enjoy some tunes while you guzzle down all this emo content

Friday, November 29, 2013

people only want me for the element of spectacle. I am eager to give and entertain and draw them out but it drains. sometimes I'm not getting anything back.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

i need to relax and listen to more groovy music and old boogie and i think that will help. i want to shave half my head and wear a cap and pants. jean jacket style. calm it down but still fun. to entertain and boggle. CAN I BE A CLOWN YET?

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

a vivid morning dream, when you almost feel awake and present in the floating. 

I'm being punished or maybe otherwise institutionalized. I'm locked into one of the cat cages from work and I can't sleep all night on the cold metal floor. 

i don't have words to explain this: a woman wants to ride around on a giant steamroller. it's luxurious and she's 30 feet off the ground. not driving, just sitting in the open air and waving and being on top. 

I'm escorted back into the cattery and someone is being pinned to the floor, getting a giant needle stabbed into their ass. the guard tells me I'm next. up to this point, I've been uncooperative but here I see my chance. I tell him I'll take the drugs without fighting, so they give me painkillers and the pills dissolve in my mouth before I can swallow them down with water. 

Since I've "decided to be good" they're gonna move me to a different cell. I'm marched through a sinister and deeply rich maze of strange objects like a carnival. huge images hang from the ceiling: a massive burger and fries, a Maurice Sendak style king's face. The colors are pale and dark and I say nothing. 

As we weave between the disheveled buildings and the shanty shacks, I am able to get away from my escort for brief moments. I'm opening every door I can find without making a scene. Filthy hairy prisoners quietly creep free and disappear into the darkness. 

I'm moved into a bigger enclosure. Is this jail for cats and humans? From my cell I can see a kitten (again in a group room from the cattery) and a woman asking questions about him. She's afraid he will be "uncontrollable" since he isn't neutered yet. (are we cats or people?)

Morgan comes to visit. She has lost a tooth and in its place, a whole new set of tiny teeth is growing in. It looks like a kitten's teeth inside her normal mouth. I tell her something isn't right. 

I'm plotting my escape. 


Monday, November 11, 2013

i read your letter

and i felt only emptiness. you can't get back what you broke. i've tried, but i don't know how to make you understand that. i'm glad that you are happy, but i have nothing for you. sometimes i miss you but i know i'm missing something that doesn't exist anymore. some days i can smile at those memories; others i'm just hurt and heartbroken. i can't forgive you if you can't understand what happened. you threw out our friendship and you don't deserve it back. i am more than you ever knew, than you will ever know.

Thursday, November 07, 2013

the last few days have been some of the most intense ups and downs in the history of my life, no joke.

thursday morning (halloween) was minerva's tail amputation and spay surgery, which they decided to do even though she'd been sneezing a bit. normally, sick babies don't get surgery, but they said her tail just had to come off, and we couldn't wait any longer. holly kept catching me peeking through the window of the operating room, trying to catch a glimpse of my baby on my way to the coffee machine. finally i asked her to let me know how it went, and holly promised she'd let me know. back in the cattery, trish showed up to pick up kittens for brodie petco, and luckily she was not in a rush, so she held cats and we talked while i checked everybody's med records and tried to figure out who to send. holly popped in to tell me that they were about to start minerva's surgery, and i literally dropped everything and ran to the OR window to watch. holly let me come into the room and told me not to touch or breathe on or even look at the stand of surgical instruments at the foot of the operating table. i was so anxious and upset to see my baby gone under - her tongue hanging out and pinched by tongs, her eyes half open and glossy, breath slow and soft. she should always be talking, hopping, purring, so as excited as i was for her, it was hard not to feel upset seeing her like that. the doctor was not someone i've ever met before. maybe it was dr jefferson, the head of APA, who i am always hearing about but never seeing. at any rate, she didn't say hi to me or make eye contact, so i'm afraid my presence bothered her. i walked down to wendy's office to ask her a quick question and then let mer know that the surgery was about to start, so she ran back to watch through the window with me. since minerva's tail was broken in several places, they started by just cutting off the bulk of it with scissors. wendy was horrified, and i was fascinated, and so happy that she'd finally be rid of that dead thing. we were kinda squealing, and holly had to tell us to shut up, which i now feel terrible about... i didn't know they could really hear us through the glass! holly brought out the severed tail and let me hold it. it didn't feel how i expected - it was like a furry finger, stiff, but the fur was like a case that could be slid up and down around the hard bone. i freaked out, loving it, getting minerva's blood on my hands, immediately wishing i'd taken a picture.

the day proceeded to turn into a giant mass of sickness, with 20 cats needing medicine, in addition to the already sick guys, the possible calicivirus cats, and three or four babies needing to be force fed. sandy started puking up orange foam and i freaked out that he had eaten a toy and moved him to a single and took away his food. i was running back to the clinic for the zillionth time that afternoon when i finally asked how minerva was doing -- anthony told me she was awake and doing well, just really drunk from all the painkillers and tranquilizers. i asked if i could bring her back to cattery, and they said sure. she was probably tripping hard when i took her out of the clinic kennel; she kept scooting away when i tried to pick her up. but when i got her back in her regular bluebox, she let me pet her and purred away. she was mostly her usual ridiculous self, although she was stumbling around and her eyes looked wet and weepy. i set her up with her snuggiedisc and a warm bowl of fancy feast, which she devoured while perching on the warm disc. when the transport person showed up to take her to foster, it was so hard for me to let her go. i got steve to take our picture before kissing her head and saying goodbye.

i ended up working till almost midnight, with all the sick babies and force feeding. i was so exhausted, i involuntarily stopped at a taco bell on my way home. for real, my body just took over and pulled into the drive-thru. at home, i made a list but was too tired to pack and just passed out on top of my laundry.

on friday. i woke up at 8:30 to pack, but i'm a slow-poke and i didn't have time to take a shower or eat or buy coffee for amy like i said i would, especially because she convinced me i needed to be there an hour before my plane took off. she drove me in my own car to the airport because i didn't know how to get there. watching her drive away in my car was like going through a portal - my regular life had left me behind.

after going through security, i found a coffee stand and bought a bagel and latte. why can't i seem to remember that i HATE lattes?!?! never again. over breakfast, i typed some hurried notes for laylee about the cats - i usually try to do this the night before, but i was just too exhausted and there were too many. so i'm hunched over my bagel and phone, and who should walk up but DAN who had actually told me he was flying to his hometown in mexico today for a wedding. of course! i never imagined i'd see him here, and it was pretty awkward. i didn't stand up and he didn't sit down. what do you say to someone who you haven't seen since your drunken cuddle party sleepover two weeks ago? "have fun at the wedding." he isn't so attractive in the harsh airport light, and he looks exhausted and ill. almost grey. i know he's gotta be thinking the same thing about me.

i boarded the plane next to last, and before we took off, i remembered laylee's family tradition: before traveling, take a moment to sit and close your eyes and think of all the people you love and visualize a safe journey. laylee said, "i guess it's like praying, but not."

on the plane, i sat next to a 60-something-year-old woman from Indianapolis who had been in austin for her friend's daughter's wedding. it was Downtown Abbey / Edgar Allen Poe themed, and this lady thought it was gonna be a joke, but it was actually one of the most beautiful, "impressive" weddings she had ever been to. "I'm conservative, and I was expecting it to be a joke, but this was just impressive." so old people can still be surprised, can still change their minds. another instance of me relating more to old people than to people my age, these days. and how weird it is that old people are just as confused and stumbling as me -- it doesn't get better, it doesn't make more sense with age. as the plane lands, she weasels it out of me that i'm going home for the film fest. "Be proud of yourself! This is a huge accomplishment!" okay, i'll try. "No, do! Like Yoda said, "Don't try. Do!" this makes me smile and i think she might be right.

brett has agreed to pick me up from the airport, but for some reason we can't find each other. i forget which way is out -- this airport is so weirdly small and dinky, but none of the signage makes sense and i can't figure out where i'm going, and i'm so anxious to get out of there, i just keep turning around and around. i go down the escalator, and he isn't there, so i go back up, and finally find him. the moment is a little odd, as moments in way stations often are. he seems excited to see me, but also surprised (do i look different?) and a little unsure of himself. in true brett fashion, the first thing he does is take a stop at the wiz palace. of course. on the way out, i see the Flyer in its little dispenser and i have to stop and get a copy. even though i already knew we had the cover, it's still mindblowing and surreal to see it right in front of me, in the box with a hundred other copies, sitting here in the memphis international airport. no fucking way.

so we decide to go to lunch, but first brett has to check the blu-ray of the movie at morgan fox's house, and while we're at it, i'll charge my phone for a few minutes. declan opens the door and is certainly surprised to see us, but seems happy nonetheless. we give and get big hugs, and hang out on the couch with delvy. eileen has just gotten dressed and says hello for a minute before cole wheeler shows up and they disappear. mfox gets home too and it's a real memphis reunion. it comes out that craig brewer's "secret screening" is at the same time as Concrete, and this really pisses me off. there are so few hometowner features this year -- why would they put two of them at the same time?? morgan says that craig was pissed about it too, and asked the festival director to change the times, but he said it was too late and the schedule had already been published. i'm really annoyed, but morgan assures me that the audiences are different, that it won't hurt our screening, that we're gonna sell out anyway. i'm especially upset because the movie actually looks interesting, since it's a documentary about the memphis chapter of the black panthers and actually has nothing to do with nasty ole craig brewer.

brett and i piddle for a hundred years before we finally decide to go to kwik check for sandwiches. the stoner MCA student forgets my order and only makes us one sandwich, which i convince brett to split. leila stops by our table and says hi, hello, congratulations on the movie, etc. unfortunately she can't come because she's already told one of the Invaders folks that she'd be their date. we eat our sad cheese sandwich until morgan calls and says she's just gotten off work, and she needs to do some things at home, but she'll meet us in midtown soon. me and b make our way to playhouse, where we find free beer, friends, and film freaks milling around being awkward. we make sure we've strewn our postcards all over creation, and someone maybe even asks us about the film. we sit on weird chairs made out of tires. i kind of love them even though there's metal poking into your back if you lean at all. chris has a hug for us, and craig brewer even has kind things to say about the film. he promises to give me something (a shirt or dvd, perhaps?) but we never see it. when he asks what we're up to, i make sure to get brett going on his movie, which he immediately regrets, although i think he has the speech pretty down by now. even if the elevator pitch is still 100 words strung together -- it's the truth.

we head to my parents' house to pick up morgan and make the rounds. as usual, the dogs are freaking out and so happy to see us, and willikers makes something of an appearance, as well. we end up sitting in the den for way longer than brett is clearly comfortable, and eventually he drags morgan and me to a movie that's almost over, just to get us out of there. but it was so nice to sit at home and feel so cozy and chat with the rents about who knows what. goodbye to my kitty, goodbye to everyone.

we arrive for the third act of the movie -- a heartfelt comedy about gamer nerds -- and it's not half bad. it gets some chucks from our little corner of the theater, where ben siler has joined us after we come in way late. after the film, we stand around on the street corner while morgan stresses out about bekka and how to get her to find us. i am really looking forward to seeing her and trying to get morgan to give directions that make sense. she's so anxious that bekka won't be able to get into the filmmaker VIP party at the local, but i assure her that it will be a piece of cake. why so anxious, morgan??? what can i do for her??