Archive for January, 2012

January 29, 2012
Filed Under (You don't say...?) by svana

Recently, I’ve been watching a series called Slings & Arrows. A brilliant production set in a fictitious Canadian town. Sadly, it seems to be only three seasons long. Centered around a struggling arts festival theatre and the works of William Shakespeare. I think William had a grasp of how the universe plays with us like a cat with a catnip mouse, or rabbit-fur mouse, take your pick.

This morning, because it is in the wee hours, it is not me typing this, but dictating it to my Beloved Blog Bitch (Hello, Spouse!) because the right side of my body decided it was going to be unresponsive. That’s not to say I have been drinking heavily, nor have I indulged in strenuous sports-like activities. Nope, I had a seizure. It sucks.

You may be wondering what the hell a seizure has to do with a TV series. It’s my opinion that the irony of many of the situations found in this series are not unlike what we deal with day-to-day, but fail to notice. We notice the irony in a TV series, because we are capable of watching it at a distance. We laugh at these poor characters as they tumble through various situations that can only be found in one of Bill Shakespeare’s plays, which they are trying to produce.

The similarity between watching this series and watching myself post-seizure allows me to identify the irony in my own life and to highlight it with a bright pink highlighter. I hate the colour pink.

The irony of my current circumstance is that I can complete a regular sudoku puzzle 10 seconds faster post-seizure with my left hand. I can complete a “nightmare”-level puzzle in 9 minutes post-seizure with my left hand. I am right-handed, folks. Seems to me that my brain works better after a little natural electroshock therapy, and that is how the universe fucks with me.

I don’t think that I would have recognized and appeciated the irony if it were not for Slings & Arrows. Nice skull, Oliver. If anybody wants to know, they can look it up. Better yet, watch the series.

P.S. Another irony to ponder: The war cry goes up for intelligent television. Why is it all the intelligent programming gets cancelled after only 1, 2, or 3 seasons? Another way the universe fucks with us. All the good shows gets cancelled because demographics show that people want to watch train wrecks like “Jersey Shore”. It’s bloody incomprehensible to me.



January 12, 2012
Filed Under (Family, They rule the house, seriously) by svana

It’s kind of mind bending to realize that a whole year has passed since our beloved Mousie left us. She was such a wee thing, yet her footprint in our lives was huge.

We had a love triangle in the house… Mousie loved Winston, and Winston liked Mousie, and at the time Winston loved Belle. Belle barely tolerated Winston.

Often, I would come home to find Winston on the back of my spouse’s chair with Mousie nestled in his belly fur, tummy to tummy. A year later Winston will not sleep in that spot, because Mousie isn’t there, tucking herself into his warm fur. Only hours after Mousie died, Winston jumped up to “the spot”, curled up and waited for Mousie…it took Winston 15 minutes to realize that Mousie wasn’t going to be there for a cuddle. It was at that point when, I believe, Winston discovered he loved Mousie. He only understood it through her absence. It was also at that point that Belle comforted Winston, and it only happened once. Belle jumped up to see why Winston was calling, she shuffled him bodily to the other side of the back of the chair, and laid down with him. They stayed like that for almost 2 hours.

Anyone who knows Belle, knows she is the undisputed boss of the house and does not cuddle with any other fur person. Anyone who has met Winston knows that he’s all heart and no brain. If you have a pulse and fingers to scratch his head, you are god-like. In addition, Winston has the memory of goldfish. Winston can spend an hour in someones lap, jump down to get a drink, return and lie through his tooth (yes, I did say tooth), about how “No one EVER pays attention to me!” I suppose that’s part of his charm.

I know in the final days that Mousie was with us, she wished that I’d stop trying to hydrate her…that I’d stop trying to find things to tempt her to eat…that I could be less selfish than I was, and just let her go. Mousie was the runt of her litter of 6, and the only survivor. I was there when Mousie was born, and I was the asshole that purged the fluid from her lungs for 5 hours…and I was the person who gave her a home.

Mousie loved 2 individuals, and tolerated 1.

She loved her Daddy (that spouse of mine), and she loved her Winston. She tolerated me. This is was not unexpected, as I was the person that did all the bad things…I cut claws, administered medication, doled out the reprimands and made the vet appointments…and held her still for the rectal thermometer. The only vet appointment Mousie ever forgave me for was getting her spayed. She staged a jail break from her post-surgical crate and came to cuddle in my lap in front of the fireplace. This memory will trump all the “final moment” memories, because she trusted me to give her comfort.

Winston continues to mourn the loss of Mousie. There are days where he looks so bereft and so small that I fear we will lose him to a broken heart. A year later, Winston will try to lay in the spot that he shared with Mousie, and realize that she’s not coming for a cuddle…and he will come sit next to me on the couch. The expression on his face, in his eyes, is so very sad. As if to say, “Mom, bring her back”… I really wish I could.

Winston & Mousie



January 09, 2012
Filed Under (The Happy Sad Things, You don't say...?) by svana

Yet again my technical ineptitude has hit an all time high.

Must be the lack of uterus. Yes, I do believe that not having a uterus is to blame. Never mind all the tripe floating around the internet about feeling like less of a woman because you’re missing a part of your body that defines you as being a “woman”. Honestly, I still have my damn ovaries and they remind me often enough that I’m still a woman….failing that, I have 9 cats that feel compelled to stomp on my breasts at 3:00 in the morning when they want attention… If that doesn’t cover my “woman-ness”, I have a husband who still, after 13 years, looks at me like I’m the next best thing to a grilled cheese. (I have been corrected, “A havarti and hot genoa salami grilled cheese sandwich”)

The last year was filled with all sorts of changes, some good and some not so good.

We lost our beloved fur person, Mousie and we lost our beloved Nanny. I’d like to think that the two of them are hanging out together somewhere, enjoying the sunshine.

We welcomed two new feral kittens into our home. We looked forward to new paths, new technologies and new addictions…like the App Store, iTunes and yarn. And damn if I didn’t misplace that pesky uterus somewhere in the vicinity of the hospital. If anyone sees it trying to find it’s way home…direct it south….way south.

I hope 2012 continues as it has started, filled with discovery, joy, laughter, family and dear friends…both four footed and two footed. I know irreverance is my reverance, and that is something that will not change. Love me or hate me, but Ruthless Compassion is back in business….and if you don’t like what I write, feel free to move along, this isn’t about you…it’s about me.



January 08, 2012
Filed Under (Uncategorized) by svana

I just know I’ve got to say something profound for the New Year…hmmmmm…..nope, fuck it. But hey, I’m baaaaaack!