Caterwauling

I’ve had the blog closed down for internal repairs. On me, not the blog.

Decided to reopen it today to write about a dream I had last night. So far I’ve written two posts and no mention of what danced through my mind at 4:03 a.m.

Now I barely remember what I wanted to take away from today!

I do know I was visiting with my old college adviser.

She always talks on FB about her favorite students. I’m never one of them.

Which, I was kind of an asshole at 19. So, no wonder.

In the dream, though, I gave her the kudos I felt she deserved. That her guidance was more valuable than any I received in 4.5 years of school. Which is 100% true.

In the dream she said you never showed me you cared what I said to you from ages 18 to 23. But if you could do me the favor now, listen up.

She showed me a pic of a male friend of mine and said he thinks and speaks so highly of you. Don’t write him off. You’ve done enough idiotic things, but this one I can stop you from doing.

I last spoke to this person about two months ago.

And somewhere between then and now, I decided not to reach back out.

Not for lack of wanting.

Like “Dawn” sings in the “Waitress” musical, “What if I give him my heart and he gives it back?”

Anyway I thought that was very interesting.

Not saying I’ll do anything about my mentor’s dreamy advice.

Just keeping an open heart and mind, now, rather than leaving that budding thought nipped.

Kelly made sure I had a great Valentine’s Day, so I am grateful for that.

The earliest reservation I could get was 9:15. I apologized and she said that’s like noon for me, it’s good.

Every time I went to take a photo, she turned on her Ring camera light for me. Like, unprompted.

I didn’t even know she had one and she said oh yeah, I know you like to take photos and I figured it’d be dark as shit here.

And when I got a glass of Veuve with gold flakes, she used the back of her coffee spoon to stir up the flecks so I could take a video.

Mom used to tell me I was a better date than any man she ever met. This was my chance to tell Kelly the same.

Seriously, best valentine (other than mom) and best Valentine’s Day.

I think the curse of this stupid holiday is finally broken!

In any event, I got to telling her a story about my homegirl H.

This was a good one, though. We actually collaborated — effectively — for the first time ever.

I wanted to be sure to balance out all the bad stories I’ve told K with this really good one.

Kelly said, “So do WE like her now?”

I had to pause and appreciate her for that. She said yeah if WE still hate her, that’s fine. But if WE just like her this week, I’m down with that.

THIS IS A TRUE FRIEND.

I said yeah I think it’s just this week. Because I was feeling saucy and pushed my luck, and she reverted to the mean.

In all senses of reverting to the “mean.”

But still, I’m growing here. I think we all did this week.

Kelly is purging all her shit and fleeing the coop. So is my manicurist.

I told her she inspired me with all her throwing shit away. So I went into Mom’s room and collected four boxes of shit to pitch.

(Not that the HOA will let me put it out, mind you, until Thursday. But, details.)

I told K a funny story. I was wearing a halter that secures behind the neck. And it is pretty sturdy; never came apart before.

But as I was picking brand-new Christmas decorations to pitch, SOMETHING undid my top and the whole thing went falling down.

She said, “Mom said don’t touch my shit!”

We laughed and I said I KNOW. And that’s why I haven’t touched anything in the eight months (today!) that she passed.

Kelly said I know no one is telling you they’re proud of you. Mom’s gone, Martin’s doing his thing and now I have this other boss who is his polar opposite.

So, she wanted me to know she’s SO proud of me.

I teared up a bit and said thank you. But I did say it’s just four boxes of clothes that don’t fit.

She said yeah but you didn’t have to do a single thing that you did for her. No one would have expected it, least of all her.

So go easy on yourself. You kept going. That’s more than a lot of people do.

Also how ironic but I just hit pause on “Waitress” and saw this…

Kelly, like me, isn’t going to say something to be nice. Unlike me, she also will tell you that you’re on the wrong path.

So an atta girl from her is worth its weight in gold champagne flecks.

I gave H an atta girl this week. Surprised the shit out of her.

She needed my finesse on something. Like acknowledged that it isn’t her strong suit but it’s mine.

I also said something to her about me being a softy. She said, “Learn to say no, Goddess. You’ll be much happier when you do.”

My friend N. always says that H is my lesson.

But this week, we saw very clearly that I am also HER lesson.

So, even if it didn’t feel like a good week at times … it was, in fact, a good week.

I just upgraded my Disney+ membership to get HBO Max.

I lost MAX when my HOA switched us from Xfinity to Fision. So I was waiting for the S3 premier of “White Lotus.”

Happy White Lotus day, to those who celebrate!

The quote in the SL came from the trailer.

I’ve been struggling with a similar thought for a year now. Ever since I quit feeding the neighborhood kitties.

There are more kitties now. A gorgeous Siamese showed up. She looks ragged. I mean, living here will do that to anyone.

I still occasionally see all the others. Especially at night, their little glowing eyes haunt me as I drive past.

The HOA is useless. Today they’re whining that we generate too much trash. Um, we have one dumpster and everyone is here from up north. So shit is piled to the sky.

I dunno, maybe get another dumpster? No, they tell me to keep my trash till Thursday mornings now.

I got to thinking about my lack of contribution to society on Friday night.

I made a reservation at Dada. As ever, you have to make it for two. Kelly offered to come. So, hell yeah. Best valentine I could ask for.

I got there early so I walked around a bit.

Saw a tiny homeless woman in a pink beanie get excited because she saw a discarded bag. When she got to it and saw it was just full of trash, she ran to a dark corner and curled up in a ball.

I watched her for a while. I saw a guy go stand her, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to attack this vulnerable lady.

I was thinking about the bill in my pocket that I’d brought to pay for parking. Parking was double because of the holiday, so I used an app. So I wanted to give it to her.

I said excuse me and she looked up with tear-filled eyes. Big, gorgeous blue eyes. I couldn’t help myself. I gasped and said you are so pretty!

She took my hand and held it to her face. So I could feel the tears.

She had been hugging a stuffed toy dog for dear life. She held him up for me to hold. But I didn’t want to take him from her. So I petted his head and said what a handsome boy.

I could tell she wanted to talk. But I am an asshole and said I just wanted to give you this. She didn’t even look at it and said something I couldn’t understand.

I don’t think it was a language barrier. I really think she was just so down and out of energy. And we were near the bar with all the live music next to the railroad tracks.

Hearing is not my best quality even on my best day. Nor is listening. So I said good night and ran closer to the oncoming train so I could sob without anyone hearing.

I think of her a lot.

I think of the mama cat who brought her baby to me in a parking lot. Who I ran and bought chicken for but they had already gone by the time I got my order.

I hope they found what I left. I’m sure something did.

I think of running out last night to do an errand and the kitty who howled to get my attention. I didn’t find it. And I kept walking. But how smart these cats are, to see a human and ask for help.

And I think of what little safety net the government offers, being pissed and shit on by Elon and the Felon. And how that little old lady probably doesn’t vote. These kitties don’t vote.

No one knows any of them are alive. They are literally alive out of some miracle. And they probably won’t be, not for much longer.

No one CARES that any of them are alive.

And maybe it is my job to care.

I do care. I just don’t do anything about it.

I mean, anytime I’ve done kind things, I’ve been abused. But what about the creatures who need a “me”?

I can go make more money and get takeout food and feed my own cats with it. But they can’t.

Not even a fully functioning government is gonna reach them.

Mom used to say that she spent her life trying to soften my hard edges. And that she was going to die and I’d be hardened again.

Not true, Momma. I see why she cried every time she saw a hurt or hungry animal or person.

I do too.

I just … keep going. Which she couldn’t do.

I feel bad all the times I said no sense in crying. Nothing we could do.

Maybe I will finally put a cat carrier and blankets in my trunk.

Maybe I’ll finally save an animal who may still be alive who’s been hit.

Maybe I’ll buy someone a meal instead of handing them a 10-spot and hoping they can make it to a place on foot that has something under $10.

This is why I get mad and vote and rage-post. I want someone to join me. Someones. And I want those with more power and money and reach than me to say hey, this cause should be important to all of us. Let us help you help them.

I think I’ve become the type who’d rather throw money at a problem than solve it.

Glad to be in this position, honestly. But I gotta stop beating myself up over it.

I won’t. Not until I get back into mental fighting shape to do the right thing instead of just thinking about it, anyway.