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.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
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!
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!
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