I was crying on the porch over my lost baby, Felix, when I heard an inquisitive meow. I thought I was imagining it, or Teeny was experimenting with new sounds. After a moment, I opened my eyes, at my feet, looking up at me with concern, was Felix. I grabbed that cat and held him close and whispered love stuff to him for at least ten minutes. He purred loudly and kneaded my shoulder. His tail was up with a curl at the end. He still loves me. Three signs of love at once. He’s all right. He’s out playing right now. He’s been in and out of the yard to check on me.
The rest of the cats have relaxed and are leaving me alone. For three days, I was never without a cat. If not on my lap, asleep on my feet, or following me around the house, meowing to let me know they were there. That was mostly Major, Sai Sai and Boo. Even Vader and Teeny came over to me and offered their condolences. And Freddie stepped right up, giving up Doc for a few days to stay by my side and nurfle my coffee cup for me. It was great. Now they are leaving me be, which is also nice, at this point. I can only handle so much love.
Doc and I are really cruising along with the plants. We actually took a large clone and set it to bloom immediately, just to see what would happen. We have enough healthy plants, now that I am taking care of them (I hadn’t realized what a drain on Doc the whole thing was, or I would have taken over long ago, I feel like such a putz), that we can experiment and afford to lose them if the experiments go wrong. We also have two healthy strains going now. It’s going to be about 6 weeks before our next crop, and about 2 weeks after that before the next one and so on. We now have a two week rotation of clones to transplant to veg to bloom. Longer if they are not strong. And we choose mothers from every other generation. It’s going well. And we are staying under our legal limit. You can have some in process, some in bloom and some drying in certain amounts at any given time. If you don’t have any loose on you, you can have more plants. So we’re cool. And don’t worry about this post. Like I said, the FBI knows, it’s a government program, and I’m known to them. I’m just not a threat, as I don’t stockpile weapons and only declare war on white trash house wives.
Speaking of which . . . I guess I was feeling open because of Felix. And I let the rage and resentment in. And then, instead of saying something to, or reacting to, my post about Felix being missing on my FB page, Jodie went to Circus Catimus’ page, found the same picture, and “liked” it. I took this as a slight. Why not just add your voice or reaction to the masses, and let me know clearly what your intentions are? Why be passive-aggressive and vague? If you’re going to post on a different page, on the same photo, because you feel, say something. Let me know. Yes, I took it as a slight. And in the state I was in, weak, admittedly, I let it push me over the edge.
And I started drama. I started a war. Doc is pissed and I don’t care. I am sick to death of these people and we are trying to ignore them and let them go and they, or she, keeps poking us. I can’t take it anymore. I want a resolution. Even if, no, especially if, that resolution is their eternal silence in our direction. I said some awful things to her. And it hurt to do it, because I feel a lot of empathy for her. I have been in a similar situation to her, and seen no way out. And made myself loyal to a complete cockscratch, to the extent of making myself an ass in front of everyone. I know this situation. The only thing I don’t know is the added difficulty of having a kid in the middle of the mix. But that is bad, too. They are homeschooling him, and between the two of them are barely functionally literate. They neglected his teeth to the point where a dentist had to put steel caps on most of his molars, and he still has his baby teeth. That part of things, I can’t understand. But there are shelters, there are charities, there are advocacy groups. For years, she had a friend sitting right here, inviting her over for coffee, trying to call and talk to her. I gave as much as I could to her. I gave valuable collectible dinosaur toys to her son to see him smile. I tried to give her emotional support, gurl support, friend support. She always stood me up. She always wanted Doc to come over.
And really, do we want to get started on that? She is a well-endowed, slightly overweight, petite girl with a pretty face and gorgeous hair. I don’t know if her color is out of a box like mine, but it is flawless. When Doc shows up there unannounced, which is usually, they act weird when they know he is coming, she always disappears for a few minutes. She emerges with fresh make-up on and a push up bra. I have mentioned that she is well endowed, the bra is just terrifying, I’ve seen it once, when she didn’t know I was out in the truck with the dog. And she sits near Doc, too near Doc, and touches him, and dominates the conversation with “poor me, I’m so lonely here all day” stories. And Breuklen, who ignores her completely, doesn’t notice any of this going on in the same room as him. He is that self-absorbed. And after about ten minutes, Doc fakes an emergency text from me, doesn’t talk to Breuklen about the scooter and gets the hell out of there.
It’s been over three years, I could go on for pages. There’s the way they talk about me behind my back, and the way Doc just ignores it instead of telling them to shut the fuck up and show some respect. I told him it was tacit agreement and I didn’t appreciate it. He got mad at me. I don’t know that I can help that. Jodie brought that up in public on FB with the line ‘you keep getting the help you so obviously need”, and to be completely honest, until I read that, I wasn’t going to say anything else to her. Or about her. But that stepped over the line. You do not come into my house and try to shame me over my illness in front of my friends. You wouldn’t even consider doing that to a cancer patient, why in the world would it be all right to do it to a mentally ill person? It isn’t. Pretty simple. So, with that, she pretty much threw down the gauntlet.
I said something snarky about her, then responded to her entire comment in a moderately diplomatic way. In the meantime I sent a vicious, hateful message to one of her multiple accounts used for hocking fake weight loss products. But the message was not harassing or threatening. I just told her she deserves everything she gets, knowing her life has been shit for 20 years and does not look to improve any time soon. I let loose on her, and I really hope I made her mad, storm off, go think, and then go cry with the deeper realization that I am right. That’s what I hope. And, frankly, I’m willing to continue this until I reach that goal. I want the twat to weep. I want her to feel so low about herself that maybe, just maybe, she finds that glimmer of strength that drives her to make different decisions and change her life for the better. I want to help her hit bottom. Because someone needs to, and the way she drinks, she’ll just kill herself before she hits bottom, and even when she does, he won’t let her get help and stick with it.
I still haven’t sold any jewelry. I’m a new seller, it will take a while. A friend will have to make a first purchase and leave a good review, and then things will start to pick up. I just have no sales, and no reviews, and only 12 things up. I need to finish the Smash Books and put them up there, they are the closest to being done. I just have to cut some paper, and maybe decorate some more paper to fill them. Then tie the ribbons and beads onto the spines. I’m leaving the covers blank so the authors can decorate them, themselves. Next will be the CD mic kits. All I need to do for those is cover the lids of the CD tins with fun things, and then put blank labels on the CDs and line the tins with black velvet. I’m thinking of charging $10 per kit, do you think that is too much? Quite a bit of clay and ephemera will go on the lids, then there is the liner, and CDs and labels. Plus the assembly time. So I kind of think that is fair. Maybe $9.00. Let me know what you think, without a picture.
Oh, wow. I had no idea. It feels so good to finally get all of that Jodie stuff out in the open. I have been holding it all in, letting it all build up for years. I can’t tell Kelli, she doesn’t want to hear it, same with Doc, but for other reasons. I haven’t been able to say anything at all, just sit and stew and get more and more furious. Now I feel so much better. I don’t want to go over there and gut her.
And just so it’s clear, I don’t care if Doc sleeps with her, though I would question his taste. He has always had the prerogative to sleep with whomever he pleases, I just prefer he not keep them here for long. More than two days. I like my space, it’s nothing against them. I don’t even mind that she flirts with him, I don’t blame her. He is attractive in every way, personality, physical, humor. And she is stuck with a short, scrawny, hairless, toothless, ignorant, self-important cockscratch with an inferiority complex. What I do mind is that it creeps Doc out, and she chases him out of the house before he can talk to Breuklen, and now she does all the communicating. I mind that. It’s like she is doing it on purpose to keep Breuklen from having to deal with his responsibilities. I resent that.
Boo is getting used to the milk schedule. Oh, I didn’t tell you about Boo and the milk? Oh dear, quite a saga. I’ll try to keep it short. Boo likes milk. After careful monitoring while she was quarantined, we established that she could digest milk. So Boo gets milk. As a treat. Boo gets fed at night, she can only eat soft food until we get her to a dentist. One day we were out of soft food, so I gave her bits of shredded chicken, and lamb and rice and milk during the day. Boo learned what the milk jug looked like. Watching me over the next couple of days, Boo saw that when I put coffee in my mug, I also added milk. Time to beg. And beg Boo did. And wail. And whine. It took me about a week, but I finally started giving in to her at the same time of day, with my first refill of coffee. And I talk to her about it as it happens. We meow back and forth, and after I put milk in my mug, she runs and jumps up on their cabinet to wait for her treat. Finally, we have severely cut down on the extraneous begging and wailing every time I enter the kitchen, and it was really getting out of hand. In all, it was a three week ordeal. I have to remember this pro tip: negative reinforcement does not work, only positive reinforcement and distraction work.
So, am I using negative reinforcement on Jodie, or am I trying to distract her with logic, and failing that, the sheer crazy that they keep joking about?
Okay, there is a story behind the crazy thing, and why it sticks in their craws. Shortly after we met, and I had met their son, and he had decided he could tolerate me (rare with him), they hit me up to care for him during the day. Mention of payment was never made, I guess it was assumed that I was home anyway, I could just have him around. I tried to vaguely explain that it would not be my cup of tea. He pressed me and pressed me, bringing it up again and again in conversation. Finally, backed into a corner, none of my go-to excuses having worked, I told him straight out that I had schizophrenia and really couldn’t be trusted with the stress of being alone with children. Then there was a half an hour of “you don’t seem crazy to me, it will be fine, I trust you, he’s a good kid, you’ll be fine,” to which I kept resisting. Finally followed an increasingly angry hour of him insisting that I was what was wrong with society and I was a sheep to the psychiatry industry and I needed to stop taking my meds and lead a “natural” life (coming from a man who lives on coffee, Tums, and cigarettes). Eventually, Doc came out to the patio, where we were, and I ran in the house. I was never friendly to Breuklen again. And that was a few months after we met. Ever since then he has made jokes about my illness in the most snide, insulting way, and like I said, Doc said he chooses to “ignore” it. Tacit approval.
I’m done. Really, I’m purged. I don’t possibly know what else I can say. Plus, I have the strongest feeling that Felix is in the treehouse, I’m going to go out and get him. I think I have some salami left for him. He’s getting that, and cheddar cheese, and maybe some tuna juice. A tuna sandwich for dinner sounds good. And he will eat whatever falls out of the bread. I miss potato chips. Someday I will get to eat them again. When I get implants, and I can eat again, the first thing I am getting is ribs, corn on the cob, and potato chips. Then, the next night, I’m getting a big, juicy, rare steak and having something with sticky hot caramel for dessert. I’m lucky I live where I do, I can easily find these meals.