Bad Kitty!

*sigh*. It is rather hard when you've had a good day and you come home full of things to share, only to find out that you are in the dog house for something the cat did. Something you had absolutely no control over. Something the cat had no control over. It was just one of those no-one-is-to-blame accidents. And yet, someone WILL be blamed because someone MUST be blamed because otherwise where would the victim direct their pain and anger? And since the cat cannot understand what it did (and has already been given a life-sentence of exile) YOU must shoulder the remaining animosity because there is still pain and anger galore! Oh the sulky looks... the refusal of peace offerings... the numerous "sorries" that make no difference... the expectation that you should be very apologetic and contrite and eager to make amends... except that it was the bloody CAT that did it!!

Anyway. See how the negative energy just keeps going? First the cat gets it, then I get it, then you have to read about it. Sad really.

On a positive note: today was a good day. I cleaned the house and talked to my brother on the phone and prepared a pork roast and let a beetle go free (only after a strict inspection by our local Beetle vs. Vile Unmentionables Panel was it declared by all present (myself and Cinder) that it was, in fact, a beetle and NOT a baby cockroach). I'm not sure how the roast will turn out, it gets done around midnight. I have my misgivings about it.

I also learned today that while it is NOT, in fact, possible to burn tofu, it IS in fact possible for the bottom of the square to stick to the pan over and over again so that you end up with tofu crumbles instead of tofu squares. Kind of like scrambled tofu. But crumby-er.

Tomorrow my mom and I are going down to Los Lunas. I'm going to the Amish store to buy farm-fresh raw milk, pastries, and spices. I'll probably be making damage-control stew out of the remains of the doubtful pork roast. I will try to remember to take pictures.

What Dreams May Never Come

I dreamt that I shot myself.

I wasn't me, I was some other girl, and she was desperately unhappy. She didn't want to die, but she was caught up in her own stubbornness. No one believed she would do it, they weren't taking her seriously, and one boy challenged her by putting the gun in her hand. She was enraged. She waited until everyone was gone, then she counted quickly to 3 and put the gun in her mouth. She squeezed the trigger once and nothing happened, she squeezed it again right away, and that time she knew the bullet had gone through her neck.

At that moment in the dream, I became myself again.

I didn't feel any pain, or hear any noise, but I felt myself slip gently to the floor. There was no impact, it was just like passing out, or falling down when you're really drunk. I laid there on the floor and listened very closely to my heart beat. I didn't know how successful I had been, and I was hoping my heart would keep beating so I could live. At first I could hear it pounding, racing from the adrenaline. Then it started to slow. It skipped a few beats and I held my breath in anticipation for the next beat, hoping it would come. It didn't, but I reasoned perhaps it was because I was holding my breath. A man then came rushing into the room, called by the sound of the shot. He was trying to stop the bleeding, and I felt relieved because he had phoned for help and I knew my brother was coming. My brother is an EMT and I felt sure that he would be able to get my heart beating again. I felt sorry for all the people who would be disturbed by the sight of me. I couldn't speak, but in my mind I tried to tell the man fussing over me that it wasn't me who did this. It was that other girl who no one believed, and that she did it out of frustration. She didn't want to die either, she just wanted to be seen.

Everything started to get grey and I knew the black was coming. I didn't fight it because I knew my brother was on his way and I had absolute confidence in him. Everything was golden, soundless...

...then it went black.

Things will never be like they were, because I am not who I was.

Lots of dreams lately about being in love. Weird how intensely you can feel something in your dreams. You think you've all but forgotten that feeling... then it shows up one night and you wake up feeling so peaceful and happy... even knowing that it wasn't real, it's reassuring to know you at least still have the capacity for true love.

Ninja-Vampire perhaps?

Tonight my brother came in from Austin and I made sweet potato home-fries, but I didn't have any brown sugar, so I dowsed them in cinnamon, which kind of worked, but they still really needed sugar.


He's writing a screen-play and it's his baby and I'm sworn to secrecy so I can't tell you what it's about, but it will most likely be a hit. It cracks me up how similar we are (I told him about the screen-play I wrote back in December) and yet with me being out of state, and now him being out of state, it's like we hardly know each other. I mean, the love is totally there and we laugh together and we can tell each other anything and we always rescue the other when everyone else lets us down (even the rest of the family), but when it comes to that general, day-to-day knowledge of what he's into and what he did last week and what his girlfriend's name is... I come up all blanks. It's really sad and I know it's a result of just not keeping in touch.


Having a sibling is so special and such an amazing relationship that can't ever be duplicated, it amazes me how much we abuse it. But, that's kind of the comfort of it. No matter what happens, no matter what I do, he's my brother and he has to love me. There's not much else in life with that kind of security. :)