and a year and a half pass

So much has happened and so much has not. I miss her every day. Every day.I have so much to say, but I write privately.

Something to consider:

Many people are awakening today to the idea that the animals who live with us are more than child substitutes, more than "pets". The term "pet" means an animal who lives with us for our amusement or as our companion. All animals are, in fact, sentient beings - conscious, intelligent, with life purposes and life goals. They are aware of themselves and of their situations. They make life choices. They often express unconditional love for the humans who are part of their families.

I love you my dear, and I always will. I will honor you to the best of my abilities until the day I join you, wherever you are.

I miss her so much

I know it's been 2½ weeks, but the pain is so very real. I miss her everywhere I go. Songs I hear that I've sung to her, places that she just SHOULD be sitting. Saying "kitty" instead of "kitties". Using the past tense. Why? What the hell? How could this happen? What if when *I* went in for a blood draw, had a panic attack (as usual), and the nurse came out and told my mother or my boyfriend that I DIED? That is what this is like. Priscilla is/was a person to me. Thirteen years of her was not enough, she wasn't sick, she was beautiful and full of love and life. We had PLANS. Yes, we talked often. Every day, most of the day actually, and it is very quiet here now. Buddy has been coming to sit on my desk now and then, but he is battling his own demons. All the shitty things I've been through, this is by far the worst. When I moved out on my own 9 years ago, I had Cilla and Buddy. I say, yes, I've lived alone for 9 years - it is an accomplishment to have lived an autonomous life, without a man living here for that long. However I was missing something important in my own observation. I was never really alone. Cilla served as an idol for me, she comforted my fears, she gave me direction, she gave me her strength and her energy. She was giving of herself to keep me alive, make me better, make me braver. She served as my "rock" in an ever changing world where my anxious personality has problems. I didn't give her enough credit, though I think I gave her enough love, I hope I did. The blame is starting to wane, thanks to the petloss support group I joined and my doctor. But the waves of pain and fear, even within the haze of the handfuls of pills I take, they are overwhelming. Overwhelming to the point in which I think none of my friends even want to be in the vicinity. And feeling alone is difficult. Luckily Eric has been there for me through thick and thin. Often not saying much, occasionally looking up a passage in a book he once read. Sometimes for his benefit and sometimes for mine. He cannot replace my Lady. And I am terribly fearful to trust any one with that much of myself again, much less a HUMAN. That's how I got in this position in the first place. I never imagined living without her, or at least when I did it was years off. I'm a fence post with no wires anymore, just balancing. Fearfully fragile. Fractionated. Susceptible.

my sweet lady, Cilla


the photo on her urn


I realize that
"Grief is the obverse of happiness. They are two sides of a single coin, and only the vulnerable know either."--Irving Townsend

But that doesn't make it hurt less, it just makes you realize that there are pathetic people in the world who do not actually live their lives because they are afraid. Yet this pain has created a fear in me that I've never known.

so much for this becoming a funny blog.

Shield of Serenity

A poem I wrote in October 2002

Shield of Serenity

I am lying here under a shield of purring serenity.
I shroud myself here, wishing I never had to leave.
I find myself returning here often
Because the outside world eats away on my soul.
Sometimes I think if I could escape here,
Enwrapped in the cool sheets and an ironic warmth,
I could burrow to another world,
One which I may actually relate to.
Taking with me my Bast messengers
They accept my world, they make it lucid, safe.
A world otherwise overtaken by fear and
A heart vandalized and abused.
I have given up trying to discern
Why I was chosen to be cloaked
In this darkness for this life.
Merely thin skin stretched over fire.
I feel at ease here, peaceful.
Tunneling under the cool covers
Feeling the warmth of the souls
Beneath my purring shield of serenity.

my princess is gone

My life has never hurt this much. I can't even begin to explain. 2/16/06. The worst day of my life. I miss you my sweet Cilla, Buddy does too. Life will never be the same.

My best friend died

Priscilla
"Cilla"
1992-2006

I really have no strength to write more at this time. My Lady, my Princess, my Strength, my Love, my Heart.

Sister and the Personal Ads

Ok, I'll give this a go. I've had many online journals before, but in no way could they compare to Jess's... But I shall try to find some humor here and there to share, rather than compose long drawn out entries of depression for the joy of others to wallow in with me.

My sister, unfortunately, is going through a divorce. I had hoped that I would be the statistic in the family, but unfortunately it looks like 2/3 of us will be in this boat. I'm very careful what I say, this is not the sis I've been on the greatest of terms with for the last 15 years. BUT, suddenly I am an expert on something: Divorce and Dating. I find this rather humorous, I don't think I was very good at either of them, but it's nice to be appreciated.

She emailed yesterday asking for advice, she's ready to begin the paperwork. Where does she start? I called the woman who so kindly got rid of my ex 8 or 9 years ago and we spoke candidly for about half and hour. I opted to call my sister to tell her the results of this call.

A little background: I have 2 sisters, this one is 5 years younger than I, and the other is 7 years younger. Each of them has two children. The asshole that left my sister when their newborn was 4 weeks old is now living with his parents. They've been married 9 years. I am, of course, unbiased about their situation. :)

So, in discussing these things with my sister she brings up a conversation she had with the other sister. The subject of dating. That she was in Wal-mart the other day and looked around at the men... and all she saw were disgusting fat, bald, hairy, loser-ish men. My other sister reminded her that the sampling at Wal-mart in the middle of the day is NOT exactly a random sampling...

She asked me the sites where I used to meet men before I met Eric, so I gave her some tips. Suddenly she sighed and said "yes, like anyone wants to date a 31 year old woman with two young children who is 20 pounds overweight and is lactating. I paused for a moment, and before I could really think I replied with the candor I normally reserve for people who are nicer to me: "well, some guys probably really get into the lactating thing!".

After the laughter subsided, and I was relieved that she wasn't offended, she proceeded to tell me things I wasn't sure that I wanted to hear. I decided to listen anyway, just for fun. When we all went up to visit my dear Grandmother a few weeks ago she told one of my nieces to never let anyone "swipe her twinkle". We three perverted sisters all discussed this on our drive home and it decided that it just somehow sounded dirty. And so it became dirty... And, yesterday being Valentine's day, yes, Eric swiped my twinkle. :P And before I hung up the phone I bid my sister good evening and a fresh supply of batteries.

Me and Eric & Me

me & Eric

My favorite Bast Picture

But I don't own this one. I shall take a picture of my collection some time.


bast1