Oversights Lead to Ouch! That Hurts!

Today I relearned a lesson I should have already known in full. It is a lesson that involves cats, though this time it was the cat above specifically. The lesson? Don't give a cat the opportunity to use your neck as a spring board.

I learned this when I was younger. One of our cats had wanted out of my arms and up onto something, and as a result I got my neck gouged pretty good. I still have a scar from it. Well today the same thing happened. I was holding October with the intent of putting him on a bookshelf. However, I forgot that the plant on said bookshelf was cat grass, and in his rush to get at it I was used as a spring board. It would have been fine if it'd been my chest; I was wearing a robe. Unfortunately though his back legs landed on my throat, and double unfortunately we haven't clipped his back claws recently.

He got me in a few places on my neck, and at first it didn't look bad at all. But then a minute went by and the suckers started bleeding, quite a lot actually. I knew it wasn't anything too bad though, it just looked bad. I bleed rather easily you see. So I cleaned it up, got a gauze pad, taped that on, and then to keep pressure on it wrapped a scarf around the area. Then I went right back to organizing the books (which was what I'd been doing previously to this incident).

It's a pain in the butt, and I have to be careful with it otherwise the tape will come off. It also aches somewhat. Hopefully it'll heal quickly, though I am curious as to whether or not it'll scar. That might look cool. Anyway, to those of you who own pets, BEWARE! DON'T DO WHAT I DID! PROTECT YOUR NECK!

You have been warned.

Analyse This: New Bed

Wow. Okay. Did you know that analyse can also be spelled analyze? 

I look at both and they both seem wrong! Gah! 

Anyway, onto the subject of this post: I am getting a new bed.

I bet you're wondering what the big deal is. I mean it's just a bed, right?

WRONG!

You silly sausages, do you honestly think if it was that simple I'd be talking about it?

Well... maybe I would. But that's not the point! Perhaps I should get to the point you say?

Great idea!

This is no ordinary bed. It's not simply a mattress replacement deal here. 

I am getting a brand new bed. A bigger bed. 

I'm talking with a head board and foot board here!

*flails around like a crazy person*

Still confused? Wondering why I'm nervous about it... 

maybe even freaking out a little, tiny bit?

Truth is... I don't really know. I mean I am excited for it. I am. 

I get bouts of giddiness. But then I hesitate. I feel... apprehensive. 

The question is why though? Why does something as

small as a bed freak me out, even just a little?

I have a couple of possibilities for you.

1. It's, le gasp! Change.

2. I don't get to have nice things.

Now I think my problem is a combination of both of these things. 

There might be more to it,  I'm not sure but let's just roll with these at the moment. 

We shall start with the first one. The dreaded change.

Don't get me wrong, I've had a lot of change in my life and consider myself decent at

rolling with the punches. However, I think it's precisely because I've had a crap ton

of change in my life that the small changes are what trip me up.

Also, if I think about it, the size of my bed has been a constant in my life. 

I've always, always had a twin bed, and I'm getting into the thick of my twenties. 

That's a long time to have a certain type of bed. Also I've only really had two frames in my life. The first I had for forever; it was the top bunk of a set of bunk beds. 

The only reason we got rid of it was because it died and could no longer be put back together.  The second is currently sitting in our garage, still wrapped up in plastic from the move. It wouldn't fit up the stairs, and if we were to take it apart it wouldn't be able to be put back together. Thus, the need for a new bed.

But it bothers me that I can't use my still perfectly good bed. It's not dead yet, so why should I get a new one? This brings me to the second issue.

I don't get to have nice things. This could also be interpreted as new things. I get stuck in this way of thinking that if something works then I should keep it. I shouldn't trade up for something better, I should just wait until it falls apart. This applies to big things and small alike.

I think it's a self-esteem thing? Maybe? Or maybe it could be the fact that these things,

though not as good as they once were, are mine and so I don't want to give them up? Oh!

I think that one is true. Let's add it to the list.

3. I'm somewhat possessive of objects already established as mine.

I think I feel sorry for the objects I'm letting go. 

Like I'm saying they're no longer good enough or something, and so I feel bad. 

Wow. Giving yourself a guilt trip over an object. *shakes head*

Anyway, back to number two. No, not that number two. Anyway (again), I don't

get this way when other people need things. Only when I do, which further suggests

the self-esteem thing. I worry that if I get something new/better, that that means someone

else won't be able to get something when they need it. So then I feel bad.

Yay guilt trips! *rolls eyes*

The good news? I know that my feelings are a tad irrational. I can reason out

why certain things are necessary, and that me having things is, in fact, a good thing. 

I'm a lot better at this then I once was. The other two numbers are something that

I can handle with perhaps a bit of a pep talk, and if that doesn't work then a swift

kick in the rear should do the trick.

Because in the end this is just a bed. I will probably have many other beds in the

future. And that's okay. It's no big deal. It's normal. It's so normal it's mundane and boring. Therefore there's no need to get stressed out over little rediculousnesses (totally not a word) that won't matter in the long run anyway.

And with that said, I need to go organize the library.

Does anyone have any other theories about this subject? 

Comments? Rude gestures? Sparkly pinatas?

Let me know in a response.

It's Okay... Just Be Yourself

Picture this: Your doing something. This thing is something you enjoy. However, every now and again you pause. You get self conscious. You get embarrassed. You feel the need to justify liking whatever it is. Not anyone else, but to yourself. You remind yourself that it's okay to like things. That because you like them you aren't somehow some strange, abnormal thing that should be shunned away. It's fine. You're fine.

Maybe you haven't experienced this. Maybe you have. All I know is that this is something that I deal with a fair amount. Not all the time, but enough to be annoying. Enough to keep me on edge. I don't like those moments. I don't like checking myself, doubting myself like that. I know in part where it comes from.

My past, for one thing. As a child I felt that there were expectations I had to meet, and that no matter what I did I could never meet said expectations. Some of them were from my family (a few real, but most imagined) while others came from peers, teachers, or religious folks. It was really rough for me, and took me a long time to realize that what some people said didn't matter in the long run. It took me even longer to realize that in some instances I'd been brainwashed, or indoctrinated if you prefer.

I'm still a work in progress. I know more pauses will come in the future, and that sometimes I'll have setbacks. Sometimes I'll breakdown and freak out, wonder what the hell is wrong with me. But I also know that those times won't be the majority, and that when they happen they won't last. I won't be beaten by fear, by doubt. I will be myself. With all my wonders. With all my flaws. Everything.

I encourage you all to do the same. 

May your own journeys be filled with more ups than downs, 

more joy than sorrow, more tenderness than pain, and plenty

of whatever it is that makes life worth living for you.

Le Sigh...

So we've moved into our new house and everything is going great!

Except...

we're sick.

And...

there's no running water.

Sooo... addressing the first thing. I believe I started this whole thing off. I got sick, went to see the doctor, he gave me penicillin and sent me on my way. I started to get better, took the whole week's worth, and while I was doing that my sister got sick. Now my mom is sick, and I am too... again.

Went back to the doctor. Guess what he did. Any ideas? Whelp, he gave my sister a different kind of antibiotic than he gave me. For me? He checked my ears, took some blood to test for allergies, and sent me on my way. So apparently he thinks my issue is allergies... oh and salivary stones. Coughed one of those babies out right in front of him. But it's "nothing to be concerned about". Uh huh. Suuuure doc. 

The water thing is a bit of a pickle. We had some for about half a day. Then the thing crapped out on us. We've had a guy come out, and he's still not 100% sure what the issue is. Thankfully my family has had to endure worse conditions than this before so we know how to rough it for a bit. It's just... uncomfortable. Our landlord is doing everything in his power to get things worked out, which is nice. Most landlords we've had aren't so good at their job. It's awesome to have one now that cares.

All in all I'm just a little bit miserable right now, but doing my best to cope. Hopefully things look up soon. That's all for now. This is Kimi, signing out.

Peace!