Lo, this Amy Jo

A good friend is having a pituitary cyst removed Friday morning at 7:30. This amounts to brain surgery.

*praying*good thoughts*fingers crossed*hugging friends*etc.*

Who should play me in the movie

1. Helena Bonham-Carter
b. Natalie Portman
3. Beyonce
4. (insert name here)

No kidding!

This will shock you right out of your pants. I guarantee it. And by “guarantee” I mean “am not even remotely responsible for any actual manifestation of that sentence.”

I have decided to stop looking. For a guy. Right now. Yes I'm serious.

Who am I and what have I done with Cree? you ask. I do not blame you. Was she kidnapped by hobos? For this has all the markings of a hobo plot, you say.

I do not believe so, I reply. I cannot bring myself to believe that the hobos would be so insidious. And also I have not seen any around.

Primarily I have realized that I am evolving into the person I have always wanted to be (after 1. Hedda Gabler, 2. Tom Brokaw and 3. Steve), and I really want to just enjoy this Cree and her Amazing Dancing Bears of Life right now. Can you believe it? Seriously? But I am so happy! While I've spent the past year in a state of anxiousness about finding someone NOW, FINALLY, I realize it wasn't sitting just right.

It could be said that a soap dish brought home the epiphany (and not hobos, for they eschew soap, except at their thrice-a-year hootenannies)(unless it was the OTHER kind of hobos). The other day I looked at the moldy soap dish in my bathroom and thought, I am so happy I don’t have to worry about cleaning that soap dish right now, after all. And that kind of stopped me right there. I’m happy I don’t have to worry about some guy seeing a soap dish? Huh. How 'bout that.

So, yes, some events of late have brought on this turnabout, and it feels amazing, like I’ve finally Arrived and Stopped. No more wishing, wanting, watching the turn of every corner. I am changing, evolving, becoming; I believe I am done unfolding, and am now basking (or basketing) in the light of the warm sun. THIS is right. I have reached what is right. I am All I Want To Be and More, and it’s time right now to let that grow, to enjoy this person I have become.

This time, I choose for real. The message from the gods is clear, but it's not like I'm just giving in to them. I have reached the decision on my own, which is the way you always have to do it. I have other things to do. So many other things to do! My life is full and brimming and bright and new, and I am full of gratitude and ready to live it without the anxiousocity of wishing, wanting, looking for More. I feel like I’m on the best part of my favorite roller coaster. Bring me the boys you want me to meet, that’s fine; they can see how great I am and then wait. Now I feel no pressure. And I also feel like I am actually, finally part of the world, not just skirting its edges watching everyone else live for real. That is huge.

Here I am, world. I am 100% me. I am one sweet hot ticket. You can look, but you can’t touch.


Here’s a fun allegory for the past 6 months:

Cree goes up to the window of the prep kitchen where everyone else she knows has gotten their Amazing Wonderful Meal to Last a Lifetime (They Hope). She says, I’m ready for dinner, please. The kitchen gods say No.

What do you mean, “No”?

Uh-uh.

Um, guys? Little help here? I'm hungry.

Nope.

Everyone else has theirs!

NO!

COME ON! I know it's time!

OK, FINE. *shove plate into pass-through.* Here.

WOO --Wait. (Looks at plate of olives and dressing.) I love olives, but this ain’t enough. And I'm lactose intolerant. I can't eat bleu cheese. You know that.

*silence. Others around get their dinner. Cree taps foot.*

Guys, come on, seriously. I’m sick of waiting. I’ve had it. (Watches others come and go still.)

Come back later. Yours isn’t ready yet.

But why? Why does everyone else get theirs?

Gods shut the window.

Cree pounds on it. Hey! What do I have to do here?! I’M READY!!

Window bangs open. You’re so sure you know better? ENJOY. (Put out another plate.)

(Cree looks at it.) But this is just a pile of field greens. Which I also love, but—

There’s a tomato in there too.

You think you're funny, don't you.

Kitchen is closed for the night. Bye-bye, Cree. Take a number next time. (Window shuts again)

Cree stares at her plate and sets it back on the window ledge, tired.

Then she remembers a bunch of things she’s been wanting to do and goes to call Blake.

So I’m not giving up, like I did in Orlando. I’m not resigned. It’s not just signs, and it’s not compromise. It’s a choice, and it’s just really, really good. A lesson learned is one thing; your own personal realization and arrival is something else.

I'm at the jubilee, and I am singing.

(Special note to readers: CH and CR, you two are my guiding stars. When the day comes, I hope he is just like you. Or darned close.)

Were you aware

Colin Powell's middle name is Luther.

For some kitty bday fun

Chez le Chat Noir

REMINDER

Four kittens turn 6 tomorrow.

I am very very tired.

That is all.

Jiminy Crickets and Hobbits' Kazoos!

Saturday the kittens turn 6, y'all! They likes the little fake mice and balls that jingle, as well as Kitty Kaviar and dried whiting. Checks may be made out to Cash.

Episcopagatarian

That's me!

Conepatus mesoleucu

I had me a close encounter the other night.

First a little story from my teenagehood. In the family-room-type room at my parents' house, there's a door to the outside. These days there's a chair in front of it, but we used to have it open during the summer all the time, and we also used to have me up into the wee hours of the night when I was home from college, watching Letterman and MTV and what have you.

One night when I was down there by myself, around midnight, I heard someone say my name. I FLEW through the living room and up the stairs, my arms waving in the air over my head. Turns out it was my best friend, Ellen, and her friend Ben. My Dad nearly shot them, GOOD TIMES!, but in the end, we had a good ... no, no, only Ben laughed that night. Ellen apologized, and I tried to reattach my head to my body.

And now, back to modern times.

I like to sit by the open French doors -- sorry, Freedom doors -- in the dark sometimes doing a little yoga. Sometimes I go outside to do it. This night, I stayed inside.

I finished my yoga and was happily reclining in relaxation pose. I swear to all the gods, my gut told me to reach over with my right foot and shut the door. Well, no thank you, Gut, I'd like to sit up and look out at the night for a few minutes, says I. Why should I shut the door?

I sat up and looked out at the night.

I noticed this small white shape moving across the grass. It didn't fit the visual recognition pattern of any animal I could think of. Really, the closest I could come was an angelfish, its size and the way it was moving very gently and fluidly. It nuzzled its nuzzler through the grass, sniffing out who knows what. I was a little freaked out, seeing this thing out there that I coudn't identify. Badger? I wondered. But that wasn't it.

Then I had it, and I froze.

Skunk.

He was just beyond the concrete patio, so only about 8-10 feet away, and close enough, I was certain, to douse me if he got scared.

I still had a wee bit of doubt, since he had such a broad swath of white across his back and tail -- no stripes at all. Finally he waddled past the wall separating my yard area from my neighbor Stephen's, and out of sight. I breathed a sigh of relief and started to move.

Then he came back.

Not only did he come back, but he gradually made his way RIGHT UP TO THE DAMNED DOOR. "Dude, can't you SMELL ME??" I yelled silently. Isn't that a HALLMARK of A NOCTURNAL ANIMAL? Regardless, up to the door he came -- it's screen top to bottom, no metal paneling -- sniffing, I'm guessing, a chipmunk footpath, one or two feet from me. And then he lifted his tail.

I slammed the door shut, and he was off like a shot. If he'd had arms, they would have been waving over his head as he flew.

This is my new little terrified friend:











from http://www.lioncrusher.com/animal.asp?animal=213

and this is what I saw moving through the yard.





I felt really bad for scaring the cute little bugger, but just imagine if he had sprayed into the apartment. GLARGH. He would have gotten me, the bookcase, the carpet, the couch ... Otherwise, he was adorable! Good snuffling to you out there, little munkyskunk.

And then the monkey stole the glasses from off my head

Monkey strong bowels
Fuzzy Fuzzy Fuzzy D
Fancypants. Donkey.

<<<dave>>>