Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Talullah Belle

Talullah Belle is my sister's baby kitten.  Toolbelt, as I refer to her, is just about to turn 5 months old.  I am the babysitter while my sister and her boyfriend are enjoying a California vacation.  Last night, the little punk got lots of extra love and attention from me; only to attempt to murder me moments later. 
There I was, standing in the kitchen as the little baby sat cutely on the floor watching me.  While gabbing on the phone my eyes met hers and she leaped straight into the air and at my chest.  It was only a moment before I realized how the heck she was standing, propped, on me - looking me in the eye.  The little kamikaze kitten had landed with her back claw *IN* my left ring finger. 

Picture it: my hand was at my side and now, like a child standing on a grown ups hands as if stirrups, the stupid cat had all it's weight on it's one leg and it's claw torn into my flippin' finger!?  How the crap does this stuff happen to ME?

Of course I didn't just drop her because I didn't want to hurt or scare her.  I picked the cat up by the scruff of the neck and pulled her out of my finger (all the while mildly cussing).  Then came blood.  So much blood. It hurt so bad that I kept whipping my hand to somehow stop the pain; only later did I find dozens of tiny blood spatters that I then needed to clean up.  I washed it; bactine'd it, and bandaged it - but only after the bleeding stopped.  There was a good 5 minutes or so of me holding bloody wet papertowels on it, applying pressure while keeping it above my head!

I now have an inch long gash in my finger.  It literally *could* have been stitched.  If I had superglue I would have used that.  For real.  I would have.  Instead I just keep airing it and putting a band-aid over it with some neosporine.  A gash and another claw hole.  Must have been two claws.  I kid you not.

So, that shot my plans for dying my hair last night, and showering.  Good times.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Chapped Lips and Burnt Toast

Please do not ask me why I titled this post, "Chapped Lips and Burnt Toast".  It was the first thing that popped into my brain as I chewed on my bottom lip, as I often do, and thought about how when I was a child I used to love buttered toast with cinnamon on it.  Yum.

For the first time in a seemingly long while I produced some art today.  Nothing big.  Nothing great.  My delight comes purely from just the act of *doing* it.  Life gets itself so hectic and busy and then forces us to look back and think, wow, I wish I'd had more time for *insert project here*.  Today I just went for it.  At lunch I spent a good 20-30 min sitting on my futon, drawing.  With sharpies and colored pencils in hand, I drew a pic of myself as a child.  I changed the expression and some other things, but for the most part kept to the photo. 

This is what I created:

Yeah, I know it's not great, but it's SOMETHING.  I have never been that good at faces.  Honestly, I just avoided it most of my school years, really.  I focused on body parts, like the hands, and mastered them.  I left the faces for the "other guys".

Sorry, just had a Tommy Boy moment and pictured Chris Farley doing air quotes with his hands and saying, "other guys". 

Other than that, the cool, crisp Autumn air has filled the city.  My house is lit with candles that reflect the changes in the Season, and I sit, wrapped in my homemade afghan.  Happy.  Content.  I love this time of year!