I've been busy as usual. I'm STILL fighting whatever the heck this long lasting
flu/virus thing is that I caught from Beau, twice. My ears are killing me. But after two high fevered days my doctor finally relented and put me on antibiotics and I'm getting better, yeay. Beau is better as well, double yeay.
I have so much I'd like to share with you, but I just don't have the strength, so here are a
couple of kitty pictures instead.
This is Meow, our tiny little rescued floppy cat who along with his twin brother Mew couldn't eat or poop without my help, when I first brought them home, and they had the worst eye infections, poor little guys. Well, they're fine now, it turns out they're not so floppy after all, and they're HUGE. Huge like small dogs. I love that they're so big. They could be as big as a car and I would only love them more. With cats teeny is good and bigger is better. I'd like a cat the size of a panther, although it'd probably be hell on my skin since they're always tearing me up when they chase each other around the house. I just looked up and noticed they're both sitting here next to me on the bed, my darling fluff boys, just touching them makes me feel this burst of joy. Sometimes I'll fall asleep with one hand resting on them, or they'll fall asleep with a paw draped over me, and all seems right with the world.
Oh, I do want to say that I have managed to stay on my Nutrisystem plan for a few weeks now, and a week ago I had lost five and a half pounds. I think I'll weigh myself tomorrow. It depends if I either go to Mom's house to deal with bills, blech, or get my scale working again. It hasn't been that hard to do, surprisingly. It's just getting myself to start something that's hard. The weird thing is that I feel as if I'm eating more than I used to. I'm just eating healthier and more often. Although I don't know how healthy anything that comes in a box, lasts for months, and doesn't need to be refrigerated can be. The healthy part is the food you add to the plan like the fruit and vegetables. I was feeling so defeated and depressed because I had gained back more than a third of the weight I lost after having my weight loss surgery that I had to do something to put things in reverse and get the scale moving in the other direction. Talk about feeling really crappy, remember all of those people who didn't recognize me when I took the weight off, well, same thing when I started putting it back on. I'd started regretting having cleaned out my closet of all of my fat clothes. Anyway, now I just want to get back to where I was before. The I Still Need to Lose More Weight But Look Okay on the Video Monitor In Line At the Bank weight. Wish me luck?
I have been wanting to take some of our black kitties outside to snap a few shots of them against all of the Halloween decorations but I never seem to have the camera, a cat, and the time to do this when the light is right. But yesterday Niki made a run for it, (We live in a big crazy city with lots of traffic and to make matters worse for cats we have coyotes here so our cats don't get to play outside unsupervised), so I let him roam around and took a few pictures of him.
Beau and my friend Phil (He's eighteen; we've been friends for about three years now, I think, ever since we met at Playa Info at Burning Man and I brought him home to Kidsville to meet Beau and hang out with some of the other kids), came down to stay with us for a few days. He's such a sweetheart. but let's just say that at his age there's a wee bit o' weed smoking going on, and uptight, overly concerned, ex-pot-smoking, (We're talking college here), parent that I am, I'm worried that Beau is going to turn into a serious stoner, lose all his motivation for living, and end up spending his days in a haze of pot smoke.
No offense but I speak from experience when I tell you just how socially retarded and selfish a person can become when they spend their life "partying" and never have to develop the kinds of skills you need to go out there and grab your dreams. It's easier to sit at home and delude yourself than it is to risk discomfort and rejection, especially when you have this seductive substance luring you into lazy complacency. There, now I've offended everyone who does smoke, because they'll think I'm being too harsh and judgmental, and I've worried everyone who doesn't because they're probably hard liners who can't believe I'd do anything other than threaten to toss his butt out on the street if he so much as looks at a pipe.
Anyway I'm pretty sure Beau will find his way through this because we have a super open relationship, we talk through everything, and since it is ever present in his school and social community, I don't see that I have much choice but to trust that he'll either reject it or find some way to work a small amount of recreational weekend party smoking into his life. I just don't know if with the challenges he already has that this is going to be feasible for him. I don't want to be the hard core, "Just Say No," parent who he has to hide and keep secrets from. On the other hand I'm not going to be buying it for him and giving him expensive bongs for Christmas like a few other parents I know.
If I could make pot smoking and drinking disappear I would, but I can't, it's out there, the kids are all ready to experiment and they're going to do it with or without my permission. I've said everything I can to Beau about why I don't think it's going to be something that he can manage while trying to keep up his grades and get into college, and he's going to have to make his own choices. I do know that I don't want him driving around in cars getting high, or going to other kids houses, or the beach and the promenade to get high, like so many of the kids in his school do. I do know that I would rather he smoke an occasional joint than start smoking tobacco. For some reason, on that topic, I'm able to draw a much firmer line. I've told him that I don't care if he's moved out, has a wife and kids, and is thirty-five, if I find out he's smoking I will come over, rip apart his house and throw away all of his cigarettes. I didn't spend sixteen years teaching him how to survive just to watch him end up with lung cancer. I've lost too many friends to this, seen too many people suffer, including my own mother, and I'm not letting Beau go there. With the other stuff, I guess we're just going to have to feel our way.
Wow, I didn't mean to go off on this tangent, I just wanted to toss up a couple of cute cat pictures and run, sorry. The reason I started writing about this was to tell you a funny story; We're slooooowly disassembling our Halloween yard, at first I just wanted the kids to be able to enjoy it for a little while longer, since we didn't finish decorating until the actual day of Halloween. Then I wanted to leave it so I could take a couple of black cat Halloween pictures for next year. then I remembered my orange haired Blythe Dolly and how I had planned on getting a few shots of her with all the orange and black Halloweenishness, but we can't find her. She's hiding somewhere and until she comes out I'm stuck.
Meanwhile "some" of the neighbors have begun to whine to our gardeners about the hay remaining on the sidewalk in front of our house, so we swept all of that away and left all the rest of the decorations up. Some people (and by this I mean grumpy old folks with sour expressions on their faces) don't have anything better to do than complain about anyone who colors outside the lines, and has a little bit of fun, whateverrrr, so little by little it's coming down. Someone stole the Michael Meyers mask off of the little mannequin that is standing by the entrance to our garden. Then unbeknownst to me Phil and Beau poached all of the black lights and fog machines and took them up to Beau's room. And here's where it gets funny; Beau and Phil know how confused and uptight this formally wild and willing to try or do almost anything for a laugh, parent is, so just to mess with me, they juiced up the fog machines, turned them on high, filled Beau's room with fog and waited for me to come stumbling in and think I'd walked into Fast Times at Ridgemont High. When Phil opened the door all I could see was Phil outlined by what looked like a billowing puffy white haze of pot smoke. It never occurred to me that it was fog machines, and I was so disoriented and thrown off that it took me a second before I figured it out. I just stood there blinking and then everyone had a good laugh on poor old worried Mom. How did I go from being the girl who made such dangerous, stupid, risky decisions with her life, the girl who literally outran the cops because she was afraid of getting a ticket and making Daddy mad, the girl who took her clothes off and flashed passing motorists, to this?
I guess there's just no such thing as a short entry from me. Oh well.
So here's my beloved Niki who ran outside and had to endure a modeling session with me because he looked so pretty with his rainbow collar. For anyone who hasn't met him yet, he's a Cornish Rex, and I worhsip him. I also know that he looks weird to anyone unfamiliar with his breed and is unaccustomed to his unusual look. For all I know he might be the byproduct of an alien feline interspecies crossbreeding. Personally I think he's the hottest looking cat on the planet, but that's just me.
Phew, that was a lot of writing for my poor weary hands. I have got to get some sleep.
Oh shoot, wait, I just remembered something else. Remember my accident guy, the one who I believe caused my big bad car accident who I thought was suing me for one hundred thousand dollars? Turns out I read the paperwork wrong. It's not one-hundred-thousand dollars at all, it's a mere two-million-two-hundred-and-fifty-thousa
Okay, that's enough for now, poor Genie Francis is frozen in time on my DVR and I'd like to hear what she has to say about Luke and Laura. God, Luke and Laura, I was watching them in EIGHTH GRADE whenever I could stay home from school, (This was before the invention of the VCR), and I'm sure I'm way older than most of you. And what ever happened with that whole rape story line, how did they get over that? And how come Luke gets to look the same all these many years later while Laura looks like, well, like a woman who has gained some weight and added a few years? Hey, I'm not complaining, I'm thrilled when any actress over forty gets work, and I'm especially thrilled if she's overweight, or less than perfect in the glam department. I'm just saying I don't get how and why men and women age so differently. It feels unfair somehow.
PS: Frankie Munoz has a pet rat? I think I'll have to start liking him.