Slow Start To The New Year

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In this episode: Lorelei discovers she may have a new spirit animal, finds she is losing patience with white fragility, and laments her lack of appreciation for brawny Scotsmen; if they are real Scotsmen (they may be American models in kilts for all she knows)

I Can Haz New Spirit Animal?

26165565_10209877033073681_7194738149102289868_nHaving an invisible chronic illness really puts a damper on my otherwise exciting life. We’ve talked about that before, right? Although, I suppose it is exciting never to know exactly what you are up to on any given day, eh? It’s like a spinning wheel of fortune at a cardboard carnival. Will I reach my destination today? Oh look, I won three whole days in bed, all expenses NOT paid, but a bonus party in my cranium! Hooray! A couple of things I can generally count on though: Chronic Lateness and Low Energy.

Messaging with to my roommate who was encouraging me to do…..stuff:

Think of me as a sloth person. I have a huge, “to do” list, but it takes me a full day to climb down the tree just to drop my weekly poo.

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And I realized that I had just summed myself up perfectly.

Damn.

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Best New Year’s Eve Ever!

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Prologue:

The year started off with a magnificent full moon, but I forgot to go outside and see it. It gave me an excuse to thank my friends for putting up with all my Moon jokes in 2017. On social media, and in conversation anytime someone mentions, the moon, regardless of context, I almost compulsively comment as if they are talking about me. My last name is, Moon, get it? My sense of humor is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it is not nearly as groan worthy as my father’s was.  I blame my, inner 12 year old, my favorite, “get out of maturity” card.

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By the way, this gorgeous painting is by an artist named, Jana Ireijo. It’s only $450. If I had a wall to hang it on, I’d probably be batting my eyelashes and saying, “please” a lot, right now.

Part One: Not Exactly Flush With Festive Spirit, My Inner Virgo, Pulls Out My To Do List

I have to say, I wasn’t sorry to see 2017 go, but I wasn’t feeling particularly excited about 2018 either. My situation is still a challenge, my soul still feels like it is weighed down by a stack of pianos topped by a vengeful elephant who is not tickled by the ivories! The ugliness that crowns our country is still swirling through it the way that murky flood waters churn, hiding shit and disease, dangerous objects and death. I don’t see much improvement on the horizon without a proper shakeup. Yes, it could happen, but I’m just not excited.

I was so, not feeling anything, this time around that I couldn’t even dig up a smidge of envy at the revelers gushing of their plans to party and dance the night away. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t feel up to making myself shiny and putting on a festive face. For once, the idea of kissing someone at midnight didn’t even glimmer in my mind. My loneliness was barely a blip on my radar. I just wanted it to be tomorrow already, to mark off another day of gears grinding. Honestly, my apathy was liberating.

I didn’t have any work, but I have been caring for my roommate’s cat. He’s been traveling a lot lately. He was home briefly and left again without buying cat litter and I had already used up the last of LiLi’s litter, adding it to his cat, Ichi’s box.  Things were getting smelly. I had to buy cat litter for both of them now, and so I ended up at Safeway on New Year’s Eve with two plastic jugs of gritty clay in my cart, while everyone else was buying alcohol.  You know you have reached the climax of full blown Cat Lady Spinsterhood when you spend your New Year’s Eve at Safeway, buying cat litter for your roommate’s cat. At least I put on lipstick and combed my hair first and I wasn’t in my bathrobe. Go me!

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As if restocking the cat toilet on New Year’s Eve wasn’t awkward enough, I happened to step into line behind a former neighbor in the checkout. Continue reading

Conversations With Opie

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I used to be smitten with a  pair of cats; Opie and The Mysterious Germoe. After a while a third cat, Funky Ear Tony came to live with them. They lived in a house called, The Fear and Loathing, in Oakland, California. Sadly, their parents distanced themselves from me and I still don’t know why. Ouch. That’s fodder for another, more serious blog, I suppose. It’s water under the bridge now because they all moved to Georgia and they live in a lovely house called, Hope Springs and I only catch up on their adventures through Facebook.

Anyway, Opie, a very floofy ginger, used to get his treats from a little egg that would roll across the floor. (I suppose he still does, it’s just that someone else does it now) They would drop out one by one and it was very exciting for him to chase them. (Exercise) He also has very thick Maine Coonish fur. This is a typical exchange. You will relate if you have cats, if you have cats with thick coats that toss up hairballs or have tried to take photos of your pets only to watch them move as you click the shutter.

ME: Hey Op. Now that you have had your “exercise” chasing the magic egg around the floor and gobbling the treats that fell out of it, how about you let me brush you?

OPIE: More treats!

ME: No Op. You got quite a few this time. I gotta cut you off! No exploding Opie, Ok? How about a good brushing?

OPIE: *Rubs against his Pet Nanny*  Lots of pets?

Continue reading

Conversations With THE KITTY! (In A New Place On Moving Day)

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This is LiLi, the cat of many names. AKA Merph, Merphy Brown, Captain Merphlepoof, Monkey Butt and of course, Grumpitha to name a few. Alas! If only I’d had a computer at the time, we could have beat that Grumpy Cat to fame and fortune!

Merph: What the hell Mom?
But wait. ALL our stuff is here so this isn’t a sleepover spot. But why is the bed surrounded by towers of boxes? I’m not sure if this is adequate or not. You sure are lucky that I’m so good with new environments!

Me: At least, “Stompy McStomperson” (our former loud housemate) isn’t here. Oh boy, but wait until you hear the garage door!

LiLi aka Merph: I don’t know what a garage door is, but MY bed is here which I will share with you. In other words I will sleep with my butt in your face.

Me: Okay. Thanks?

LiLi: By the way this “view” is fantastic!
(Kitty sarcasm)
So, Puuurrrrrrr.

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The fantastic view!

Me: Don’t be mad. I can’t figure out where your food bowls and your toys are. I just checked with my client and she says I didn’t leave them behind. Maybe they are in the trunk of the car.

LiLi: This is most inadequate. I demand that you go find them at once!

Me: Maybe when it stops raining. I just changed my clothes. The ones I was wearing are soaking wet.

LiLi: What is it about, “At Once!” that was not clear?

Me: How about I make the bed?

LiLi: I not purr now.

Me: Tough love. Tough love.

 

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Once again, trapped under a kitty.

It turns out that Merph is completely nonplussed by our bedroom being over the garage. That big noisy gate doesn’t even make her ears twitch. Frankly, it’s soothing compared to all the noise at the last few places we lived. The rain sound is not the best, no roof, just water slapping pavement, but it’s not the worst either. It’s nicer when I close the window.) 

 

 

(A little while later)

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Merph: You find my food bowls yet?

Me: It’s still raining. I have to go look in the car.

Merph: Inadequate. Most Inadequate!

Me: Besides, how can I do anything when you are on my lap?

Merph: Magic! Duh.

 

Me: I can’t even make the bed because you won’t move.

Merph: I helping!

Me: Cats seriously have a strange idea if what, “helping” means.

Merph: Bowls now?

Me: *bonk*

(And later that day….)

Me: (finally) Merph, I found your food bowl, your crunchies and your toys.

Merph: Eh. I’m busy sitting in this basket.

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Put down a basket, even a smooshed one, and voila, in goes a cat! It must be in their DNA.

Me: Loooook, I filled your water bowl!

Merph: Yeah, I might get to that later.

Me: OK then, I’ll just put this catnip away.

MerphCATNIP!!!!

boxes and boxes

Yes, and this is me, a short while after the movers left. And yes, those are boxes, boxes and still more boxes! I confess, it’s been a year and some still aren’t unpacked.          

-LM 2016 / 2017

#Derailed

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This poem is fairly self explanatory. Those of you that write will understand this vexation, I’m sure. It’s not the same as writer’s block, it’s when you have plenty in your head to write then something irritates you so much that you soon realize your concentration like Elvis has left the building! I always try to deal with stress creatively and with humor. I felt better after writing this.

Derailed

‪#‎DERAILED‬

I started out my evening dressed in warmest brown
But now I’m feeling cold as bones and frankly, a bit down
Since fate had decreed that tonight I’d be alone
I figured I’d hunker down and get some things done
I found a place to write and have some citrus tea
A nook with nondescript music playing quietly
I cracked my notebook, uncapped my pen, pondered what I’d sew
I sipped my tea and just like that, words began to flow
Until the speaker above my pate phased in and out and crackled
And irritating, upbeat music started blaring out of it quite loud
I tried to press on past my second paragraph

I couldn’t concentrate so I tried a change of habitat
The waitress, sweet, apologized and went to turn it down
But the muse had packed her sumptuous bags and moved right out of town
And now I just feel empty, frustrated and beat
And the story in my head remains a partially sprouted seed
All I really wanted was a bit of quiet time
But now I think I may need chocolate, I think I may need wine

-LM September 2015

Songs of The Stomach Bard: Nostalgic Regrets

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MaggiesBefore I moved to my current city I had a house-sitting gig here for a couple of months. Every time I would be coming back to the place I would pass this cute little building on a corner that looked like it should be a firehouse or even a small filling station but it said, Maggie’s over the front door so it had to be a cafe.

After I moved I forgot about it. Then I drove past it a week ago and had an, “Oh yeah, that place!” moment and decided to look it up. Turns out it’s been around for years and is a breakfast and burger spot so I decided I would get there early enough one day to check it out.

The parking lot was fairly desolate when I went in, I parked next to an old sedan that I’m betting belonged to an employee. As I got out an old truck pulled up and the owner whom I could tell from a distance had few teeth left rolled the window down for his dog and gave me a long stare. For a moment I thought, maybe this is close enough, but then I shrugged that off and entered.

maggies jukeboxThe place was seriously retro-divey! Old school vending machines, a jukebox and a red and possibly once white, checkered floor. The walls were covered with old movie memorabilia. Two booths sat empty under one window and there were a few tables littered about.

maggies codgersMost of the seating was on stools that were slightly too low following a long L shaped counter. Seated to my left with their backs to me, a gaggle of old fogies.

I took a seat at the other end of the L.

It was obvious this place was going to put the grease in greasy spoon! A smiling sunny waitress named Arlene obliged me with a cup of coffee that looked dubiously old but tasted fresh. The owner, Ed was at the grill filling the place with the smell of sizzling murdered cow. I shouldn’t have, but I had to order a cheeseburger. Maybe it was the pressure of the clutter surrounding me, maybe it was the feeling of nostalgia. Maybe it was the caffeine kicking in. Maybe the bus boy mopping the floor while I scanned the menu just made me nervous. “Order the burger” demanded the voice in my head. So I did.

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The fries were really good, sliced with the skins on them. I asked Arlene if she had any dressing I could dip them into and she beamed, “We have ranch dressing! Home made!” “Perfect! I’ll try it!” I’m partial to dipping french fries in blue cheese dressing rather than ketchup. It’s something my brother got me hooked on when we were kids! The ranch worked fine. And when I told her how good it was it seemed to make her day! “Thank you! I make it myself from scratch!”

Maggies burgerThe burger by the standards of burgers you get at restaurants these days was not great but it was strangely satisfying. I had ordered it medium well and the cook had actually managed that state. It was greasy yet slightly dry and had some tough spots. All the toppings were just kind of perfect. It was a burger of small town childhood memory, a time machine. But sometimes you can’t go back, or at the very least you shouldn’t and my stomach was going to be the first to remind me of that.

maggies memorobeliaAs I sat in the car feeling my first twinges, Arlene came running out the door with my sweater. It had been warm that day but I had taken it in just in case the place had air conditioning. (It didn’t.) Please angry stomach. Let me make it home before you make me pay, I pleaded!

My stomach said, ok, just this once but first I’m gong to sing to you and you have to write this down word for word! Deal?

I whimpered and complied. Thus The Stomach Bard was born!

“You may think you had a nostalgic lunch
And that greasy meat was fun to munch
But you are so very wrong
And so I wrote you this song…..

You are going to live to regret this
You are going to be sorry you et it
When you spend an unwanted hour in the looooooo
While I rain intestinal distress down upon you

Boop boopie do

Boy oh boy I hope it was worth it
Remember that when you drop that nuclear sh**
Will you never learn
As the stomach turns

You are going to live to regret this
You are going to be sorry you et it
This is why the vegetarian lifestyle was so much better for you
Maybe next time you’ll choose “garden” instead of “moo”

Boop boopie doobie gurgle doo wah wah”

-LM’s tum tum 2015

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Mini Conversations: Life With People Who Are Nothing Like Me

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funny-dogs-bbq-hot-dogsI have a Housemate who has pretty much nothing in common with me. Same goes for his girlfriend who has her own apartment, but pretty much lives here. It’s not that I don’t like them but they aren’t easy to live with and they take up the whole space. This is one of the reasons we don’t keep a third housemate for long. Sometimes I think we could be a sitcom around here. “Comedy gold.” *cough*

Note: I refer to my Housemate as Hades, because he plays the game Smite as Hades, he leaves the thermostat all the way up constantly, and really, he is the roommate from Hell. I call his lady, The Girlfriend aka Princess Brattipantz, because that sums up exactly how she behaves and it makes me laugh.

Hades is BBQing. I’m in the kitchen making a salad and a long overdue pot of coffee! The Girlfriend is popping in and out of the kitchen and the living room where she has the TV blaring.

The Girlfriend:You don’t eat much meat do you?
Me: Nope. We don’t actually need meat, you know. I eat it in moderation.
Hades: *waving a hot dog in my face* I LOVE meat! It’s good for you!”
The Girlfriend: Don’t make too many hot dogs. You’re the only one eating them! They’re expensive!
Me: Hot dogs shouldn’t be expensive! They’re made of all the crap parts!
Hades: If I don’t eat them now I’ll heat them up later and they’ll be already grilled! Mmm!

The girlfriend is sitting on the couch watching, The Prancing Elites, a reality show about a gay male dance troupe from the south. She’s giggling at the pretty makeup on the boys and being sad when one has their house burned down.
The Girlfriend: They live in the south (insert frownie face emoticon)

This is a cut above the reality twaddle she usually watches.

The two of them are doing their usual Bickersons routine which is admittedly kind of cute! Either that or it’s just my stockholm syndrome kicking in.

Hades popping off with lines like:

“I DEFINITELY told you I will eat Mac n cheese or salad but I won’t eat both.”

“Woman!”

“Fine then! I’ll burn your piece of chicken!”

Oh those kids. They’re too much!

In the midst of prepping my own food, I’m following the hurricane that is Hades, around the kitchen, putting caps back on bottles, removing trash and recycling from the floor and counter, etc.

Hades comes in, opens a drawer that is right at shin level, pulls out the foil and walks away. A few minutes later I see the drawer is still open, foil on the table and Hades standing in the living room mouth agape at the pretty gay guys!

ME: So hey, this is my life of wonderment on a daily basis. I mean here you are, a big strong man but you don’t have the strength to close a drawer after you open it. Is it weak wrists or something?

Brattipantz laughs.
Hades comes into the kitchen to see what I’m talking about.

Hades: That wasn’t me!

Me: Dude! I just watched you open the drawer, pull the foil out and walk away. You should get a test for early onset Alzheimer’s!

Hades: Oh yeah.

Then he closes the drawer and goes back to watch tv.

This is why I live in my room. Sometimes I just don’t want to see it.