Welcome to sunny Seattle

Hey New England? I get the whole “my prerogative” thing you’ve always got going on, but this is getting a bit ridiculous. I mean… It’s been raining for two weeks already!

Welcome to sunny Seattle

Melissa needs Summer to REALLY be here, okay? Okay?? Really. Thanks. Thanks.

Either way, it is June and things have definitely slowed down on this end. I’m back to working just ONE job, as opposed to three, and I’ve got to be honest: I’m enjoying having a lazy morning here and there. I couldn’t imagine having Jasper with my Springtime schedule; I’m really glad things have calmed down enough for me to keep him, because I sure do love his furry little face.

Life’s been interesting, otherwise. I have a frustrating crush on a boy, a select few of my friends have decided to dip into the catnip themselves, and the entire prospect of my future (which is coming as soon as September, quite frankly) is utterly, exhaustingly stressful. And I’m broke. There’s always that. BUT! I just reserved a campsite at the beach for two days in August, and I’m excited about the potential for doing nothing but eating strawberries, reading a novel and sunbathing. Even if it IS just Long Island Sound, and let’s face it — that water is NOT swimmable, folks, don’t kid yourselves. But still… Sun. Sand. Strawberries. The ultimate trifecta of relaxation. …Or so I shall tell myself for the next two months.

On that note, it’s off to work.  Expect more updates here, now that things have settled down. I’ll even shoot for interesting content! ;)

Two weeks later: Recuperating.

I’m off for three days, and at this point -5pm on the first day - I have slept in, watched four episodes of Ballykissangel, had some quality playtime with Jasper, ate some yogurt and showered. Too bad it’s the first beautiful day we’ve had this week - I have no plans to leave the house at all this evening.

I will, however, be cleaning up a storm, because as fun as life with Pumpkin had been over the past two weeks, it has also been very, very messy. My formerly impeccably clean bedroom looks like it’s been ravaged by a hurricane. A category 5, named Jasper. He’s small, but wily.

So Im off to spend some time with “The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane” while my hair dries.

I won’t hazard a guess at what the little one will get into in that relatively short time period.

Wish me luck? ;)

Love at first bite: Day 3

Greta Garbo kitty, originally uploaded by Mad-Eye Melissa.

So the hissy, spitting kitty of Thursday and Friday has been replaced, thanks, I’m sure, in large part to a healthy dose of Lickin’ Whiskers cat treats. …Or Whisker Lickin’s? I can never keep these silly names straight.

Either way, Pumpkin and I are officially Getting Used To One Another, with a touch of Getting To Know One Another and a good amount of Getting To Like One Another. (It’s more of a “love” thing on my end, but don’t tell him — I hear a girl’s supposed to play hard to get.) For example, he’s totally cool with biting my toes at the slightest provocation and climbing the obstacle course I’ve set up for him, and I just rolled him back up onto the bed when he decided that hanging off upside down by the one claw that had gotten stuck in my blanket was a good idea. For the record, he *doesn’t* always land on his feet.

I was gone for a solid 6 hours today, and I decided to let him roam freely… Which he did, much to my pleasure, with no (identifiable) mishaps. I scratched behind his ears a bit (hello, dog?) when I got home and let him get re-accustomed to my presence, and then I fixed up his collar and lead and took him outside with me. He got the tour of the backyard, complete with the smells of my herb garden (”Look, Jas, this is cinnamon basil…And sage… And lavender…” Yeah. I totally did.), an EXTREMELY distant introduction to the pitbulls who live next door, and a romp in the grass — which he seemed to totally enjoy (he is a stray, after all) until the breeze started blowing, at which point he catapulted himself into my lap and hid his head in the crook of my arm.

After that, I may have left him to his own devices a bit too long while I caught up on my blog reading… After about 10 minutes, he decided it was high time to execute his own brand of sneak-attack on my knee. Ahhh, Jasper’s Teeth, how I’d missed you.

Right now, he’s jumping back and forth behind the screen of my laptop, and I think we look a little bit like we’re trying to pull off a Chinese fire drill. He is a special cat. The word “hellion” also comes to mind.

But at the end of the day, I have learned a couple of things about my Pumpkin:
- First, don’t leave him in his carrier longer than he wants to be left in it — you will get a barely audible hiss and a look that plainly says, “And you’ve been where?”
- Second, he sees things. Things that no one else sees. I think he has long conversations in his head, with these things.
- Third, he DOES like having his “kitten belly!” tickled, even if only because it gives him a reason to wrap all four legs around your wrist.
- And last? He will stop anything — ANYTHING — for a cuddle, especially if he’s guaranteed a kiss at the end of it. He is a TOTAL cuddlebug…

sleepyjas

Love at first bite

The little vampire, originally uploaded by Mad-Eye Melissa.

This is Edward. Or Bella. Or Rosalie. Or just, as I’ve been calling him, Pumpkin. The Wretched Little Vampire.

But really, how could you look at that face and think “wretched” when you’ve got roughly 60,000 painful scratches all over your hands, arms and belly, and a wicked bite mark on your knuckle? …Oh, wait.

Actually, though, I am kind of in love with that face, and the sleepy eyes that kept closing tighter and tighter as I whispered, “S’all good, little vampire kitten! You are going to have the best little life ever! Go sleepies.” (Because “go sleepies” is a cure-all of a phrase, in case you didn’t know. So now you do.)

I had a girly day, today, complete with eight minutes in a tanning bed, a manicure and a trip to the mall, where I used my Express gift card. I had decided to do a lap or two around H&M when my phone rang. “Why’s Alicia calling me?” I thought. “Hope everything’s okay…”

As it turns out, her husband had discovered a litter of stray kittens behind an old (closed) restaurant , and she was calling to enlist my help in rounding them up.

I snatched this one out of a tree, and let me tell you, it was not all “awwwe’s” and cooing. The little bastard put up one hell of a fight. I respect that, actually.

My first instinct was to leave the kittens to their mom, but the others of the litter had disappeared; this little guy was either left behind, or he had lost his way. People in the neighborhood who stopped to watch (watch and laugh. Notice how I didn’t say “help.”) urged us to find all we could and get them out of there; they said it was kind of a rough neighborhood, people AND animal-wise, and the little ones probably wouldn’t last long. This guy looks like he’s lasted a solid 8 weeks, but who am I to turn my back on a kitten that’s gotten himself stuck in a tree? Because he did. And he was *wailing.* And I’m a TOTAL SUCKER.

He’s with Alicia and her daughter at their house tonight, and tomorrow we’ll see about getting him the appropriate care and shots. We’ll also see about getting Alicia and I the appropriate care (and shots!), because we were both bitten. I got it easy, next to her; he clamped his little teeth down and would not let go. Her scream brought the woman in the closest house running outside in a panic. It was actually pretty hilarious.

Stay tuned for Crazy Kitten updates… For now, it’s off to finish the work I didn’t do while I was traipsing around amongst broken liquor bottles and Whatchamacallit wrappers. …People who litter SO suck.

Just living with it.

“You do your best, and you live with it.” ~ Sandra Day O’Connor

I’ve been wanting to write something here… Something witty or clever or interesting. I’d even settle for a befuddling, head-scratcher of a post as long as I thought it might just engage somebody. But I have had a couple of pretty big bombs dropped on me this week, and while they aren’t entirely bad ones, they’re heavy. And I’m struggling a little bit under the weight of them.

Everything is okay, and there’ll hopefully be some positive outcomes, but for right now — I got nothin’ for ya. ;)

For now, enjoy this photo of the cute new shoes I bought for $12 at Payless last week. Score!

Shoes!

Adventures in Domesticity? Ain’t that the truth.

Things I have done today:
- laundry, three loads (including the bath mat, which I think deserves extra points. Just sayin’.)
- scrubbed the bathtub (and the kitchen sink) with this amazing stuff. Thank you, Mrs. Meyers!
- used afore-worshipped product to soak shower-curtain liner
- weeded an old container herb garden left behind by the previous owners of the house I live in
- took out the trash
- downloaded three CDs that I just had to have, from These Green Eyes and The Smyrk, two local bands who are completely amazing. (Definitely check those links out!)
- reorganized my tupperware and baking supplies
- swept the floor(s)
- two loads of dishes
- …baked! those lovely buggers pictured above (which just happen to be banana coconut cupcakes with chocolate frosting) and separated them into three boxes for my coworkers, my family and my friend and his roommates, who I’m going to stay with tonight.

And you want to know the scariest part? I have totally loved my day so far — especially the cleaning. I know, right?? What a freak I am.

Anyway, Happy Memorial Day, everyone! Enjoy the long weekend, if you’ve got one. I’m off to Boston. :)

Happy 102nd, old girl.

“Life is to be lived. If you have to support yourself, you had bloody well better find some way that is going to be interesting. And you don’t do that by sitting around wondering about yourself.” ~ Katharine Hepburn

I can’t think of an actress I love more than Katharine Hepburn. Even my Ginger, who I adore, is really just an extremely close second — at the end of the day, it’s Kate’s humor, her sharp tongue and frank honesty that wins me over, every time.

Katharine Hepburn brought strength, dignity and intelligence to the image of women on the silver screen; she chose to live her life her own way, refusing to bend to the norms of her time — and refusing to feel ashamed of her choices. She was warm; she could be severe; she was hilarious; she could be vulnerable. Her every character was brought to life by the very same spark she personified every day.

So this is just a quick post to say “Happy 102nd Birthday!,” to honor one of the greatest actresses of the past century, and to say “thanks” for the trailblazing.

The Philadelphia Story

Why I’ve never needed drugs, Exhibit #1

Weeding through old files tonight, and found this — a dream recap from 2003. It’s trippy. Enjoy!

“June 27, 2003:

“I guess I don’t really remember much about this dream I had last night, but I remember enough to remember I had it, and that I thought it was cool enough to remember to remember. But I guess I forgot, just the same. I’ll try to describe as much of it as I can, though… It was kinda funny, if I remember correctly, and only a small bit bad, though I’m sure it would’ve gotten worse had I stayed asleep longer.

“So I don’t remember how or why, but for some reason, I was in an auditorium quite like Sheehan’s with many, many teenagers… Personally, I think I was probably with Kerri or Sara or both, but I was weeding my way through everybody to find my cousin Katie. At one point, I found her with a group of her dream-friends (meaning, friends that my subconscious assigned to her), and we started talking, blah blah blah. I really don’t remember what we talked about. I remember that she had one cute little blond-boy friend who was gay, and he was sweet, and I liked him. Maybe he twirled. I really don’t know.

“Anyway (and I’m not sure of the syntax of all of this, by the way), at another point, my friends and I were sitting in a row of seats in the front of the right-hand section, and suddenly, the Hanson boys began to file into the seats behind us. (Hanson?!) At least Taylor and Zac. Once again, Isaac gets the dream-shaft. He may have been there. I don’t recall. So we start talking, and for the rest of this dream, we’re all buddy-buddy, and I’m totally getting along with Taylor. Like… Comfortably! None of that “giggle-giggle” shit, we’re talking like old friends. He gives me his phone number at some point in the dream, and it’s this 1-800 number. I’m thinking it’s a brush-off, and I tell him so, extremely irritated, since it isn’t like we’ve been talking like a star to his fan. I either said or was just dream-thinking that he shouldn’t be so picky/arrogant, since he was just a big nerd, and he should just appreciate anyone who honestly enjoyed his company. (Bwaha.) Anyhow, he assures me that I can reach him at that number and not to worry, and as it turns out much later, I sure can. So I was glad, and my “peevedness” was allowed to dissipate. Relief, that.

“So rah, rah, the dream progresses, and suddenly - There’s a tornado! (Wtf. But an interesting part of that is - I had forgotten until this morning that June 26th marked my first Hanson concert, in Boston back in ‘98. During that concert, there was a tornado warning issued for the county we were in. I was reminded of it all when I woke up and read Jeana’s journal entry from yesterday. So… Whoa.) We’re all chilling outside, in this city between these big buildings, standing in a circle. So Sasha’s in this dream now, and I don’t know why, but she’s just babbling, which she doesn’t do in real life at all. So it was funny, and it made me realize that I miss her muchly. teehee.

“Now, I don’t know if there was some reason we were standing in this circle… Maybe we were going to pull some “Secret Circle” business and try and stop this tornado, but whatever the reason, we completely forgot about it. We were all just chatting it up, me and Kerri and Sara, Katie, her friends and Sasha and the Hansons and - evidently - some school administrators, watching this huge, black funnel of wind come barreling toward us, picking up buses and office buildings as it came. Easy to forget. You know.

“Then came the aliens. (Aliens. For krist’s sake, aliens.) Only, I’m not sure the Little Green Men ever *really* paid us a visit… It was sort of “Independence Day”, with these piercing-yet-pastel-colored rays that shot out everywhere. And for some reason, Sasha was looking to “Collect All Four!” colors-wise, and she wanted desperately to get sprayed with the gunk the colored rays were… emitting. So the rest of us are like, “Dude, Sasha, you’re so lucky! We want to get sprayed with that nasty gunk, too!” (Insert an eye-roll here, by the way.) We’re all running around like morons, contemplating the coolness-factor of getting in the way of this stuff, trying to decide what colors we want, and all the meanwhile, the damn tornado is just flip-flopping and zig-zagging around the city. Maybe it thought we were cool for our involvement with the gunk, too, and just left us alone for a while, so when it finally ate us, it could eat the colors at the same time. Who knows.

“I don’t know what else happened. I remember a classroom, some bathroom stalls, and a few X2-like sequences. Zac was the cool Hanson brother, and he probably got along very well with Katie, and Taylor was the dork that I gravitated toward. And oh-ho! He wasn’t married or the father of two children in this bad-boy of a Blockbuster Dream, either. Dreampoints, Taylor. Dreampoints for that one.

“If I remember anything more, like while I’m in the shower or something, I’ll have to add it on, but for now, I’ll leave it at that. I woke up laughing mostly because I had gotten Taylor Hanson’s phone number, and it was something like, “1-800-PISSOFF”, but it was, indeed, his phone number. That, and I miss Sasha and Kat both, and good lord, do I have strange dreams.

“Hey. At least it wasn’t a nightmare tonight. :D”

On trying to change everything (at once)

“Each of us has that right, that possibility, to invent ourselves daily. If a person does not invent herself, she will be invented. So, to be bodacious enough to invent ourselves is wise.” ~ Maya Angelou

Anyone who’s read this website at all for the past couple of weeks has, I’m sure, gotten the strong impression that I’ve been sick. Obnoxiously so, actually, because it’s been one post after another of some serious whining — one post after another to comemorate my one sickness after another.

And let me set the record straight: Yeah — I think it’s just as weird as anyone else does. And I find it just as annoying.** Moreso, in fact, because it’s my life that’s being interrupted and my bank account that’s dwindling in the face of doctor’s office visits and medications. But I am assured that there is no underlying illness or condition responsible for this string of The Sick; it’s apparently just “stress” and “not taking care” of myself.

And all because I thought I could really do something for myself by taking on these two internships.  Go figure.

To say that I’m frustrated would be a complete understatement. Last year was clearly pretty rough on me, and I’m not sure I’ve even fully recovered, as yet. It’s been so long. It’s felt so long. The time itself has flown by, but I’ve been chomping at the bit to just be better, and that has yet to really happen. I’ve had my moments, don’t get me wrong, but I’m still operating on 60% of my usual energy.

So here I am… Fresh out of sick days to take at work, looking at a (somewhat disjointed) Personal Leave because I just can’t keep up the pace. Because I need to get better. Because if I have to start one more course of antibiotics, I might really lose my crap. And nobody likes the girl who cries in the pharmacy line at Rite Aid, let’s be honest.

Part of me knows better than to feel like a little bit of a failure; there’s another part of me that just can’t help it. I tried so hard… And while I don’t regret a moment of it, I know in my heart that trying to keep up this pace for the summer just isn’t the right thing to do. I feel like my body’s trying to tell me that I’m concentrating, now, on the wrong aspects of my life. And I think that’s okay. I think I’ve covered enough ground in the past few months to be able to take a break. I just have to navigate my way through the next couple of weeks, harvest that me-time and start focusing on — oh, let’s just say it, cheese and all — the parts of my spirit that need repair.

I’ve been looking for a little bit of help, and I’ve found bits and pieces in a few (unlikely for me) places…

* Eat, Pray, Love I got really annoyed, yesterday, when I overheard a customer telling another customer that this book was such a “light, easy read that really doesn’t take much thought at all — and then she finds love!” Listen, I know this book took the Soccer Mom demographic by storm last year, but that doesn’t disqualify it from being actually thought-provoking, thank you very much. Liz Gilbert is a wonderful writer — she’s extremely witty and yes, she delivers everything with an ease and lightness that is completely engaging, but you get out of this memoir what you put into it. The author is a harried, Western woman trying to align her life with Eastern spiritual principles; it’s a great way to ease yourself into the process of looking for guidance.

* Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner This book is absolutely a classic. My copy, in fact, has a cover I can’t even find anymore. While I don’t currently consider myself a follower of any one religion, I’ve always come back to this book as a way to remind myself of the basic principles I stand by.

* 20 Something, 20 Everything I stumbled upon this book while straightening the Self Improvement section, and I’ll be honest — I have no idea, yet, if it’s worth the read, but I fell in love with the cover. (How peaceful does she look?) I’m only about 30 pages in, but so far, at least, this book is hitting on a lot of the stresses and pressures I and a lot of the other twenty-something women I know are feeling.

So if it looks like I’m in the middle of three books at once — I am! Because I can do nothing simply.

I’ve also started a container garden. I’m keepin’ it real, eco-Wiccan style. Yo.

Who knows if any of this will work… But I can only keep going from here, right?

Goodness.

** It always seems funny, to me, that some people feel so entitled as to judge someone else’s situation this way. Someone made the comment to a friend recently that I’m “always” sick — to which this friend took offense, on my behalf, because she sensed the condescension and is a right lovely girl, to boot. But really? Where does that person even get off commenting??

Oh hey, little gazebo, how’s it going?

We had a lot of pretty strong wind last night into this morning… This was the scene that greeted me when I woke up this morning. That’s my car parked out front of the house**, and the neighbor’s gazebo, which is usually — you guessed it — BEHIND the fence.

I had a dilemma, upon seeing this, since I figured it would take one more solid gust of wind to send that piece of wayward patio furniture right through the windshield of my car. And then I figured that gust would inevitably come as soon I decided to MOVE the car, resulting in my being attacked by said patio furniture.

Thankfully, not long after I took this photo, the neighbors noticed that their gazebo was escaping and lifted it back into their yard. (Secretly, I think it really was trying to get back at them for setting off some kind of low-height fireworks underneath it the other night. Weird. Very weird.)

** Please disregard the very long grass… It’s since been cut, and the neighborhood child who was lost in the yard? He was found, too. Wandering aimlessly through the jungle of reeds as they swayed back and forth, back and forth…