That Darn Cat.

I confess...I make no sense whatsoever. But I tend to believe that we as a species are indeniably weird. Not everyone can admit it, but it's true. The things that we love...the things that we hate. There is no rhyme or reason to it.

For example (and you knew one was coming): I am completely and utterly disgusted by the fact that the M-I-L's cat comes into my house and hops up on my table and climbs onto my countertops. It's dirty; it's gross, and she leaves her muddy cat paw prints all over my white-washed picnic-style table. There's no telling what she's tracking all over the surface upon which I eat.

Now, that being said, I somehow think it's perfectly acceptable to let my dog lick my face (and yes, I've occasionally caught my mangy mongrel licking his...well, you know). I can recognize that both concepts are probably disgusting to a normal person, but you would think that if you're okay with one, you should be okay with the other.

Well, I'm not.

And now the M-I-L is in the UK and we are taking care of this table-hopping-counter-top-climbing cat. Now, I do love the cat...despite the fact that she makes my eyes itch and I sneeze if she gets too close...but I do love Tigerlily. I just don't love her on my kitchen table. I especially do not love her hopping up on my countertop when I am preparing my tuna sandwich. I also do not love her clawing up the new Indian carpet. Or scratching the bed post in the middle of the night.

On the other hand, I do love my dog's utter adoration of this crazy feline. And I kinda love that while she is staying with us, Moose is in complete bliss. Seriously, it's hard to get him to come to bed at night because she is sleeping on the Indian carpet, so he too wants to sleep on the Indian carpet (of course, he eventually misses the electric blanket and creeps into bed with us). And while he's usually tough to get out of bed in the morning, as soon as he hears me whispering to Tigerlily at six am, he is up-and-at-em and ready to begin his day.

Ah, animals. What would we do without them?

But no real revelations here today, I just felt the need to confess the bizarre fact that I let my dog cover me in kisses, and yet I shout at the cat for leaving paw prints on my table.

Plus, I needed an excuse to post these adorable photos. So cute. Moose is definitely in love (and I'm starting to suspect that the feelings are mutual).

PS For the unfortunate few that did not get the significance of my aptly named post - That Darn Cat was a Disney movie starring Hayley Mills, who is still one of my faves, despite how uncool that makes me. So, please, run to the video store. Run.

The Liberal Libra

Things are looking pretty bleak lately, huh?
The war. The economy. The housing market. The rising costs of food and fuel.

The more I read, the more depressed I feel. And yet, like a masochist, I keep going back for more. I lose entire afternoons devouring online news. My mornings are filled with CNN and/or Sky News. I even listen to podcasts from the Economist and NPR while I jog. I’ve always thought it’s important to know what’s going on in the world, but as an American living abroad, keeping up with current events has become even more critical. I guess the more I experience of this world, the more I seek to understand my place in it – not just as an American – but as someone hoping to make it better. Plus, let’s be honest, I don’t want to sound like the stereotypical American idiot when someone asks my opinion about whatever is making headlines at the moment. I’m terrified that whatever comes out of my mouth represents the “American viewpoint.” So, no pressure, right?

Only despite my mass media consumption, I still don’t feel particularly educated or informed. Instead, I feel confused and overwhelmed. I feel like I want to hide out under the duvet with my Happy List for awhile. It all seems so hopeless, and I’m not sure what to think.

I graduated from Vanderbilt with a degree in communications, and much of what I learned there – or what they tried to teach me – was how to think critically when consuming mass media. I did well in school, so you would think I’d excel at breaking down newspaper articles, online columns, and over-the-top emails about current events. And yet, lately it seems like the more I read, the more confused I become. When I’m reading some conservative email my mother has sent me, it kinda makes sense. But when I’m reading my favorite columnist from the New York Times, well, he makes sense as well. I can see the bias in both, and yet, I can’t always decide which one I agree with, because at the moment I’m reading it – I tend to see their point.

I blame my astrological sign. (I realize I’m losing some credibility here, but bear with me.) Libras are known for balance, for their ability to weigh both sides of an argument. They’re also known for being indecisive. So you see? I’m not an idiot, I’m just open-minded. And yet, when condescending political junkies talk about the ‘stupid public’ believing whatever the news media feeds them, I feel like they are attacking me. And I’m not stupid. But I am confused.

All that I’m sure of is this: I want the world to be a better place, and I believe it can be. The problem is I’m not exactly sure how. Every politician claims to have the answers though. No one runs for president on the premise of keeping things just like they are. Everyone wants to believe our world can be better, but how do we know which plan will make it so? And I don’t just mean for me personally, who will put more money in my pocket, but who will make our country, our world, a better place to be?

I certainly don’t have the answers, but when Obama tells me that more social programs paid for by higher taxes on the wealthy are the solution, I believe him. But then I get that email (again) about the ten men who have lunch every week and split the bill according to the tax code…you know the one, right? Well, that makes me wonder if “the Bush tax cuts for the wealthy” might not be so evil after all. And then McCain says those tax cuts don’t just help the wealthy, they help small businesses too, which of course aides the economy. But someone has to pay for the “change” Obama proposes, and the money saved by getting out of Iraq isn’t going to cover it (mostly because it will just be shifted to Afghanistan!).

As usual, I digress. But here’s the thing: I suppose I’ve come to think of the Democrats as the “kinder” party. And do you blame me? Most of the conservative emails and articles I read are usually about how Nancy Pelosi wants to take my stock market dividends and give the money to illegal immigrants or how Barack Obama will spend my retirement money on health care for people who don’t pay taxes. Well, that doesn’t exactly sound fair, but aren’t we supposed to help the poor and less fortunate? Isn’t that what being a good person is all about?

When I put it that way, I suppose you can tell that I have picked a team. I’m just not 100% certain about my decision. I find myself arguing both sides of the issues, depending on who I’m talking to. Liberal or conservative, I’ll nitpick why and what they believe for hours. Not because I’m trying to be a jerk, I do it because I’m curious. And a bit envious. I want to have convictions and be able to argue intelligently about those convictions, and right now I’m not convicted. I may have picked a team, but I still have my reservations…

Maybe everyone does. I suppose I can’t expect to find a politician or political party that I agree with completely. It’s just that at times I feel like a bit of a cliché – the idealistic youth, personifying Winston Churchill’s famous quote: “Any man who is under 30, and is not a liberal, has not heart; and any man who is over 30, and is not a conservative, has no brains.” The quote always makes me angry, but there is some truth in it, I guess. As people get older, they usually earn more money and all of a sudden those ‘higher taxes for the wealthy’ don’t seem like such a great way to pay for the social programs they once advocated. It's kinda sad, actually. Who knows, maybe as I get older I too will feel differently, but I hope not. I want to believe that even if Obama’s proposal to raise taxes on families earning over $250,000 applied to me that I would still give him my vote.

I’m probably pissing off everyone today - liberals and conservatives alike. The liberals are appalled that I would even consider the conservative point of view, and my conservative family and friends can’t believe I would be so stupid as to think of casting my absentee ballot for ‘B. Hussein Obama.’ But there you have it. And now that I've put it all out there, feel free to send me emails and articles that will keep me up at night questioning my beliefs…It's torture, but I secretly love it.

Tribute to Girlfriends

Last week, my e-friend posted a blog discussing her concerns about a lack of ‘forever friendships’ in her life. Well, I am blessed enough to consider myself somewhat of an expert in the field of female friendships, so I was compelled to comment on the subject. But as you know, I tend to ramble on a bit when I’m particularly motivated, so here is the link to her original post, and what follows is the extended version of my comment…

Ah, the bonds between women…the complexity is what makes female friendships both magical and maddening. When done right, the love between friends is unconditional, but that doesn’t mean our relationships don’t come with a bit of envy, judgment, and expectation on the side. But what makes a friendship last? Well, not all of them do. And that’s okay. As my e-friend said, friendships come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. And lifetime friendships are few and far between. If you have any at all, you should consider yourself lucky. I certainly do. When I think about the friendships in my life, I know that I have been blessed beyond any expectation. But now is not the time to gush about the love I feel for my girlfriends. No, right now I’m more interested in what makes a forever friendship work. Because a friendship usually begins as a result of shared circumstances – school, work, a shared hobby, a similar lifestyle – but circumstances change; so what makes a friendship last beyond the dorm, or the kids’ playgroup, or the apartment complex, or the restaurant gig?

I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I’ve decided that what makes a friendship last is a sincere appreciation for one another; it’s a true admiration for who that person is, no matter what else is going on in your lives. You may choose different paths for your lives, but you maintain a respect, a true fondness, for that person, and the love you feel instills a need to maintain contact – maybe not every week or even every month – but you are bonded to each other, and nothing can change that.

In a forever friendship, both parties understand that sometimes you will be closer and feel more connected than others, and it may not always be at the times you’d expect. Lifetime friends know each other, really know each other, and can cope with the fact that you screen your calls during Grey’s Anatomy or that she never remembers birthdays or that you simply don’t ‘do’ baby showers. A forever friendship shouldn’t feel like work. Like any relationship, it takes effort, but it shouldn’t mean you are constantly apologizing or feeling bad about your decisions. The tides of friendships ebb and flow, and sometimes you feel distant, but then the tides can turn and you find yourselves closer than ever.

One of my oldest and dearest friendships began when I was five years old. But then, when we were eleven or twelve, she took back my half of our ‘Best Friends’ necklace. I was hurt, yes, devastated even, but something told me it wasn’t over. We were connected. And despite the traumatic ‘break-up,’ I was certain that the separation was simply one phase of our relationship. I felt confident that whether she knew it or not, we were forever friends. No necklace could change that.

And it didn’t.

We weren’t as close as we had been, but we remained a part of each other’s lives, and shortly before her high school graduation, she very symbolically returned my half of the necklace. A few years later, I stood beside her at her wedding. Then, it was me who drifted away. First to New York…then to London. But I came back, searching for my forever friend. Needing her always, but particularly at the big events. Marriage. Deaths. Births.

Now, our friendship continues to go through phases, but through it all, she remains one of the people I love most in this world. Our connection is based in the knowledge that she knows me, accepts me, loves me; and when I need her, really need her, she will be there for me, just like I will be there for her. No questions asked. That fact I know for certain, and that is what a forever friendship is. That’s what I think anyway.

And on that long-winded note, I will close with a poem from a book I gave my forever friend at her high school graduation. She recently transcribed it for me in an email…

Yes, we’re that cheesy. And yes, I totally love it.

"With My Love As Of Old"

The roads we chose diverged so little at the setting out
and seemed so nearly side by side!

A little while we spoke across the way,
then waved our hands and then. . .

The hills between, life's other voices and the nights,
The silences. . .

Old friend, no new friend takes your place.
With me as well
The hours and days flow by and lengthen into years,

But I do not forget. And not a thought that you have had of me --
Whether you wrote or spoke it, or, more like,
Just thought of me and let it go at that --
But it came winging through the silences!

Wherever you are, across the distance I give you my hand,
With my love as of old.

by John Palmer Gavit

And now, to wrap up the love-fest, please enjoy this video tribute to my girlfriends (though not all of them are pictured here)!

The Happy List

So, I guess you could say, I’ve been a bit gloomy as of late. And while a little angst may be good for the artist’s soul, I’m not finding it particularly motivating. In fact, lately, this blog has started to feel more like a school assignment in my least favorite class rather than a fun, juicy email to everybody I know.

How’s that for honesty?

I’m not throwing in the towel forever, but it’s just not happening this week. So instead of spending yet another hour trying to formulate some witty commentary on a relevant topic, I am instead going to take this time to list a few of the things that have made me smile this week. It’s all very Oprah, I know, but I’ve been dwelling on the negative lately, and clearly, I need a good kick in the pants to remind me that despite the war, the economy, cancer, and a potential actor’s strike, there is still plenty to smile about…

1. Peanut butter soup. The official recipe was for Nutty Sweet Potato Soup, but since peanut butter happens to be one of my favorite foods, I may have added slightly more than the recipe suggested...hence Roger’s renaming of my new favorite soup.

2. Finally winning at Scrabulous (okay I haven’t officially won yet, but I’m in the lead.)

3. “Would you believe Chuck Norris with a BB gun?” said by Steve Carrel in Get Smart. It made me laugh out loud in the movie theater, and then every time I thought about it this week, I giggled again.

4. Spicy Indian curry.

5. Moose in the bathtub. Enough said.

6. Monkey with a mirror. A friend at work emailed this video to me and I can’t stop giggling...probably because I can totally relate!


7. 30 Seconds. I’m pretty bad at it, but the game was really fun (however, the wine may have had something to do with it too).

8. Michael Cera in Arrested Development. We've been watching the series again, and I love it even more the second time around.

9. Wine and sushi.

10. Top Deck Cadbury Chocolate Bar (consumed with wild abandon post wine and sushi).

And of course, emails and phone conversations with distant loved ones always make me smile. (So thanks for those!)

It occurs to me that perhaps too many of these are food related. Is that wrong? Oh well. That’s all I got for the moment. Now, what makes you smile? Feel free to share. Seriously, please share...especially if it's chocolate.

The Other "C" Word

Chemo. The cure that’s worse than the cancer itself. Surely this is some kind of cruel joke. How can poison be a cure? How can something that makes him so miserable, simultaneously make him well? Then again, I suppose we don’t know for certain that it is making him well. And that makes the misery of it even more infuriating. If we knew without question that if he could just get through the chemo, the cancer would disappear, perhaps it would be a bit easier. But this not knowing…it’s infuriating. Still, we try to stay positive as we watch him suffer. Accepting the fact that all we can do is hope. And pray. And hope some more.

The last time I wrote about The “C” Word, I was angry. I was ready to start a riot when I learned of Mrs. T’s cancer diagnosis. I couldn’t believe it was happening – I still can’t. Then, just a few weeks later, we got the news that my father-in-law’s cancer is active again, ushering in a whole new range of emotions. I’m angry, yes, but a bit more prepared, I suppose. Still, preparation does nothing to shield you from despair. It doesn’t stop your mind from drifting to dark places. It doesn’t make his overnight transformation from powerful patriarch to pitiful patient any less shocking. The larger-than-life man I met just six years ago looks like a different person to me now.

I see the M-I-L differently too. A few weeks ago, she appeared at our door in her bathrobe; her usually flawless face streaked with tears. I instinctively wrap my arms around her and guide her into the living room. We sit down on the sofa and she slumps into my embrace. My heart aches to see her like this. I much prefer her as the over-the-top character I write about, not the frail, frightened creature in my arms. Crazy I can cope with. Crying, not so much. But I kiss the top of her head, whispering that it will be okay, that we will get through this. But I don’t know if my words are true. I don’t know that it will be okay. I can only assure her that she will get through this.

And how is my husband coping with all of this? What can I say…with his typical laid-back optimism. He seems certain that his dad will get better, and if he doesn’t…well, we’ll “make a plan,” as my husband likes to say. In the mean time, he seems focused on keeping his dad’s spirits up, on picking up the pieces of his mum, and of course, pulling me out of the occasional meltdown. Yes, Roger is a pillar of strength. Or a tower of denial. The jury is still out at the moment.

But we’re okay. We’re scared, sure, so the mood is a bit subdued around here (which perhaps you can tell from my less-than-perky posts of late), but I think we’re doing okay. And Bryan has a surprisingly good attitude. He refuses to let this get the best of him. Sure, he's grumpier than ever, but he still makes inappropriate jokes. He still shouts at the television. He still goes to work most days. Hell, last week he went to Zambia. He's certainly not ready to give up just yet. So he will get through this...he simply has to.