Cicatriz*

I have a lot of war scars that really I should be in awe for having but gross me out to no extent. The physical ones, they are like tattoos I never asked for.  I tried to get them erased once, a roommate saw them and said "looks like the pattern on Charlie Brown's sweater".  I laughed it off but inside I was embarrassed.   My love life is pretty much extinct.  Even the inkling of a relationship bring up fear and anxiety of having to explain these parasites.   I have other scars, one from being on the receiving end of someone not checking the window to see if someone was behind the swinging door before opening it, another from a fall I took after falling out of the car, I even have one conveniently placed on my jugular.  I had a complete stranger ask me once, "what's that from" I thought it was extremely rude so I told them I was stabbed with a knife and concocted this gruesome story...they quietly walked away. 

When I was born, I almost died.  The nurse told my mom I was a fighter.  She could tell because for that short time she did hold me she could feel it.  I wonder what she felt because I don't feel like much of a fighter.  I spend too much time alone and have perfected the skill of over analyzing things which in turn makes me socially awkward and left standing on the sidelines. It's funny how the one thing that does prove I'm a fighter makes me cower and resort to hiding myself from myself and others.  When I'm asked why I have low self esteem or great dislike for myself one word comes up and that it cicatriz.

I know I should just get over this "woe es me" feeling I also know I should be grateful I am alive, have a house, a car, and a job and I am. These scars are holding me back and just ONCE, I would like to know what it's like to just be thought of or have someone want to be with me just because they want to not because they are bored, trying to use me, get back at someone else or (and I cringe) feel obligated.   Honestly, it's been so long that I don't remember what another persons intimate touch feels like, physically or emotionally.  I'm just going through the motions of life watching everyone else "get it" metaphorically and literally. 

*Spanish for scar

The Grudge

Just as things are going smoothly the universe throws a curve ball at you just to test how you react.  I don't have a lot of family in the states and the family I do have, are not in my life.  My mom called me from England today to tell me that my cousins husband committed suicide in February.  He drove his car to the Golden Gate Bridge, put weights in his pockets and jumped.  I haven't seen my cousin in over 15 years.  She lives 45 minutes away from me.  I can't tell you what happened, no, wait, I can...when my father died, not one of my cousins called or came over to help.  Not one, I'm sorry, not one hug, not one small gesture that they, as family, were there to support my sister, my mother, or me.  And you know what, that just plain sucks.  As a result of this, my mom cut my aunt from her life.  History has repeated itself and I have, in order to keep my own sanity, had to cut my sister from my life.

So when is enough enough?  When do you throw down the gauntlet and hash it out to where there would be some sort of communication?  It's been so long now, do I really want to communicate?  I've tried to reach out in the past and received a luke warm reception.  On far and few occasions I have seen either my aunt or one of the cousins around the bay area.  Not a word is said not even a little glimmer of recognition.  It's surreal yet how we, as a family, have learned to deal with the ultimate rejection.

When it comes to people I'm not related to I have no problem helping someone that asks but now I'm torn, do I offer up help, do I just sit and wait, or do I just shrug it off and get on with my life until another curve ball is thrown?

The Boat, The Car, and YOU

2011 has been a really crappy year for me.  I'm tired of posting about death, sickness, and insecurities.  I lost a lot of my old postings but found this nugget:

_______________________________________________________________

 

We can see you! You blatant unyielding bold yet nasty little people we call nose pickers! Yes....we can see you directing your index finger in the northern direction to that orface of a nostril just waiting to connect and collect that well sought after juicy booger. We can see you looking at it and inspecting it for it's contents. We-can-see you!

Why is it that people on public transportation or in their cars think they are obsolete to the world when it comes to doing human basic functions that are generally reserved for the bathroom? This act of disregard for the public happened twice this week. Once while enjoying my much deserved Gin & Tonic I sink into my seat on the ferry and think Ahhhhhh....I'm done for the day, then you--Mr. I insist in sitting right in front of you and block your view of the city with my big melon shaped head and hair that hasn't been introduced to a comb in about a decade....it's bad enough I had to count the bits of dandruff floating upon your noggin, but when you proceed to park your finger in your nostril and move it about...that was the last straw! I quickly downed my drink and in disgust stared at the back of your head wondering to myself....how many boogers does a booger picker pick???

Then there's the quite handsome man next to me at the stop light going to town full throttle picking his nose and I'm almost positive if it was juicy enough, he would have eaten it! He was licking his chops and investigating the product that lay on the tip of his finger.....as I starred at you....you didn't notice until you were completely satisfied with the afternoon pickens, you gave me the deer in headlights look then in embarrassment, you stared straight ahead and I laughed uncontrollably.

You are not invisible. You can be seen, and unless it is one of your fetishes to be picking your nose in public, we can see you!

Thank you and good night

-Anti-public Nose Pickers of America

The Blue Dot

No, not the restaurant, the blue round stone that I found in my bag today. It has this question printed on it : "What would you attempt to do it you knew you could not fail"?  Here's a few things that come to mind:

-Get a job where I felt like I was contributing and growing
-Finish three books this week
-Go on a walk after work
-write more
-put myself out there more
-learn to let go
-finish cleaning out my garage

That's all I can think of right now. 

Being Human

There’s always that one moment where two people connect.  Not just for a superficial reason but for a deep, spiritual, emotional, understanding that they connect.  No words need to be exchanged.  It could be a glance, a stance, or just an unspoken knowing.  This is a gift that doesn’t come around very often and when it does, it should be embraced and not taken for granted.

For me this experience happened when I went to pick up the ashes of my six month old kitten.   I picked up Twist and behind me was a lady who I overheard telling the receptionist that she too was there to pick up her recently departed pet.  I walked out of the vet and she soon followed suit.  She was parked right next to me and in that one moment we both had a glance of understanding.  Our beloved pets were reduced to ashes in a box and sitting in the front seat of both our cars.  I got out of my car and went around to her car and we both just hugged each other and had a little cry. 

It was a beautiful rationalization of human perceptive and compassion.  In that one moment we didn’t need to explain ourselves, we were strangers, and yet we were feeling, thinking, and acting on the same thing.  Two strangers for just that one split second in our lives knew that instinctively, just a hug was all we needed at that time.

Sure we both went home and buried our sorrow but after picking up our pets the wound was just as fresh as the instant the doctor said “I’m sorry”.  That one moment is so surreal that it will forever remind me that human compassion is the most underappreciated and misunderstood emotion.  It also taught me, to follow my heart, when it’s obvious that someone is in pain, all they need is a hug, kind word, or just someone to stop and listen to what they have to say.  We are all so busy in our own little lives that our blinders have been infused to our heads that recognizing someone’s pain and need for human compassion is often ignored. 

The Boob Crusher

You know those kids in kindergarten that get labeled as the "glue or crayon eater"?  Well, In the midst of loosing one cat I adopted another cat and she is one of those except she prefers paper & computer cords.   Even though she is a paper/cord eater, Lenore has been my savior.  She saved Oliver from loneliness after Twist died and she saved me from hitting the bottom of the despair bucket when Oliver died.   I've had her for only two months but in those two months she's managed to eat almost all of the paper products, taken over as the alpha of the house, and managed to get herself stuck up the chimney which when she eventually did get out resulted in a dunk in the bathtub.  When Lenore runs, it's like that a cartoon because she tip toes on all four legs and scurries around.   Lenore likes to knead me.  I like it too but mostly because she does it in such a funny way.  Most cats just sit down and use the front two feet, Lenore uses all four feet at the same time.  It's like she's marching in place.

One thing that I'm trying to teach her not to do is to stand on my boobs!  She doesn't understand that it hurts!   She wants to snuggle which I don't mind but she wants to sit right on my chest.  Especially when I'm trying to catch up on my shows on Hulu, write an email, or just surf the net.  She wants to be right in front of the screen.  I've discovered that although hugs and pets are warmly received she doesn't take kindly to kissing so when she is sitting on my boobs all I have to say is "I guess you want kisses then?" and she hops off.  I'm hoping this is just a phase because I don't think my boobs or I can take it much longer. 

Oliver

Geeze, enough already universe!  Tuesday was yet again the day from hell.  It started out o.k. work was so so and I had my first client! Then IT happened...IT happened again!  I had been noticing for about a week that Oliver's third eyelid in each eye was protruding out.  Sunday night, I emailed the vet to ask about it.  Tuesday afternoon the vet called me and said to bring him in because it could be a sign he is sick.  After my session, I chased him around and finally got him into the carrying case....not before noticing that he was dragging his back legs.  "Oh no, he's sprained or torn something in his leg".  Got him to the vet where upon when they took him out of the case he had completely seized up.  Sound familiar? Twist

The vet technician whisked him away....that one moment is ingrained into my memory forever now.  10 min later the vet came in to explain that Oliver was sick.  My baby boy was VERY sick.  He had the feline equivalent of what happens to athletes when they are perfectly healthy one minute and drop dead due to heart failure the next.    She did xrays and found that his heart was enlarged and blood clots were in his legs (which would explain the dragging of the feet).  I could not believe this was happening AGAIN!  The vet was super nice and was very through in explaining to me what was happening but at the same time she was trying to tell me (without sounding cruel) that it's not good and he will most likely not make it.  WTF!  What is happening to my babies!!!! 

Shortly after she left she came back in and brought me to him.  He was on a table, tubes sticking in and out of him, they were doing CPR but his tongue was already purple.  One minute later, he was gone.  I'm stunned, dismayed, flabbergasted, and deeply deeply hurt by this....but you know what, at least I now know what happened to Twist.  They are together now, playing, running, wrestling, and most likely loving being together again. 

Goodbye my baby boy, you also left a big hole in my heart, and an even bigger one in my wallet, but mostly my heart.  I'm sorry you were sick, I'm sorry I didn't get you to the vet sooner but I'm glad you are no longer hurting.  I'm going to miss your flavorful remarks at meal times, your instance of shoving your balls (or there lack of) in my face, and the way you would hug my feet in the morning as if it say "GET UP MOMMA".  Thank you for letting me be your mommy.  Goodbye, Lovie.