Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and think, “I don’t recognize that face. That’s not my face”? I’ve been dealing with that for the past while, and I don’t have a clue if it’s because I feel I was a redhead for so long and I’m not yet used to the blonde/purple combination I have going on, or if I’m not entirely happy with the hair, or if I’m simply dealing with the beginning stages of dementia. Any of the above is a distinct possibility.
It’s been awhile since I’ve done a real – or much of any – update. So what to say? Digger had to go back into the vet for a recurrence of his stone/crystal problem, but this time he’s in for a few days of flushing and observation, and they’re sending him home with antibiotics – which they should’ve probably done the first time. Mom and I both felt that he was never 100% after his last visit, and we’re really hoping that this does the trick. He’s a young man still, only 12, and he’s my Digger-bubby, which means nothing, but is the nickname I’ve assigned him. All of my cats wind up with weird nicknames, because I am a demented cat lady who talks to cats… which you already knew, or suspected.
I had a bit of a debate/discussion with the most recent ex- about love and pets; his assertion was that I didn’t love my cats. Rather than get offended or up in arms about it, I simply told him, “If you don’t think I love my cats, go see one of them get run over by a car and see how I react.” Sorry, but I refuse to believe that it’s only possible to love people or family members or whatever – and I think he was saying that he didn’t love his friends, only care for them or something. I forget now, and for that I blame the cold I’m currently suffering through.
Oh yeah, fun day yesterday; felt fine in the morning, came back in from lunch and felt a bit of a sore throat. *sigh* I feel okay right now, but I didn’t sleep very well last night at all.
For the most part, my running has been doing well. I’ve seen for myself (and not just my running partner’s claim) that I’m faster than when we first started, and my stamina is improving. It’s still not fabulous, but I’m getting there – and I’ve even gone out a few times on my own and pushed myself. That’s what comes of having a running buddy, I find; when I go out on my own, I feel as though I can’t slack off, ‘cause I wouldn’t with a partner, so why should I when it’s just me? It’s possible I’m even starting to enjoy it, I’m not sure.
I’ve also got my bike back up and running, and I’m going to look into getting a new seat for it; my big ol’ butt’s used to the seat on my motorcycle (and lemme tell you, it’s nerve-wracking as hell going from 2 wheels = 500 lbs to 2 wheels = 5 lbs… you feel like you’re going to die!), and I’d like to get something more comfortable than the narrow gel seat I have now. I’m also hoping to get out to the skating rink on occasion when it starts doing free skates again, and I may even have company for that.
I suffer mightily from foot-in-mouth disease, and I often speak without thinking first. It’s part of my impulsive nature, I suppose – rarely are my comments meant to hurt. Over the past while, there’s a friend of mine who’s been inflicted with a rather serious case of this disease, it seems, and it’s frustrating me. I enjoy this friend’s company, and I want to keep doing that, but when this friend keeps making comments that either directly or indirectly attack my schooling, my friends, my dating history, or so on, it’s a bit challenging. It’s also seemed as though most times that I’ve seen this friend, this friend has dominated the conversation or social event, and that can get tiring when I’m not in the best headspace for it. For now, I just vent about it to another friend, but depending on how it goes, it might become time to say something. I’d certainly hope someone would if it were me.
I also had my first-ever entirely-my-fault near-accident the other day. I was behind a van from New Jersey, and we were approaching a light that was yellow; I thought we could go through, Jersey plates had a different idea. I threw on the brakes and clutch and stopped less than three feet from his back right bumper; it’s possible I could’ve moved into the other lane if I’d really needed to avoid him, but there may have been another car there (don’t remember). The best part? The adrenaline surge hit me after I’d finished my braking and such, and so as I waited for the lights to change again, I sat there with my hands almost shaking, realizing how close I’d come to an accident. It’s easy to get grouchy with other drivers when they try to cut me off or won’t let me merge or whatever (which happens), but this would’ve been entirely my fault. Live and learn, and wear your protective gear my friends!
The Pompous Ass is doing his motorcycle course this weekend, so I imagine he’s just bouncing in excitement. I remember going to bed the night after doing the first day (it’s all day Saturday and Sunday for the on-bike portion), still being able to feel the bike vibrating under me, and my muscles were still trying to shift and clutch and so on. Very strange sensation.
I honestly thought I had more exciting insights to offer, but I’m going to blame my cold-affected state. Let’s just say that overall, life is doing pretty well right now, and as long as I stop mentally assuming the worst about Digger, then it remains that way.
But I’ll conclude with an amusing anecdote about my mom, just ‘cause she makes me laugh sometimes. I was telling her about a boy I quite liked, and she asked me two questions: One, does he treat you well, because I’ve dated a few boys who didn’t treat me very well, in her opinion, and two, how tall is he?
Ah, my mom. Best wishes to her and her side of the family (as well as my dad), who are heading off tomorrow to bury my grandfather and otherwise have an outing of sorts.