August 26th, 2013

2013, cyd, new

feeling better now

after a pep talk from a good friend and an evening of perusing, i am feeling much better.

rat is doing well. she's asleep right now. she actually bit me today. didn't break the skin, but had enough energy to chomp down. good girl. another of her legs is working. we toyed with the option of splinting her other legs, but decided against it because she is so small and we don't know what we're doing on something that small. so she's limping around. she still has to be picked up to drink water, but we gave her some lettuce so she will also get water out of that.

injured bird died. i don't know why. i'll bury it tomorrow. i've decided to create an animal cemetery out by the rose bushes. that way their bodies will nourish the plants. and it's a nice place. i'll clean out the leaves and prune the rose bushes tomorrow when i bury the bird.

then i have to work on the garage. i am in search of one of the two USB to fire wire connectors. i need one for my mp3 player. it's time to change the songs. and i have songs on it that i don't have on my computer. i want them on my playlist. things like Cutting Crew's "Died in Your Arms". old 80s stuff that got impossible to find once limewire went down. pirate bay is good for discographies. i've gotten a bunch. but finding rare 80s stuff and single songs is impossible. there's no need to torrent a single song.

also, if i clean out the garage, doc will let me paint the outdoor furniture before winter hits and does more damage to the wood. it's time it got cleaned out anyway. we've been here a year. i can set up boxes of stuff to donate. the last time i cleaned out the garage, i had the big door open with the recycling, trash and donate containers set up. it was easy and fast. now it's just a matter of looking through a few boxes and putting them where they belong. doc hasn't used his big black shelf, so i'm going to use part of it.

i'm reading Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury" and it makes me feel stupid. i'm 73 pages into it and i am so confused. the time keeps jumping around. i don't like to feel stupid. i'm about to give up on it. but i keep hoping it will get . . . not better, but different. the notes say that it's written from three different perspectives and i think he just started with the most confounding.

doc tried to explain why we didn't go to storage today. i didn't get it. he said a lot of stuff, i didn't get most of it. the thing i honed in on was that he has to make sure he's paid up before we go. the rest of his words were just crap.

he says i don't talk enough. we fight over that more than anything. he says i am constantly vague. i think to myself he's just not clever enough to follow something that isn't spelled out for him. and most of his problem is that he wants to know more than i want to share. and he won't shut up until i do, and then we have to DEAL with that. it's all so much bullshit. i miss him having friends. something to distract him. that was one nice thing about psycho slut, she was a distraction. i had a lot of freedom when she was around. now i have to answer for everything.

enough. i don't want to talk about it anymore.

the dog dug his way out of the fence again today. we need one more stick. pity because i was really liking him coming out with me when i smoked. now he can only come out with his leash. and i have to take him on a morning walk. hopefully by the evening walk, the fence will be fixed again. i know the exercise is good for me, but i'm lazy. and i'm tired of this neighborhood. people want to talk and be friendly. and then i have to deal with that damn look that crosses their faces when they see my lack of teeth. the shade of judgment comes down. i hate that. i'd rather the dog stay home.

major is crying for me. but he's settled down on the love seat.

i'm not tired. i think i'll read some poetry and play with pinterest some more.
2013, cyd, new

today is a new day, thank dog

rat is dead. i can deal with that.

i started out the day by calling doc and wishing him a good morning.

then i watched some news, then i slept some more. then i got up an hour ago, in time to wait for doc to get home.

now doc is home. he and chewy are out QC-ing the repair job on the fence.
2013, cyd, new

My tweets

2013, cyd, new

i just want to share

i just wrote a poem about one of the things that has been bothering me. hoping it will purge the whole thing from my memory. i doubt it will ever see the light of day.

today we are teaching chewy not to lay on me all the fucking time. it is a hard lesson that he is in no mood to learn today. he went to escape this morning to find his route bricked up and the bricks buried so he couldn't dig out. that kind of put him in a bad mood for the day. but i can't have him getting out. he cornered the lady up the street again this morning and when i opened the door to get him, she was standing in the street yelling at him. can't have that.

now he's gone to cuddle up with a sleeping doc. good boy. he should sleep with doc instead of out here so i have cat time. they all get together for wet food, and then after, they all take turns coming up to get love from me. chewy, ever jealous, ruins this with his PRESENCE. it's kind of cute, but i have no patience for it tonight. i don't know why, i'm just short on patience.

hung up some art today. doc was right, it looks much less institutional in here now. and the one painting i hung near the lamp actually goes with the lamp. i keep looking at it and smiling.

what is up with the animals? major won't shut up, felix won't quit growling at nothing and the dog won't stop looking at me like i just beat him. okay, got felix let out. he can go growl at the mice and lizards. chewy's still looking at me with those accusing eyes, though. i wish he'd go back in with doc. and major finally found my pillow and binky and curled up with them. my binky is really nothing more than a satin tank top i fuzzle with my right hand when i suck my left thumb. binky's used to be small pieces of flannel with blanket satin around them. but the last one my mom made me wore out and i don't have a sewing machine that works. though i do have a sewing machine. and it shouldn't be too much to get it fixed, it just needs a tune up and lube. i've actually gotten it to work at times. enough to sew little projects. with a working sewing machine i would be an animal. i love sewing and i have a talent for it passed down from my mother.

so tomorrow it tuesday. i have to plan what i'm going to do in the evening. NCIS is only on for an hour. i'm gearing myself up for a change in september. USA, which is the channel that plays NCIS reruns all the time is changing their programming in the evenings. so i'm getting ready for less NCIS. i'm debating downloading them. i have seasons 8, 9 and 10 already. it's just a matter of whether i want the earlier seasons. i'm having the same hard time with Burn Notice. i have seasons 6 and 7 (so far). should i get the earlier ones, since i love that show so much? i think i should.

i'm all happy that you can pin videos on pinterest. i'm trying to make the page and the pins reflect me and the way i think. i don't pin recipes or wedding shite. i have a section of my poetry, and my cam pics from the earlier cam, and pictures i took and pictures of the anim . . . just go there and check it out. it's a visual tour through my mind, rather than the verbal diarrhea you get here. or the vague twitter spoutings you get on facebook.

"Stop Poking Me Lady" is officially out of print. with one copy sold in 7 years, to me. i have the only copy in existence. doc finally said the words to me that i'd been waiting to hear, hoping to hear. "your art isn't about making money, it's about you." which is the truth. people listen to my mp3s. and that makes me proud. i guess i'm just down on myself because of ego. this is what it's like to spend your whole life waiting to be discovered. and here's a secret, you get discovered a lot, it's just what people choose to do with you, or if they throw you away.

there's a library near here. i should go. not to check out any books, but to find potential publishers. there are guides that list all the publishers of poetry or fiction and the requirements of submission. these guides are way to expensive to get every year and with a genre like poetry where publishers go out of business all the time and the guide changes year to year drastically. publishing myself is not the answer to distribution. getting published will at least get me national distribution and potential discovery. i don't want to sell a lot of books, i just want to share.