Mutt and Jeff

This coming weekend we are likely (depending on my father) getting two new cats, Mutt and Jeff. I find their names ironic, as they are very similar looks-wise - fat, siamese/orange tabby mixes. Both are declawed. Really, it should be Jeff & Jeff, as they are as alike that tubby, round fellow as they could possibly be.

Us on the way to the cat food store, apparently.

These new members of the family I am happy to take in, but it is with a heavy heart. My aunt, my father's oldest sister, will be passing soon. Meeting her again in later life (I hadn't seen her since my Far-Far's memorial, when I was about 16, due to family estrangements) has been extremely fulfilling, as I now understand a lot more about myself simply by listening to her. She is a spitfire, who stands on her beliefs and morals with two feet, but is still willing to listen. She doesn't like to talk about others, but if she does, it's nothing she wouldn't say to their face. Losing her will feel like losing a part of myself, and the regrets that come will be of not reconnecting sooner, of not being able to enjoy this woman, her stories, her opinions and her jokes, for longer than the brief period we've been able to snag.

I'm starting to realize that I'm losing my grandparents. I didn't know two of my grandparents - they'd passed on before I could, one before I was born, one before I was 1. My mother's mom passed when I was 6, and is the one I relate to the most. We often become our mothers if we leave nature to its business, but I remind my mother of her mother more often than not. My Far-Far, like I said, passed when I was 16, but he was not a good man, from my understanding. My parents have said he tried to kick us out into the cold in the middle of winter because my parents were separating (I was 9), and since then until the Saturday before he passed, I saw him only once behind my father's back. All I remember of him was his playing blackjack with me with pennies. I'd be so excited to go home with a mittful (likely about $1) and dreaming of the penny candies I'd buy the next day. He'd collect the pennies weekly and make sure I got them all before the end of the night. I have no recollection of him being mean, cruel or petty, but apparently he was. But not to me, and I will leave it at that.

Losing my Uncle Buck last year, who was effectively my grandfather for most of my life, has been hard. To this day I still cry when I hear his laugh in my head, or see something he would have enjoyed. I have many of his things, knickknacks he built a story around that was likely only 20% true and 80% complete and utter magic, and they bring me comfort.

Considering that, I'm excited about Mutt and Jeff. The history here is that we offered to take them in when I heard that they were likely going to be put down when she passed. Not in my world, thanks - offering to take them in gave her a lot of relief, but it came about that her daughter decided they wanted them, as the kids enjoyed them. That was fine with me, as long as they weren't put down. Cats at 8 years old are just getting started, and these two deserved more than that. But then we went to see her a couple of weeks ago, and I brought my husband along. Boy o boy did they LOVE him - and vice versa - and her seeing the cats take to us and us take to the cats made her realize that she wanted them to come to us, and that to me is the greatest compliment I could ever receive. It's akin to someone wanting their child to go to you if they pass on - this is their most precious possession, and bestowing it to you is a gift to both of you at the same time.

Ted (my youngest cat) is only 5, and very rambunctious, not to mention smart. With only Mulan, our 16-year-old grand dame, to play with, he's been getting into a lot of trouble. Having these two around him should a) keep him entertained and b) get them exercising. They are tubby, and were declawed before even my aunt got them, so will need to keep his nails trimmed regularly. They remind me of Hedonism bot in a way, moving only when the sunbeam does, and refusing to hunt for even the smallest spider.

Just wait until the 'nip hits.

Don't get me wrong, we don't take on animals willy-nilly or without due consideration. With 2 dogs and 2 cats at home, it's always a concern about who will get along with who, and ensuring you can give them appropriate care. But these two are pretty easy going, and the diet we're putting them on should fix a lot of health issues they have. I find that our menagerie tends to take on our own personalities, which means lots of snuggling, playfulness and relaxation. I've never had a group of animals of my own that has had problems with each other - they tend to bond pretty fast. I'm pretty sure this will happen again with these two.

I'm looking forward to getting to know them better, and see them grow. I'm glad I have something to hold onto when she goes that reminds me of her. And I'm glad that, at the end of her day, I was able to do something to give her peace, to hold a little space for her beyond, and let her feel that she was cared for.

Gentle, gentle

Sometimes I just want to run away. To chase a place that is silent, that is gentle. Gentle - that word is my mantra in a world of chaos and heartache. We are not gentle with each other. We are not kind with our words. We rush to judgement, to slot someone into a predetermined place in our minds so we can forget them and carry on with no changes.

I don't fit into a slot, I never have. I am a contrast of so many things - half my mother, half my father. Half my brother, half my sister. Oldest, middle and youngest child at the same time. Open-hearted and introverted. Crazy desire to help the world, but would prefer to be left alone. I have never fit a stereotype or trend, and I tell ya, I really wanted to as a young adult. Being different was a giant pain in the ass when all you wanted was a swatch watch and a binder that didn't have logos of my dad's job because he stole them from work for my schooling.

These days, there's tons of quotes out there about 'don't conform' and 'you weren't mean't to fit in, you were meant to stand out'. They were there when I was younger, too.

Yeah, this bullshit.

Know what's terrifying for a kid trying to find her place in the world when her parents have split, her siblings have scattered and who is an anxious, epileptic, rejection-fearing stress-pot? Standing out. My entire life has been about trying to NOT be noticed. I don't like attention. Attention means more people notice you when you fuck up, which I tended to do a lot. I learned to be afraid to try, because if I didn't get it in the first go, it must mean I suck. Rejection is a hell of a slap when you finally work up the courage to get out there and actually fucking try.

Let me get a little medical on you and show you what it's like when your brain is on anxiety.

Your brain on stress.

So, did you get that? Our brains become soaked in dopamine and norepinepherine (that's a type of adrenaline, for you folks that might not know that), which shuts down our thinking brain.

To put it a little clearer, here:

My brain on stress.

Now, you're all going to go on about 'we shouldn't give out participation awards' blah blah blah, and I agree. But I'm starting to realize how traumatized I've been by the world simply by trying to live in it and conform to its standards. I am striking, but not conventionally beautiful. I am smart, but not genius. I am funny, but not hilarious. If I try to stand out, it's just about how mediocre I am... who wants to draw attention to that?

When did we become so quick to push away others? When did we start rejecting anything different? I'm sure it was ages ago, but society today really seems to amplify it. Everything is about division, about us vs. them. Seems to me everyone is just looking for something to stand up for, but there's so much wrong that we can't get a handle on one thing. Our identities are becoming lists, like Pro-Choice-Liberal-Eco-Friendly-Vegan Joe, vs. Pro-Life-Conservative-Humvee-driving Mike. We focus on our differences rather than our similarities, when one difference can separate us forever. Joe and Mike might both be hiking enthusiasts. They might both be Catholics. They might both be accountants, or enjoy beer, or be basketball fans. But they'll never know because of their differences.

I'm learning to find people who don't expect anything of me. There is a certain freedom that comes from simply enjoying someone when the occasion arises. I'm sort of still reveling in it, while trying to take a moment to assimilate what's going on with me before the next shiny thing catches my attention and I'm back to my knee-jerk reactions of obsession and then apathy. I used to be all about the black or white, yes or no, up or down. Clear delineation helps stem the slowly seeping grey area that most mistakes are made in. But when you yourself are grey, how can you ever come to terms with yourself?

And not this grey bullshit. If this is what you're thinking, stop reading. Ever.

I think we were meant to embrace our differences, not that they are superior, simply different. Then we can learn to find ways to incorporate that difference into a relationship by embracing others' similarities. Complementary relationships are really rare these days, but they are truly beautiful.

And that's all I have to say about that. Instead, I'll leave you with this:

I burnt the list.

So, it's been awhile, huh? Remember when I said I was going to burn the list last Monday? Well, I did it, and it was amazingly liberating... then the next morning I promptly tumbled ass-over-tea-kettle down the stairs. Then the dogs had a battle. Then things got REALLY sore about Wednesday. So yeah, kinda been dealing with that. Why am I telling you all this? You don't care. Am I justifying why I didn't post in the last week? Pffft, meh. PPbbbbtttt. Other noises...

That noise isn't coming from the front end...

OK, so let's get back to the list burning. It was actually incredible. I began by meditating, and seeing how things occurred in my head when I didn't have a set list of 'shoulds' weighing me down. Know what? My energy returned! I felt like a world was taken off my shoulders. I didn't realize how much obligation, even the idea of it, drained me. I also had an easier time thinking, I slept like a log, and I didn't have that sick burning-pit-of-the-stomach feeling at the thought of going outside.  Before, I felt like everyone knew how much of a failure I was in my own mind, like they could SEE it on me as soon as I was out the door, and then would tell others about it.

It's weird how anxiety makes you become totally self-obsessed, when all you truly want is to be ignored. No one gives a shit what I did and didn't do, all that is in my head. I know this. I post bullshit pics of "don't care what others think" memes on my FB wall all the time. I tell others how awesome they are, because I worry they go through the same bullshit self-defeating attitude I do and need a boost. I know that what that girl behind me on the bus is laughing about has nothing to do with me. But as soon as I hear it, my first thought is "OMG, what did I do? Is my underwear showing? Do I look fat? Do I have a bogie in my nose? A zit? WHAT?" The obsession spirals until I am so sweaty and uncomfortable that I just want to go home and cry. Meanwhile, the girls were probably giggling at a cat picture.

This is my secret identity... crap, I wasn't supposed to say that, was I?

But in this meditation, I could see myself reacting to what's in front of me, rather than being lost in a forest of obligations. I dropped things that had been on there for YEARS. I got motivation to do things I hadn't done in months, like clean. Like play with the dogs. Like read something other than garbage romance novels...

 Damn you Book Bub!

So what did I do with all this new motivation? I got knocked over by a dog doing the pee-pee dance, and ping-pong'd my way down the stairs. Finnick didn't even care... he still had to pee. He just looked at me like 'WTF you doing down there... I GOTS TA GO!'

Journal insight of the day: my life revolves around making sure this guy doesn't pee all over the house. How's that for a life accomplishment?

So I spent my newfound motivation playing a 20-year-old video game for a week because I hate TV and reading is hard when the pages keep getting covered in drool from the muscle relaxants... On the plus side, I realized the game wasn't as terrifying as it was when I was 23. On the (subtract?) side, it still kicked my ass when it came to the Marlboros.

I feel like it needs to say "Stop hitting yourself" in Nelson Muntz's voice.

So, where does all this leave me? Same place as before, but with a little more insight. Really, I think that's the most we can expect from any type of experiment. And that's just fine.