She was cheaper than a shrink and better for my soul and body. I miss her daily.
I have had many cats and dogs in my life. I am not proud of the fact that I had to re-home a few, but I am proud that I always found them GREAT homes with cat lovers. In retrospect, I should not have gotten any pet when I had small kids and certainly not with an allergic and non – cooperative husband.
Nefer on left, Kashka on right. Taken in 1990 in Maine.
1976 – My 13th birthday. Nefertiti entered my life. I had wanted a horse (what 13 year old girl doesn’t?). Not something my parents could do. So this kitty entered my life. She ended up an 18# bad ass who moved from Texas to Virginia, to Michigan to Maine. She was diagnosed as FLV positive, and was on steroids awhile. I NEVER had to have her teeth cleaned. I had to put her down in 1991 (I was 26 and she was 13) and cried the whole time. I have regrets that I didn’t have the financial/life support to try and keep her longer. She had litterbox issues and to this day I feel like I should have done more.
In 2008, my divorced sister got me onto OKCupid.com, as she and her then 24-year-old daughter were on it. “It’s just a fun thing. Distractions are good for you right now,” she said.
So in June of 2008, I signed up. I lurked for a while, unsure of what the rules were and of what I wanted. I was 44 years old, had a full-time career and two younger boys to raise. Did I really have time for a personal life? And wasn’t I “unmarketable” with all that baggage?
And I bought the first year of an upgraded model, which you shouldn’t do.
That car, my 2007 Hyundai Santa Fe, is in my driveway with 77,190 miles on it. And it’s been one of the best cars I’ve ever had. I’ve never had a car this long : next longest is five years.
If you’d told me, back then, that I would still have it, and that my now 16 year old older son would be learning to drive in it and I would have said you were smoking crack.
I just might have it till the wheels fall off. My dad would be proud of me!
Most people are divided into two categories:
I am a mix.
And I take issue with the word “reason” in this question. “Reason” sounds like you have no say in what it is. That there is only one reason that is mysteriously determined by an outside force. Thanks to a friend’s son’s insight, I prefer the word PURPOSE.
Why? Purpose feels like I help determine what it is. Purpose feels like I have, not necessarily control, but “a say or an action” in what it is.
You know, I had a dream about this. But it was $29M. Not a billion.
I gave away most of it. I got to $12M left and ran out of things to do. And it included some frivolous trips and a dressage horse I cannot even ride.
I often say to people, “You’re on my list.” This is a good thing. I have a “when I win lotto list”. (I also have a “Who I will kill off in my next novel list, but I digress.). The aforementioned list pays off cars, buys cars, buys or pays off houses, pays off bills, sends people to Italy and Hawaii with me in a private jet, rents houses in Maine, and donates a shitload of money to charities (animals, schools, hospitals). And I would form one. “Car Angels”. Here’s how it works: I would buy a used car between $5-10K and then drive around town until I find and can stalk someone in a clunker. I would pull into a parking spot next to them and say, “we are swapping cars” and hand them my keys and $2000 cash for insurance and gas. I’d have a ton of fun because I love cars, and I love helping others.
One Christmas I bought a friend a laptop. She paid me back six months later. I so loved doing it and she needed it very badly. This Christmas I am doing something inexpensive, but very cool, kinda special and sneaky for a relative and they will either think I am crazy or be delighted. I can’t wait to find out which!
When I am driving around town (looking for clunkers to stalk) I often look at the sky and say, “I wouldn’t be a selfish asshole, or blow all the money on gigolos and cocaine or gambling. I just want to share it with the world in the best way possible.”
My poor cats. I am astounded that they have not developed poor peeing habits, or structured some sort of mutiny. I confess it’s not my favorite chore. It sometimes even makes me gag. (And I am a mom, who’s changed her share of poopy diapers, washed poopy clothes and both cleaned up vomit and held the heads of boys who are doing it.).
I have an alert on my phone. It goes off every day at 11 AM. Ha. I ignore it. Then I whine about (first world problem) doing it at night right before bed.
I am waiting for Mocha, the smartest of the three cats, to start writing me threatening notes in litter or poop pieces.
Sigh. If someone could figure out how to make this a fun thing, they’d make a mint.
“Thomas Jefferson supported rewriting the Constitution every 19 years, equated not doing so to being ‘enslaved to the prior generation’ – what do you think about that ?”
Wow would he be MAD if he came back today!!
This is the first reblog I have ever done. A fantastic read.
Get divorced popped into my head immediately.
It was horrible and wonderful, and horrible, and scary, and horrible and stressful, and horrible and humbling.
Horrible things were said and done. Accusations flew. I tried to float up into grace and class, but confess I spent nights in a bathroom on the other side of the house, bawling, away from my kids so that they did not hear me. AND spent a week in a psychiatric hospital for “situational depression”.
“You never really know who someone is until you break up.” <— man do I get that in a major way! Divorce isn’t like any other type of breakup and mine entailed 15 years of marriage and 20 years of knowing each other. We are tied forever by two (amazing) kids. This means the “break up” is never done, as in “I never have to see you or talk to you again.” There will be grownup kid major holidays (do we both go?) and birthdays, and trips and perhaps, grandchildren. Negotiating and navigating new territory as I age, he ages and the kids grow up will always be a challenge, and I cannot run from it.