New Year's Promise

Master Rufus and I have come up with a plan. We will not, under any circumstances ring in the new year with wenches,drunkenness, catnip and general debauchery. We will conduct ourselves with dignity, quietly and with great reserve.

Actually, we don't have anywhere to go, so this is a plan we can both dig our nails into.

Some people would be saddened not to have anyplace to go, so let me be clear. I was invited to a party but I am just not feelin' it. You know? I want to be home. Really!

Followed by my last post, some of you are worried, I can feel it. Don't be. I'm good.

A few of my neighbors had fireworks last night and we watched out the kitchen window. At one point, Rufus looked at me as if to say, "Why is this interesting again?" and bounded away to return to his ball with the bell in it.

I turned my attention to his little dishes and decided he needed new ones. These are perfectly functional, but where's the whimsy? Where's the imagination? And this food of his is so bland. Surely they make a healthy assortment of tastier fare? I determine to investigate forthwith.

Rufus sidled past, allowing his tail to brush my leg, a clear sign he is in want of a treat. We played for a few minutes, me rolling his ball away from him while he watches it go. Me holding his treat over his head and him waiting patiently for me to realize he is not, afterall, a dog...

Wait a minute. Wait just one minute here! Is it possible? Am I... I AM! I have become
THE CAT LADY! I am mumbling to an unresponsive feline, making plans to spend actual money on things he could not possibly care about and using words like an old English school marm! FORTHWITH? Who says that?

That's it. I'm outta here. Gonna put on the Ritz...no. Scratch that. Gonna work-it with some tight denim and high heels and slam that party like it's 1999.

Rufus, my man. Enjoy your ball.

Holy Crap!

Oh, no. Oh, boy. Holy Crap! What in the world have I done?? I am in Mississippi. I am ALONE.

I wake up to that every day now. By the time my mind gets in gear and is able to soothe itself off the ledge with comforting thoughts like "What an adventure!" and "How fun is this?" I am in the shower doing the "It wasn't stupid, it was brave!" and "You are on the verge of something amazing!" routine that gets me thru lunch.

My job is pretty cool, actually. And the people I work with are very friendly and helpful. Welcoming even. The kids I mentor are an interesting bunch who keep me focused and determined to make a difference. It's hard to be too self-involved when dealing with their issues.

I come home to Rufus, the world's most amazing cat. He allows me to hold him and hug him. Not being a cat-person and his absolute indifference to people in general, we have managed to create a bond, a mutuality of interest and dependence that suits us very well. We like each other. It saddens both of us that we need each other, but it is what it is.

I spend as little time as possible wishing I could take all my decisions in the last few years and bundle them long enough to set fire to them. Try very hard not to waste time imagining the "what-ifs". Truth is, I would do almost everything differently, but then I realize it wouldn't matter in the end, anyway. I have...what? Grown? I don't know. Changed. Yes, I have changed so much I barely recognize myself. Sometimes I literally stop to analyze how I really feel on a subject. And that has been an odd feeling, not being at home in your own mind. It's almost as if I have dragged my body away from any comfort there is in friendships and family so that my soul can figure itself out in peace. And this poor soul is tired, embarrassed, laid low by it's own inability to figure things out.

I had grown to hate so many things. I hated that I hurt people, that I worried them and made them sad. I hated that I have been so wrong about so many things and that being wrong made me feel weak, ridiculous, laughable. I hated that with all my efforts to better my life, I managed to create the thing I wanted least in the world; that solitary life, nearly devoid of intimate interaction, passion and direction.

But you know what? I am stronger than I thought. It was brave, dang it, to step out of my comfort zone and go for what I thought would make me happy. And even though this sounds like I am miserable(I just reread this and it really does!), I am actually defiant again. At least I feel that defiance rising. I don't need people to complete me. I need me. Becky. The real Becky. I like me! The wrinkles, the thinning hair, the snoring! (I SNORE, everyone!!!) I am at peace with my faults and rather proud of my resilience. Everything I've experienced was important, vital to bringing true happiness into reality.

I think I am finally ready, now. I'm gonna LIVE!

Mother's Day

So I decided to pay homage to the momster and gather up a few particularly sweet situations where she showed her loving, compassionate motherliness. (It's a word!) You know. Those caring attributes all mothers exhibit. Here's what I came up with:

- SHARING She recently demanded we go to McDonalds. After watching me painstakingly select 10 perfect french fries from my little white bag, she casually reached over and dumped half of her box on top of them and said, "You shouldn't have gotten me this many. I never eat them all."

- CLARITY Yesterday she called me from the other end of the house, one of my all-time favorite things in the world, and said, "I thought you'd like to make me some lunch. I think I'll have a sandwich. A ham sandwich. With cheese. Grilled. With Mayo. Browned, but not burned." This request took about five minutes because every time I thought she was done I would start to walk away and she would add something else. Finally I said, "Is that all?" And she said, "Wait. Maybe I'd rather have soup."

- HELPFULNESS She just overheard me on the phone with the bank. I was saying that I hadn't received my statement and seemed to be locked out of my on-line account. She said, "You got your statement." I asked the bank employee to hold for a moment and asked, "Where is it?"
Mom said, "What?"
I (patiently, I swear)asked, ""The bank statement?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
"Mom, you just said I got it, so where did you put it?"
"I can't be held responsible for your things, Becky. It's just not right for you to ask me to do that."
I returned to the phone and said, "You know what, maybe I did get a statement afterall. I will look for that. But can you help me with the online account?"
Mom says, "Your password changed."
Eyeing this creature who looks remarkably human, I say, "I'm sorry, could I call you back?" I hang up and watch her for some sign of cognitive involvement. Nada. I say, "My password? Changed?"
"Someone called."
"About my password? Really? Where was I?"
"I can't be responsible for where you are every second of every day, Becky. It's..."
"...just not fair, I know. But the password changed? To what?"
"Scotty."
"The password is Scotty?"
"Maybe it was Marriage."
I stare at her.
"Or April. You were married in April, right?"
"August."
"Well maybe it is August, then."


Are you feelin' me, people? This woman literally rocks my world. On a nearly hour-by-hour basis. Oh Happy Day. Every Day. God love her. If we make it to next Mother's Day I intend to offer up some annoying things she's done...

Wassup?

OH, Alright!

Hello, my faithful few. I am writing you from purgatory (better known as Florida) and have a message to send out...HELLLLPPP!

Have you ever had a relative or friend who took a miserable amount of your time and effort for granted? Someone who, no matter how generous and supportive, still needed more? A miserable creature who ran from one ridiculous situation to the next with no apparent regard for how he/she would recover or even survive?

Did you find yourself continually helping, forever forgiving, consistently cooperating with the demands of this selfish, immature ingrate? I sincerely hope so.

I have come to the conclusion that helping others, especially those egregious leeches, is really more about you than it is about them. Helping, giving, supporting is an exercise in spiritual warfare, and continuing to "put out", as it were, is actually winning! It's not a game these people are throwing at us...it is war!

Think back to the time you have dodged the call, ignored the email, changed the subject before a loan request could be uttered. How'd that make you feel? Kinda bad, I'm thinkin'. Ever wonder why that is? I mean, for goodness sake, enough is enough, already. There's only so much you can ask of a person. There has to be a time when walking away is the right thing to do. Right? Wrong.

For the most part, if someone is asking you for something, it is something you can afford to give. Sure, it might tax your time/patience/wallet, but more times than not, you can find a way to do it with a modicum of effort on your part. Am I right?
Of course I am.

There are people in all our lives who cry wolf. Some of them need a good spankin'. Some could use a swift kick in the nether regions. Others would benefit from a therapist and some strong medication. But all of them need us.

It is so great to be needed. So precious to offer help. Such an unprecedented privilege to give. Because that means we have, we belong, we matter.

Soon we will all be the ones asking. Won't it be great to know when it was our turn to listen, we did everything we could to make things good. To make them right. To make them better than we had to. Because this is war, people. And winning isn't everything...it's how we won that will be remembered. And who we saved.