Apr 23

The scene:  Approximately 9 years ago, while working in a doctor’s office.  I’m sitting with my friend Chrissy (yes I know AND her real name was Christina…no, that wasn’t confusing AT ALL!) and she’s telling a funny story about her grandma.  It went something like this:

The other Chrissy:  My grandma calls velcro “vulva.”

Chrissy ie Me:  I…um…what?

The other Chrissy:  No, I’m serious.  She calls it “vulva” and I have no idea why.

Chrissy ie Me:  Vulva.  Huh.  Does she know what a “vulva” is?

The other Chrissy:  I would assume she doesn’t.

Chrissy ie Me:  Oh, you are lying.  This is some kind of joke right?

The other Chrissy: I’m calling my mom right now…here I’ll put her on speaker.

The other Chrissy calls her mom and asks her.  Sure enough, her mother’s mother calls velcro “vulva” and no one knows why.

We are both laughing hysterically when our co-worker, Kathy, walks in: 

Kathy:  What are ya’ll laughing at?

The Other Chrissy:  My grandma calls velcro “vulva.”

Kathy gave her a blank stare for a few seconds and then said, and I quote:

“You mean, like the car?”

To which, The Other Chrissy and I were doubled over and in tears.

Random but funny.  Come on, you know you’re laughing.

Apr 10

funny pictures of cats with captions
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Happy Birthday Mom! 

I thought you would get a kick out of this picture.  (I have no idea who it is or where it was taken but hey, it’s funny and I know you appreciate my humor)

Mom, thank you for always celebrating the fact that I’m different.  That I’m odd.  That I march to the beat of my own drum.  I keep that close to my heart on days that I wish I were more “normal.”

Have a great day.  I love you.

Christina

Apr 8

Hey ya’ll, Clarence here.

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My mom wanted to show me off and told me to post here on her blog.  I don’t know what she was thinking, I mean, I do NOT have opposable paws, therefore I don’t type.  So, I said “Mom?  Take a letter.”  She jumped on it too.  I mean, could you resist this face?

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That’s me on my dad’s lap.  Mom says I look a little “smug.”  I say “if the shoe fits..”  Speaking of my dad, he and mom have been going back and forth about how to spell my name.  Mom thinks it should be spelled with a “C” and dad thinks it should be spelled with a “K.”  All I know?  Is keep my food bowl full and keep doing that scratchy thing with your hand, dad.

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Also?  My mom and dad seem to think that I talk like a “stoner” with a southern accent.  I don’t know how that can be, I was born in Alaska and I’m not a stoner.  I mean, just because I go batshit crazy get a little excited about catnip, does NOT mean I’m a stoner.  I’m guessing they think I talk with a southern accent because they are southern and that’s okay, I’ll indulge them.

But honestly, do I look like a cat who gets stoned?

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Pay no attention to the above picture.

They also think I completely adore my “big brother” Pepper.  First of all, that spazzy, hyper, little furball is the same age as me.  I do not understand how that makes him my “big brother.”  And second, I only make him THINK I love him so that he doesn’t get an inferior complex when he’s around me because dammit, I’m a handsome boy. 

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Mom also insists that I post some pictures of my brother and me to PROVE that I love and adore him.  I’m just going to humor her but you and I know better, right?

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(Looks like my “big brother” clearly loves and adores me)

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Oh please.  I’m simply comforting him because he’s been through a lot in the last year and he keeps trying to find solace in these stupid squeaky toys.  There is no subsitute for real, live comfort.  I am a cat who is all about sacrifices, people!

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And all this talk of love, comfort, sacrifice, and allegations has me all tuckered out.  Give my mom a break for not being able to come up with anything and go ogle my pictures instead. 

I’m outta here. 

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Apr 6

After that last post, I was making fun of myself for throwing such a pathetic pity party but still wrestling with all kinds of emotions.

Dusty called Sunday morning and invited us out to their friend’s cabin via snowmachine.  I hesitated at first, feeling safe and comfortable in my home, wrapped in blankets and snuggled up with my boys.

“I have a headache” I whined.

“So do I, but I think fresh air will help” Dusty countered.

“Let’s get up and go, baby”  Howard offered.

What could I say?  Clearly, I was outnumbered.  Dusty and I worked out the details and Howard and I geared up.

Dusty offered us one of his extra snowmachines so that Howard and I could ride separately.  I was a little nervous at first because this would be the longest I’d ever driven a snowmachine solo but I was up for the adventure.

We met up with Dusty’s mom and aunt and set out on the frozen river.  I drove cautiously at first, keeping a relatively slow speed compared to my traveling companions until I felt comfortable enough to catch up.  Finally, on a long stretch of snow covered ice, I pressed harder on the throttle and in no time, I caught up to Dusty who was leading the way for me.  It felt damn good.  The wind in my face seemed to blow the stress right out of my body and left it in the powder behind me. 

As we approached the over land trail, I saw the leading machines make their way up the steep embankment and I initially felt trepidation, then I shook of my inhibitions and sped up enough to zip up the bank with ease and as I topped the hill, I felt the back of my machine lift up in the air for a few seconds and then I landed back on the trail and continued on my way.

I was smiling underneath my scarf and squealed with delight.  

We eventually made our way to the cabin and after I disembarked from my machine, Howard approached me and I excitedly asked him “Did you see my air?” 

“I did!  That was awesome!”  He said, dimples shining.

We spent the afternoon cleaning the cabin, hanging out, sharing a bottle of wine and snacking on salmon and crackers.  A few other people showed up and we shared our bounty as they did the same.  The weather was perfect, the sun was high in the sky, and we soaked it all up.

Eventually, we packed up, geared up, and hit the trail to head back home.  The adrenaline pulsed in my veins as I throttled up whenever I got into a long stretch.  I was much more comfortable.  I was unabashedly giddy.

Dusty and his entourage made their way up the first embankment into town and Howard and I waved goodbye to them and stayed on the river until we got closer to where we live.  As we approached, I realized the embankment appeared dangerously steep.  I was hesitant and waved Howard on around me.  He throttled up and made the embankment with relative ease.  As I watched him, I held my breath as his snowmachine screamed and nearly went vertical and then tipped forward and finally carried him over the bank. 

He pulled up onto the road, got off his machine, then signaled for me to do the same.  He was smiling and encouraging.  I was already looking around for a less angular embankment. I came up empty.  I hesitated and then sped toward the embankment.  Just as I got to the base, I chickened out and made a sharp turn to my left.  I slowed down and turned to face the steep course again.  I took a deep breath and said a prayer of “God, please let me make it up that hill”, then I went full throttle, headed toward the base and felt the nose tip up and I leaned forward and focused on the top of what seemed like a mountain.  In a second I was up the hill and I came flying over the bank and landed right in front of Howard’s machine. 

I yelled a “WOOOO!” and pumped my fists in the air.  Howard smiled and said “You made it!”

Later, after we were settled in at home, Howard looked over at me and said “I’m proud of you honey, you made it up that hill and you didn’t think you would.”

As I drifted off to sleep that night, my body tired and spent, my arms sore and aching, and my face windburned, I felt incredible.  I felt happy.  And I also knew that when Howard told me I made it when I didn’t think I would, he wasn’t just talking about that hill.

I closed my eyes and said a prayer of thanks.

 

Apr 4

Last night, my friend Melissa and I chatted online for over an hour.  We reminisced about all the crazy times we spent back in NC and gave updates on our lives.

And of course we laughed a lot.

It’s no secret (duh) that I’ve been scarce lately.  I’m not sure where to begin so I won’t.

I will say that things have been overwhelming me lately.  At times it feels absolutely suffocating.

Yesterday, as I was trying to tell Dusty something, he walked away from me and I had to follow him to finish what I was saying.  I could tell he was completely flustered and just needed to put some distance between us.

Afterwards, I felt awful about that.  Dusty’s a good friend who puts up with a lot from me.  But even he has his limits.

That’s when I began realizing that I miss my friends more than ever.

I try really hard not to be needy and that can sometimes come off as being distant and aloof to some people.

Ironically, after holding everything in and acting like I can do all things on my own without burdening anyone, when I DO ask for help, it comes off as:  Say it with me boys and girls… NEEDY!

It keeps everyone confused which is why it’s no surprise that I have very few close friends.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have a large network of people I genuinely like and vice versa and outwardly, I really do enjoy meeting new people.  In reality, very few of those people see my ugly side.

It’s hard to be friends with me.  It’s incredibly taxing and takes a lot of effort.  I am complicated, quirky, and my moods change with the wind.  It’s nothing that will ever change.  It’s who I am and I have learned to make no apologies.

In any event, after talking with Melissa last night, she reminded me that though I have very few real friends, I am thankful for the ones who have hung in there with me.  Who have stood by me through all the good and the bad.

You all know who you are.  That goes for you too, Melissa.  I can’t thank you enough for that conversation last night.  It came when I desperately (there’s that word again) needed it.

It also made me realize that I need to practice opening my heart a little more.  To accept the gifts that I’m offered.  Maybe it wouldn’t seem so foreign and uncomfortable when I do accept them.

Who knows?  This post is starting to confuse you now too, isn’t it?

Let me just end it by thanking you, my wonderful, beautiful, albeit few friends.  I know I’m no picnic but thank you for making the effort to see past that.

When the sun shines, we’ll shine together
Told you I’ll be here forever
Said I’ll always be a friend
Took an oath, I’ma stick it out till the end

Now that it’s raining more than ever
Know that we’ll still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella
You can stand under my umbrella