juushika

Cat story the first.

At evil o'clock (usually between 6 and 8 a.m.) the cat wakes me by scratching at my closet door. The closet is where the food lives; she eats "breakfast" at 11a. If I yell at and/or ignore her and go back to sleep, she'll do it again, every hour or so. She'll only do it if I'm sleeping. She does it because I'm sleeping.

If I get up, she'll run under the bed. I can't bribe her with a piece of food—I must actually put an entire serving in her bowl. And then I pick her up before she can eat it and lock her in the bathroom until 11a.

This morning, she did the scratching thing and I did the yelling thing and then she ... seemed to let me go back to bed. But then I would hear a random, weird and muffled, scratching noise, but I couldn't see the cat. It was less annoying but much stranger than usual, so I finally got up. I couldn't find her anywhere—in the closet, under the bed.

The cat had gotten herself stuck in a mostly-zipped up suitcase in my closet.

I rolled the suitcase out of my room and into the bathroom and then I let her out so that she could spend the next few hours not annoying me.


Cat story the second.

When I was in San Francisco, Dee went up to see the Mariners for their opening game. We were going to ask our neighbor to catsit, so she was out of town; instead, Devon drove up for a few days. (It gets better: This week, my father is driving down to California to meet my mother, who is coming back northward after a few months spent with my grandparents in Texas. While he's in California, I'm heading to Corvallis to housesit and watch Jamie the dog.) Just after he came home, we had the following IM conversation.

Devon: I didn't know when you were feeding August, so I just fed her every twelve hours. You know 11:00 am and 11:00 pm. I don't know how much she liked waiting that long for foods in the morning.

Me: yep that's exactly when I've been feeding her actually
so that "waiting"
was not waiting
it was her normal time

Devon: Sweet.

Me: NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL

Romance is defined by the people involved, of course—their tastes, weaknesses, personalities—but in mine own relationship few things are more romantic than (in a conversation about using one of the Zunes for a day):

Me:...well I wouldn't want to be spoiled or anything.
Devon: When are you ever not spoiled?

Because from him to me, that's the purest and sweetest expression of love.

Anyhow. The good news is I've been better these last two days. I know this is ironic coming on the heels of an update about how depressed I am, but it's nonetheless true. Yesterday I cleaned the room, and was therefore productive and mostly content. Today Devon dropped me off downtown for a bit, and it was wonderful. It was, in fact, almost exactly what I was aiming for in this post about planning to get out and about more often: "careful, short hours spent around books, coffee," ... no trees because it was temperamental and chilly out, but I'm sure you follow. I went to Starbucks for a soy mocha (kaimetso, did I mention that I drink soy now? Your mention of it a bit ago convinced me to finally give it a try, and not only does it fail to upset my tummy it also has a wonderful texture and tastes delicious—and silly as it is I feel better now that I'm back to a froufrou drink with my "tall soy mocha" and yes I know I'm shallow) and then walked the few blocks to the library; I penned a book review which I should type up soon, jotted down a to-read list out of Little Red Riding Hood Uncloaked, and did a bit of book browsing followed by reading on fairy tales and related subjects.

I found a chair at the library (up on the second floor, although next time I'm there I shall poke around to see if it has a twin somewhere not in the middle of things) that I would have kidnapped if I could have done so covertly. It was asymmetrical and plush, a comfortable and almost handsome beast with an oversized swooping shell back. The asymmetry made it possible to curl up against one side or lean an arm against the other: a chair of a dozen positions, of never growing stiff or bored; a chair of great comfort. I took my shoes off and snuggled up and was at home there—a great place for some quality reading. It's a pity I would have been rather conspicuous lugging it down the stairs, or it would be home with me now. (Where we'd put it is anyone's guess.)

I was at some point supposed to call Devon and tell him I was ready to be picked up; instead I got engrossed in my reading and lost track of time, so he just came down and found me himself. There's something joyful about glancing up to see someone you recognize—and love. We went out to dinner afterward, because Thursday is our weekly date night. Later in the evening we watched Picnic at Hanging Rock, which I loved (though Devon found it only "okay").

Today I would have been content just to get out of the house, drink my coffee and check out the book I had on hold and go to dinner with the boy, and that's the secret I think: to do something—a little something, preferable a something which doesn't require much brain or skill so that I can feel accomplished without too high a chance of failure; if the smarts and skill chose to follow, all the better. It can be a step out of the depression, and may even lead to good things. I know that to most "normal" people this sounds obvious, the common and poor piece of advice to snap out of it—but you have to remember that depression is not logical and rarely sees any potential for positive change. It's hard to force yourself to try something else, to even think about trying something else. Thus the monotony of hopelessness and uselessness.

Deciding to try something else isn't the end of the battle, either: these last few days could have easily collapsed around me (too clumsy to clean, too unmotivated by lack of result...; too unmotivated to get dressed and moving, to overwhelmed to remain in public...) and I did collapse upon returning this evening—my back hurts and I'm exhausted and slow and stupid. Tomorrow I'll spend all day in bed, trying not to get angry at myself if I don't have the strength to type up that review. But we get the point—I get the point, because writing this is mostly a reminder to my own self not to get swept away by one upturn and then crash hard if/when it doesn't continue.

It's not perfect. It's not a promise. But it has been a pair of good days, and today in particular was great—and that is wonderful.

So my dear friend Express (ryo_baka) IMed me about a Second Life fashion blog run by a rather over-the-top gay male prone to wearing corsets and fishnet and buckle pants, and we compared notes about his fashion sense. (If you're confused by the "/me"s, that comes from Second Life too.) The conversation that followed, well, it's classic Juu, and so I'm preserving it and presenting it to the general public.

Juushika:: my version of fashion is different from yours :P

Express: the pants >.<

Juushika: I'm not saying they're normal or anything
but I think they're not bad on a guy ^^

Express: /me was trying to be open-minded
but.. there's only so far you can open

Juushika: /me gigglesnorts
dude
that is a gay pun if I ever saw one

Express: ....

Juushika: ^___^

Express: you see gay everywhere don't you

Juushika: it is everywhere
but seriously you can not say you don't see it there :P

Express: only after you pointed it out
you're like rule 34

Juushika: <3

Express: except is like juu rule 34
Juu's Rule 34: If it is exists, it is gay.

Juushika: this is so true
and I so want to quote it on my LJ >.>

Express: go ahead :P

I'm spending this morning/early afternoon with my family. I came home for Sunday breakfast, and then my father and I went to go pick my sister up at the train station. She's coming down for a day and a half so that she can go to the U of O orientation, as she's transferrring there from U of W.

On the car ride back to the house:

Sister: What are we having for dinner?
Papa: What do you want?
Sister: Chicken.
Papa: What kind of chicken?
Sister: Cooked.

Black sheep as I am, I am most certainly a part of this family.

Back at Devon's house, we are currently without internet and will be so until Monday afternoon. I've been filling the free time with much reading. Meanwhile: Mark, I got the package, and will respond in all thanks when I've tested scents a bit ^_^; Bart, I'm so sorry I haven't written yet but I will soon; everyone else, I'm not ignoring you, just unable to read LJ or anything else for that matter.

Hoping all is well!