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Posts Tagged ‘cat’

In all seriousness, I have a ton going on. Being a mom is time consuming. Working full time is time consuming. Yet, I’d like to try to combine the Minimalists game again this year with NaBloPoMo.

So we’ll see how that goes. I’m not going to get angry if I can’t do every day getting rid of things, at least at first. I have a lot going on, from transitioning out of an old job into transitioning into a new.

But, rather than try to write a novel, which I know is out of reach in my current mindset, I’ll do this instead.

So, #minimalists #1: Goodbye, worry.

Let’s just do this instead.

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I have another big project I’ve been working on, and I was running into me hitting boxes all the time. If I was getting packages, I’d keep a box. I cleared out a bunch a few months ago, but now I had a lot again. Today I broke down 7 boxes and took them down to recycling, to free up more stuff.

The cats weren’t too happy. I would have had a couple more, but they decided to sit in them instead.. hence, cat traps.

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I’m in the process of moving to a city that’s roughly 50 miles away for next semester. I’ll have a much smaller area, and therefore can’t bring/pack everything I’ve grown accustomed to having.

So I am forcing myself to finally start going through the mountains of containers and boxes I have in a storage area here. I have been finding a lot of random things, but the most exciting is a book I was given in 2002. It’s dark green, with the lyrics of a song that I absolutely adore, from someone in my life that still is a major influence (whether he knows it or not).

The cover has autographs of a lot of musicians that I have worked with and whose music has influenced me over the years. I have all 4 members of Vertical Horizon, Angie Aparo, Barry from Carbon Leaf, and Andy from VaCo (with an original saying <3). I have a space on the top of the cover of the book where eventually, hopefully, I will get Dave Matthews or Glen Hansard to sign it. Keep dreaming, I know….

But a long time ago I started writing poetry (as in, 1990 – I was published in 1992 the first time I believe) and I've kept track of a lot of the random poetry I used to scribble here and there in this book.

Then I misplaced it for YEARS. years. So I have poetry scattered half a mile across creation. Every time I open a box with papers I am COMPELLED to check every one of them to make sure I'm not throwing away half a novella I started when I was bored in class. I do find bits and pieces here and there.. originally I was going to keep them all in this book, then I lost the book. Now I found it again. I don’t have much of an excuse anymore, do I?

This is what takes me so long to go through storage and pack. I have a lot of memories, and a lot more written words than I'll ever admit. (at minimum 750 poems just from 2000-2005 alone, not to mention my completed play and the 2 novels I'm working on…)

So I'm constantly on a hunt to try to gather the bits and pieces together and solidify them into the myriads of journals I have lying about.

I should do this more often, but I don’t; I’ll post an original poem that, while I know and remember the particular situation, a lot of it still seems to ring true even almost 10 years later. It’s quite interesting to me to see how something I wrote then applies oh so well to now too.

“Departure”

Last few moments
before I lift away
back to everything familiar

yet not as familiar as
your scent as you
hold me close to your beating heart

I know what I have to do
and that’s let go and walk
on, turning the page

and starting another chapter
in the sketchbook of my life.
So I look in your eyes

one last time, squeeze your hand
and run away silently
turning around for one

last fleeting glimpse I find
you’ve run silently on
swiveling around

not opening my mouth lest
I start bawling.
No goodbyes said

though the chapter may be
done, there is no
“the end”.

~29.4.02

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I love cats. Any size, any shape. One of my favorite animals. I always thought I’d want to pet a tiger or a lion when I was little. I then realized as I grew up that not only is that fairly IMPOSSIBLE, it’d end very very badly.

But as for pets, I really love cats. I have 5 – I had 6, but Truman passed last year. All mine are rescues, some are semi-feral, some are abused, but I love them all the same.

I am a fan of them in any size, there are so many different kinds of cats, but all seem to be so graceful and amazing to watch. Just the way their bodies are made, the way they work.

So: I’m a fan of cats in any size.

Purr.

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I wrote two posts for the3six5, and could only submit one. This is the one that wasn’t submitted. 🙂

~

I’ve always found waking up in someone else’s bed is a unique experience. Of course, that’s one of many things I don’t actually own. The bed is my parents’, one of the spare ones in my room-spare room-turned my room again. I also don’t own a TV.

It’s odd thinking of the things I actually do own. More makeup and bath things than a girl needs. Five cats, though I still maintain they own me more than I own them. Enough books – no, never enough books – but enough books to start a mini library. Approximately 10000 hours of live recordings, most that have never been listened to, and many the only copy of.

On the flip side, some of my greatest passions aren’t represented by things. Despite my great love for the game of futebol/soccer, I own but two jerseys. I own possibly 3 or 4 books with Portuguese words and phrases, despite me spending the last few months trying to add words to my everyday vocabulary. I don’t own a lot of actual poetry books when it comes down to it (excluding the 8 copies of one certain book).

I live in Kansas. We have no basement, just a crawlspace we stock with Girl Scout Cookies, extra cat food, water, and enough cage space to throw the fuzzies in if the sirens blow. All of this could be blown away in the blink of an eye. My storm bag is packed with as many of my poetry notebooks that I can fit, my favorite copy of Leaves of Grass, and room enough for hard drives and laptops. Most of these things are just that – things that can be replaced. Maybe. Some of them can’t.

But every morning, I wake up, roll over and check the weather on my Kaylee. (Yes, I named my phone). Will this just be a normal spring day in Tornado Alley, watching the clouds and radar intermittently, and going about our day? Or will it be a day that changes my life in some unforeseen way?

Only time and Mother Nature can tell; we always have to be vigilant, lest she smack us when we least expect it.

Hello, sky.

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one might watch TV. Like I’m doing now.

Repeats of Iron Chef Japan. Possibly one of my favorite shows ever.

I don’t think I would be able to eat 95% of what they make… but I’ve learned to emulate many techniques of cooking of theirs. And learned SO many terms it’s disgusting.

And I may or may not have run around one night singing “momo momo momo momo” after a bit too much of a Peach Daiquiri. (Momo = peach. It’s really fun to say. Try it. Mo-mo.)

Tonight is a tuna match, wondering why my cats aren’t looking. Probably because we don’t have scratch and sniff TV.

Oh wait, one’s hiding under the table. And watching the TV.

I’m tired, probably overtired. I leave for Vegas in less than 3 days. But I know that if I tried to lie down, I wouldn’t be able to sleep and would probably have more flipping panic attacks over and over again, and I don’t want those.

SO instead I will sit up and watch Iron Chef and just babble a bit here.

Tomorrow (well, today, when this gets published) is Thanksgiving. Two years ago I was working on Thanksgiving. In a grocery store bakery.

Last year at this time, I was in Yucca Valley, CA with my boyfriend and family. I heard coyotes singing, I saw them outside the window and realized that yeah.. I wasn’t walking outside at night out there.

Now, I’m not really a “foodie.” I love food. I love to eat. However, I have SO many different allergies to different foods (apple, pork, lamb, caramel color) so I’ve learned just to read every single label.

But man.. the one thing I think I could make every month and eat every month – TURKEY. deep fried. baked. sliced. DO. NOT. CARE.

I’ve always loved Turkey, but oh man, the one that’s in my fridge right now is going to look soooooo good on my plate tomorrow. I really should have just not eaten today to be more hungry tomorrow. :3

Thanksgiving with my Dad’s side of the family is here tomorrow. We have traditional type things…

but turkey. I could sit down with a giant sheet sized napkin, the roaster, and a carcass for HOURS. picking every single lovely piece of meat I can find out of it.

unf. Just so hungry THINKING about the food tomorrow… mm. food.

Probably a good thing I’m watching Iron Chef now.

And I’ll have visions of dancing turkeys tonight in my dreams.

Happy thanksgiving American friends. 🙂

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