s been doing this since she was a baby, and at 19 months, it wasn’t that long ago that she was the ruler of the roost and tiny, aggressively shoving me awake and demanding food constantly. Now that there are two little beasts, I have them on a schedule. She’s no longer interested in most games (my little one wants to play, but also self-entertains), but is happy to bite my feet or grab my ankle for a nip if she’s feel froggy.

Now that Miss Sass has a constant playmate, she’s no longer ripping me to shreds and biting me. Her breed isn’t known for a lot of verbal communication, so she spent ten months aggressively hurting me several times a day until I found her the perfect little companion. It was NOT love at first sight. It took about a week or so, and they slowly became obsessed with each other. Mini is also incredibly obsessed with me, but she’s still a baby.

☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤¸.•*¨*•☆☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤¸.•*¨*•☆☆•*¨*•.¸¸❤❤

What else is going on? Oh, yes! Because I’m a total hypocrite (And honest enough to admit it.), I am back on Facebook. My original account is still up in the air. Facebook and I have exchanged countless e-mails, and nothing has been worked out, so I waited a while and established a new account. I intentionally linked it to my cell phone which somehow authenticates that I am indeed a “real person” and not the countless things I was accused of in all of their e-mails back in January. If you want to pal around with me, let me know and I will send you my new hypocritical info.

Speaking of which, Facebook has changed quite a bit since I was gone. I am pretty sure someone peed in everyone’s coffee this morning because for every 30 people who liked something I said, I had one person go ballistic. To avoid future problems, I’m keeping a low profile. However, when subjects are open for discussion and you don’t know a person, I think it’s crucial not to call them “OCD” or “rude”, especially since you’re clearly not understanding the context. I was called both this morning by two absolute idiots. Mind you, gutless wonders like to hide behind their computers and spew horse shit.

My first thought was “Go fuck yourself!”, but I decided not to lower myself to their levels. Second, throwing obsessive compulsive disorder around as some sort of joke or insult is incredibly rude, and when one is not a healthcare professional, one has no right to say that to someone they do not know and have never met. That actually IS rude. Disagreeing with someone isn’t rude, we’re all entitled to do so.

I’m a supportive writer. I’m going to be honest, polite, and concise because that’s how I am. I’ve NEVER been rude on Facebook or any form of social media that I am aware of. If anyone has ever read my work and deemed me rude, then that was YOUR perception and not the facts. I’m not Ms. Sweetness & Light, I do not throw rainbows at you, nor do I shoot sugared unicorns when one deserves venom.

There is a fine line between sharing thoughts and being a bitch. I don’t bring out the bitch side unless it is warranted and I don’t do it on Facebook because I have a professional reputation to uphold. If I wouldn’t say something to your face, then I certainly wouldn’t say it behind your back or in a public forum. That’s not how I operate.

People like to throw my astrological sign into play in their “defense” quite a bit, but the truth is, I’m a pretty controlled Scorpio female. I might not always have been, but I learned a long time ago to get the negative aspects under control or they would control me. Lesson learned, and once broken of those habits, I did not return to them.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That’s a load of shit. Words can hurt, they do hurt, and people throw them out there like it’s no big deal. I’m known for my “say anything” policy, but there ARE things I absolutely won’t say because I have morals, dignity, manners, self-respect, and boundaries. Some things are so below the belt that you simply don’t go there. You can think them, but then you must let them go because that kind of negativity breeds more negativity, and it’s unhealthy.

More and more, people are offended by anything and everything, but they care little for who THEY might offend. They have no manners or coping mechanisms for difference of opinion or basic relationship skills. Junior high school drama wasn’t cute in junior high school, and I won’t tolerate it as an adult. By all means, disagree with me. That’s fine. If you don’t know the context in which I mean something, don’t assume, ask. Judge not lest ye be judged.

Overall, I’m glad to have the account for my cousins and the few real friends I have, and for specific things that I’ve discussed here many times, but outside of that, I realize that I don’t miss it and that it’s a terrible waste of time. Who knew I’d grow to love Twitter?! By the way, thank you Lillian for suggesting it, and for clearly being a friend to me when others are full of crap (Link to her blog is attached to her name.). You go away for less than two months and you actually find out who your REAL friends & family are, both on and off social media. How utterly pathetic. True colors are shining bright and a lot of people are chicken-shit yellow. C’est la vie.

Also, there is a brand new blog, started by one of my best friends, that I am going to be interviewed for. I will make sure the link goes up ASAP.

And on that note, I hope you all have a lovely weekend. If you’re an NCAA fan, I hope you’re cheering for my team tonight in the Sweet 16. 🙂 GO DUKE!

Felines Of New York

Link 2015-03-24 Miss Poison Cats, Kittens, Pieces Of Me Cats, Honesty, Humor, Kittens, New York

http://felinesofnewyork.com/

This should lighten the mood for many of you. I was once asked why I went to North Shore Animal League to adopt two kittens when I could have gone someplace local. My response was “I’m from New York. I want cats with attitude.” 😉 Of course, as I speak, there’s more attitude in my house than necessary. People talk about certain types of cats having more personality or attitude than others, and they’re right. However, I would not trade that in for anything.

Earl Grey Snow Day

2015-03-05 Miss Poison Cats, Honesty, Humor, Kittens, March, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Snow Cats, Earl Grey Tea, Full Moon, Humor, Kittens, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Purim, Snow, Vile Neighbors, Writing

Hello everyone! I was terribly sick yesterday, so I apologize for not posting. Happy Purim & Happy Full Crow Moon. Believe me when I say, I won’t be able to see the moon tonight. The snow blind is murderous and the sky is so white, it’s creepy.

I’m recovering from a series of migraines that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Anyone who is lucky enough to have their migraines get better as they get older is truly blessed. I have doubts mine will cease completely without the use of a sledgehammer. Thankfully, three rounds of medication and my blood pressure lowering seems to have helped considerably. And yet, I’m too smart to fully trust that because they’re evil. Migraine sufferers know what I’m talking about.

Today is one of those snow days where the roads are so bad, all you can really do is shovel, get out the snowblower, and drink hot beverages while reading, working, or watching TV/listening to music. Earlier I discovered that my next door neighbor (I’ve mentioned them before. Everyone agreed that she’s an absolute psycho. Today, I strongly suspect her husband is off his rocker as well.) took it upon himself to “borrow” my snowblower. I wasn’t asked, so imagine the expression on my face when I saw him outside with a snowblower he doesn’t even know how to use. That thing cost me a LOT of money several years ago, so if he breaks it, I expect an immediate delivery of the purchase price because I truly don’t think what he did was cool. Who does that?! If you ask me, we’re fine, but if you help yourself, I take issue with it. I’m much more apt to help a person than they are, but I also don’t use someone else’s property or tools without asking. If it wasn’t snowing heavily, I might have gone outside and said something, but right now the point is moot. Suffice it to say, I am annoyed. When did manners go out of style?!

What did I learn about myself this morning? That I’m raising a disrespectful, unappreciative, rude cat. Sassy McSasserson (No, that’s not her real name.) bunny kicked me in the head when I gave her hugs and kisses to comfort her because snow is scary to her and she doesn’t like to see it. She spent a few hours trying to attack it as it fell, before getting bored. When I went to brush her later on (because she’d shedding almost as much hair as I do on a daily basis, perhaps more), she bit me, claws came out, and there was blood. I was NOT pleased. Now she’s under my bed attacking her sister, simply for existing. I am happy to say that Mini (Also, not her real name.) has emerged unscathed. As the smaller, younger of the two, she is normally the aggressor, but today she is far more interested in learning how to truly meow and steal all of my pens in systematic fashion, when not standing up at her full height to “attack” the birds that are trying to build their nests for Spring. How she expects to do that through glass, I do not know, but hey, you’ve got to let them figure this shit out on their own. Of course, if you’re me, you do so while responding to all said chirps and meows, so that they know you speak their language. It’s a great way to ensure that you don’t get returned to the shelter as the “inappropriate human”. I’ve caught Sassy over the past year or so staring at me and I suspect that Ms. Goldeneyes has been contemplating trading me in for a newer, fancier model. Feed, love, groom, keep them safe, make sure they’re healthy. If she thinks she can do better, I have news for her; they just don’t make them like me any more. Not only did they break the mold, but they beat the hell out of the mold maker too. (Yes, this used to make my mother laugh.) Shout out to Shay for that hilarious birthday card of old. This is the first time in a long time that it made me smile.

What else do I have to say? I’m not sure. It’s really just random silliness. Well, the last bit was, the rest was absolute seriousness.

Perhaps I should have another cup of tea. It’s decaf Earl Grey, but it’s my newest tea addiction.