Now she’s acting like nothing ever happened and bought me a shirt. Story of my life. Happy Easter or Passover, or whatever you kids are celebrating these days.
I have a lot of vids I haven’t pushed out yet, blog ideas, shit like that. Stay tuned. It’s just a thrill a minute over here.
My friend is mad at me again, nothing new there. I had told her I thought Dusty the stray had an injury or something to his eye. Today I saw him in the daylight, which is kind of rare, and noticed there was some green mucous and red in his eye. I told my friend this. Later, we held him down and gave him some antibiotic in his eye, but then she got a good look at him and flipped out at me. “You said it looked a little foggy. He’s probably blind!”
“I’m not a vet. I don’t know,” I said. She began to berate me, maybe deservingly, about staying in the house all the time and being lazy. Something about my mental problems and excuses. That it was a good thing I never had children ( a point I fully agree with). That how could I stand myself? That I cost her thousands of dollars. Just look at Katie and Callie! she said. Katie, to be fair to me, has an autoimmune disease, but is thriving at her house now. Callie I look after and has herpes. So there was extenuating circumstances for their decline. I feel like pure shit though.
Really, it doesnt matter what form my dollar store level of creativity forms. She will take the proverbial knife through anything.
Bloggers to her aren’t writers and I’m mediocre at best ( she’s right about me, but I do OK)
My Youtube videos are ‘moronic.’ I was really hurt when she told me that. I took up Youtube when I was running low on purpose and pawing my way out of a severe depression. I don’t show her my videos much anymore.
i made the mistake of showing her an Instagram video I surreptitiously filmed today. A few scenes of the 45 second vid were being shot on the ground so as not to film people. “Am I supposed to be entertained by cement?” she asked. I felt instant shame. I had sent it to someone else who I’m afraid is just going to think I’m an idiot.
Anyway, hope your endeavors are going better than mine. I’ll leave you with a photo I took while I was out and about yesterday.
Ultimate ‘Cat Lady Chic’
This is going to be one of THOSE posts. What could you possibly mean, Lisa? You’re always so damn entertaining.
One of those posts.
Oh, one of those emo posts where you bitch and moan about the world, Lisa. Yeah, I’m out; or, at least I would be if I weren’t you.
I’m noticing something of late. I must not be a particularly fun person to be around, as no one in my circle of 1.5 friends wants to actually hang out with me. Friend 1 never feels it’s worth her time to go 5 minutes out of her way to pick me up to go somewhere with her. She must not enjoy my society much at all, and I keep wondering if it wasn’t for the fact we both feed the strays by a doctor”s office if she’d extract herself completely. She threatens to leave me with no friends occasionally when she gets exasperated.
Friend .5 only contacts me when she wants something. And she’s given to telling small lies, but it makes me a little nervous, because in my past liars have caused me problems. She even goes by a different name to her inner sanctum. I’m sure it’s because of a painful past, but I’m still wary. I know she wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, and has helped me a few times.
Friend 0 and I haven’t talked in months, but even if we did talk it would be a one-sided convo. If she really needed something, I’d help her out since we’ve known each other since we were 15. She did something to me it would be hard to forgive. I think and hope she knows I’d never do what she accused me of doing. If I had to guess who did it, my guess would be one of the people she unintentionally made enemies with during the hurricane. Someday she may contact me out of necessity or loneliness.
I just felt the need to vent. Thanks for listening.
Looking back upon the 41 years I’ve been on this planet, I generally see it as devoid of much useful to humanity. I imagine Clarence from It’s a Wonderful Life searching hard to find something redemptive about my life and sighing in the end, “Dammit, Georgina, go ahead and jump. I got nothing.”
But not as of last Friday. Last Friday, maybe, I could say I actually did something for someone that really helped her.
I was at my therapist’s office in the waiting room. There was a woman with a child and I get the feeling she isn’t the little girl’s mother. Two women come out into the waiting area and tells the child’s guardian that they want to interview them separately.
“Oh, yes, that’s definitely a good idea,” says the guardian, leaving the little girl without a look back. Flashback: Me. Seven years-old. Knowing when adults are talking negatively about me. I know this little girl knee that she is talked about. It must feel terrible.
The little girl sat on the floor playing with Legos as the other woman of the two who came out, sat down. She didn’t introduce herself, I noticed. Do children not need common courtesy?
“I’m going to ask you some questions, the 50ish woman said.
“OK,” replied the little girl.
I began to feel a certain sense of watching this unfold on a different plain from reality. This can’t really be happening in front of me.
“Does anyone yell or call people names in your household?”
“Yes,” said the little girl.
“Does anyone hit or beat you in your house?”
“Has anyone ever touched you inappropriately, like your private parts?”
“Has either of your parents gone to jail or been in prison?”
“Not that I know of. ”
Then my therapist came out to get me and the spell, my stupor of pure disbelief, was broken. As I walked back to my therapist’s office, the weight of what I heard hit me. I told my therapist everything I witnessed angrily. My therapist jumped up, and asked if I’d be OK if she went and put a stop to it right now.
“Yes, please do!”
There was a bit of apprehension within me knowing that the woman doing that child’s intake would know it was me totally narcing her out. But what could I do? No child would answer those questions with an audience there. What if she was being abused in some way? What if I had been someone with PTSD listening? ‘Triggered’ has become something laughable in our society, but there are people who truly would fall apart if they were unfortunate enough to hear what I did. I had to do something. There’s been times I should have said something to someone and I have to live with that. Luckily, I trusted my therapist, and could tell her what I witnessed.
It turns out that the woman didn’t work for the therapist’s office, but my therapist is going to follow up on her. Someone above that woman is going to hear how she violated that child’s rights. I hope she doesn’t lose her job, though she deserves to.
So, yeah. Maybe I made a difference to a vulnerable child. Maybe I of all people, actually helped someone.
In other news, March 24th was my ninth blogoversary. I’m a different human being than that person who started this blog. Anyway, thanks anyone reading this.