Beans with No Nuts...

My little 5 month old, Beans, is getting his business chopped today (as I type).  Beans is my kitten.  He's a cuddly teddy bear and I freaking love him.  I dropped him off this morning and the doctor embarrassed him by searching (once again) for his business.  Uno.  They have to go into his abdomen with another incision and find his other man-bit.  Poor guy felt like less than a man's man in front of the woman doctor.  *sigh*  After today, I'll have Beans with no nuts.  No nuts and a shaved belly.

Loss Comes with Change...

It's been a very long time, over a year in fact, that I've had the same template on here.  Since that time, Blogger has experienced a boom in the amount of templates they are offering for backgrounds.  I find it funny that by "boom" I really mean they've gone from like 5 options (with 5 sub-options) to somewhere around 10 (with about 20 sub-options) - ooh, advancement!  *sarcasm*

For me, I've always looked outside the box for my templates.  I find one that I like and then I tweak it to how I want it to work.  (Read: I cut out all the attachments and add-ons that come with someone else's homemade template, and by doing so I have taught myself a whole bunch about reading HTML codes!)

After my diatribe a few months back about leaving it (my blog style) alone for awhile, I've now full out changed it.  I'm a girl, you should just expect that!  Now, I'm forced to deal with the annoying issues that come with change.  You're probably wondering, "What are those?"  Well, let me tell you!  Disappearing everythings, that's what!  Friends blogs have vanished.  People I followed have *poof*ed into thin air.  It's incredibly agitating.  Instead of enjoying the changes I've begun I am now forced to piece it all back together.  Good times.

Eew.

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.

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!

Cool Beans

There are so many random things that I've thought about in the past few days. Seriously random. Weirdly random. Like last night I was daydreaming about walking down a hallway where the walls were made entirely of empty cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. Hilarious to me is the fact that I don't even drink beer, and I don't think I've ever even tried P.B.R. before! Regardless, the white cans made awesome walls in my fleeting thought.

I know. Strange.

My best friend, Amie, and I have known each other since we were 4 or 5. We've been best buds for 25 years now. Isn't that great? We survived all our difficult phases of life, including teen years, and still love each other. It's basically a modern day miracle. For as long as I can remember we have used the phrase, "Cool beans." Let me give you some examples if you are unfamiliar with this phrase.

Amie: Want to go to the movies?
Me: Sure
Amie. Cool beans.

OR:

(after a fight or argument)
Me: Alright then....cool beans?
Amie: Cool beans.

It's kind of like a cooler version of "hug it out, bitch". However, during the make-up "cool beans" there will sometimes be the follow-up "hug it out, bitch". It's usually not stated, just done.

My friend Brian recommended a movie to me last year. The movie was called "Hot Rod". It's a Napoleon Dynamite-type flick about a loser late-teen early 20 year old guy who wants to be a stuntman but he basically fails at life. He obviously doesn't realize this fact though.

To be honest, the first time I watched it I thought it was so-so. However, every time I've viewed it since...it just gets more and more funny. My favorite scene, since day one, is posted below. It is so incredibly random that I just about peed myself. Let me set it up for you. A fight between friends/brothers has occurred. Rod goes into the other guys bedroom to make his apology. The following is the result...




It came out of left field in the movie, yet, it's creepily so much like my life.  THIS is how things happen in my world. 

My life should absolutely me a reality show.  I know it for a fact.

Gaga for Gaga

(picture borrowed from holgablog)

Tonight is Gaga.  GAGA!!!!!!  I am actually going to the Lady Gaga concert at the Bradley Center in Milwaukee!!!!!  I seriously cannot wait.  I'm so freakin' excited.

(photo borrowed from the Manila ticket selling website)

This concert shall be very entertaining to say the least.  I never get breaks like this - I am like a kid in a candy shop!

Too bad my teal pleather one-piece swimsuit is at the cleaners, otherwise I'd so rock it.  I'm sure all the people in Milwaukee will be disappointed that I wont have all my junk hanging out on display.  Far less people will be puking on the streets I suppose. Ha!  Even though I have no time to truly get all "did" up for this show, you can bet that I'll sport my weird glasses that I'm wearing in my profile pic.  Heck. Yes.

Stop Thinking

I have been thinking way too much.  It's both good and bad.  Good because it's me, it's what I do.  Bad because it often serves as a reminder of the truth of my life at the moment and for the future.  Reality isn't a horrible and depressing thing, it's just, if I lose the romantic side of me (the dreamer), then...well....it can be.

"'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."  - Alfred Lord Tennyson (In Memoriam)

That statement is one that I've often quoted, or heard quoted, in my lifetime.  Fairly regularly it has been posed as a question instead of a stated fact.  I must admit that until this week I always thought that I agreed.  However, now I am uncertain and it bugs me to say the least.  It bothers me because I can neither firmly say I agree or that I disagree.  What's up with that?

It wasn't until a few days ago that I discovered (through research) where the quote originated.  Alfred Lord Tennyson.  Alfred was the poet laureate of the United Kingdom during the time of Queen Victoria's reign.  Oddly enough he took the title of poet laureate after the death of another poet that I love, William Wordsworth.  Wordsworth penned one of my favourite poems, "Daffodils".

Tennyson penned the now famous line that I quoted above, in the 27th canto of his poem/work titled 'In Memoriam'.  Alfred finished this piece in 1849.  It was written as a requiem to one of his closest friends that died of a cerebral hemorrhage when he was in his early 30s.  This piece took 17 years to complete and is a testament to the internal (and eternal) struggle and soul-searching that Tennyson was experiencing over this time.  Something that you come to understand very intimately when you yourself have lost a loved one.

While searching the roots of this famous saying, I decided to read 'In Memoriam'.  Honestly, I have yet to finish it.  But the first few Cantos floored me.  The depth of his writing, pain, and emotions are so incredibly rich.  I found myself wishing that I was in school again; wishing that I was in a class whose sole purpose was dissecting apart this work piece by piece.  And so I will.  Eventually.  Perhaps it's in one of the many poetry books that I own.  If so, I can picture myself laying on a blanket by the lake, reading and writing till my hearts content.

In the end, I always thought I'd rather know love and lose it, than to never know it at all.  I have a friend who was married and had a child, then the husband died.  He was her love.  She lost him and has spent her life raising her children, and now she's alone.  That is so sad to me.  I always thought I'd rather have that than what I've had at this point...which is, well, nothing.  But, as I realized on yet another dark night of me entering my house, late and alone, maybe this is best for me. 

I have no one to worry if I don't come home at night.  I have no one to check in when I work late hours.  I have no one to care if my day was crap.  I have no one to help me, care for me, worry over me (or with me), assist me, be annoyed by (or with) me...I have nothing.  I have me and my two cats.  It's sad.  But I wonder if it would be harder to deal with if I *had* had those things at some point...

The closest comparison would be my Mom.  We used to talk every day, whether I wanted to or not.  She always cared how I was or where I was.  I miss that now that she's gone.  Ironically, I am so thankful that I *did* have that, have *her*, in my life.  So does that mean I'd rather have and lose than not have and not lose?  I honestly don't know anymore.

"'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."