Boomer was my "get over Evie" cat. I just wasn't dealing well. So I picked out a cat that looked nothing like any of our others. She's jumpy, she sees things no one else sees (I fully believe she hallucinates visually and audibly), she only likes me, and Chewbacca. She grooms him. He doesn't know what to do with that. He only wants attention from me and Doc. She sneaks onto my lap whenever she gets a chance. She looks me in the eyes. My other cats don't really do that. But she does. We will gaze into each other's eyes for several seconds at a time. I feel so in touch with her, her fears, her slow but steady adaptation to the environment here, the trauma she has survived in her past life.
So I sat here with my cat, communing and weeping and sloppily talking to her about her late sister. When I was done talking, she meowed at me. She usually does when I complete my soliloquies to her. And she has the sweetest, highest, yet softest meow. There's a video of her meowing at youtube's Circus Catimus channel, in fact. I love this cat so much. On one of the paintings I did this summer, there is a hidden Boomer paw print.
I found one of my Ana Voog CDs today. I'm afraid to play it because I'm afraid I won't like it anymore. My musical tastes have changed quite a bit since the early 00's. But I don't know if that is real change, or change brought about by listening to the same 500 songs for 10 years. That can get to a person. 2013 was the first year in ten that I added to my playlist anything less than 15 years old. Sorry, that's a lot of maths. I was trapped in the 80's. There, I said it.
What was I going to say?
Oh yeah, gossip. Evil Man has scrubbed his online presence (I'm curious to know how he did it), started up an Online Reputation Repair service website that I can't give you the link to because it is his damn name, and replaced the picture of him, his ancient father, and toddler son with a picture of him, his father, and an infant girl. WTF? He took down all of his fake credentials, which I kind of saw coming a month ago when last I checked in on him. Someone who had known him during the same time I did started posting questions on his wall about when exactly he went to Berkeley State and such calling out nonsense. When I saw that and read his posts about he and his girlfriend (notice he still isn't married, and he's got two kids with two different mothers that we know of now) being stalked online, I decided to stay far away until I had gotten myself a VPN, just in case he had skillz to back up his "hacking" (DRINK) claims. Now there is this REALLY rudimentary website up with a stock photo, vagueness and no contact info for potential customers. It's a complete dummy site. He has one link out from it, to his "in house designer" who did some unknown, non-descript logos in the 90's and a bunch of nude Picasso-esque paintings in the time since. Her site is so L33T that you can barely read the pale blue type on the glaring white background. It is unimpressive. The most unimpressive thing about the whole situation is that neither site is a Wordpress site. You would think a man with skillz would see the value in doing his business site in Wordpress. And even I now see the benefit of artists using Wordpress. But no. Basic of basic HTML. I didn't check the source, but I can pretty much promise that there was no CSS or PHP or any other bells and whistles going on, either. The only worry I have is that with the timing of my appearance on his linkedin profile, and the stalker, he will think the two are connected. And I Googled myself. On page 3 the connection between Cydniey and my birth name is made. Facebook fucked me. And the whole "online reputation repair" thing just makes me laugh. I totally see him as a Brian Glicklich (Limbaugh's PR guy and online reputation guy, he trolls and doxes for $900 an hour) bully boy seeing conspiracies everywhere and lying through his teeth to his clients to keep the money coming in while still feeding on the weak in a supposed hunt for "victimizers" of his clients. Just wait until Peeple comes out, bud, you'll have your hands full.
So, there's the gossip. Oh, no, one more. The guy who used to stalk me, when I first got together with Doc, and had a lot to do with my deciding to be a web cam gurl, finally got a Facebook account. He looks the same. He will always look the same. He will age like Iggy Pop, he will just melt into old age so you can't really see it happen, you can only see it if you compare pictures from the past to the present. He has many female friends. I hope he has grown out of that creepy guy phase and calmed down a little, maybe gotten some treatment. There was a nice guy inside, but there was a dangerously pathetic man outside that scared me.
I got one of my shirts tonight. The fabric is very thin. It seemed a bit short, but it just got caught up on my tatas. I pulled it down, it climbed back up. The sleeves with the lace are great. But I couldn't keep it down over my fucking tits. So, it goes to Kelli, who has better control over her body parts and is thinner than I, which will help. The shirt will hang loosely on her in a really flattering way. And the lace is done in a kind of flowy way, so she'll likely wear it dancing. Now I just wait until my pirate blouse comes, and if it is acceptable, I get to put money aside for a few weeks to get the two dresses and the pirate skirt and harem pants that I want. $48 plus shipping, which they calculate when you order. It's sent from China, so it's pretty much wadded up in as small a plastic package as humanly possible. They're getting a good review from me. Not a raving review, but a good review. I try to give mediocre reviews, pointing out both positive and negative, because people so often only post extremes of one or the other. I do a positive followed by a negative. "It took forever to get here, but they emailed me and warned me that it would." or, "The fabric is much thinner than expected, but it hangs so elegantly." That kind of thing. "Sizes run a bit small, but once you know that, you can adjust your shopping easily enough." And don't mention the sweatshops! This blouse likely came from the same factory that made Chewy's Biker Vest. Yeah, that came from China in 10-25 days, too. I just realized all of the clothes I'm ordering or wanting to order could be used for cosplay. I could do Benny and Joon cosplay, I've got the crazy down. How odd of me. I really don't know what has brought this on. I washed my miniskirts today. I have two. Im going to send Doc to the thrift store with a piece of string that is exactly half the circumference of my hips (where I wear bottoms, I do not acknowledge my waist, I gave that up when I got my first belly button piercing infection). Then he can find skirts he likes, measure them, and if they meet the string test, he can bring them home to me. Dress me up. No one is going to see me. There may be more selfies, as I learn to use the timer on my camera.
I have come to realize that Doc is not going to be my willing photographer outside for a new set of pictures. I'm going to have to set up the shot, set up the props, set up the timer, and run my ass off and pose. Magic.
Wow, did I get talkative. I have a tutorial to do. Very challenging. A couple of hours for intermediate to expert. It's a psychedelic gig poster a la San Fransisco, circa 1968. You know what I'm talking about. We've all seen them for Joplin and the Doors and Hendrix. Well, there's going to be one for Fabulous Disaster, and no, I don't mean the redneck band. No, they can't be rednecks, they use the word Fabulous. Ill have to look into that.
Okay, time to get up, stretch, smoke, refresh my coffee, get ready to do this thing. Its 3:24am. I have three hours to complete and move on to physical art before Doc gets home and I give him the computer for a few hours. And I want to finish the poster with plenty of time to post it to Patreon (Patrons only) and promote that fact. Time to work. At least I got the dishes clean, I would have bet I couldn't do it. But I did. We trashed it proper this weekend. We really did.