Kitties, Chaplin and bangs

Today I got something similar to an idea for a post I can actually write (I got tons of awesome ideas for posts that somehow just can’t write). It may be just a tad lame, but hey, I once heard it’s better if inspiration catches you working, so that’s what I’m doing. Anyhow, as my title very subtly implies, I will be talking about kitties, and bangs, with just a sprinkle of Chaplin.

First things first. Yesterday, I went to get my hair cut, just a little trimming of my hair ends* really, and when I sat down on the chair and the girl asked me what I wanted to get done, I just couldn’t stop myself from saying: bangs! And so, today was my first day out with a bunch of hair on my face. Not particularly comfortable, but I think I’ll be able to deal with it. Today was also a quite social day for me, which I loved (not). First I went to have breakfast with some of the teachers from work. I really wish I could get more in-sync with them ’cause they do try to include me in their stuff, but I just can’t let go and open up, it’s really hard to let my guard down, and I’m learning it only gets harder with age. That, and the breakfast was stressful in itself because it meant I was in a social situation where I was required to eat. And boy if I did! Well, I guess objectively speaking it wasn’t all that much, but compared to what I’ve been eating lately it was a huge change, and it forced me to not eat anything else throughout the day except for diet coke and coffee.

This little issue reminds me that I had a sort of a sour session yesterday with Mr. Shrinky. He was fishing for details regarding my weight and what I’ve been eating, and I just wasn’t prepared for that kind of questioning from him. Mainly because I’m used to expecting those kinds of questions only from N, but also because I was upset he didn’t notice my bangs! I know, it sounds silly, but I remarked how unfair it seems that I notice every little change both in his office and in him, things that he’s even told me nobody else notices, and he can’t even notice that half of my face is covered in hair. It just made me feel like he doesn’t really care, like my assumption that I’m just the 5 o’clock appointment is true. This, together with the knowledge that I won’t see him next week because of spring break, got me in an I’m-not-talking mood, which isn’t exactly the most fruitful mood in therapy. I’ll see him tomorrow again before the break, let’s see how that goes.

After stuffing my face in the morning, in the evening I met a dear friend from uni (my only remaining friend from uni actually) whom I don’t see very much these days with all the things we both have to do now school’s over. We met at a midway mall ’cause we live in what would be opposite sides of the city if Mexico’s City were a normally sized town. We had a lovely chat. Not that we talked about butterflies and clouds, we actually discussed sad and angering issues, but it was lovely to share our mutual stuff with a girlfriend who cares. And then, though I’m not much a buyer ever since my depressive shopping-lollapalloza that’s still has me tied by the balls to the freakin’ banks (excuse my princess-like vocabulary), I agreed to accompany her to a couple of stores to get some stuff she needed, and that’s when the magic happened. I found the cutest kitten tee I’d seen, and just couldn’t help myself when I grabbed it and walked right up to the slaughterhouse cash register. As we were leaving, I found yet another item that seemed just perfect for me, a Chaplin tee! I’m a huge Chaplin fan, though I don’t own many Chaplin memorabilia, so I thought for a sec about taking the kitties back to get Chaplin home. I’m just not in a position to buy two things on the same day anymore, but before I made a decision my friend grabbed the tee and paid for it, she gave it to me as a birthday gift, and so I got out of there with two adorable pieces of clothing and with the feeling that my friend was trying to find ways to express she’s missed me and cares for me.

I know that this post is all over the place and serves no apparent purpose, but as I said I’m just trying to keep the words coming in the hopes that the good ones come back, I certainly don’t want to spend yet another week without writing.  Anyways, maybe wishing you don’t think you’ve completely wasted your time by reading me, let me at least show you what I’ve been rambling about:

Me and my bangs, together with the kitty tee:

The Chaplin tee, which I’ll proudly wear tomorrow:

Hope I’ll see y’all real soon!

Chatte

*Is that the way you call the tips of the hair? Being a non-native speaker, I sometimes get the idea that I use awkward, old-fashioned, or right out non-existent terms, so if you catch any one of these in my posts, do let me know, it’ll be much appreciated!

A little present…

Remember the mushroom kittens? Well they’re all safe and sound in they’re respective homes. There were 5 of them and they went to 3 different houses. They did leave a gift behind though…my boy Sylvester is still battling the skin fungus. I’ve given him meds, ointments, lotions, nothing seems to work completely, his natural defenses are just too low. And what’s really the worst part is that he’s always looking at me in the most suspicious way, like I’m always about to do something to him, and he gets easily startled, that makes me sad because I can’t even tell for sure if we’re done with the treatment or if he’s going to need something else. He’s been looking down and his eyelids had been red and swollen so I took him to the vet where they told me I need to give him shots in his eyes (though nothing else seemed wrong luckily) and they said it was probably a reaction to something. Besides, medicating this cat is almost putting your life in danger! lol

Last month he also came down with a cold, so it’s really been one thing after the other and it just breaks my heart to see that he’s not at his best. I don’t know if my writing shows it but from all my 4 kitties, he really is my baby. Right now he’s next to me (as always I might add), but he looks sad:

 

 

I know some of you have struggled to with your pets’ health, it’s a damn tough thing to watch them struggle isn’t it?

 

 

 

I’m not dead

It’s been a week since my last post. I don’t think I had taken so long between posts in a while. I tried to write a continuation to my “Daddy Issues” post, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. This past week was a particularly tough one, I had a lot of trouble finding meaning in my life and I couldn’t help feeling like a complete failure. When I sat down trying to write, it just felt like it was pointless because nobody would care, even if I had a lot of positive feedback from the above mentioned post and some people even asked for part two, I’m just too much of a coward to go ahead with it, so I guess I’m putting it off for a bit, just until I get my head around what I want to say and how I’m going to say it.

I’m starting to wonder if part of the reason I have trouble telling the deepest stuff about my father issues is because I’m afraid people will think I’m just a whining baby, maybe they’ll see me for what I am, a young adult who’s traumatized by events that aren’t even comparable with the horrors other people went through while growing up. Maybe I’m just waiting for someone to tell me, like my mother has for so long, to suck it up and get over it.

And hell, I haven’t even started about my mother, that’s gonna take a whole new level of nerve. I’ve been dancing about the idea of writing about my mother for a lot of time, and I know I’m gonna keep on doing just that for a long time before I dare to dip my feet in those waters.

Anyhow, I guess this is some kind of  hi-there-I’m-not-dead post, just to get back on track. I love this blog and I don’t want to get away from it for too long, and my writing prompt for today ends there really.

Oh wait! I have some juicy stuff! Ha, I’ve been so absorbed all week about not finding meaning in life, that I completely forgot to tell you that I finished another chapter of the Frankenthesis, and now I’m just half a chapter away from finishing it, yaaaay! I can’t believe I’m almost there, I can see the light at the end of this tunnel. When I’m done with it, I know it won’t be so hard to find meaning in stuff, and just enjoy life a little more.

In other news, we’ve got a new addition to the kitty family. Except…well… it’s not really a kitty, and it’s not an addition I agreed on, but since it wasn’t my decision to make (and I loove her cutie face), I’m just gonna see if me and my kitties can roll with it. Of course if kitties can’t adjust, I’m not gonna let this go by so smoothly, their well-being is my priority in this case. Without further adieu, meet… Lula!

Success! Well… sort of…

I’m happy to report that I’ve finished the chapter I was working on, I still have to review it, but I’ve done what I can with it and I’ve stopped being mad at my thesis. I’m gonna take the rest of the afternoon to do the proofreading and I’m gonna take a look at the last chapter missing, and if it all goes well tomorrow I’ll be working on it.

Today my horizon seems quite brighter than yesterday’s, I don’t know exactly what happened but when the sun went to bed, I completely freaked out, I mean, lost it. I Kept having SH thoughts that were kind of hard to restrain in some moments (though I managed to), and I just felt so terrible about myself for not finishing the chapter already. Then, when I wasn’t beating myself up I was busy being immersed in self-pity, I wanted to cry because things have been so hard on me, because I didn’t have anyone to comfort me, because I lost the first place in my class (yeah, that’s how much of a nerd and obsessive I am), I think I would’ve cried if Sylvester would’ve so much as left my side.

By the way, I haven’t talked much about him but you should know he’s my baby boy, the one that makes me look like a crazy cat lady (not saying I’m not), and the most spoiled one of my kitties too. So without further ado I present you, Mr. Sylvester Bombon:

But as I was saying, it all got better in the morning, ran some errands in the morning and when I started working on Frankenthesis I was on fire! I just hope I can keep up this speed, it’s be about time!

Back to where I started

I almost made it, but as the day closes in on me, I’ve surrendered. I managed to keep at bay all the dark thoughts throughout this cold sunny Sunday, but it’s stronger than me. It doesn’t matter that I don’t wanna think this thoughts because I feel them, right in the middle of my chest. It’s this pain that announces angst and anxiety are back and having a picnic on me. I wish there was a way of rationally making it go away, but there isn’t, at least I haven’t been succesful in any of my attempts so far.

It wasn’t all bad though, before the my demons arrived I managed to get some work and reading done (something quite unusual in me for a Sunday), and I think I’m even gonna put some words on the-thesis-that-must-not-be-named after this short hi-there-post. I think today was a little better because vacations are getting closer and closer. They’re the ones I’ve needed the most since I don’t know when. And what’s best, I won’t have to deal with Xmas and family. This year I get to run away and enjoy with BF at the beach, yay!

As for the mushroom kitties, I’m happy to report they’ve all been successfully neutered in a non-invasive micro-surgery facilitated by the fact that they’re all boys. Three of them have been moved to another temporary home since no matter how much I care for them, the levels of cat-crazyness were peaking over here with no sign on the horizon of a permanent home. It’s sad how picky people can be when adopting pets. If they are looking to foster a cat, how can they possibly care about it being gray or black, boy or girl? So I’m now actively searching for homes for these fungus-free kitties, before Mrs. Gobby truly convinces herself  she’s the mother of the remaining naughty pair.

How could you say no to these little faces?

Mrs. Gobby upon hearing she’s not the mother of the babies.

Random thoughts

I haven’t been writing in the past few days because I’ve been feeling like I have nothing else to say, guess I’m still in my meh phase, trapped in robot-mode, and I’m so sick of it!

Work’s better, with a little help from my partner I have managed to stop being late and go back to having enough time in the morning to get me some coffee on the way to school, which makes it easier to do my job. I think I’m getting used to it (I just started at this school in mid-August), but it’s still hard having to deal with it AND with my thesis, which is not comming to good (or not at all I might say).

The kitties are fine, getting bigger and stronger, they’re going to their permanent home this week, and I’m gonna miss them so much. With the help of meds they did beat the skin fungus, the bad news is now my cats have it and need to be medicated as well. Now that the babies are going I’ll have more time to focus on helping my cats beat it as well.

In other news, I’m thinking about quitting therapy. I’m just not sure it’s helping me anymore. The crisis keep comming and it’s been months since I felt I made some real progress. Also, I certainly could use the money; half my paycheck is going to my mental health, be it therapy or meds, and as much as I try to stretch the other half I’m just not making ends meet. It’s a very hard and unfair decision to have to choose between your mental well-being and your personal finances health, but I’m getting pretty close to having to do just that.

It does worry me that maybe I won’t be able to cope with my issues, but how not to be depressed if I’m not having enough money for my expenses? Money problems are certainly not the cause of my depression and I’m sure that even if I didn’t have issues with it I would still be depressed, but the problem here is that I don’t want money to be just another aggravating factor.

I’m just thinking out loud and probably won’t make a decision like that in the remaining time this year has left, but I am worried and it’s something that’s on my mind.

Angsty Sunday

I hate anxiety. Anxiety’s a bitch. Today I woke up thinking it was Monday and I was already late for work (this has become a permanent anxiety issue since I overslept). I couldn’t undertstand why I hadn’t done my stuff like preparing my lesson plan or taken a shower the previous night. When I started thinking about all the things I should’ve done but didn’t I started to wonder whether it was actually monday, though I wasn’t convinced until I checked my cell and carefully read what it said on the screen: Sunday, November 11th. I had to do it twice to be completely sure.

I wish my anxiety was at least reasonable, but what makes it such a hard thing to tackle is that it can oversize anything, and next thing I know I’m having chest pains without even kwnowing what’s causing them…or knowing what’s causing them is irrational.

I know for sure I won’t enjoy my Sunday like Socrates will, but at least I’ll try. Here’s him at hist max worrying level:

The kitten chronicles

We usually keep kittens with us until they are old enough to eat by themselves and have learned to use the litter box properly, which means they are boarders until they’re 6 or 8 weeks old, and then we find them a definitive home. However these litter came in with a little problem of skin fungus, and since they were too little to be medicated we hoped that with proper feeding they’d be able to fight it off.

Unfortunately this wasn’t the case, and since it’s growing and they’re already 6 weeks old we’re gonna have to start medicating them, and we can’t let them go until they have fully overcome this, mainly because the stress of moving to yet another place would probably affect their recovery. We’re gonna have to give them medicated baths as well as a cutaneous solution and hopefully that’ll be enough. Otherwise they’re gonna need ingested meds, which I’m really really crossing my fingers for them not to need it, they’re mere babies!

Here’s a picture of the whole litter (sorry for the low resolution pic), another one of three of them eating dry food all by themselves (!!), and one of the little one who’s got the worst share of fungus.

Cat Therapy

5 kitties just arrived! They couldn’t have come at a worst time, when my tutor is absolutely furious at me and I have a sh*tload of work to get done both on my thesis and at my job, but man are they beautiful!

I’ve raised quite some orphan litters, and now apparently my fame precedes me because from the last 5 or 6 litters, most of them have come from people who come and ask me to take them in…sometimes folks who don’t even make the title of acquaintances. And although I’m terribly busy and still somewhat depressed, I just don’t have it in me to say no to any kitty who needs love and nurturing, so I now have yet another thing to do.

Besides, I think taking care of them might end up being just what I need right now to get me out of my dark little self-absorption; truth is, raising kitties is one of the most rewarding things for me in the world, and it certainly is a small tragedy when I have to let them go, I don’t know how many more litters my heart can take…

I still haven’t taken a picture of them, but here’s one of my previous litter, my Napitos.

One does not simply “write” a thesis

You should know this post started out in Spanish. I simply didn’t feel like writing in English… or so I thought, and before my text resulted in a reasonable causality for a linguist’s heart attack I decided to go back to my adoptive language (still not sure of who adopted who).

I’m meeting my thesis director tomorrow afternoon. I’m considerably afraid of her. The worst part is that there’s no justifiable reason to do so. She’s not only an academic warrior and someone to look up to professionally, but also a very nice person, and whenever I come down with my regular this-thesis-is-a-joke mood, she’s the one to show me all the good things about it. In short, I’m scared of her and ashamed for being so. I’m meeting her tomorrow and as I sat a moment ago wondering what it was that made me so uncomfortable when she’s so nice even as she helps me work out every millimeter or my work, I thought that it really isn’t her whom I’m afraid of, but my thesis.

Grabbing it and working with it has become something similar to working with The Monster Book of Monsters (go google it…ready?…let’s continue). And when anyone tries to stick their nose into the matter, it’s usually on the tone of: it’s just a matter of sitting down and writing it, I just feel like paraphrasing poor tortured Tolkien’s Boromir and screaming: ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY “WRITE” A THESIS!, though what actually comes out is a low, pathetic little voice saying “yeah, you’re right”. Of course they’re not right! Are they? Well, maybe… The fact is the “writing” process is coming close to a whole year and even though I’m working in the fourth chapter, I feel like I’m moving as fast as Frodo and Sam inside Mordor (gosh..maybe I should re-name this blog: Almost Everything About The Lord of The Rings…) and yes, just as them, as I get closer and closer to achieving my goal, the task becomes harder and harder. So I guess what I urgently need is a way of dealing with my pathologic fear of my own thesis.

By the way, while wasting valuable time researching important issues on the web, I found this (though I guess my thesis won’t have tea and cookies with me anytime soon): 

And finally, to honor the actual name of this blog, I should report that exactly a week ago Mrs. Gobby was lost and found. She fell dow the balcony of her first floor flat and spent a couple of hours hiding in some bushes, which has resulted in her becoming the most spoiled and neediest ensalver cat ever.