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Showing posts from August, 2013

Dream meandering

I keep having this recurring dream. I know everyone does, at least if you can remember your dreams, chances are you have a couple, three, five, that repeat randomly. I've always had a couple, and they're very, very normal: late for class and can't remember my locker combination; taking a test, or giving a speech; being chased; flying, or swimming under water (curiously enough, I never drown, nor do I feel suffocated-- usually I'm able to breathe just fine, and always think, "Isn't that handy, my gills came back". No, I don't know why, but it's kinda nice.)

These dreams seem to be a common thing for most of humanity; we have the same subconscious fears, so it makes sense that we'd have the same recurring nightmares/bad dreams/WTF was that shit! In fact, I think it makes perfect sense that we'd even dream, as a whole society or world, about being late for school or work, or falling, or being chased; especially the visceral nature of the chas…

More about fostering kittens

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We have been fostering kittens since April; this means we take them home, feed them, care for them, socialise them and love them to pieces until they reach the magical weight of two pounds. When they're at two pounds, they can handle the anaesthetic and surgery for sterilisation; much like us, they have to be healthy enough for surgery, and it's my job as a foster parent to help ensure this.

The first group was ten kittens; two litters, one of six, and one of four. The six-litter was older, perhaps six weeks old; the four was barely three weeks, and all of them still had blue eyes! One group had been dropped off at the Hermitage, and the other was abandoned at Valley Animal Hospital-- in a tupperware bowl! Imagine our horror, those poor babies, just dropped off like they were rubbish to be left on the side of the road.

We worried ourselves sick over the little dudes, as the tiniest ones (their names are Bavard and Finn, now!) were barely fifteen ounces when we got them. Kira, …

Meandering thoughts on mental illness and doubts

I know I haven't been writing, but I have been busy with fostering and work. I got hired in at the Hermitage a couple weeks ago, and the adjustment of schedules has been a little difficult. I'll write more about my awesome, kick-ass job later. Today, I want to talk about mental illness.
I read Salon.com with some regularity. Maybe twice a week I pop over there to see what's up, and what's new. A couple weeks ago I found this article, and as I adore Greta Christina, I read it! (She's an amazing speaker and writer, and you can see her blog here).
I remember I had seen a headline at CNN that Rick Warren's kid had committed suicide and that week Warren had finally started preaching again. I didn't know anything about the gent, except he was Warren's kid, and well, I have a very low opinion of Rick Warren. That doesn't mean I celebrated his death, or anything like that; in fact, I felt bad for his family, like everyone with a heart does when we hear a…

August is "Child Support Awareness Month" huh...

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Trigger warning:
If you're reading this and we're close, you know I've got an ex who doesn't like to pay child support. If we're not close, or I haven't known you very long, this might be news. What follows is a ranty, sometimes profane look at child support. I decided to write it after reading this article from Alternet, talking about debtor's prisons in this day and age. If you disagree with me, please, tell me why. I'm curious, and would love to see how you think this situation should be absolved.

OK, so, August is Child Support Awareness Month.

I learned that this is a throw back to the welfare thing that Clinton did in the 90's. While I think it was probably a good idea I do think that now it's more lip-service and self-glorification than anything really worthwhile. Think about it-- "see, see, we're doing something about this rash of dead beat parents who won't pay support! See, see?"  [This isn't a new problem, eithe…