We All Know Someone Like Her

we all know someone like her.
she who loves to be the bearer of bad news.
she who fervently hopes that some misfortune will befall you, so she may have something outside of her life to focus on.
she who compliments you with eyes of envy,
whose hello is never complete without a scan of your outside appearance.

we all know someone like her.
she who believes she has a right to know every detail of your life,
and an even stronger right to tell the whole word.
she who enjoys talking about others, but
fails to see that it is she who others should be talking about.
who is quick to point out any similarities between your character and hers,
and even quicker to point them out when they are similarities which drag your character down with hers. does it matter that most times these similarities only exist in her mind?

yes, we all know someone like her.
she whose conversations leave you feeling empty.
feeling that you wish you'd never stopped to say hello.
she who is quick to do whatever she wants,
but quicker to refuse to help others if it doesnt suit her.
who lets her emotions dictate her approach to others.
who feels entitled to verbally put everyone down when she's not feeling the best.
who is almost worse than america at sticking her nose into other people's business.
the girl who sidesteps her own problems by focusing on the imagined problems of others.
the girl who needs help. help that you are not willing to give her.
its difficult to continue trying to help someone who can only truly be happy for you when your life has taken a turn for the worse.

yes, she is a difficulty you must learn to bear. However hard that may be.

Happiness

we live in a world where the current mentality seems to be: why take a minute when you can do it in 30 seconds? quality seems to have come to be judged on speed. indeed, many would agree that the quality of tv seems to deteriorate the slower the channels take to load. for many, happiness is measured by the number of appallingly bad tv shows one can flick through in 10 seconds. because flicking has become the newly preferred form of interaction. flick through tv, flick through a book, flick your friends away when you're done with them, flick your food around your plate. ill stop, because the word has lost all meaning to me.
can you blame me for wanting to restore meaning to my life. to the lives of those who surround me. to shake everyone by the shoulders, including myself, and say: life doesn't get better the faster you do it.

i suppose this is reason behind the willingness of people nowadays to turn to medication so regularly. "oh you're feeling sad? well, you must be depressed! absolutely! depression! go to a doctor! get anti-depressants!" god forbid you might willingly accept feelings of sadness for more than a few minutes!
it's got the point where i can't even MENTION that i may be feeling any way other than chirpy and happy and wonderful and great. any slightest trace of a frown, and people are practically shoving you out the door to sort out your depression.
if i try and kill myself, then i give you permission to diagnose me with your "wealth of medical experience" and confidently assert that i am depressed. only then. any other times, accept the fact that perhaps im not that happy today, and that this could be for reasons other than a deep depression.
because, for some reason, the people of the world have been turned into a bunch of soppy little molly-coddled saps who seem to be of the opinion that a human being must constantly be happy. who ever said we had a right to be happy?

i read that somewhere once, and its true. our lives are currently geared towards gaining happiness; being happy; looking happy; smellng happy. if we could eat happy i'm sure we would! oh wait! ive forgotten that happy eating does now exist. like the girl who searches for happiness in a series of unstable relationships, pushing away the one person who wants to give her stability. why? because she wants happiness. perhaps she should stop and rethink her definition of being happy. being "happy" is a state of mind. you could go to a hypnotist and he could program you to feel happiness everytime you looked at a banana. surround yourself by bananas constantly and you would never again feel sad. do you see? buy this! buy that! do this! do that! look this way and you'll be happy.

life wouldn't be life if it didnt have its obstacles. making it over and through those obstacles on our own, unaided by science or medicine..that's called living. i agree that sometimes, one has no option other than to turn to the wonders of science. but in my opinion, those cases are genuinely rarer than we currently think. if you're lucky enough to have a life that has fewer than normal stresses and strains, count yourself lucky. happiness isn't a right. its a reward that we earn when we deserve it. i don't want it handed to me on a plate, or in a little bottle of pills. i want to work for it. i want to sweat. i want to get hurt. i want to suffer. i want to earn my happiness. because god knows, a cup of tea tastes so much better when you've worked hard all morning to earn it.

Why Do I Blog?

why do i blog? thats a question which was posed to me the other day. "why do you blog?" he wanted to know. "it seems to me that people blog for 2 reasons. either they feel a need to tell everyone what goes on in their life, or else they feel they have something to say."

do i agree with that? yes, i suppose i do. what other reason would there be to blog? either you feel that you possess some information that should be passed on, or you need to tell everyone what's happening in your life.

which category do i fall into? why do i blog? i dont know. its not to tell people the details of my life, as to be honest, i really can't. too many people read this. too many people who all know different sides of me. who all know "zena" from one small perspective. who all know multiple things about me, with no 2 people knowing exactly the same things. mother, sister, cousins, friends from all over the world, people ive dated, people im dating, people i may yet date, university friends, school friends, religious friends, those for whom the dancefloor is the new temple and pills the new bread. there are too many, and so in order that i keep myself in relatively safe waters, i just cannot blog about everything going on in my life.
personally, i wouldn't want to. some things are better kept private.

so why do i blog? maybe i feel i have something to say. maybe deep within me i feel there lies some secret to which only i hold the key. i do feel i have something to say. i havent said it yet. i dont know what "it" is. maybe "it" is this. these random posts that seem to mean nothing. maybe, like life, the journey is the destination. but its there. and its slowly coming out. there are things about this world i want to change. things i need to change. maybe thats where this desire to blog stemmed from. the dissatisfaction for the way things are in this world. the belief that i, one person, can change things. i can only try, and i can only blog. blog with no set reason, and with no predictable result. a random, all over the place blog, that gives you a small insight into the randomness that has become my life, and an even smaller insight into the craziness of my thoughts, in the hope that in taking the long way round, ill reach the point that im so desperately trying to reach.

maybe thats the reason.

Did I Just Brush My Teeth??

its amazing how, during the day, i'll get these flashes of inspiration! things i just must write about in this blog. yet, for some reason, when i've come online, checked my mail, done all your usual online routine stuff...the ideas have just dropped out of my head. just literally dropped out. does that ever happen to you? last night, after brushing my teeth, i was about to floss and i swear to god, i had to stand there for about a minute thinking.."DID i just brush my teeth?" i finally decided i HAD after feeling the brush to see if it was wet. ie making sure it had just been used! how old do you have to be to get alzheimers??
this is the problem. not living in the moment. not being fully conscious of all our actions. can you believe it i mean! forgetting whether you brushed your teeth 2 minutes after you had.

on another note, the thing i need to keep reminding myself on a daily basis: FACE YOUR FEARS!

Back Stabbing Saddam Hussein

Saddam Hussein's defence is starting.
If convicted he apparently faces the death penalty.
Funny isn't it how it's so obvious that he's going to be killed. This trial is being staged so that noone can turn around and say "hey! wait a minute! you never gave him a fair trial!"
i'm not saying this trial is fair. What i am saying is that noone in the world even CARES that it's going on.
honestly speaking, how many of you are regularly following this case? No one cares, and in effect, America is almost guaranteed the death of Saddam. As long as they follow the little protocols, those of 'justice', 'right to a trial' blah blah blah then they're flying.
I'll tell you who i want to see dead, and right now it's not Saddam.
How dare America get up on its high horse and claim to be on a moral highground when they are the ones who put Saddam in power and kept him there!
There's a word for it...its called back stabbing.

i just know it's true

the darkness of the night has fallen upon the buildings outside. inside the artificial sun has just risen. it is artificial because it pulls no one toward it. no one except the moths, who choose to be fooled. no gravitational pull. no attraction. not like the real sun outside. on a sunny day, you feel yourself turn your head toward the sun. like the flowers, the plants, the cat lazing on his back in the midday sun, you raise you neck and close your eyes and turn your face to bask in its warm light. this doesnt happen with the artificial sun that keeps us up all the night. an artificial sun, so we may ignore the beauty of the moon. the mystery of the stars. and the noise. it seems that one forever must have some noise about oneself. as soon as the tv is off, the radio comes on. even your laptop makes sounds. the keys clicking, the motor whirring. and all around the muffled voices of your neighbours. people whose lives are playing out so close to your own. whose daily habits you learn to expect, without ever knowing their faces. you know how your neighbour screams at his wife, but you could have passed him in the parking lot, and his would have been just another one of the empty faces you choose not to see. choose to ignore. or perhaps choose is the wrong word. have no reason to notice. an old man swayed on the sidewalk the other day. whether he was drunk, or just so old that he couldn't walk straight, i don't know. the crowds pushed around him, anxious to cross the road. your first instinct was to shirk away from him. as if you might catch something off of his unwashed clothes, his matted hair. as i crossed the street, i stopped and turned. maybe a moment of humaness, if that's even a word. but no, i looked at him, i turned and i kept going. he was just another homeless man. he must be alright, must be just another homeless person. nothing on the television said that there was a homemore man who died of a heart attack on the side of the road while pedestrians walked around him. because nowadays we use the tv to tell us whats happening in the world we exist in. hurry home from our walk in the park, so we won't miss the programme about the leaves falling from the trees. things are only real if they're shown through a square. try it. try cupping your fist into a cylinder and looking at the world through it. for some reason, it feels more real. why? i don't know. i just know it's true.

a rant and a rave...

At the very high risk of sounding materialistic and vain, which I strive not to be, allow me to get these rants off my chest

I hate the fact that I can't get a manicure/pedicure here because I know from experience that if I do, I'm just going to be pissed off because the standards are so low, and frankly a monkey could do a better job.

I hate the fact that I can't get my hair done, because simply the hairdressers in Ireland are nothing but sorry excuses who get annoyed if you say you don't like what they've done. Sitting there with what resembles a birds nest on the top of your head, and if you dare to say anything other than "lovely" your life as you know it is as good as over. Why do you think I always come back looking like I've fought a war?

I hate the fact that the beauticians don't know how to wax properly. That they don't know the difference between waxing, and breaking the hair at the skin. That they wax where you DON'T have hair, which any sane person knows just encourages more hair to grow.

I hate the fact that the masseuse's massage you like you're going to break. That they don't understand the fundamental concept of massaging...that is, work out the knots. Instead, they simply give the mandatory little rub to all parts of your back, call it a massage and charge you 50 euro.

Finally, I hate the fact that as well as looking after a house, paying bills, buying food, cooking, cleaning, trying to study, bringing up a cat who spends the nights awake and currently eats about twice his weight in food a day, worrying about a sister who doesn't need me to worry but for whom I can do nothing else, and crashing my car, I have to be my own beautician, hairdresser and manicurist. Mostly, I hate the fact that most of the time, I feel like a complete and utter failure in all the above aspects of my life. I think I hate that most of all.

Letter To America From Iran

I'll tell you this much...but Mahmood Ahmadi-Najad is the only one who seems to be talking sense in this God Forsaken world of ours.

CLICK HERE TO READ THE LETTER FROM MAHMOOD AHMADI-NAJAD TO GEORGE W BUSH

Apparently, George W Bush has refused to even acknowledge this letter, let alone answer it. Why?
Because for once someone is standing up to America's policies?
Because for once someone is strong enough to stand up to America and say, even though you are powerful, even though you are rich, even though every other country is scared of you, WE are not scared of you. We will NOT tolerate the way you treat the rest of the world. We will NOT STAND for being subjected to DOUBLE STANDARDS. We will not stand by and watch you ruin the world for the sake of your greed.

Probably. You see, sometimes, if you ignore something...it might just go away.
Not this time Bush..I really really hope.
Read the letter. How can you make up your minds if you don't know what both sides have to say? Click on the link, and read it.

honey in the matrix

if taunted, the honeybee will strike. but what motivates this suicidal tendency? does he know that with this sting, his life will end? does he know? does he weigh up the options carefully before launching the attack? is it rage that propels him? is it fear? does the honeybee take a vow of allegiance to his hive...to protect the queen, to protect their stock? is his life only as important as the protection it affords his community? or do you think he knows nothing of the consequences of this act? they say ignorance is bliss..did nature bless this creature with the ignorance that allows him to deliver this deadly prick? was it a kind allowance on the part of mother nature, or her idea of a cruel joke?
i was in a car accident today. you know what they say about things going in slow motion? its true. and yet, its more of a slow motion in retrospect. they say love at first sight happens only in retrospect. well the shock of a car accident rears its head only in retrospect. its shocking. ive been in shock all day. i keep replaying it in my mind, and thinking...if only i had been a second earlier. or a second later. if only.. if only.
should've, would've, could've. i hate it when people use those words. i know someone who constantly uses those words. the people who wait for life to happen to them. who sit back in a comfortable chair, wait all day, and as the sun goes down, wonders that perhaps, they should've got up and done something, and if they would've done so, perhaps they could've achieved the one thing they wanted to happen. they could've lived. life doesnt come to you. its there. take it or leave it. what did he say in teh matrix again? "how can you have time, if you don't take time?" and how true that is.

Mr. Time Waster Himself

It never ceases to amaze me, coming up to exams, how amazingly talented most people are at NOT studying. Apparently, for many college students, sitting in the library can be equated with studying in the library. Of course, I'm really not one to talk as, in times of need, I can be extremely inventive when it comes to finding ways of not hitting the books. Trying to study at home for me is a lost cause because, for some unknown reason, it suddenly becomes so incredibly important to do something as trivial as my washing! I mean there could be nothing in the bottom of the laundry bag but a pair of socks, but I will make it my business to FIND other things, ANY other things, that could be washed. For reasons beyond my control, hygiene seems to become a much more serious issue coming up to exams. So, it appears, does dusting, polishing, vaccuming, and sorting my cd's into order both alphabetically and chronologically. Of course, it takes a few hours to realise that just might be impossible...but not to worry, because by that stage its time to start cooking dinner. And as everyone knows, you should give yourself plenty of time to cook your standard 5 course evening meal. Sure I do this every day of the year!

Today, while sitting in the library, and actually studying might I add (because I am a mature, level headed, graduate now)..I was lucky enough to come back from the bathroom to find that Mr. Time Waster himself had taken up residence in the chair next to mine. It was an interesting few hours I must say, because I do believe that I have found the one person who just might be able to beat my friend Richard at wasting time!

He started out motivated enough. Highlighter pen at the ready. Photocopied article in front of him. Bent over the desk, furiously highlighting what seemed to me to be every single word on the page. Apparently though this seemed to be requiring him to expend more energy than his bowl of weetabix had given him, and after 5 mins or so, he laid the highlighter down and stretched. The sort of stretch you'd do after a 5 mile run, or a 5 hour exam...or seemingly a 5 minute highlighting session. Whoever said highlighting isn't a sport should talk to Mr. TW!
Time for a break evidently. And after a half hour chat with a friend of his, who I presume was also "studying" for the day, Mr. TW disappeared for a good hour only to return with a bottle of Sunny D and a box of revels. After spending an unnecessarily long time opening the box of revels, and sipping from his Sunny D, Mr. TW decided a spot of textual socialising was in order...proceeding to send texts to what seemed to be every single person in his phone book. *Sigh* job well done. Crisis averted. He found out what to put on that massive spot on his nose. Now it was time for a nap. So he lay his head on the table, on top of his highlighted article, and dozed off for 15 minutes or so. Nothing too long mind you. Not at all! Just a power nap! Sure, Margaret Thatcher SURVIVED on them! Just a little kip to keep the overactive brain cells on their toes. Everyone knows that an alert and keen mind is EXACTLY what is needed when one decides to pick at ones elbow for 20 minutes. Oh yes, after his nap, Mr. TW seemed to find some sort of scab on the tip of his elbow. I don't know, as I really couldn't bring myself to look. Don't know whether he got it off or not, I was too busy vomiting into my handbag.

After a while, I packed up my things, and headed home. While walking away from the desk, I turned around, and I swear to God, Mr. TW was stretching himself across the ENTIRE length of the desk he now solely occupied, smiling to himself and seemingly relishing the fact that NOW he could have a proper nap! Because THAT was the problem with his study technique!

Just "Fine"!

"Fine". The word has lost all meaning. Or perhaps aquired a new meaning. You see, nowadays, something is only fine if it, in actual fact, really isnt fine at all. Fine has evolved into "not-fine". Like if everytime you said yes you really meant "not-yes" (ie. no). Come to think of it though, isnt that what most women do?
I honestly prefer dealing with men, because they will always say yes when they mean yes, and no when they mean no. Although, I fear perhaps that this yardstick of sanity that the world has been clinging to throughout the ages is indeed sinking beneath the emergence, and recent creation, of the Metrosexual male. The man who is comfortably in touch with his feminine side. Who knows the winners of this years Oscars, and the location of his cuticles. Ask a man 10 years ago where his cuticles were and he'd think you were hitting on him!
I remember once, while taking part in a pageant, visiting a sheep farm. Our days were filled with visiting different places, and people, and yes, one day we were taken to a sheep farm. Needless to say, sheep farmers were present. Many of them. They were greatly removed from metrosexuality, and any type of sexuality I'd venture to guess! Anyhow, they were enjoying their day. Watching the girls in their pretty dresses sink lower and lower as their stilettos sank into the mud beneath their feet. Some girls mistakenly wore sandals. Myself and another included. And herein lies the story..for, and I swear to God, as we passed two sheep farmers on our way through the muck, one turned to the other, and with a face as serious as I've ever seen, said "Jesus Mick, but they've got fine toes too!"
Of course, here 'fine' meant 'fine'. and so I return to the point of my post. Which is that we should just stop asking people how they are. Because, all we're going to hear is "fine". Which actually means "not-fine", and really doesn't help the situation at all. Because you're not really getting a proper answer to your question. Of course, you could just not give a rats tail about how that person really is. Which I also fear, mostly is the case. So perhaps, we should go on asking people how they are when we couldnt care less, and hearing an answer that we know isnt true, but are thankful for, because when you meet someone in passing, the last thing you want to hear about is the fungus growing on their toes, or God forgive, the fact that they may be so hopeless and helpless and despairing that the only way out they can see is to end the life they've been given. No. Perhaps "fine" will do just fine. For now anyhow.

Someone You've Never Seen

Sitting here listening to Tom Waits "Closing Time".. "no one's awake except for the moon and me". obviously not quite, but sometimes it feels that way doesn't it? Sleep seems so futile sometimes. Unfortunately though, I can't cope without a good nights sleep. Although its occasionally tempting to have a good day's sleep, and to stay up through the night. So much more productive under the cover of darkness. Things can happen during the night, lives can change, there's something so much more magical about the night. About moonlight. "With nothing but moonlight to guide our paths, we shared a few nights of memorable laughs".
Also thinking about how people can just come back into your life. And it always happens when you least expect. You can do all you can to keep some people out, but others.. well others you just know will always have a foot in the door. well, for the time being anyhow. is there ever a right time to meet someone? more importantly, is there ever a wrong time? yes, i think so. i think the key is knowing yourself. if you dont know who you are, then how can you get to know other people? or maybe that's what we do. spend so much time and energy trying to get to know other people, that we forget to save some time for us. know what everyone's favourite colour is, except your own. who cares. favourite colours are like favourite hairstyles..they change. they change with time and they change with you. what happens though when you wake up one day and realise that you've never changed your hair and you have no idea whether you prefer blue, or black, or pink, or green. or whether you're just not really a colourful kind of girl. some people see the world in black and white. what about the shades of grey? colours seem different to different people. i say black, you say navy blue. the world is never seen in colour, because no one's colour is ever the same. just like no one's perception of you is ever the same. no one is ever going to know the real you, because there is no real you. You are who you become when you're with different people. you are who you want yourself to seem to be....
but, who are you when the lights are off, when everyone's gone, when the bar's stopped serving, and even the hobo's are asleep? who are you when the world as you've created it is stripped bare until the sun rises again? thats why the night is the scariest time for alot of people. because there's usually no one there with whom we can pretend to be who we want to be. the stage is dark, the curtains down, the audience is gone home...and the actress doesn't know how to make her legs move to take her off the stage, because she doesnt know how to act like herself. how can you act like someone you've never seen?

A Cone Too Far..

Currently, O'Mally has a huge plastic cone around his head. Doctor's orders, I wont go into the details. But do you think for one minute that he's sitting in a corner feeling sorry for himself? Do you think that he's given up eating, sleeping, playing, because he perhaps feels like a freak with a plastic cone on his head? Nope. Do you think he feels like less of a cat, if you will, simply because he no longer possesses that fundamental cat trait of being able to squeeze through small spaces? Nope. Is he on a diet, thinking that perhaps this turn of events is in someway related to his excessive consumption of catnip and kibbles? Nope.

In fact, it took him less than an hour to realise that there was no way the freaking thing was going anywhere anytime soon. It took him less than an hour to realise that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to be cone-free anytime soon. It took him that long to realise that you know what? Sure, its a little (read: alot) awkward. Sure its not very flattering. Sure his mom's gotta put his food into wierd shaped bowls in order that he may maintain some semblance of normality at mealtimes. Sure now instead of licking his body, he licks the plastic cone. Sure its annoying and bothersome. But you know what? I'm not going to let it ruin my life. I'm not going to let it get the better of me. Instead, I'm going to keep playing, keep living, keep going. It's only a plastic cone.

And you know what? I'm learning from this cat. Because, I'll tell you this much.. if that was me with the plastic cone around my head, I'd be curled up in the corner feeling VERY sorry for myself!

What Allergy??

You'd wonder why I got a cat when I'm deathly allergic to cats hairs.

Yes...I wonder that as well. Same way I sometimes genuinely wonder if the lights kinda faulty up there. You know, a flickering on and off kinda thing. The days and nights when I cant breathe through my nose, cant smell the roses of spring, cant pick him up without sneezing...I wonder why I decided to subject myself to it.
Yes, we all wonder why I sometimes do the things I do.

So why? And why don't I send him on to another home?

Because I can't. Because its not something I can do. Because I've made a commitment to him, and God knows even though its not easy getting me to commit, once I do, its permanent. Because the crazy cat lady would hunt me down and neuter me herself. Because he's just so God damn gorgeous. One look from those eyes and you'd melt too.

Nope. The point is, no matter how allergic I am to him, O'Malley is here to stay. He's a permanent fixture at Chez Zena, and you know what? I wouldnt have it any other way.

Just make sure to bring a box of tissues when you come round!

O'Malley

Oh, and his name is O'Malley.

Thanks for all the suggestions..it was a very hard decision to make

The Eyes Of My Eyes Are Opened

In the words of ee cummings
"i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)"

But For How Long More?

while driving i wonder why no driver smiles. why everyone has upon their face a look of sadness and regret. anticipation not of good times to come, but of the troubles that are bound to come their way. if we expect troubles then we will get them. if we don't we still might. but at least we've saved ourselves some years of worry. and yet, im not going to drive around with a stupid smile on my face, because its really hard to. beeping horns, dim-witted pedestrians who feel the need to cross as the traffic lights turn green, traffic jams, petrol prices, sun in my eyes. oh how i long for the simplicity of the days i never experienced. when the whole world you would ever know was a mere mile or two around you. the world is contracting, our own worlds are expanding, our ability to love perhaps shrinking, our capacity for real communication gone.
a few months ago i posted about our increasing ability to practice the art of what i called "politeful ignorance". click here to read it.
we've also become adept at believing that everyone is against us. with all that's going on around the world, its no wonder. what ever happened to helpful salespeople? or friendly drivers? or happy children?
well, maybe the children are still happy. but i cant help but wonder..for how long more?

A Break. With Normality..

It's really hard to study when you've got a million and one things going through your head. Its even harder when those million and one things are all the same one thought. just in different forms... quite pointless.
Ah its all really quite pointless if you think about it.
At the end of it all, it doesnt matter what we do. What we say. Whether we get out of bed in the morning, whether we do our job. Give it 50 years and the world will have forgotten who we are. Except for the small few who do something which this superficial world deems worthy of committing to its memory. The strong write history. So do the dictators, the controllers, and the "democratically elected elite". So why do we carry on? I dont know. Maybe because if we didnt we'd probably go crazy. Someone once said "We're all born crazy. Some of us stay that way."
It's those who live at the edges of society that still hold on to the craziness that lies within us. Those who have been shunned by state and society are those who are most in touch with the demons and deep emotions that we daily bury deeper into our subconscious. Deeper until one day some of us explode, and do something so "out of character" that we wonder how we ever thought he was "normal". It's not normal to conform. Or maybe it is. Normality is what we label it to be and in this world that we live side by side in, conformity is normality. The law tells us what is normal. The law is written by those who for some reason believe themselves to be more "normal" than others. Some people are born more "normal" than others. Like the animals in Orwells Animal Farm, "all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others". Abiding by this code of normality is unfortunately what most of us spend our entire lives worrying about. We worry that we'll betray the demons within us if we act strange. Yes, normality is the mask we hide behind when we can't face the depths of our emotions. And yet...what would happen if there wasnt this yardstick against which we can measure our actions? How would we ensure society would be protected from those who would cause it harm? Perhaps normality is safety... and it is if you think about it. When you meet someone who arouses intense emotions within you, a sense of fear overcomes you. A sense that you may have met a person for whom "being normal" is significantly harder. May have met a person who has access to a part of humanity, of eternity, of life, that we have forsaked in order to conform.

Oh, I dont know. I dont know where this is going...but I do know i have to go. Adios.

CAT!

Presenting..due to popular demand...

CAT!



This afternoon I put a blanket on my windowsill, and he had a brilliant time just lounging in the sun watching everyone come and go downstairs!






So guys, any names spring to mind? Oh and, the pictures dont do him justice! *sigh*

Stolen My Heart With A Meow

Two days ago, I took a step. A small step for mankind, a gigantic step for me. I adopted! He's less than a year old, with the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen. Big green almond eyes that seem to search your soul when he meows for his supper. Yes, he's a cat. Perhaps more accurately, he's a catten. Not a kitten, not yet a cat. Oooh, I can see Britney making a fortune out of this one!
He's been with me 2 days already, and although he's stolen my heart, I just cant think of a name that suits him! Currently stuck between a few...including Toulouse. O'Malley was a favourite for a while..he had been hit by a car so his back legs are a bit wobbly still. Currently he swaggers around with a bit of a John Wayne strut! Same strut that Thomas O'Malley the alleycat had in "The Aristocats". My boy definately always gets the girls! Too bad he's *neutered* shhhh

Adopted him from this classic crazy cat lady. I swear to God her house is overrun with cats. I'm talking opening the front door and a swarm of cats milling in the hallway! Apparently though, once you adopt, (I keep referring to adoption because, and I kid you not, she made me sign ADOPTION PAPERS!!) you're not allowed to have a life. Nope, everything must be pushed aside for your cat..and although this seems to be what she herself chose to do, its not the path I personally feel inclined to walk!
"DUBLIN??!! YOU'LL BE GOING TO DUBLIN?? But...But...But what will happen to HIM??"
"INTERNATIONAL POLITICS???!! BUT...What about HIM??"
I assured her I would look after him, after which she turned to him and said "Did you hear that Sweetheart, you're going to be an international jetsetter!" So it seems I have to take him wherever I go. Lord above, it'll all work out, I cant be expected to decide all this now! By the way she was talking, she seemed to be expecting me to call up some random airline and book a seat for my cat "in the event that I may be travelling around the world for work purposes in ten years time!" ?!

She had named him Sweetheart. Although it suits him, he is a sweetheart!, I don't think I really want to be bringing up a cat with masculinity issues. Perhaps Hercules? Or Thor? Hmmmm...Or maybe the Rock! Ideas??