Orange, yellow, red

I gotta admit: as much I as I loathe this time of year, the foliage is always an eyeful of majestic Mama Nature. Just driving in to work makes me want to focus my digital camera at some of that awesome color. I'm no shutterbug, so I couldn't possibly do the scenes justice. Instead, I watch and sigh; every once in a while I wish I had some thermo clothes and some good L.L. Bean hiking boots, so I could climb an upslope hiking trail. I don't mind doing the small mountain hikes (I did one last year around this time in CT) but I'm not nearly relaxed enough to enjoy the annual show this year. All that silence would just create a vacuum for my worries and problems to eat at me with all the voracity they can't have when I'm focused and busy with work.

I've been driving this past month, using Sonny's car. He's a total babe for letting me. I mean, when I have a kid, Satan might be down there catching snow flakes on his tongue before my kid slides behind the wheel of my vehicle. I guess that depends. Some kids are totally responsible and listen to your every direction, and then you have some that only want to know two things: how do I go and how do I go faster? I'm no speed demon. I only wanted to know two things when I first got into a car at 16 yrs old: How do I stop and how do I put this bitch in park? I must say I've come a long way. I'm one of those annoying people who hover their foot over the brake pedal and start using it kinda far away from a stop sign or red light. But I'm super-cautious. Not a damn thing wrong with that.

Believe it (or not) I'm still muddling through post-wedding bullshit. I only just the other day got my name changed with Social Security Administration. Finally, I can ditch the confused limbo I had been dealing with! My marriage license said one name, and I referred to myself by my maiden name. Well, now my only worry is to fix my name everywhere I use it, such as the bank, credit cards, etc, etc. And my matron-of-honor is still steadfast in holding on to my shit! I mean, come on!! It's practically frigging NOVEMBER and I STILL haven't seen the guest book. Right now my aunt/matron of honor is sitting on it, after she promised to have it shipped to me well over a month and a half ago. That coupled with my attempts at getting settled at my new job is killing me. I go to bed exhausted beyond belief, damn near everynight. And of course I'm homesick and wishing I could be with my family this Thanksgiving.

In other news, I'm getting pumped and psyched and all that good stuff. **does the punch-and-weave and the Boxer shuffle** A friend forwarded me something extremely cool. I'm beating myself with my Daily Planner for not knowing about this. November is National Novel Writing Month. There's a literary marathon raging. Starting November 1st, contestants log in and start to write a novel and must be finished by November 30th. AWE-SOME! Ok, so Sonny's not so excited about this (thinks it's a waste of time to some extent), but I'm gung-ho and a bag of Doritos, man...with a jar of salsa! This is for all those who have a novel in them, but don't have the "time". Well, armed with 50,000 words and 30 days, you've been given the time. Deadlines are magical, wonderful things. You never know what you got in you until you've got a deadline. So, I happily doodle my character's face and do extensive research for a name and wait for November 1st to arrive.

Hey...ya never know.

6th Avenue heartache...

My BABY...my kitty. Minette. This morning Sonny went down into the basement (where for the sake of our carpets and new loveseat, we must keep the girls) and found a bloody stool in her litter box. I'm out of it. In a slight shock. This afternoon I looked up some vets in the area and scheduled an appointment for her, Monday.

This will be the second loved one in a month who's been rushed to the hospital. My mom about 3 weeks ago landed in the emergency room with very unusual symptoms. She couldn't breathe, and she kept vomiting. She was dizzy as hell, and the medics were very heavy handed with her...pounding on her chest at one point to prevent something for collapsing in there. I only found out about it after she had already been in the hospital for a day . It disturbed me very much, but she recovered quickly with rest and a few doses of her beloved hospital food (she really does love the stuff). To date, they haven't found the cause of it...which does little to comfort me. I'm fucking 500 miles away...There's nothing I can do, I know. But it still bothers me. Ma's been epileptic since I was 10 years old. As you can imagine I learned very quickly how to administer her medication and how to prevent her from hurting herself during her fits. I've always been protective of her... ::gosh::

I've got to think of something else for a little bit... Someone told me the other day that the trouble with me is that I'm "untrusting". I laughed out loud. Reread the message and laughed again. If anything, the trouble with me is that I'm too trusting. I want to believe the best about everyone. I'm prone to bouts of hysteria and delusion, during which I actually expect a "friend" to *gasp* keep a promise! I hope I haven't given anyone the idea that I'm a grouchy bitch who's looking to blame the world for what is probably self-imposed isolation. No. That's not what I want anyone to swallow. My gripe is with the people I do know. I don't expect a friend to plummet from the clouds and into my lap. Or even move right next door to me. The work that goes into any friendship is extensive, perpetual and not to mention, important. I know all this. But my policy is (and always has been) to know where you stand. Having identified your "proper place" you can either stay there or keep on truckin. I've never had any qualms about moving on. Call it a balance to my sensative side. My soul's self-preservation button. The only way I've weathered the ups and downs of getting-to-know-you. It's how I survived many a storm. Still. . .

?tienes espacio debajo de ese paraguas para mí?

Re-evaluation...

Married life so far has been interesting. I never knew I had so many different ranges of anger and frustration. And it's not directly instigated by Sonny. It's just the balance of things right now. Or should I say, the imbalance of things? The biggest thing I keep thinking about is the general state of my social life. Ok. I've never been much of a butterfly. I had one really good friend in NY. He was tough on me sometimes, could see my potential and never failed to point out when I was slacking. He was funny (I called on him through some of the most difficult times in my adult life and he never failed to make me laugh at least twice during the conversation). He was immeasurably cool. We could walk through the streets of NY with not a care in the world and possibly less than 40 bucks between us. No direction, whatsoever. And still, I would go home lighthearted and happy at the end of the night. My best friend? Maybe. 500 miles away.

I loved my co-workers at my last job. They were considerate and funny and the most compassionate bunch of people I'd ever met. It was non-profit work, and that generally bands together people of a like-minded state. We all hated the way things were and wanted to make our little dent in the wall of oppression and ignorance. But even there, among people I could easily have developed a deep sisterhood with... I hesitated. Never suggested a happy hour nip. Never came out of my shell...at least not enough. In retrospect, I had a feeling I wouldn't be there very long. Even before Sonny interviewed for his reporter position in Ohio. My intuition is pretty strong sometimes...I dunno. It would've sucked severely to make a very-best-friend in NY...FINALLY, and then suddenly I'm in Lorain.

Among the cool co-workers I occasionally email and my best friend(?) there are a few people I've become associated with. Associates. These are the people I invited to my wedding. The people who insisted they were coming (with a guest) and then never showed. These are people who don't understand I'm a human being. Not only that, I'm sensitive. They would call me up, individually, and suggest we do something. I would say "Sure". And then they would never show. Just like they did at my wedding. It just feels like I know too many people like that. Say one thing and then do another.

Or maybe I've just had too much coffee this morning?

Serena...She-demon!

Serena...She-demon!
Cute, ain't she? Well, that's what Sonny and I thought. She was great the first month. And then she turned absolutely insane. Pissing on the carpet, fighting with the other one, sharpening her claws on Sonny's favorite upholstered chair....Free CAT here!!! Get your FREE CAT!!!

Too cute...

Minette, posing for the camera
Now this one is a sweetheart. If you're wondering what's going on with the sudden interest in photography...well, I finally have a place to work my digital camera...if it's all the same to you. LOL. This is the "granola kitty" of the two. She's way low maintanence. I imagine her wardrobe would be sandals and tunics and yoga pants if she were a woman. I love this kitty!