I'm quietly judging you.

I want to be a better person in the New Year. I want to not feel numb.

If you sweep things under the rug, pretend they don't exist, you are going to eventually trip on a giant ass rug right in front of your face. And you probably walk on this rug everyday, so you know, you know what is under it. But you just happily pretend nothing is under it. You put it there, you know it is there.

But maybe It isn't that I feel numb, I think it is more a feeling of helplessness.

Who raises who? Who is the adult? Who is the one who should care more? And how much is too much to care? How many times can you extend your hand when there is no one to extend their hand on the other hand because they are too busy wiping their own tears on the other end? We all get sad, we all have tears. But you know what? Sometimes you gotta suck it up. Reach your hand out to those extending theirs and you can do it with tears in your eyes and a scream escaping your lips!!! But give too. And hang on. And don't let go. And pay attention. Some of the hands outstretching themselves to you are eventually going to give up, stop reaching out, and who knows if they will be there when you decide to finally reach out your own hands. And they may be important. You know what? I rephrase. I guarantee they are important. But sometimes you can only give so much before you get so exhausted you don't what the point is. 

We sure are cute for two ugly people

When I first got Chloe, one of my two cats, I hated her. I rejected her. She wasn't warm or nice or loving like my other cat Weasley. Her name wasn't even Chloe, her name was Arnold. She was tiny. Sister to Weasley, and knowing the other 2 sisters from the litter, she was the runt. She was also just not a spoiled cat like Weasley. Her coat wasn't soft and groomed like his, her little tummy was so little it was non-existent, while Weasley's was always plump and welcoming. He was well taken care of by me. She didn't seem to be. So I formed an opinion and stuck to it. I didn't care. Her fur was coarse and harsh. I didn't like her for this. She had a mean demeanor. She hissed at me. She scratched me. She clawed me in the face, I actually had a scab form right under my nose and on my lip where she dug in so deep it made me bleed.

I took her in and let her stay, but for 3 days straight I was devising a back up plan to get her out. I asked co-workers if they wanted a cat, I asked if they knew someone. I thought about contacting the woman who had "Arnold" before and telling her it was a trial run that didn't work. She wasn't a fat sweet little fluffy kitten. She kind of looked like a little rat. Like the movie The Witches, when the women all drink their tea and are turning into little rats, she looked like them, but mid transition. Maybe I over exaggerate. But she wasn't loving. She didn't like me. But I think maybe I didn't like her because she was new. I was comfortable with Weasley. We were a team. Me & my boy. We didn't have room for this new thing I didn't know how to deal with. This new "thing" didn't fit in right away so I didn't want it. She was different and different broke my mold of complacency so back off different I am afraid of change.

So. I came home from work on the 4th day. And I saw Weasley and Chloe weren't in the living room. I went to my bedroom. And they were in my bed. Cuddling. She was actually giving him a cat bath. I just stood there and stared at them for a while. I had been worried, terrified Chloe Arnold the demon cat from under the vending machine from Hell was going to turn my golden child Weez into a brat that hated me, when, like the tree from Charlie Brown Christmas, it seemed all Chloe needed was a little love. Weasley was Linus! Makes sense, I named him after a sweet sidekick who saves the day, so, his Christmas alter ego is the same thing.

Now, almost every night, I get woken up by a kitten face forcefully rubbing on my cheeks and nose, requesting to get under the covers with me. My little Chloe is almost too sweet. My golden child Weasley? He likes to lay on my butt or down by my feet. But Chloe likes to cuddle hardcore. I have said that she is so loving, that if a villain had a rope ready to tie her to a train track she would gladly put on the damsel in distress dress and blonde wig and let him tie her down if the villain was going to pet her and love her. He would be twisting his dastardly moustache with one hand, petting Chloe with the other, as the train approached, she would be tied down to the tracks, purring and smiling with happy Anime kitty eyes.


This morning I woke up and I felt something soft curling onto my ankle, and I looked down and a sweet purring lump of cat was using my foot as a pillow. And it was Chloe (of course. Sometimes Weasley wakes me up the morning, but he will just be laying right next to my face staring at me. Like a creeper.) She is far from the melting witch of a woman turning into a rat I saw her as when I first took her in. I reached down, pet her and gave her love back and what did she do, but latched on, and bit me a little. So she isn't all sweet, she does have some attitude. (Maybe she would drop kick the moustached villain? Or bite and claw her way out of the ropes after she got her pets in?) But as soon as she got her nibble in she came up and cuddled with me, full on loud purr. I understand her. I gave her a chance and she has been worth it. And even though she bites me sometimes, she comes and crawls in my lap when I least expect it and gives me sweet kitten love (but it is at the moments I need it most.) And boy, does this special kitty make me laugh.

Bazinga

A blog is not the same as a journal because I self edit. I am free writing right now, I promise, but I am not as free as when I write pen in paper. See, free writing, pen in paper is not correct wordage. Pen on paper. I could fix it, but I am gonna leave it to prove my promise to the vast amounts of people who read this who I want to establish a genuine relationship of trust with.

I think in finding ourselves sometimes we have to lose ourselves. That has got to be some horrible cheesy cliche quote somewhere. Only when yourself is lost then find yourself you have. Less than three, Yoda.

I use self depricating humour to avoid letting people in.

I avoid one thought for too long so no one can get in either.

I avoid letting people in and I use them. (or I pretend to. I pretend to be in control, I think I really am the one being used.)

BAZINGA!... Bazinga.

Happy almost new year, let's try again 2012.

Christmas makes me feel like I live in a world on repeat. It happens again. Thanks for the Christmas card, Violet. Don't you know sarcasm when you hear it? I didn't watch Charlie Brown Christmas, but I have seen it so many times, I can just close my eyes and see Snoopy stick his tongue out and hear him go WAAAH. He really does make a great Penguin. My cats haven't seen it though, so I can watch it for their sake. I feel like sometimes I do things for other people's sake too much at this time of the year. I haven't mailed out my Christmas cards yet. I haven't even written in most of them. I want to, I just don't want to be that person who writes "Merry Christmas, from Rachel." I have wonderful beautiful heartfelt things to say to all of the people I want to send them to, I just keep purposefully distracting myself from Santa Claus. Everyone is getting cards after Christmas. I am sorry. And, I know what I want to make everyone for presents, I just want to sing karaoke and play video games instead. Because I am sleepwalking. I am mostly inspired, and I see glimpses of something that could inspire me greatly, but who knows, huh.