all of the stuff

So, I was talking to someone yesterday about all the stuff I'm doing and he said, "that's a lot of stuff!". I guess it is. I know so many people who are so busy, and maybe even more importantly, constantly TALK about how busy they are, and/or are raking in the cash, that I can't consider myself...that. But here's what I'm currently working on:

- CASA (and its various programs, including getting the two new social media people up to speed, which is proving somewhat challenging)

- getting ready to go to Chicago to run a panel at Acappellafest, so putting the panel together, writing the topics, finding rides and Rocco-care

- Jon/Viking Construction: admin stuff, designing his website, postcards, Facebook, and portfolio

- Vance: social media, correspondence and mailing list

- Honey Jo: monthly mailer and social media

- the band: rehearsing, gigs, learning, website, posters, social media, some booking

- Nameless: booking, putting together new staff, all design, selling posters, social media, etc. not getting much support from my supposed partner in crime.

- Inside A Cappella: associate producer for weekly video podcast (fast forward to the end if you want to see my credit)



- Womens' A Cappella Association: board and media (have to clean up the site)

also:

- finishing a site for a singer
- starting a logo for a festival

I think I'm forgetting some things.

your girl is lovely

Still thinking about Shirley a lot, and the hole she left. It feels like an actual piece of missing space. I don't know to explain it. Today I got a bill from the vet. It's been exactly a week. That means they got it into the mail within a few days. Wow. More sadness.

In addition, I found out that N is now seeing the one person I feared he'd end up with all along. Pretty, young, British, talented, everyone loves her. When all this was going on with he and I, I almost wanted to ask her (because I could tell she was interested, and for some reason, single), "no, not him. please just leave him alone. you can have anyone...", but there's no good way to do that, and she'd moved on from our mutual friend S (who was inexplicably not interested, I think because he really only wants to date locally), who she was originally interested in, to N, and made her move, somehow. I have no idea how things progressed or how he ended his own relationship (I'm assuming he did) with his gf AND HER PARENTS (where he's living, etc), but he's now in the UK with her, cleaning out her weeds and doing those kinds of endearing things. It just so happened that the day I found this out (yesterday), I also saw the episode of SATC where Carrie finds out that Big, who just couldn't manage to commit to her and so they broke up, is suddenly engaged to a 26 year old. And she ends up getting to ask him, "why wasn't it me?" and he says something like, "well, she's just...it's just easier" and she lets him off the hook by cutting him off.

So I know that it could never have been me. Not publicly. I'm an old lady, unsuccessful, and not what he's looking for. I was ok for a private...whatever it was, and for that I'm humiliated, and pissed off at both him and myself. The concept of me actually being desirable to someone that I want as well (or really, anyone) is fading fast. It doesn't even seem possible, and every experience like this makes it fade a little more. All I can think is, "of course. of COURSE he'd pick her. look at her." I'm an ugly old hag, and what's worse, I want to be wanted, and loved, which apparently is the strongest man-repellent that exists, and it makes you either invisible or disgusting to men. Unless you're her, in which case...you can have anyone. 

I miss her so much. It's so hard to wrap your head around the fact that she was there, and now she's not. She was there for so long, a part of me. And her sweet gentle energy all around...what other cat will ever do this?

Shirley

she's lying on me, as she did, even last night

In early 1999, I was looking for a kitten. I already had Kelsea, but wanted to get another. Kelsea, I think, was already sick, or soon would be. He died, I believe in 99. I went to the area shelters a few times, and told the shelter in town that I was "thinking gray". They called me a little while later to tell me they'd gotten a gray kitten in, and did I want to see her? Yes. She was tiny and timid and didn't like to be held, but was very sweet. I took her. She'd been found hanging around a gas station a few towns south, and they thought she was about 8 months. She was my friend from that day until today.

She didn't have a mean bone in her body. In the entire 14 years I had, I heard her hiss maybe 5 times, and only when she was very scared. She had absolutely no aggression in her. I continued to pick her up her whole life, and she continued to not like it. I don't know why. She would get all stiff and try to get away, but there were a few ways you could hold her that she'd like, especially if you rubbed your face on hers. She liked that. She liked to climb on the tops of doors. Yes, the TOPS of doors and anything high. In these later years, I didn't do that much, just to be careful of her. She purred constantly. If you were petting, she was purring. Sometime in our early days, I taught her to lie down on me and after that, it was A Thing. She always sat on me or laid down or wrapped her paws around me. Always purring. She liked to make a Shirley-nest and sink into some blankets and comforters, or on a stack of pillows, and lately there were some nights when she'd sleep on MY pillow, next to my head. She would jump up onto the bed right onto me (always with a chirp like a little bird), and sleep on my side, or stomach, or back, and turn when I turned.

She crossed over Kelsea, and Buford, and Rocco. She was timid in earlier years and would hide when people came over. But in later years, she didn't. Raymond rarely saw her for the first several years I had her. But then when my brother came here a few months ago, she was all over him. She was smart and knew several words, and liked to go outside with me, but never strayed far from the porch. Even yesterday she wanted to go out.

But she's been losing weight for the past several years, and each year we'd monitor it and each year he'd say, "well, she's still within an acceptable weight range". I finally did the senior bloodwork not too long ago and everything came out...normal. Which actually wasn't good, because she'd been drinking like crazy, which would indicate hyperthyroid or kidney issues, but that would have shown in the bloodwork. Weight loss and drinking and various other issues she was having (constipation, peeing outside the box, which she had NEVER done) indicated something far worse. But I didn't opt to do all the diagnostics (ultrasound, etc) and in July we put her on predinisone. She continued to eat (and drink), and did gain a little bit. But she also started breathing heavily and doing this...choking type sound, and even her purring - though still a constant - seemed labored. And she'd been spending time under the bed, something she only did under duress.

I took her in today for another weight check and she'd lost a POUND. In a month and a half. That is a massive amount for a tiny cat. And he noticed her breathing. He said he wanted to do a chest x-ray to see what he could see. Her temp was normal. The x-ray showed that she was "riddled with cancer", and though we could continue on with the prednisone or try chemo, etc. the prognosis would never be good. I asked him what he'd do and he said he'd let her go. I was there for it, but could not look at her after the life had gone out of her. I just didn't want to see her eyes without life. And as usual, doing these kinds of things alone makes a miserable experience even more unbearable. There's nothing sadder than taking home an empty carrier, alone.

She liked to have little conversations with me and would squeak when I talked to her. She would jump on the fireplace for "fish" (bonito flakes), whereas Rocco can't jump that high and gets his on the floor. Lately she hasn't jumped, so I'd give her hers on the floor too. She loved sun and heat, would lie on the corner of the bed nearest the heat vent, or one time, the cable box, or me. And anytime there was a sunbeam available, she'd be in it, baking her fur, stretching her arms.

Because I lost two other cats at age 10, I've basically been worried about her since she hit 10, even though she never had any health issues. In fact, I remember saying to my vet years ago how healthy she was, and he said, "a little genetic diversity goes a long way". She had a tooth that was loose and he kept telling me would have to come out eventually, but it never did, and so she never had any other health issues...until recently.

She was sweet and elegant and mine. Last night her purring was labored, but she was still purring. Her eyes looked sunken to me but it's hard to tell. Fur sort of disguises things. I could tell she was very very thin, but could not tell she'd lost that much more, and she was still eating. I didn't think today would be her last day, but I also knew it was possible. And for a minute when we'd decided, I thought I might pass out. But I managed to suck it up to be with her. She's a part of me, and I don't think it's sunk in yet that she's really not here. My heart is broken. Shirley Blue, I love you.

why all the slobber?

Well, the guy who unfriended or blocked me has unblocked me after I emailed him. We've gone back and forth (civilly) and man, the dude is really into his guns, and into knowing every kind of gun, and doesn't much respect people who don't have that kind of info. I'm unclear how knowing your gun parts changes the outcome of gun violence, but for him, it does. It just makes me sad, as a pacifist. There are so many things that scare the shit out of me (walking into a room of people I don't know, etc) and I'm pretty anxious, but I cannot imagine having to add to that being deathly afraid for my life at all times such that I thought I needed to be armed in and out of my house. I don't even get guns as sport: oooh, make things asplode! kill innocent animals we have no intention of eating!

-------------

Speaking of guns, sometimes I feel like the whole world is run by the psyches of adolescent (or younger) boys. Why, I wonder, do movie villains and monsters always have to be as DISGUSTING AS POSSIBLE? Why do they always have to be slobbering and sliming and shit? Why? Because the world is run by men who think like adolescent (or younger) boys, and that's apparently what interests them. Somehow that appeals to them. I'd rather watch someone have surgery than see a slobbering movie monster. I've been watching this show on Netflix that is a TV show from the 90s that I never knew about. It was on NBC, but noone I know has ever heard of it. It's called Earth 2, and it takes place mostly on another planet where a group of (mostly) humans from a space station have relocated to try to colonize. It's definitely...not good, but it's interesting. The acting is sometimes soap opera bad, and the special effects are hilarious. But I like space stories, especially lost-at-space stories, or stranded-on-planets stories. I think it's because I feel like so much an alien here, like I truly do not fit in, cannot make it work as a normal human. Anyways, there are several gross creatures on this planet, including the eternally slobbering grendlers. What's worse is that the humans find out that their saliva cures various illnesses, so they are sometimes trying to get at it. Ew. I just wonder what minds think up these kinds of things and why do they have to be as ugly as conceptually possible? What's the deal with that? Not that they have to look like rainbow unicorns, but that they go out of their way to make them disgusting...I don't get it.

I think there's a difference between maintaining a childlike wonder, and letting your inner child make your adult decisions. Are all of our decisions just we as adults acting on our childhood dreams? Related: how much of having children is just about being able to reenact your own childhood, and take care of yourself, with your own kid as surrogate, in a way that you wish you had when you were their age? Of fixing or repairing the things that went wrong, as you saw it? I bet that is a big part of parenting. That each time parents are nurturing their child, it's not all selfless love, but it's also about nurturing themselves.

throwing food, and words

Last night I had a dream that I was at some family event. A big group of family was there, like they are at Thanksgiving. And they were all broken off into smaller groups, and they were all talking about money. Who's making what, people were giving each other cash, plans were being made to go here and there, and there was no place for me. Eventually, I was so upset and distraught that I started throwing food (??) at the walls. Then people noticed, but not in the good way, of course. I went to go get in my car which was in the garage (funny, since my entire adult life I've never had a garage), but my stepmother's brother David followed me. He's a psychologist, kind of a stoner, a laid back weird dude. I really like him, but in my dream he was joking around and not really understanding how upset I was (which is probably what would actually happen). That's, thankfully, when I woke up.

I have to get a ticket to Chicago to teach next month. As usual, I'm feeling anxious about it. Last year, Kim had sciatica so bad that she couldn't walk the whole time I was there, was crawling from bed to bathroom, had to miss all the events, etc. And apparently she's having those issues again right now. I find it hard to believe there's NO TREATMENT for this, but that's what everyone says. It was terrible to see. And she just told me that she also is busy in the day AND the night of the event this year, so she'll likely miss it again. Crap. Do I even want to go?

------------------

Wow, I just got defriended by someone on FB. I think that may be a first. Someone who has had multiple protracted arguments supporting guns, letting people know he knows every detail about every gun (and using that as a smokescreen, eg "if you don't know that an X15 Glock has 20 rounds, you really shouldn't speak!"). And I've just observed, never said anything. This time it actually was a post by his best friend, who is, interestingly, anti-gun, and I posted something about how I was looking forward to the inevitable response from his gun-lovin' friend. And it was written in what I thought was a funny way. Apparently it was taken as a "personal attack" and I was immediately unfriended. Wow. Isn't that something 14 year olds do, and adults who aren't particularly mature or are sort of hair trigger (no pun intended)? It's just hilarious that this is a guy who has had uncountable arguments about guns, ones that go on and on and on, and my one comment broke him? Wow. Either I'm just a colossal dick in a realm I was not aware of, or he's a pussy. In any case, it does not make my feeling lately (well, it's a constant feeling, but it's been really acute lately) that I just don't fit in here, at all, any less.

do you see me?

A few years ago, Vance was pulled off a plane on his way to a gig. His offense? Reading a vintage (1940s) book about airplanes. Apparently someone else on the plane decided that because of this he was "suspicious", and reported him. And the story got a lot of press, and because all of his emails come to me, I read them all. There were hundreds. And the majority were supportive. But there were also what to me seemed like a surprising amount of "oh c'mon man" emails. Those were the ones that suggested that the incident was not racially motivated, that we're all subjected to the same suspicions in this day and age. And Vance is a light skinned black man with aquiline features, and could maybe be Indian, or middle eastern. On the other hand, he's about as "suspicious" as a kitten. He's incredibly friendly and gregarious, to everyone.

Now, noone wants to believe that race plays as much of a part in our daily lives as it does, including me. And I balk when people say that I can't understand something because I'm not x or y race. But this was so clearly a race issue. I've said more than once that I could have taken the same book on the same plane, and noone would have batted an eye. It wasn't an instruction book on how to bring down a plane. It was a vintage book about aircraft, as that's his hobby and has been for decades. If we could recreate the situation with me, or a white dude, reasonable reader, you and I both know that it would not have raised an eyebrow.

It was the "oh silly Vance, you're making this something it isn't" responses that were so upsetting, because it clearly was that thing (racially based), and it's hard to deny that it's that thing unless you have some sort of vested interested in burying your head in the sand.

I thought of this as I drove to my dental appointment yesterday, which takes me in a twisty way through old town M'head, and frankly, it's a shockingly beautiful drive. But the roads are very narrow (rev war era, y'all) and often only one car can fit at a time. As it was when I came upon a truck in front of a house, dropping off lumber or something. I didn't say or do anything. Just waited for a little bit. And there was a guy standing outside the truck who gestured "one minute". Ok, fine. And then the truck did begin to move. And the guy gestured for me to go, but he did it in a very annoyed way. I was very close to him as this is a narrow street. As I drove through, he continued to gesture annoyedly for me to go. And here's where these stories converge. Because if I told you that the reason he acted annoyed despite the fact that he inconvenienced me, was that I didn't fall in the spectrum of women that men treat well, you might say that I'm making it up. But now I've seen and experienced it enough to know that this is the root of misogyny.

Because men put women into a few categories (straight men, mostly. gay men either have disdain for women - ew, vaginas! - or think of us as their allies):

- spouse/girlfriend or other woman they've committed to
- grandma type (affection/respect)
- fuckable (want to do/have)
- unfuckable

And it's that last category that I'm apparently now in. And men make these assessments quickly and stealthily. Once they've categorized you as "unfuckable", all bets are off. They don't even treat women courteously. Why? Because there's nothing you can do for them (they think), and you don't trip that protective wire like the grandma category women do. And that's what this guy by the truck did. He assessed, decided I was in none of the good categories, and thus I was just an annoyance. Like he might treat another guy (which is also shitty, by the way. all the posturing and dude-ing about that men do to/with each other is creepy and sad).

This is so disheartening to me, for obvious reasons. Because I'm not considered fuckable or even treated kindly anymore, and that men do this categorizing at all. And feel they deserve the prize partner, that it's ok. They'll counter with "but all women are gold diggers!" or some such shit. Now, I don't know where all these gold diggers are, but I don't know one woman who sought out a man to marry or be with because of his money (or didn't get with him because of lack of it). THAT (assumption), too, is misogyny. That men counter with that (when called out on this stuff) because that's all they can think of.

Where are the men who treat all women like human fucking beings just because they are? Just basic kindness. I try to do that to everyone. And why am I not considered attractive anymore, and can I get it back? Talk to women my age and they'll tell you about being invisible. But it's so subtle that it's hard to talk about, and it's painful. And people are apt to do what they did to Vance: tell us that we're making something out of nothing. Really? YOU trying being invisible and you see how pleasant it is. And further, for me, you try being reminded constantly that you're unloved/unlovable, and see how that sits. Women in my age category who do have someone are buoyed by the knowledge that they have someone who loves them, so they may be more insulated to or not notice these slights. I see and feel the sting very acutely, because I know that in order to find someone, they'll first have to just SEE me, and that's proving difficult.

a few small repairs

Well, I actually did get my car back, and today, my money back too. But there has to be a hitch, right? And it's that my driver's side door is scratched. Significantly. I'm one of those people who knows every scratch on my car and if I put it there or it happened in another way. And these scratches weren't there when I dropped the car off. It almost looks like it had been keyed. And I said nothing. Why?

Because

I

cannot

deal

I can't deal with them inevitably insisting they didn't do it, and telling me if I wanted to leave it I would have to pay and it would take maybe another 25 days. I can't deal, after over two months of this ridiculousness. I'm going to let it go. Fuck it. I have the car back, it looks like it did right before an asshole with an aggression problem decided that a stop sign didn't apply to him, and I didn't have to pay for the rental, which ultimately cost over $800 (and the repair almost $3500). I'll leave it at that.

And in this week of repairs, I also got my broke front teeth fixed today. Both middle top front teeth had the bottoms broken off in some way I don't recall, and though it wasn't terrible (I've been living with it since the end of July, because this is the soonest they could get me in), I did have a horizontal gap that I didn't have before.

But it looks like this now. Even at the bottom, not jaggedy. No idea how much this will cost me, and he didn't even tell me. He just did it. He is an artiste. It looks pretty amazing. It may, however, break off again, as this is a precarious place to put this material, and I grind my teeth, but I'll be careful, and I'm taking my nightguard in next week so it will be adjusted to how my teeth are as of today.

Is this the most boring entry ever??

Feeling overwhelmed by all the things that have to be paid. Need a new phone, I really have to take Shirley in again as she's now had an eye issue that is just not going away. Bills, bills, bills. And it's starting to look like I'll need a new computer sometime soon. Or maybe this one can be upgraded? I'm not sure. Plane ticket to go to Chicago next month. And only small jobs lately. Well, as usual. I need to somehow charge more. Only 5 more car payments and then at least that money will be freed up, but then I have to start paying someone back money loaned, so not all of it is freed up.

TSO intel

Ok, supposedly I'm getting my car back today (again). We'll see if that actually happens. This is day 25. And over two months post-accident, so again I say: fuck you, Masshole truck driver. Seriously. Fuck you. I hope your insurance skyrockets.

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Here is some Sing-Off intel. If you don't want to know who will likely win (assuming you watch the show), stop reading now, though I won't name the group. I'm one of those people who likes to know how the magic trick is done, and in this case, I actually need this info in advance to plan CASA content.

......

ok?

(placeholder pic of Nick Lachay, who my friend Abbey tells me is truly dreamy in person, and very nice - she was just on "And The Winner Is" with her group - and she is not prone to gushiness. but that's what she told me...)

.............

It looks like the group that will likely win (and only the finale is left, and they're not doing it live this time) is NOT a group created by NBC, and NOT a group of sweet young thangs, but a group of middle-ish age guys, none of whom are supersexytimehothothot. and they've been performing for a long time, actually working on their act. So I think that's pretty cool. Though it does mean that in all 4 seasons, there will still have been only one woman in any of the winning groups. Grrr. But they haven't won yet. I think the finale's next week. I guess it goes to show that despite NBC's machinations and creation of pretty young groups, sometimes the cream actually rises.
And I don't think these guys are groundbreaking (though I haven't seen them on the show, obviously), but they're solid, and real. Will they draw or sell like PTX? Probably not, but it'll be interesting to see.

labor

Money not yet back in my account. I'm also simultaneously waiting for a Taskrabbit payment to appear that hasn't yet. All these systems that can take money OUT of your account within seconds, and yet when it's time to put it in....days and days and days, they can only operate on business days, etc.

If the appropriate way to celebrate Labor Day weekend is to labor, then I'm totally doing it up!

- I designed a book cover for (what I think is) a mystery novel (see below). This is one of those situations where I'm mostly facilitator. So the end result is, I think, pretty cheesy, but at least it's well done cheesy, and they (the clients) love it.

- lots of CASA stuff

- set up mailing list for band; publicize. create signup sheet. wanna sign up? click here

- monthly mailing for hairstylist

- initial setup of new site for a singer

- more Nameless stuff

- some cleaning (yuck)

I talked to my dad and he asked why I wasn't doing anything for the weekend. I have no good answers for those kinds of questions. I don't think anyone who's not single can understand how single people of a certain age are excluded from things, or if not actively excluded, just not included, because couples do things with couples and parents do things with parents. I try not to think about how sad it is, but that's hard since I'm so painfully self aware. Just trying to keep busy. 

reversal of fortune

To recap:

- rear-ended by a garbage truck on July 3
- driver claims it's my fault and that I hit him; his insurance company backs him and refuses to pay for my rental car
- everyone else realizes I'm not at fault, including my insurance company, who pay for the repair and waive my deductible
- I send letters to the board of insurance, to the truck company's insurance company, to the town that contracts the truck company, to the truck company, and to the BBB. I gather reports, I talk to officers, I talk to my agency and insurance company over and over and over
- car goes in on August 12, because the truck company's insurance company had not yet made their decision about liability and said they had no deadline when it would happen (eventually denied for the shadiest of reasons)
- I tell body shop guy I can only afford rental for a week. he tells me it will be done in a week
- that was August 12. Today is September 1

He told me several times it would be ready, then at that time it wasn't. This story goes on and on in many layers. I will not bore you with the details. On Thursday he said it'd be done the next day. The next morning the truck company's insurance company calls me to say they've changed their minds and that they will accept liability. That they got my complaint to the board of insurance and re-looked at the police report and changed their minds. In other words, they didn't want that black mark on them. Or something. But I think we can safely say it wasn't a fit of conscience.

I talk to the rental company, who talks to the insurance company, and they're hooking up their systems, and eventually, hopefully soon, I'll get the money back that they've taken out of my account for this rental, currently at $500. At 4pm, the body shop calls me to tell me the car's now painted, but the paint's not dry, they need to put the glass back in (?) and it won't be ready. Call back Tuesday. And frankly, as long as I get my money back, they can keep it for as long as they want, but what the fuck is taking so long?? And how is it they have miscalculated several times now when it would be done? How do they run a business like that?

I guess the upshot is (and I say this a bit reluctantly, because until that money's back in my account, I don't trust anyone here) DO NOT FUCK WITH ME. I will work every angle if I think I've been wronged, and I won't let people or companies get away with shit that they shouldn't be getting away with. Doesn't always work, but I will give it a good try. Lessons learned: have rental on your insurance policy, because even if you get rear ended, it might not be smooth sailing.