Whatever pagan came up with the idea of people living without harming anything clearly has never had fleas. I know I've been talking about them a lot, but dammit, it's not even quite June yet and the things are everywhere. It almost makes me regret writing a post about how well we did getting rid of them last year. Clearly, I know nothing. I think the fleas evolved or something with collective ancestor memory and now know what to avoid in our house. Bastards.
The cats have been avoiding the floor as much as possible and two of them chose a three level cart by me as their new sleep area. It was annoying. I kept a lot of stuff on this cart and they would knock it off . . .daily . . . sometimes many times daily. They would also always be on whatever I needed and, of course, generated tons of heat in the process. I let them stay though, because I love them and quite frankly, it wasn't worth the fight to keep them off.
Fleas though . . .fleas are living little creatures. This means they do all the usual things of living creatures, like shit and lay eggs. Lots and lots of shit and eggs. Oh, and the thing is, once the eggs hatch, the larvae feed off of the shit. Isn't that just . . . lovely?
Anyway, so today I scurry the cats off the cart and pick something up from it. This is when I notice that the whole surface was speckled with flea shit. I groan and decide it certainly needs to be cleaned AGAIN (I'd just cleaned it a few days before).
This is when I noticed that some of the black bits on the surface of the cart . . . . WERE. . . . MOVING!
The flea eggs had hatched and larvae were writhing on my cart . . . right by me.
There truly is no word for the level of revulsion I felt in this moment. I was horrified. Like, chamber full of rats horrified. Like maggots in someone's mullet horrified. I screamed. I got a little ill. And then I started scrubbing the bejesus out of everything.
The cart was taken outside, sprayed off, scrubbed, sprayed again, scrubbed, moved the hell away from me and the cats and other potential living things. My roommate and I honestly thought we had a better handle on the flea issue. Yeah, we were wrong. We'd been vacuuming and washing things and using spray and lavender and setting out plates and everything like before . . . and yet, MORE FLEAS AND THEIR NASTY FLEA BABIES.
Well, I tell you this, fleas, I saw your young and I destroyed them. I smashed out their little young lives and ended all chances they had at climbing on to me or a cat and sucking at our life's blood. I destroyed your young and I will destroy you.
And when you enter your collective ancestral memory, you will know my face and fear! Bwahahahaha!
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
The Dying Art of Compassion
So yesterday, I read this article about a woman who almost died because she was hemorrhaging and the ER doctor refused to do an abortion even though the baby was dying anyway. The doctor on duty never does abortions. Ever. No exceptions. Then today, I read about this mayor who refused to let people who lost their homes during tornadoes use FEMA trailers because they have a ban on singe-wide trailers in their area. They refuse to see this situation as one where they should make exceptions.
You know, I get that it is good to be firm and strong in your principles. I understand that rules and personal commitments are made for reasons. I know that many things in our country now suck because we have become lax in the rules and in our responsibilities
BUT COME ON!!!!!!
In both cases above, those who could have altered the rules were facing situations that are very rare and very extreme circumstances. The woman who was in horrible pain and losing tons of blood. There was no way the baby could survive. Had the nurse not called the other doctor, the woman would have died. This ER doctors actions were premeditated murder.
When this doctor saw what was wrong with her, he should have, himself, called someone who could help her. The unborn and dying baby inside her was not his patient. She was. That baby could not be saved. She could. But instead of showing compassion, not to mention professional responsibility, he sat on his hands and just waited it out.
The mayor and the city council in the next article are just as horrible. Because they don't want trailers uglying up their town, they are willing to let people survive in tents and other temporary shelters, even though the FEMA trailers are provided by the government. Now, let us keep in mind that tornado season isn't over. It is quite likely that these people may face more storms. And while we all know a trailer isn't the safest place to be in during bad weather, I'm guessing it's still better than a tent.
The mayor and the city council are risking the lives of their citizens. People they are supposed to be helping. It seems that these people are less important than maintaining the image of their town. I have news for you, due to your lack of compassion, the image of your town now is that of one giant prick.
I'm sure in the case of the doctor from the first article and the elected officials in the second, they're cool with what they are doing. They probably think they are good people, people of principle, who are doing the best they possibly can to make America a better place.
They're wrong though. What they are doing is putting their own values over the reality of the situations. They are putting people at risk for a lot of harm to come their way. They lack compassion. And without compassion, what do you really have?
You know, I get that it is good to be firm and strong in your principles. I understand that rules and personal commitments are made for reasons. I know that many things in our country now suck because we have become lax in the rules and in our responsibilities
BUT COME ON!!!!!!
In both cases above, those who could have altered the rules were facing situations that are very rare and very extreme circumstances. The woman who was in horrible pain and losing tons of blood. There was no way the baby could survive. Had the nurse not called the other doctor, the woman would have died. This ER doctors actions were premeditated murder.
When this doctor saw what was wrong with her, he should have, himself, called someone who could help her. The unborn and dying baby inside her was not his patient. She was. That baby could not be saved. She could. But instead of showing compassion, not to mention professional responsibility, he sat on his hands and just waited it out.
The mayor and the city council in the next article are just as horrible. Because they don't want trailers uglying up their town, they are willing to let people survive in tents and other temporary shelters, even though the FEMA trailers are provided by the government. Now, let us keep in mind that tornado season isn't over. It is quite likely that these people may face more storms. And while we all know a trailer isn't the safest place to be in during bad weather, I'm guessing it's still better than a tent.
The mayor and the city council are risking the lives of their citizens. People they are supposed to be helping. It seems that these people are less important than maintaining the image of their town. I have news for you, due to your lack of compassion, the image of your town now is that of one giant prick.
I'm sure in the case of the doctor from the first article and the elected officials in the second, they're cool with what they are doing. They probably think they are good people, people of principle, who are doing the best they possibly can to make America a better place.
They're wrong though. What they are doing is putting their own values over the reality of the situations. They are putting people at risk for a lot of harm to come their way. They lack compassion. And without compassion, what do you really have?
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Grinding my Ax Because Sometimes I need to
On Facebook, a friend posted something about how his fellow Christians should learn to live and let live when it came to the issue of homosexuality. This caused quite a stir, including one person who said she would never accept her child if he was gay. The following is my response:
If the gay people aren't allowed to live freely, what then should they do? Pretend to be straight? Pretending is, in this case, in any case, a lie.
My roommate, who is also one of my best friends in the world and, also, consequently, a gay man, once told me that there is nothing more painful or dangerous than having to live closeted.
When people make it so socially unacceptable for you to live how you truly know you are, when you have to keep that kind of secret, it consumes you. You have to constantly be scared that everyone is going to find out that you're different. When you live with that kind of consistent fear, you can never be happy. You can never be at peace.
I know at this point, you'll probably argue that people don't HAVE to be gay. You'll tell me no one is born this way, it's just some perverse choice people make. You're wrong. I'm not even going to debate you on the issue.
I've known too many people of various sexual orientations to think the ones who truly self-identify as gay are any likely to change this or choose this than the ones who only desire the opposite sex. People don't choose this. And quite often until they can finally admit it to themselves and come out to others about it, they are miserable and they make others miserable as well.
Is it a sin? I don't believe it is. Yes, I know the Bible says otherwise, but the Bible also says that if a woman isn't a virgin when she gets married she can be stoned to death. I don't believe that's true either. But you know what, even if it is a sin, I don't care.
Because lying is a sin, and we don't tell two liars they can't marry each other. Borrowing money is a sin, but we don't tell people with house loans they can't adopt children. Gossip is a sin, but we don't have groups of people who target gossipers and beat them to death. People don't have to live in fear of losing their jobs because they have graven images of God hanging around. No one tries to pass laws against people who do any of these things.
There is another reason I don't care if it's a sin. And that reason is because I do know that if I don't show love for someone, show acceptance for someone, I am the one who is sinning. And so I will hug my gay brothers and sisters, I will let them eat at my table, I will march with them hand in hand, I will stand up for their rights, and I will defend them against those who would hurt them. I'm here to love people. Their salvation and the way to it is between them and Jesus.
As for your question about how one is to feel if their child is gay, let me ask you this . . .would you rather be the mother who welcomes her gay child into her home and prays for understanding or the mother who buries her child knowing her disapproval was the last straw before he killed himself?
If the gay people aren't allowed to live freely, what then should they do? Pretend to be straight? Pretending is, in this case, in any case, a lie.
My roommate, who is also one of my best friends in the world and, also, consequently, a gay man, once told me that there is nothing more painful or dangerous than having to live closeted.
When people make it so socially unacceptable for you to live how you truly know you are, when you have to keep that kind of secret, it consumes you. You have to constantly be scared that everyone is going to find out that you're different. When you live with that kind of consistent fear, you can never be happy. You can never be at peace.
I know at this point, you'll probably argue that people don't HAVE to be gay. You'll tell me no one is born this way, it's just some perverse choice people make. You're wrong. I'm not even going to debate you on the issue.
I've known too many people of various sexual orientations to think the ones who truly self-identify as gay are any likely to change this or choose this than the ones who only desire the opposite sex. People don't choose this. And quite often until they can finally admit it to themselves and come out to others about it, they are miserable and they make others miserable as well.
Is it a sin? I don't believe it is. Yes, I know the Bible says otherwise, but the Bible also says that if a woman isn't a virgin when she gets married she can be stoned to death. I don't believe that's true either. But you know what, even if it is a sin, I don't care.
Because lying is a sin, and we don't tell two liars they can't marry each other. Borrowing money is a sin, but we don't tell people with house loans they can't adopt children. Gossip is a sin, but we don't have groups of people who target gossipers and beat them to death. People don't have to live in fear of losing their jobs because they have graven images of God hanging around. No one tries to pass laws against people who do any of these things.
There is another reason I don't care if it's a sin. And that reason is because I do know that if I don't show love for someone, show acceptance for someone, I am the one who is sinning. And so I will hug my gay brothers and sisters, I will let them eat at my table, I will march with them hand in hand, I will stand up for their rights, and I will defend them against those who would hurt them. I'm here to love people. Their salvation and the way to it is between them and Jesus.
As for your question about how one is to feel if their child is gay, let me ask you this . . .would you rather be the mother who welcomes her gay child into her home and prays for understanding or the mother who buries her child knowing her disapproval was the last straw before he killed himself?
Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday List: Weird Loves
Oh look, another Friday and another list. This has been a week of somewhat dragging frustrations so I decided to end things on a high note.
In every life, there are the things that make us happy that, yeah, everyone gets and it's easy to understand why we like them. But in other cases, the things that make us happy are inexplicable and very subjective. I wanted to talk about some of my strange little loves today.
THINGS THAT I LOVE FOR SOME WEIRD REASON
1. I love to see footprints in carpet.
I did some major cleaning on my room the other day. Okay, I've been in the house for three years, and I still haven't completely unpacked. I'm getting there, dammit! Anyway, I got more of the boxes off of my floor and once it was vacuumed, I walked over to check on something and left a footprint in the carpet. I noticed this later and just grinned about it for like five minutes.
I have no idea why seeing footprints in carpet makes me so happy. My guess is that when I was really young, someone pointed it out to me and I latched onto the idea that it's neat. I don't remember, but whenever I see them, I get that kind of gooshy, happy childlike feeling that you get when you think about stuff from your past. Well, you know, the good stuff. Not the suck. But yeah, it's that kind of happy, all innocence and rainbows.
2. I love the way my roommate talks to animals.
By this, I do not mean the way he talks to them when they annoy him. I mean the way he talks to them the rest of the time. His voice takes on a certain gentleness that I find to be just beautiful. It's very calming and soothing.
More than that, he speaks to the animal as if it is very special, very loved. There is a lot of respect for the animal in his tone, the kind of way you speak to something or someone when you truly care. It is a kind of individualized tone that shows the depth of how he views animals. He doesn't just like a cat because it is a cat. He likes it because it is that specific cat, with its own specific personality. It's a very beautiful thing to hear.
3. I love the feel of dishes right out of the dishwasher.
You know, like when they're still hot. Kind of like the dish version of clothes out of the dryer. There is a certain level of hot to them that just feels very good to the touch. Not so much to hurt you, but just enough to make you quite aware of the heat.
Oddly, as good as it feels to hold one dish when it is this hot, it makes me even happier to hold like a stack of them. And no, there is no "glad to be in the kitchen" bullshit to this. I just like the heat.
4. I like it in movies when people turn out to be secret androids.
Even though it is cheesy and often predictable, I weirdly love it when the quirky human in the group turns out to be an android. I think this might have to do with reading Asimov at a young age of how when I saw Bladerunner, I so, so wanted Harrison Ford to be a robot. It just made so much sense to me.
Maybe it's because with androids, you get all of the good parts of a human with none of the messy bits. And the irony always is that it's the messy parts that the androids wish for, the fluid imperfection of being human. The point being, even as much as we strive for perfection, it's never satisfying.
And so there you have it. Four odd little loves of my life. During the week, when you find yourself happy for no reason, think about the stuff around you. You'll soon discover strange little loves of your own.
In every life, there are the things that make us happy that, yeah, everyone gets and it's easy to understand why we like them. But in other cases, the things that make us happy are inexplicable and very subjective. I wanted to talk about some of my strange little loves today.
THINGS THAT I LOVE FOR SOME WEIRD REASON
1. I love to see footprints in carpet.
I did some major cleaning on my room the other day. Okay, I've been in the house for three years, and I still haven't completely unpacked. I'm getting there, dammit! Anyway, I got more of the boxes off of my floor and once it was vacuumed, I walked over to check on something and left a footprint in the carpet. I noticed this later and just grinned about it for like five minutes.
I have no idea why seeing footprints in carpet makes me so happy. My guess is that when I was really young, someone pointed it out to me and I latched onto the idea that it's neat. I don't remember, but whenever I see them, I get that kind of gooshy, happy childlike feeling that you get when you think about stuff from your past. Well, you know, the good stuff. Not the suck. But yeah, it's that kind of happy, all innocence and rainbows.
2. I love the way my roommate talks to animals.
By this, I do not mean the way he talks to them when they annoy him. I mean the way he talks to them the rest of the time. His voice takes on a certain gentleness that I find to be just beautiful. It's very calming and soothing.
More than that, he speaks to the animal as if it is very special, very loved. There is a lot of respect for the animal in his tone, the kind of way you speak to something or someone when you truly care. It is a kind of individualized tone that shows the depth of how he views animals. He doesn't just like a cat because it is a cat. He likes it because it is that specific cat, with its own specific personality. It's a very beautiful thing to hear.
3. I love the feel of dishes right out of the dishwasher.
You know, like when they're still hot. Kind of like the dish version of clothes out of the dryer. There is a certain level of hot to them that just feels very good to the touch. Not so much to hurt you, but just enough to make you quite aware of the heat.
Oddly, as good as it feels to hold one dish when it is this hot, it makes me even happier to hold like a stack of them. And no, there is no "glad to be in the kitchen" bullshit to this. I just like the heat.
4. I like it in movies when people turn out to be secret androids.
Even though it is cheesy and often predictable, I weirdly love it when the quirky human in the group turns out to be an android. I think this might have to do with reading Asimov at a young age of how when I saw Bladerunner, I so, so wanted Harrison Ford to be a robot. It just made so much sense to me.
Maybe it's because with androids, you get all of the good parts of a human with none of the messy bits. And the irony always is that it's the messy parts that the androids wish for, the fluid imperfection of being human. The point being, even as much as we strive for perfection, it's never satisfying.
And so there you have it. Four odd little loves of my life. During the week, when you find yourself happy for no reason, think about the stuff around you. You'll soon discover strange little loves of your own.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Of Wasps and Fleabie Jeebies
Oh look! I lived through last night. I knew I would. I almost wrote, "I never get that lucky." Is that wrong? Probably. Anyway, right now I'm sitting here between two cats who have fleas. We're WORKING on the flea issues, but we've not conquered them yet. Give us time. Until then, I have an intense case of heebie jeebies every time I have to touch one of my cats. Seriously, why can't you bitches stay away from the bugs?
Because of the storms, my therapist was out today so I didn't get my head shrunk. Damn, it needed that too. Okay, maybe not as much as usual, but some. I've been in an oddly good mood, aside from suicidal storm tendencies and fleabie jeebies.
I've been really good about staying hydrated. Props to my roommate for keeping me in tea and whatnot drinks. That helps a lot. We're also going into summer eating mode, which means less during the heat of the day and more in the morning. It simplifies things and keeps us from being overly hot.
My roommate did some maintaining on the gutters today. I sat on the porch and handed him stuff as needed. It looks like the gutters were put up by crazy people who wanted to make life difficult on anyone who came after them. And of course, it was windy as hell while we were out there, but not windy enough to keep the wasps away.
Wasps, as in the bugs. Not WASPS as in the people who would be standing out there in sunglasses holding glasses of wine and making comments about how we poors never call the proper people to handle things. The ones we were dealing with sting, but the pain goes away quicker than the stings of the other kind.
Because of the storms, my therapist was out today so I didn't get my head shrunk. Damn, it needed that too. Okay, maybe not as much as usual, but some. I've been in an oddly good mood, aside from suicidal storm tendencies and fleabie jeebies.
I've been really good about staying hydrated. Props to my roommate for keeping me in tea and whatnot drinks. That helps a lot. We're also going into summer eating mode, which means less during the heat of the day and more in the morning. It simplifies things and keeps us from being overly hot.
My roommate did some maintaining on the gutters today. I sat on the porch and handed him stuff as needed. It looks like the gutters were put up by crazy people who wanted to make life difficult on anyone who came after them. And of course, it was windy as hell while we were out there, but not windy enough to keep the wasps away.
Wasps, as in the bugs. Not WASPS as in the people who would be standing out there in sunglasses holding glasses of wine and making comments about how we poors never call the proper people to handle things. The ones we were dealing with sting, but the pain goes away quicker than the stings of the other kind.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
The Not So Calm before the Storm
So I'm sitting here about 30 minutes away from major storms hitting. I won't seek shelter. I never do. For one thing, refer to post on how much my cellar sucks. For another thing, I just have this compulsion to ride the storms out. I know it's dangerous. I know people die in these things. However, dying in a tornado doesn't upset me that much. And I in no way mean that as a casual statement against those who have lost loved ones in the storms. I don't want other people to die in the storms; I'm just okay about me dying in one.
Not that I want to die in a tornado tonight (or ever). I've just made peace with the idea if I do. Like being taken down by a serial killer or random shooting, there is honestly little I can do to stop it, so why worry?
I guess it's a Leaf in the Wind kind of thing with me. There is so much stuff the world is trying to make us worry about. How we look, how we smell, how successful we are, how much we weigh, okay, so everything, really. It sucks. We have to constantly fight against this crap. The worry keeps us from being happy. Hell, it keeps us from actually living in any kind of celebratory way.
So whatever happens, happens. I accept it. I'll survive it. Or I won't. Either way, I'm going to enjoy the next half hour and not panic.
Not that I want to die in a tornado tonight (or ever). I've just made peace with the idea if I do. Like being taken down by a serial killer or random shooting, there is honestly little I can do to stop it, so why worry?
I guess it's a Leaf in the Wind kind of thing with me. There is so much stuff the world is trying to make us worry about. How we look, how we smell, how successful we are, how much we weigh, okay, so everything, really. It sucks. We have to constantly fight against this crap. The worry keeps us from being happy. Hell, it keeps us from actually living in any kind of celebratory way.
So whatever happens, happens. I accept it. I'll survive it. Or I won't. Either way, I'm going to enjoy the next half hour and not panic.
Monday, May 23, 2011
And Thusly Real Life Kidnapped her and Took her to Its Vile Castle
You know, I have posts that I plan to write. It's just not happening right now due to certain rather annoying factors. As a writer of any sort, you always face these moments when life overwhelms you and suddenly the crisis at the moment is all you can handle.
Of course, I've gone through this before. You'll notice quite often real life overtakes blog life. It sucks, but as I am committed to writing, even if it isn't what I want to be writing, you get to hear about this stuff.
Because I live in the boonies, if a bird even looks at the cables, the whole internet goes off for hours. I end up spending time listening to condescending jackasses tell me to reset my cable box . . . as if that would do any good when the net is out all over town. I know I bitch about this a lot, but I pay for a service, dammit, not the idea of a service. Anyway, last night the cable was out again. It's on now, ovs, but only just in the last couple of hours.
We're also back in Flea Hell, which means all of the stuff I wrote in the post about flea hell is back in play. And while this works, it takes time, can be exhausting, is certainly frustrating, and tends to set my teeth on edge.
Teeth on edge doesn't bode well for a happiness project, now does it?
All that aside, as I said, I do have ideas festering in my wicked brain. Expect better posts in the coming days. Hopefully.
Of course, I've gone through this before. You'll notice quite often real life overtakes blog life. It sucks, but as I am committed to writing, even if it isn't what I want to be writing, you get to hear about this stuff.
Because I live in the boonies, if a bird even looks at the cables, the whole internet goes off for hours. I end up spending time listening to condescending jackasses tell me to reset my cable box . . . as if that would do any good when the net is out all over town. I know I bitch about this a lot, but I pay for a service, dammit, not the idea of a service. Anyway, last night the cable was out again. It's on now, ovs, but only just in the last couple of hours.
We're also back in Flea Hell, which means all of the stuff I wrote in the post about flea hell is back in play. And while this works, it takes time, can be exhausting, is certainly frustrating, and tends to set my teeth on edge.
Teeth on edge doesn't bode well for a happiness project, now does it?
All that aside, as I said, I do have ideas festering in my wicked brain. Expect better posts in the coming days. Hopefully.
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