Hating Haters

I was recently catching up on last week's Daily Show, and had an epiphany. You see, I am known by my closest of friends for my disapproval of and hatred of certain things like mayonnaise and Juliet Lewis. Then I saw the error of my ways. The Daily Show likes to show me clips from Glen Beck. And that's when I heard it. Beck said of Woodrow Wilson, "I hate that guy.... I really, really hate that guy." Bitch stole my line; then had the gall to use it again a beloved President. So now the line is ruined. I will try to not hate this fact. It will be difficult. I will now merely disapprove.

Hope is good but prepare for the worst

A dear friend of mine is a couple weeks away from unemployment. She has been interviewing for positions in the non-profit and higher ed realms to no avail. It is a scary and frustrating experience for her. The fortunes in fortune cookies have not been helpful. Her latest fortune read, "Hope is good, but prepare for the worst." No a ringing endorsement for future success. That said, we started thinking of worse fortunes to receive (since she should be prepared.) Here are a few.
You love but are unlovable.
Enjoy today, you might not have tomorrow.
Eat that slice of pizza, a few more pounds won't make a difference at this point.
You got the raise, but your wife earned it.
Why bother
Be grateful for the problems you don't have - yet.

Crazy Cat Lady

The love of my life has a love of his life - his Tonkinese. Tonks are a breed of cat that is a combo of Burmese and Siamese. We currently have two senior Tonks and no local breeders since the one we used died of cancer a couple years ago. Today on Facebook I saw a Tonk that is currently being held in Animal Control. Of course, I am making an effort to pick him or her up and save the cat from euthanasia. Our Tonks are both over 14 years of age. One of them is on borrowed time and won't be with us for much longer. My love wants to always have a Tonk in the house, so I am doing my best to make it happen.

A Letter to a Colleague

Dear ----,
I don't know how to say this to you directly, and I am sure you would not listen even if I did just tell you, but your spouse is a loser. Now, I am not one to randomly throw stones. I understand that not everybody gets my own life choices, but our relationship works. Yours does not seem to. Not only does he look like a toad and lack ambition, but he does not seem to treat you as well as he ought. You are sad and unengaged. I would love to be your friend, but just knowing you are married to him really puts me off of any long term investment in friendship with you. I don't mean to be mean. I have confirmation of his general loser-ness from folks that work with him. No one says, oh, he is a great guy. He is not fun. He is not smart. You really should drop him now before it is too late and complicated. It is still early enough in your marriage to get out unscathed. There are no kids and no complicated finances. Just leave and find happiness.
Ernestly,
Sadie

Letting Go

Anger is slowly draining from my body. Out of the tips of my fingers, through the top of my head, out of the bottoms of my feet. Frustration is quickly fading from my mind. Darting out of my eyes, flying out of my ears, dashing out of my mouth with every breath.

Losing My Mind

Today there was a dead black cat in the road and I just wanted to cry. Last Sunday there was a dog on the interstate in the back of a truck (one of my biggest pet peeves). I almost had an anxiety attack. Right now I am way too emotional when it comes to animals. Animals are just a handy symbol since they themselves hold very little responsibility. I know my over emotional reactions are indicative of some other repressed feelings. I think I am still dealing with the deaths of my own animals, watching Staci pass, my desire to fix things - which stems from my interesting childhood, and our decision to not have a child. I do not regret any of these things; I just have not fully dealt with the emotional repercussions. I probably need a good cry. Unfortunately I am at work right now so I will try to hold back the tears until I have the space and time to unpack things. I am not actually losing my mind - just dealing with life as it comes.

The Dinner Party

A couple weeks ago I was running in the evening and a very creepy guy was on his bike singing. He told me he was a musician and was working on a song. I was not impressed. He stopped and got off his bike at the little yellow house across the street. The guy looked like a youngish David Johansen (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Johansen) which might explain the creep factor from the start. That guy always weirded me out. Anyway, the vibe he gives off is one of "If I am found hacked into tiny pieces, he did it."
Apparently, I am not the only person in the neighborhood that finds the guy off. He has creeped out every other woman on my block. We are a tight-knot block and discuss these things. The little yellow house is "FSBO" but the sign was mysteriously taken down. In our paranoia, we have decided that the gut is squatting in the house and setting up a meth lab. Sure this might seem like a stretch of the imagination... until you have talked to the guy.
Trying to not upset the norms, he approached our neighbors and gave his "life story." He is an ex-con(I am fine with this) that has no car, runs a half-way house (meaning he has to live there as part of his parole), and has been hired to "clean up the yellow house." He hopes to buy it from the owners. The house is listed at $170K and needs another 45K in updates. There is no way a guy that cannot afford a car and has no steady real employment will get a bankloan to buy the house. He also asked where he could score some acetone to refinish the floors. No one uses acetone to redo floors. Meth lab. Being the concerned neighbors that we are, we called the police.