Nora, just keep repeating my mantra: "I'm the sane one. I'm the sane one." Let me know if I can help. I have written hundreds of obits, since I came up back in the day when newspapers actually wrote obits for everyone. (There were also paste pots, spikes, lead type and proofing upside-down and backwards. I rode a small, fuel-efficient dinosaur to work.)
Dear Dog:
Eating your dog bed makes you a less-than-desirable office mate. It is possible that adding a large pile of pillow guts to the mess already in the office could produce cold fusion. Also, it is no longer a washable dog bed cover after you chew the zipper off.
Love, Me
Me!
Come on by, there are plenty of leftovers in the fridge.
I'm sorry relatives are causing difficulties, Nora. Much intangible support and ~ma to you, until you can access a more immediate version.
I'm at work today, with much less motivation to actually accomplish anything than I would have thought possible while still remaining conscious. Yesterday I got to play with a puppy for a few hours, which it a wonderful way to start the new year. This morning I sent an email to my landlord to see about getting permission to adopt a cat. (He'll be ok about it, but he appreciates a heads up, and possibly a deposit, on this sort of thing.) This will be my first pet in a decade. I'm thinking Πwacket for the name, if the cat seems to fit it. What do y'all think—too cutsie and Prince-like?
What do y'all think—too cutsie and Prince-like?
Too difficult at the vet's office.
Too difficult at the vet's office.
Hmmm. Good point. Maybe something out of one of my fandoms. Not Spike, especially after reading about Loki kitty's adventures over in Natter, but that still leaves a lot of others.
Two cats names I loved (from friends-of-friends) were Panic and Hysteria. And the words "water & power" were on their food bowls.
I mention the vet's office thing because I had trouble getting the vet's office to understand that my cat's name was the Feral Kid.
If you spelled it Pyewacket, a vet in Your Town should be able to handle it. (There was a restaurant called that locally that closed, like, 15 years ago, and people still talk about it wistfully.)
Well, it was a pretty good restaurant. (Note: Calli = old) The main reason I'd give the cat the name with the Pi symbol is to go for the pun, alas. Which probably doesn't say much about me as a pet owner-to-be.
I should probably wait until I have the cat, and see what his/her personality suggests.
At least the worst that happens with Samathea, is that I have to spell her name every time at the vet's office, and every time she is there for any length of time without me, her carrier ends up with a Samantha name tag.
The general message I've gotten is this: "Yeah, according to an outside standard -- which is often arbitrary -- you're fat. That's okay. It's not a crime, it's not a moral failing, and it's not that easy to get rid of, but that's okay, too. No matter what your size, you deserve love, respect, to be treated like any other human being, comfortable airline seats, romance, and pretty clothes. And fuck anyone who says otherwise."
One of the things that I NEED to change my thinking on, is the idea of doing healthy things like eating good healthy food, avoiding food that makes you feel icky (i.e. junk food that may taste good but afterward make you feel drained and blah), and exercising - doing these things because they make you feel stronger and healthier and more energetic is a worthwhile endeavor, nevermind that your body may never be skinny. That seems to be where Kate Harding is. I regret to say that I'm still very resentful that no amount of careful eating or exercise will make me thin.
But when I first saw Shapely Prose, I hated it as much as I hated myself, so avoided it for about a month. Then I told myself, "Nora has a point, you need to read this." And at first, it made me uncomfortable still. But I kept making myself read it, and I'm more comfortable with it. This is not easy. But there is glacial progress.
