Oooooh look at the cute Sphynxy cat. These aren't ours but they're so cute I wanted to share them with you. We have three Sphynx kitties, Leon, Cio Cio and Baby Angel -- we call both of them Piggy for short because they look like little wrinkled pigs.
Today is my son Beau's fourteenth birthday. If you'd like to make a little guy a little happier you can send him an e-mail. His e-mail address is email@example.com.
I don't know how so much time has zoomed by. It feels as if it was just minutes ago that I was dressing him in our family christening dress, singing him to sleep at night every night, or tying his tie for him for his kindergarten graduation.
The two main things he wanted for his birthday were an Ipod and an extreme styley looking electric guitar. I got the Ipod for my Mom to give him, and I bought the guitar on eBay. For his cake I ordered a pile of his favorite brownies from Bellwood Bakery and we're going to stack them on top of each other in the shape of a cake. I also bought him some tee-shirts from Giant Robot and another anime store on Sawtelle and a limited edition, (his is #1 of 30), print of this David Bowie piece by this artist who makes these little paintings of famous people in Lego form. It's so cool, it has a quote from Bowie about change and art, and then there are a series of little David Bowie Lego people from each of his different phases. I also got these little buttons/pins by the same artist; there's a Jesus button, an Axis of Evil collector's set of the men in charge of our country right now, a Sid Vicious one and someone else, oh Che Guevara. I also got some little stickers and a couple of funny stuffed animals.
Beau has to go to school tomorrow, or today really, because the kids are taking standardized tests this week. I'm going to stop by at lunch and bring him the things he's asked me to get at Subway, then and this is going to sound even more healthy than that, he wants me to take him to dinner somewhere that has really good dinner rolls. He just wants rolls and butter for dinner because he gets to have whatever he wants for his birthday dinner. Not that he doesn't pretty much eat whatever he wants for dinner normally, but tomorrow I won't nag him about eating salad and vegetables, I'll just let him eat his dinner rolls in peace. I just have to figure out what kind of restaurant to go to for freshly baked rolls.
I'll bet you all ten dollars that his shit friend Steven and his Mom don't even know or care that it's his birthday. These people I've done so much for, made myself available at a moment's notice, clocked hundreds of free baby-sitting hours, forgiven so many slights and super uncool acts of aggression against our home and things, and it ends like this. Heh. They'll be back as soon as Steven starts to be abusive to his Mother and she wants to get away from him and go to a dance class or just have some time to herself only this time I wont say yes. I have clearly set my sights on finding better friends for my little man, he deserves them.
I miss Irma and the kids so much. We're really going to feel it tomorrow. This will be the first birthday we've spent in over two years without them. We developed this happy tradition of celebrating every birthday together with cake and presents and favors, and with Irma's four kids, Irma, Esther, Andrea, Eduardo, Beau and myself, that was a minimum of ten birthday parties spent around my dining table downstairs, so it became something of a tradition for us. Sometimes we even rented moon bounces. God, if I keep writing about this I'm going to cry.
I just feel like I'm letting Beau down if I don't pull off this big deal birthday for him and since I'm so terrible at planning and am such a pokey procrastinator, I'm worried that I've left too much to the last minute. I would have done anything he wanted for his birthday this last weekend but all he wanted was to stay home, have Steven come over, and play guitar with him. It never, ever, in a million years occurred to me that Steven would blow him off so coldly and Beau would be so hurt that for the first time he wouldn't come to me and tell me what was bothering him for two whole days. BTW if you do drop him a little birthday e-mail please don't mention any of this because he's very sensitive about it and doesn't want me talking about it, sigh. I sigh a lot here.
Argh, Lui is in here with me and he keeps wanting me to hold him, but I can't type and hold him at the same time. Then he drools. He's a drooler, if he's happy he drools. Beau hates this, I try to play it down by calling it cat water. "It's just cat water Beau," as if it were some kind of light cat cologne.
I'm watching a disturbing show on Bravo about child performers and their parents, yeesh. Beau was soooo cute when he was little, we had people telling us all the time that he should get into acting. My agent had started in the business as a children's agent and she would have taken him but he wasn't interested and I didn't want to push him. I wanted him to have a more normal life. Now he's kind of interested but he doesn't have the discipline or the tough skin it takes to survive. Plus he's huge and he's overweight so I don't know. I mean I can't even get it together to get my own butt out there again let alone manage the both of us. I just don't see him being disciplined enough to make it, but I could be wrong. You know any time I've ever believed any rule about this business I've been wrong and seen someone succeed by breaking it.
Okay that's it, Lui, perhaps fed up with my lack of cuddle attention, and wanting to mark his territory, walked over to my stuffed pink rubber faced sleepy doll and peed on her. He is so out of here, (out of my room, not out of the house).
Oh man my gum above my tooth is hurting again. Maybe I should take another pain pill. I just don't want to keep taking these things, they space me out and Lord knows what they're doing to my liver. I went to see the dentist today and he lanced the abscess -- sorry to be too gross or graphic. It wasn't that painful, (although it's definitely painful now, probably because I keep swishing warm salt water, hydrogen peroxide and putting hot packs on it), and it was a huge relief to have a doctor look at it and take charge of the whole situation. It surprised me how calm I was about this when I've been so panicky and dental phobic in the past -- that's how I got into all of this tooth trouble in the first place -- by avoiding the dentist, stupid me, seriously.
I'm so sorry I've let myself down so badly when it comes to my teeth. It reminds me of that scene in that play that was later turned into a movie with Meg Ryan and Alec Baldwin where Meg's character switches places with an old man on her wedding day. The one piece of advice, this sage advice, that this sad, lonely, elderly man has to share, with this young couple, after all his years of living is simply, "Floss your teeth."
Oh, I've been dreading writing this -- that's why I saved it 'till the last -- I had to put Pinky, my sweet, shy, naked pink rat companion, to sleep today. He spent the weekend on oxygen at the animal emergency hospital, and even though they assured me, after looking at his X-rays, that they felt certain it would be worth the SIX F%^$ING HUNDRED dollars it cost to treat him, when they took him out of the oxygen box to transfer him to the regular vet, he was so oxygen deprived he started doing really weird neurological things like twitching and jumping around in his cage. It was awful and it was obvious that we had really done all we could. Anything more would just be for my sake and perpetuating his suffering.
I'm not as sad as I usually am when one of my pals dies because I've had plenty of time to prepare for this. I'm going to miss him so much -- miss kissing him, giving him treats, letting him sit on my shoulder, but it wasn't as brutal as losing Sparkle. I'm still really raw from that, raw and shocked and in denial.
These decisions are always lose/lose and so hard to make. In hindsight you can look back and think you should have put your pet to sleep a long time ago, or at least done it three days before you threw another six hundred dollars, that you don't have, onto the fire. But when you're in the thick of it, you just keep hoping and hoping that you can save your friend, and if you don't do everything you can to help him, then you're abandoning this innocent, precious living being who is totally dependent on you. And what other option do you have, to kill him? How do people make these hard decisions without suffering doubts afterwards? I need to be certain I'm not that person who kills their pets for selfish reasons or for financial ones. The only way I can deal with these situations and feel good about myself afterwards is to ride the sad death train to it's inexorable end, to know I didn't get off a few stops too soon.
I think this is why I have to cut my pet population waaaaay, waaaaay back, because this kind of thinking is going to sink us. I think I need to remember that this is how things will end up whenever I find myself in a pet store looking at a rat, or a bird, or a fish, or whatever creature reaches out and touches our hearts. I need to think, that cute little helpless baby whatever, equals heartbreak, or more shit and piss on our disintegrating wooden floors, or weeks and months spent giving this pet medications and worrying about her, or just more work and more of a drain on my already seriously limited energy and attention stores.
I need to remember that while I tend to be an even more extreme version of Sharon Osbourne when it comes to animals, I just don't have the kind of money and support it takes to live like she does. I can't keep buying new furniture and throwing out the old sofas or hiring crews of people to fix up the house when the pets run it down. I can't afford the food and the vet bills anymore. Or if I want to keep this up I am going to have to come up with some radical solutions and fast. Selling a few things on eBay isn't going to cut it, I need sitcom actor star money, like just one of any one of the Friend's paychecks and the residuals for just that one episode, or better yet I need reality television producer money. I need something. Help???
Ahhh damn it, it's three in the morning and even though I promised myself that I would go to bed early, not only to help heal the dental infection I have, but also so I would be able to get up and get everything done for Beau tomorrow, and here I am writing away.
Big friendly late night hugs,
PS: Little Oliver kitty (Ollie) is snoring and having a dream, his eyes and whiskers are twitching. Curly Girl is sleeping with her eyes partially open. Piggy is making little lip smacking sucking sounds. They're so cute I wish you could see them all sleeping like a great big blanket o' cat here on my bed.
I so wish I could read their minds or mind meld with them a la Spock from Star Trek. Oh that reminds me, I promised Beau I would buy him some credits for his character Ruck in Corbantis on Star Wars Galaxies.