Bullshit Manifesto

april fools.

My hands are barely able to type this entry. Milca hasn’t been feeling good lately, what with the pets and all, but she was getting sick the past couple mornings after I’d left for work. She’s a little late, too, so we got a test yesterday.

Positive.

I’m so… everything right now.

So, Joni, our dog that got in to the tussle with Croce, has not been herself since then. She has been slow and gloomy. We thought it might have been her feeling guilty, as Milca wasn’t altogether that warm towards her after the attack. The dogs also went unfed that night, so they must have known something was up. I checked Joni out for scratches here and there, and found some small cuts on her ear, but nothing else. Then the day before yesterday I was scratching her neck and she winced when I hit a certain spot. As it turns out, Croce did not go gentle in to that good night. She got tagged, and now has an abcess that must be fixed. The appointment is tomorrow in the morning, more to follow.

If you are ever thinking of having pets, you better be willing to love and care for them like children. That’s all I’ve got to say.

Last Saturday Milca’s mom left for Paris, and Milca left to hang out with a friend which left me alone to do as I liked. I went to see a production at PCC of Tartuffe that my girl Corey is performing in. I rode my bike to the Gold Line station, rode it to Allen, then rode to PCC. I was there early enough to check some email and relax.

The show was quite funny. Rather than recap the story, I recommend that you either get your ass to one of the remaining shows or look it up. Corey opened the first scene, and easily stole it. She wasn’t as present for most of the remaining scences, but made a triumphant return at the end to stir things up some more. Well played, well cast, well done. The rest of the cast did a great job, too, though I am confused what a Chinese man was doing with a Hispanic daughter, and how he came across land in France.

When I took my seat after intermission this woman sitting next to me, who I have never seen before in my life, told me that she thought I should have been cast as Tartuffe. As it turns out, I know the guy that was cast as Tartuffe, and thought he was doing a great job, which I let her know in a humble way. She said that there was just something about me that made her think I should have been in up there. So, apparently, this perfect stranger knows what I wish I were doing. Is it that obvious? At any rate, it kinda freaked me out a bit, and made me reflect on getting back in to stage productions. When I have my fixed schedule, I’m going to sign back up for some classes at PCC. So let it be written…

I rode from PCC after the show down to Alhambra for Justin’s party. I hadn’t seen him nor many of the other homies in quite some time, so it was really nice to catch up. Justin had been in a cave writing (comics, screenplays, etc.) so he hasn’t been able to run some game in quite some time. Translation for “game”; any of the various role playing games that Justin has written which I have had the pleasure of taking part in. He mentioned that he opened his gaming books for the first time in over a year, which is a good sign. I may get to play some more Vampire really soon, which makes me giddier than you can imagine.

I left the party early, which I described in the previous post, and that’s that.

Last night I was at Justin’s birthday party, having a good time chatting and catching up with some friends that I hadn’t seen in far too long. It was around 10pm when Milca showed up. I had ridden my bike to the party, having spent the day going to and fro. “To and fro” will be covered in another post. I wasn’t expecting her, so it was something of a shock.

“We need to go, there’s an emergency.”

That switch clicked in my head where everything excet for the emergency are secondary. I was able to leave my bike in the garage, and left with Milca and her brother, who came in her brother’s two seater car.

When I had left for the “to and fro,” the cats were outside. Milca had let them out, and I was to close the door when I left. Mona came inside when I left, but Croce was still outside, and was nowhere to be seen. When the cats are outside, the dogs are kept behind the gate on the front patio so that the cats can have some freedom to romp without being attacked, so I wasn’t too afraid that he was in any trouble.

Apparently, after I had left, the dogs were set free to the back, where Croce was still hanging out. We still don’t know why 100%, but we’re thinking it was when Milca’s mom came back and had some friends over. Typically when someone comes over, we lock the dogs downstairs in the back. So, Croce had a bout with the dogs. When Milca came home, he was in the back lyind down near the back fence. She picked him up, he was just limp. He was responsive, but not moving much. She took him to the Vet, then came to pick me up.

He is in stable condition at this point, but the Vet wants to keep him there to monitor his vitals and whatnot. There’s the possibility of kidney or liver failure. We can’t afford it, however, so Milca is going to try and pick him up tonight, regardless. We’ll see.

Somebody buy this for me.

Now.

Please?

🙂

Milca has two cats, both black, except for the dirt that they collect on their romps outside. Mona, or Monkey, is a female who is very nice and cuddly. She will allow you to pet her, but doesn’t want any of that crazy petting, or any petting past the shoulder blades for the most part. When petting her you need to make sure you don’t cross any boundaries, and you’ll be fine. Mona will curl up in my lap when I am playing the GameCube. I assure Milca that this is because she likes to watch, but I don’t think Milca is buying it. At any rate, she’s a sweet little kitty, and she gets my love.

Croce (that’s pronounced crow-chee), is not such a nice kitty. He is Mona’s son from her second litter. Croce had a brother, Charlie, who died almost 2 years ago. I think that this may have made him a bit crazy, or at the very least depressed. To say that he doesn’t like me wouldn’t be just an understatement, but it would also limit the magnitude of his discontent. See, he doesn’t like you either. Or your mom. Or your brother. The only person that he gives any amount of positive attention to is Milca, with no exception. Since he and I share a living space, and that space is fairly limited, we are constantly in conflict.

If I am moving in his general direction, for whatever reason that might be, he will do his best to go to the opposite end of the room. If you are moving towards him when he is already in a corner of the room, he will do his best do run past you. This is a standard encounter:

I enter the room to check the messages on the phone. I walk past the couch to the chest where we have our phone and a lamp. Near the chest is the bed, where Croce is curled up. Upon seeing me, Croce flies between the lamp and the wall, flying on to the couch. After I have checked the messages and questioned Croce’s sanity, I walk back towards the door to leave the room. Almost as an answer to my previous question, Croce runs away from me. The only problem is that away from me is towards the door that I am heading for. He backs himself into this convenient corner he has made for himself, and proceeds to meow at me. Then he groans at me. Not growls, groans. When he sees that I’m heading towards him (the door, but we’ve already established his point of view on this), he jumps back on to the couch and runs back to the bed, where he might have easily remained the whole time without incident.

I have tried to appease him with treats, tuna, you name it. This cat won’t have any of it. Well, he’ll eat the tuna or the treats, but he’ll still hate me. Once in a while he will bat at me, which has made for some nice little scars, but he hasn’t done that as much lately. He does groan more, though.

“So, how’s married life?”

I don’t think you really understand how many times this question is asked of a recently married couple until you have been married. It almost completely replaces any other greeting that you would expect to hear.

Of course, Milca and I were living together for quite a while before we were officially married, so the home life isn’t much different. I suppose if you were to move in only after being married you might have some extra stress that wasn’t there before.

Last night Milca wasn’t feeling that great. She wanted to take a bath, so I went downstairs and drew a bath. She got a call from her grandmother in Argentina, so she was on the phone long enough that I could sneak back downstairs, smuggle any candles I could find in to the bathroom, light them, light some incense, and have the bath ready for when we came in. When she got off the phone I carried her downstairs, what with her not feeling good, and the fact that I’m really just her pack horse. She lit up when she saw the candles.

After we had some left over raviolis (home made, mind you), I was aiming to go to bed. She wanted tea, but couldn’t move. I put the kettle on, went downstairs, brushed my teeth, came back up, served the tea, then went to bed for my obligatory 6 hours of sleep.

It really is the same, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I’d got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I’m much too fast to take that test

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don’t want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time

I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They’re quite aware of what they’re going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don’t tell t hem to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Where’s your shame
You’ve left us up to our necks in it
Time may change me
But you can’t trace time

Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace I’m going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Oh, look out you rock ‘n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Pretty soon you’re gonna get a little older
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can’t trace time

I seem to find out something about my wife that blows my mind.

She went to see Nine Inch Nails play with Ministry back in the day. Who opened for them? That would be Tool, before they were big. Who knew that my Joni Mitchell loving hippie wife would have ever seen those bands in concert?

I love her more and more.