January 14th, 2002

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Kitty Sets His Butt on Fire, Leaving a Beloved Therapist, and AOL Tech Hell.

My son's cat, Chippy, set his bottom on fire a few nights ago. I keep meaning to tell you, but then I get busy as usual. He's fine, no burns or anything, just singed off hair, but it was really scary.

I was taking a nice, long bath, with candles and Jen's wonderful, homemade, vanilla bath salts, and had lit a few sweet-smelling candles. Chippy and a few other kitties were milling around the edge of the tub. I've never had to worry about cats and candles, as long as you don't leave them alone together in a room, they're fine. Chippy, who you may remember is wearing a big, plastic, Queenie collar, to keep him from licking his favorite parts, is being treated with a kind of antibiotic ointment, that the vet prescribed. We put it all over his umm, well, genital region, to help it heal from all of that licking. Anyway, as Chippy passed by one of the candles, I saw the flame leap across the distance between it and Chippy, and set his whole bottom aflame. It was like Michael Jackson and the Pepsi commercial or Baked Alaska. It went whoomph, then I screamed, and Chippy screamed. I grabbed him and was going to dunk him in the tub when it suddenly went out. Chippy went screaming and skittering in to the other room, and there I was wet, naked, and stunned, with the smell of burned kitty bottom, and burnt fur ashes flying through the air. It turns out the ointment I've been using is extremely flammable. It lit on fire and burned itself out. Poor Chippy. He's okay though, no burns I promise.

I said good-bye to my beloved therapist Susan Pomerantz today. God, if there is anyone out there who needs the most loving, supportive, grooviest, angel-being of a therapist, (I also have a wonderful dentist), please let me know and I'll refer you. She's really, really, one of the kindest, loveliest, most supportive women I've ever known. It's so hard to say good-bye, so painful, in fact, that I kind of rushed off the phone, after she just gushed compliments at me.

I just feel that she helped me through the loss of Robby, helped me get over some scary addictive behaviors, helped give me a sense of Mother love that I'd been missing, helped bolster my self esteem, and was a tremendous source of unconditional positive regard, but that I need to shake things up a little and try something new. Our sessions had kind of turned in to girlie chat visits and I was finding excuses not to go and becoming super inconsistent. I learned so much from her, but I need something different now, maybe hypnosis, I don't know. I feel like I need someone more challenging somehow. I want homework or more analysis, something. If I had all the money in the world, I'd hire Susan to be my perfect therapy Mom/friend, and I would be so happy, but I don't have all the money in the world so I need to take my meager resources and put them somewhere new now.

I had a hard time with my AOL software this morning. For some reason it kept asking me for my password, and when it would deign to sign me on, would get locked up and frozen. I called the AOL techs, which is kind of like saying I called McDonald's and asked to speak with a French pastry chef, but what recourse do I have? Every time I talk to those, okay, I'll say it, awful people, they have a totally different fix or resolution. It's infuriating.

It's always the same; you wait forever, someone with a country accent (no offense to friends here) comes on and either walks me through things in the most condescending way, (do you see that little square on the bottom right hand corner of your screen, we call that the start button), or they rush me through some kind of fix, hurry me off the phone, and leave me frustrated and with my problem still unresolved at the next sign on.

Anyway, it was the same today; I waited forever, got a really stupid sounding fellow who said something along the lines of, "Yup, it's a goner, you're a gonna have ta reinstall all a your screen names, and jest ferget about your filin cabinet, e-mail, favorite places, and any stored files you mighta had, they're goners." When I asked to speak to someone else I wound up getting bounced back and forth between DSL techs, and Windows techs, both departments claiming the problem wasn't theirs, until I finally found one incredibly surly individual who actually helped me and fixed the problem. I told him, "You know, to be honest here, you're seriously lacking in the people skills department, but hey that's par for the course with AOL. I'm grateful that you helped me resolve this, who can I write a recommendation to?" He said Steve Case, so I did. I know you're going to tell me I'm a lame geek for staying with them, but I've been with them since Mac E-world was around, (anyone remember that, it was so cute) and darnit it if I'm not stubbornly loyal that way. Plus it has some pretty useful content. Okay go ahead, let me have it, again.
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We forgot the carpool ayeeeeee!

Oh man, I'm busy clearing out all of my old e-mail, making sure all of my eBay auctions have been paid, and the items delivered, or on their way, so I sent Saida (Saida has replaced Noemi, long story, I'll catch you up on this later,) to pick up Beau and Shayan. I was sitting here at my desk when the intercom rang and Beau said, "Mom, Saida made a big mistake. She forgot to pick up Shayan at school and he's still there, and his Dad is on the phone asking for him." Now Shayan's Dad is a scary guy, not exactly a cuddly bear type, and we are all really afraid of his temper. He's Persian and if you've heard him yell in Farsi once you would understand why we don't want to rile him.

So my son forgot his friend, his friend who he has been in carpool with allllll year long. He blames it on poor Saida who doesn't have a clue if or when Shayan will come with Beau, because she's new to this, and just last week Shayan came with Beau one day, Steven and Shayan came with Beau another day, and on Friday Shayan's father picked him up. It's entirely Beau's fault, oh and maybe a tiny bit Shayan's fault for always running off and playing when it's time to come home. It's just super frustrating that Beau has such a hard time being responsible. If he said, "Oh Mom I made a terrible mistake, I forgot to get Shayan." I'd say, "Oh no honey, let's go get him," and, "what can we do to make sure this doesn't happen again." But to have him put Shayan's angry father on hold, forget about him, and then blame Saida, who is brand new, and I am totally dependant upon, is just not cool. Then of course I got angry, raised my voice, in order to get him to stop explaining how it's all someone else's fault, and then he got hysterical and I feel like the mean Mom.

I called Shayan's dad, and left a message on his machine. I took full responsibility, told him I'd be horrified if something like this happened to my son. I apologized and gave him my word that nothing like this will ever happen again and explained how Saida is new and Beau forgot. Now I have to wait and see what his response will be. Argh, argh, argh. Oh well, what can I do? Turn it over I guess. What exactly does that mean anyway. I've hard it in meetings for years and just realized I don't know what it means? Turn over the problem? Oh wait, I got it, turn it over to God, I think, sheesh, I'm a bad twelve stepper to have forgotten that. Blah, back to the eBay grind, wish me luck.
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Oh look, finally, another one of my Grandmother's dresses. This one has some stains and damage though, but maybe I can clean and repair it. Slowly but surely I'm putting together a collection. I wish they weren't so hard to find. I see so many vintage dresses on line that could be either my Grandmother's or my Mom's, but without the label, I just can't be sure. I wish I could get my Mother to sit down and go through the eBay auctions with me and tell me if any of these dresses are theirs, but she just doesn't have the patience for it. I've tried. I suppose when I'm her age I'll be just the same, I mean I'm already reluctant enough to learn anything new that I haven't even tried to install my new DVD player yet, who knows what things will be invented in my lifetime that will be hard for me to grasp;

In my Mom's life she's seen the invention of the refrigerator, radio, television, the car, commercial aviation, the microwave. It's no wonder VCRs and Computers are weird to her. I just wish she'd try. I suppose she could say the same about me and some of my problems though. I mean you can't fault an eighty-six year old woman who does Pilates and is lifting weights. She's pretty amazing.



And here's one of Mom's.



Live Journal is acting up so I can't get this to post. I'm pissed at Esther because we started a new antibiotic for the kittens and she didn't bother telling Saida about it. Esther works weekends, Saida works during the week. When I asked Saida to call Esther for instructions I learned that even after carefully explaining how much medication to give the kittens and which ones to give it to, she just went ahead and gave too much to only two kittens and was giving Saida the same instructions. I love Esther, she's like family to me, but when she screws up because of laziness or just not caring it really, really pisses me off. I don't think the cats should have to pay the price for this, I don't think I should have to. It just really makes me angry because I am so kind and considerate. Oh gar, forget it, I'm just really pissed!
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Oh puhleeeeease, VCA, my long time vet hospital, just called me for a customer satisfaction survey. This place is the most corporate, greedy, money-hungry animal hospital on the planet. Since when do they do customer surveys? I wonder if they;re losing business.

At one point I was spending thousands of dollars a month there on animal care. I am an extremely loyal person, I really, really, hung in there with them, but I was made to wait sometimes as many as three or four hours to be seen, I was treated rudely by office staff and doctors on a pretty consistent basis, and they were totally heartless and unbudging when it came to pricing. I spent a lot of time answering this survey, but I think it's a case of way too little, way too late. It'll surprise me if anything changes because of it, I think they're just looking for scapegoats.

After I left them in November, took my huge animal business elsewhere, they actually sent me a basket of fruit for Christmas. Huh. They never noticed me before, why now? I'll go to them for emergencies but as for my regular vet needs I've found someone else.

Okay, screw Fear Factor, never again, they're making people eat cow brains, like oooh that's such a cool weird thing to do. Last time I watched it, I felt badly for the scorpions and worms they put in these boxes with the celebritie's heads, I thought they were getting smushed when they pulled their heads out. Now I really hate them. Never again, never, ever, ever. Going to go whine about this on the animal rights community journal.

I think most of my posts have been in this kind of bad mood vein today, sorry.
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A Hurtful Fight With My Boyfriend

If you could hear me you would have heard a big sigh. I made this a friends only post, but now that my boyfriend has a journal he'll be able to read this, oh well, I need to be able to share what I'm going through with my pals on my journal so as long as I'm not being too public with this stuff then I just have to hope it'll be okay.

We were just IMing each other. He was going to come over tonight at ten or ten thirty, but he's tired and we haven't had dinner yet, and he wasn't hungry. We were talking about canceling tonight when I started to tell him about my scary dreams from last night. I'd started to tell him earlier but he gets really busy at work. I totally understand and had thought I would tell him when I saw him tonight but since we weren't going to see each other after all I thought I'd tell him while he was there on the computer.

He made this hurtful joke and then he was kind of callous and disconnected when I was trying to get him to understand how it hurt my feelings. This kind of thing has happened before, this hurtful joking that he does sometimes, when I tell him something serious. Although he said he was tired and distracted by the television, which in itself is hurtful, being made the victim of a stupid callous remark, because he's too busy watching television to pay attention to what I'm saying to him and what he says back.

I'd copy the IM in here directly, but he's very private and would be offended. I'll just recap it; basically I started telling him about my dreams. First I told him that I dreamt he had gotten braces, and these weird, coke-bottle thick glasses. He looked really geeky and strange, but I remembered thinking, this doesn't matter, I love him no matter how he looks. Then I told him I had some scary dreams about going to gynecologists, being put on different tables, my feet in stirrups, being frightened and treated really badly. His response to this was what hurt me, he replied with a sensitive and witty, "Maybe you should put braces on your pussy." What?

While he was writing this to me I had been writing about how frightened I was, that I was in pain, and that all of these gynecologists had been rooting around inside me, pinching me, hurting me, and that I was hemorrhaging, bleeding so much that I was coughing up blood. The dream had been so disturbing that it stuck with me all day. After his creepy distracted response I tried to figure out what to do, because he doesn't always handle my hurt very well, so I just copied what he had said, and then pasted it back in and added, hmmmmm, hoping that in reading his own words he would see how insensitive his remark had been. Then he said, don't be mad (because that's all he really cares about, being mad at him scares him because it brings up his fear of abandonment) and I told him I was hurt as opposed to mad. Then he told me he had thought we were signing off and had been distracted by the television. I told him I wanted to go, but he gets insecure when he thinks I'm mad at him. He told me he'll call me in an hour. Why an hour? TV or pot? It seems cynical and sad, but I don't get that he wants to resolve things as much, because he's concerned about my hurting, as he is about his having to live with the discomfort of being in conflict.

I deserve so much better than this. I know he's tired. I know he's an escapist addict and I love him despite these flaws. He loves me despite mine. I try to look the other way, except when I'm made the victim of them. I deserve to be in relationship with a Scott who cares about me, who cares about something as seemingly inconsequential as my dreams. I deserve a partner who when he's communicating with me in any form, is taking enough time to be careful not to say something stupid or vulgar or hurtful. He always has an excuse when he hurts me, it was his tiredness, it was the TV, it was an alien landing on his fucking roof that made him behave like a boorish bastard and say that stupid thing, that's what it was.

It's just that my parents used to do this to me all the time. They were always buried in work, or the paper, or the television. I was so incredibly lonely, all alone in these big houses, no brothers or sisters, my parents always away or busy, with only the maids and cooks for company. I remember having to stand in front of the damned television, or waving my hands in front of the paper to get their attention. I love Scott, he is so wonderful to me most of the time. It's just that when he is off he is really off. When he behaves in such an insensitive freaky sexist kind of way I get really hurt and put off. I wonder what it is about him that makes him do this. Is he high? Doesn't he care? I know he's tired but I just don't get it. How can someone so pro-women make such a tasteless insensitive joke?

I forgot to mention that my cat Friendly died. At least I don't think I did. What a sad couple of days these have been.

Thanks for reading.

Love you guys,
Jac

PS: I just got off the phone with him. I had to wait the hour for him to sober up, and for whatever fucking television show he was watching to be over. I cut the call as short as possible. I'm such a schmuck, oh and we ordered dinner delivered, and it had been over an hour and a half since I called. It got here a while ago and Beau didn't even bother to tell me. I ordered an extra dinner for Scott, who will probably make this whole thing all about how mean I am to him, by not just understanding he needed to be a television watching party head. I love him so much and sometimes I feel like I should just get over it and not make such a big deal about these little things but it really hurts. It hurts to have him not pay attention enough to me because he's toos toned and distracted to care enough to. I am so depressed. Don't worry I'm just feeling sorry for myself, I'll be over it by tomorrow.
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