Christmas Thunderstorms.

generic-lightning-shotjpg-1cd4e2947aad4cf1 We are having a big loud thunderstorm. Like in July. But at Christmas.

I am liking it. Because its odd and out of place and those sorts things make me smile.

I certainly won’t complain about a warm winter. Especially after having such a mild summer. I fully expected to pay for such a pleasant summer with a non-stop blizzard starting mid November and ending about Easter.

But sometimes the universe gives you Chaos and Kittens (or Thunderstorms) instead of Chaos and Death (or Blizzards). So here’s the kittens and thunderstorms at Christmas.

Lily and the Pill…

So in the continuing and utterly fascinating story of me giving a pill to Lily everyday…

Score to date:

Day 1. Sara Wins.

Day 2. Lily Wins.

Day 3. Sara Wins.

Day 4. Tie. – It looked for a moment like I was starting a win streak because the pill was swallowed with very little fuss or bother. And then puked up within a minute. Along with all the food she had eaten earlier – so its a Lose Lose scenario, not a Win Win.

Still. I’m encouraged by the fact that she isn’t fighting it as much. So we will see. I haven’t tried the pill plunger I bought because its just too big. I’m thinking about getting it compounded if this continues to be a problem.

So that’s the update on the ongoing Lily vs the Pill story.

Lily and I wrestle and Lily wins.

I’ve been trying to give Lily some Pepcid AC to help her with her nausea. Lily does NOT wish to take the tiniest sliver of a pill. Yesterday I won and she ate a quite decent amount. I was very chuffed.

Today, Lily won. She’s not a rude winner though. She’s quite sportsmanlike. She came over after I gave up and cuddled up next to me. Although, to be honest, she does have a bit of a smug look to her.

I’m going to have buy a syringe to feed it to her. I HATE the syringe. I once had to force feed a cat for a week. It is not a happy memory and although it saved the cat’s life, she did not appear the slightest bit grateful for the procedure. I think we were both scarred by it.

I hate any of these sorts of things, where I am doing something the animal very much does not want to happen and is afraid of. They do not understand why. And that is what bothers me. They can only experience it as terror without any reason. They think I am suddenly being cruel. I hate it. It feels like I am torturing them because they don’t know its for their own good.

So. anyway. I need to go out and buy a syringe. lily

“…when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure.”~Jane Austen

I wonder if there is anything more devastating to the human soul.

Well, perhaps I think that because it seems to describe my life.

I must stop the rekindling of the masochistic pain I inflict on myself by re-living a wound from 3 years ago.

Its so very pointless and harming me more than original wound ever did. And the original wound was big, as pain inflicted by family members so often is. We are fragile where we feel most secure.

I must move beyond this.

Farts, Vibrators and Careers

face There are a large number of utterly silly things that my brain has shoved into the SHAME folder.

I recognize that its silly. I even recognize that pulling the stuff out of the folder and introducing them to the public at large would eventually eliminate the SHAME folder all together.

But SHAME is something of a habit. A process of expectations about what will happen if these things are mentioned and so…

The first of the Silly Shame files is Farts.
I fart. I would love to meet people and start the conversation by saying, “Hi, I’m Sara and I fart. Sometimes I fart unexpectedly and uncontrollably and at conspicuously odd moments. I feel I should just mention that up front.” Put it on top of the rug with the coffee table rather than sweep it under with the dust bunnies.

As things currently stand, I fart and then don’t mention it. Obviously everyone heard it. No one says anything because I didn’t. And then it just there. The gaseous elephant in the room.

The second of the Silly Shame Files is Vibrators.
I masturbate. So does everyone else. My vibrator died last week and I’m wondering where do other people go to buy a good vibrator in town? Is the place I go really not up to par? Is it the only place? Do other people have a preference of type? This should be discussed as often as shoes and good wine. There are so many facets to it. What if I’m not considering them all?

I mean I suppose I could google it, but then I would have to remember to erase the internet history and we are back at the SHAME folder again. Because no one should discuss this… I guess.

The third of the Silly Shame Files is I used to have a damn good career. I know,whose ashamed of that, right? Well, its more nuanced than that. Because if people know I used to have a damn fine career, making good money, heading to the corner office with actual door and officer parking. They will want to know why I’m now working a low paying job with no benefit and no future. And there it is – SHAME.

I have failed. I’m failing. I’m a mess. Actually the ‘I’m a mess’ part sums up the shame I would like to introduce and drag its kicking and screaming ass out into the light.

So I really think its best if I don’t go to any parties soon. I may well introduce myself as a flatulent masturbater who used to have a future but pissed it away and is now mostly interested in blogging and where to get her next vibrator.

Cross me off the guest list. Its best for everyone. `

In which I Buy Noise on the Internet.

I live on a corner of a busy street. A corner with a traffic light. There is a bus stop at this corner.

Its noisy.

I don’t sleep well in the best circumstances but street noise is not helpful, so I tend to run the air conditioner fan even when its cool out. But eventually that becomes impossible so I run fans. But fans don’t produce sufficient white noise to cover the street sounds.

So tonight I’m going to try a white noise generator off the internet. We live in a strange era, don’t we?

I’m buying noise to cover up noise. I’m paying for noise. Only 99 cents, but its the idea of it is odd.

But if I don’t buy this, I won’t sleep well and my day will go off the rails because my brain will start to act in wrong ways.

So. I’m buying noise on the internet.

My life is weird.

Grilling out at Christmas

preparing_grill_for_grilling_grill_with_flames_and_cones Tonight, as I walked from my car to the door of the apartment, all I could smell was barbecue. My next door neighbor was grilling out. Beef. Over charcoal. That is a smell that will always make me smile.

And more so because its December and 45F degrees out. It filled the air and welcomed me.

Because that is what that smell is for me. Welcome. Its home. Its connectivity of family.

When I was a child my mother prepped all the food and I my father grilled it. It was a very cooperative effort. And then we all ate together.

As a teenager, I connect it to large family gatherings with lots of food and laughter and card games and being together.

As an adult I just savor the nostalgic feel of welcome and home it gives me.

My neighbor is a serious barbecuer. He doesn’t let weather stop him. In fact he lights up an old hibachi on cold weekends and they sit around it like its a camp fire, just chatting.

I like him. I’ve never met him but I like him because he welcomes me home with the smell of his barbecue.

In which my job is probably going to screw me.

youre-kidding-right-lc6vuw My job has never offered health insurance. In fact they have been very against Obamacare and paid the penalty rather than offer it.

So I have signed up through the Market Place. I re-upped last night through the Marketplace because Tomorrow is the deadline.

Today my boss came up and asked me if I had health coverage. Actually the way he said it, it sounded more like “you don’t need coverage, right?” He seemed to think I qualified for Medicare, I suppose because of my disability. After some back and forth, it became clear that he is going to offer a bare bones coverage through the office.

I asked for a brochure. He didn’t have one, he is having the people come out some time this week. He said I could hear what they have to say and see if it would be better. OK. Sounds reasonable.

TOMORROW IS THE FUCKING DEADLINE for the Marketplace, so why he put this off so fucking long… But OK, I guess.

So, I signed up to hear what they have to say. Tonight I googled and found out that I will have to sign up for it. Because I will lose the premium tax credit if I choose Market Place instead of employer insurance. Which triples the premium for the Market Place insurance.

And he has already alluded to the fact that this health insurance the company offers is whatever the minimum required by law is.

This is a big deal for me because I have just fucking gotten myself on the path to taking care of myself. I’m now on 3 prescriptions. I’m going have to have doctor follow ups 3-4x a year. And I won’t make enough money to cover a lot of it if the insurance doesn’t come through.

On the other hand, what he is offering is supposed to be cheap. So, maybe the savings will make up for that.

I’m not in a good place for them to screw me because they hates Obama.

I really need to get a job with decent benefits. One that pays well and has a future path for advancement. I need to do this. That will be the goal for 2016.

In which I get angry at work

I went to work. We will count that as an achievement.

But then I went off on one of the drivers. It really wasn’t my place to do it, but on the other hand…

Apparently yesterday he told one of the women who works there about a Frisch’s in N*****ville. Not only is that just unacceptable with anyone, this particular woman is married to an African American and has 3 children by him.

This woman is so meek it would take a nuclear apocalypse to make her complain or respond in anger directly to the person. Although apparently she said something after he left. I wasn’t there and I snapped at him when I heard. His response – Well, that’s what they used to call it. Grinning like it was all a good joke.

So I continued to express how inappropriate and unnecessary it was. He refused to accept that and said he wasn’t politically correct. I suggested he replace the words politically correct with ‘show respect’.

He walked away saying he wasn’t going to sit and be lectured.

On the one hand, I never sit still and shut up when people raise racial slurs. But I also don’t take it as far or get as angry as I did tonight. I am not fond of this driver. He has on multiple occasions pissed me off. So that probably played into it.

But I feel like losing my temper is losing the moment. Its losing control of myself. And then he kind of wins. Because I got angry.

I’m getting angry too often these days. Its not who I want to be.

I have a neighbor who has embraced the Griswold Spirit.

zow0uxs I love Christmas Lights.

Where I used to live, on the gentrified side of town, most of the displays were blandly tasteful. Usually one color with a sort of understated ‘we participate’ theme. The trees are carefully wrapped with lights and they never BLINK. There is nothing so tacky as the blink. Many conform to an unstated standard. This standard seems to be largely based on the idea that you shouldn’t be Clark Grizwold.

They are pretty. But no one does a drive by.

Down the street from where I used to live there was a man who thought he was a Grizwold. But his anal obsessiveness probably held him back. All his lights were white. Of uniform size. And they were tacked to boards in PERFECT lines. No bauble of lights pointing up and down, no small sags in a line. These lights marched perfectly around the whole of his lawn and driveway, around each window and framed the edge of the roof. In ruler edge straightness.

Now I live on the other side of town. And there is a house down the street that nearly buckled under the Halloween decorations it put up. Clark Grizwold would have been jealous of this display. And when I saw it, I KNEW that Christmas was going to be a thing worth seeing.

And I was right. This household worships at the shrine of Grizwold. Nothing so easy as glowing blowup decorations. Nope. A full size manger scene. Camels & Magi in lights. There is even a multilayered light birthday cake for Jesus. And naturally all of the house is bedecked in large colored lights. I laughed with glee when I saw it. People drive by for this one. Its on a list somewhere of places to see Christmas Lights.

I do appreciate both kinds. The House Beautiful Lights and the Griswold Heros. But my heart will always be for the Griswold Hero.