Category Archives: Uncategorized

Update on the little man

It’s been hard to not make this blog solely about this little man. I’m obsessed with him and he’s just kind of middling on me. There are updates.

The main thing that I knew about former feral cats is that you have to take your time with them. I’ve been doing so, every morning, I spend an hour just quietly being in his presence while he sits in his cat tree. I got some churus and put them on a plate to draw him closer to me. I don’t reach out yet because I’m sure that would freak him out. But he is now willing to eat the churu in front of me within inches of me.

I took him to the vet on Monday and I can’t be sure if I told them that he was a feral but I do remember asking for Gabapentin. I had prepared myself for getting him into the carrier by putting on safety goggles, gloves, a hooded sweatshirt and a scarf over my mouth. Turns out I didn’t need all of that as after not feeding him for an extra three hours, he was desperate to get at his food, which was in the carrier. I snuck up on him and closed the door.

I brought him to the vet, he got taken back and I was brought to see him after five minutes. Turns out he was buck wild in the room, running around, hissing and being scared. The vet though was a champ and offered me a later appointment that day where they would sedate him so they could examine him. Turns out he’s in perfect health with good teeth, clean ears, good weight, clean coat, no flea dirt, clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose.

That brings me to the other thing that’s happened, in which on Thanksgiving, I came home to find out that he had vomited worms on the carpet. It was gross but beneficial that I was able to tell something was wrong. He has to take a powder in his food for the next few days to clear them. This is the benefit of having a cat that lived in the trash. He will eat anything that I put in front of him. He’s two doses down and hopefully he’ll start shitting worms.

I’ve also bought him a pheromone diffuser and that’s calmed him some, so that feels good.

In conclusion, I think that he has the makings of being a snuggle bunny. I think that the main thing is to have patience and give him time. I revel in the little victories like yesterday where unprompted he hopped on the couch with me. He didn’t stay long but it was still more than he had done in the last thirty days. I love him so much and even if we end up being roommates and not best buds, I’ll love him anyway. He’s my little man and nothing will change that.

The Duality of Maturity

That comic is from xkcd.com and it has been my guiding star for a long time now. It has always been a difficult thing for me to consider whether or not I’m an adult. In all truthfulness, I nearly wrote grownup instead of adult.

This has worked for me for the longest time. It makes sense. I’m not my parents nor is anyone I know. Older generations are against therapy, I’ve been in therapy since I was twenty-one and I will be probably for the rest of my life(that’s not a bad thing. I think that therapy isn’t a punishment it’s a release valve). So, I can do things that are silly and that other people consider stupid but it’s my life so who cares.

When I think about the milestones, I haven’t hit, house, wife, kids and the whole nine yards. I find myself not caring. I don’t need a house to maintain. I don’t need kids to continue my legacy. A wife, a partner, a friend might be nice but I’m happy alone.

But still when I was younger, I was told that that this was what was expected of me. This is what we do. My parents didn’t force me into it and my mom has never asked me when are you going to give me grandkids but you still can feel the pressure from other people. They say things like “when you’re married someday” or “you’ll understand when you have kids”. I just don’t care.

I’m getting off track. The concept I came up with was: immature in thoughts, mature in actions. Let me give you an example of my thoughts throughout the day:

I wonder if the convertible Kennedy died in was a transformer. How would he react to Kennedy getting shot? What if it was the same car as the one that Jack and Rose boinked in during the Titanic movie.

I need to eat better for my blood pressure. Should I look up soups?

Brian from Hatchet would be a good Animorph. I should write that fanfiction.

Gotta look up CD rates for my bonus. I should put some money away.

Gotta think of what to get for the kids that I’m doing secret Santa for, for my friend’s school.

I’d be a great sixth ranger but I’d be bad at being Tuxedo Mask.

I’ve never missed a rent or utilities payment. I clean my apartment every weekend. Even as a child, I remember seeing a child throwing a tantrum and thought to myself in much more childish terms: “that is unseemly and I shan’t be doing that”.

What I’m getting at is that interests can be childish and immature but as long as I keep up everything else it’s fine. I do the duties of an adult while indulging the child that I once was. Part of that means watching non-childish shows and what not, which is why I’m getting into Star Trek but also watch other movies. I also make sure I don’t buy everything I want to indulge that child either.

I’m not ashamed of the person I am. I like being me, I like the well of knowledge I dive into when I need a reference is deep not just for old Power Ranger episodes but for songs that have broken my heart since I was a teen. I also have emotional maturity to understand the feelings I have and what to do with them(thanks, therapy). Since my father died, I’ve become the “I don’t know how to deal with the fear of my parents dying let me talk to Frank” guy. To that end, my sister and I have made a pledge that we wouldn’t raise our voices to have a discussion.

If I wasn’t any of those things, I feel it would be a reason for introspection. Even being one all of those things I know I still need to look inward continuously to make sure that I’m on the right path(thanks again, therapy). For right now, I’m going to enjoy my hard fought for contentment and make myself a salad for dinner.

Then I’m going to watch Card Captor Sakura and pay my bills. Because…

The First Book I Loved

I don’t know why this book popped into my head. My thoughts often come at random and without any guidance. I think one of those thoughts was: Brian from the book Hatchet would make a great Animorph. That’s not what I’m going to be talking about in this article but it’s important to tell people where you came from.

Hatchet by Gary Paulsen was a book that resonated with me for some reason. I read it and wanted so badly to be living in the woods by myself with my wits keeping me from starving. As an adult, my heart breaks for that poor boy. He was only about thirteen(same age as the Animorphs) and he had so much happen to him. It’s the same thing like being Batman or Spider-Man, the life itself seems super fun. You don’t consider the implications that that life comes from unbearable loss.

For those that don’t know the book, Brian is given the titular hatchet by his mother because he’s flying out in a small Cessna plane to visit his father on an oil rig. During the flight, the pilot has a heart attack and dies leaving Brian alone. He crashes the plane in the L-shaped lake and swims to shore. The only thing he has are his clothes and his hatchet. He then has to survive in the wilderness and let me see how many trials I can think of that he had to go through: nausea from “gut cherries”, learning how to fish, creating fire, dealing with swarms of mosquitoes, bears, a tornado, nearly drowning in the lake when previously mentioned tornado drags the ship out of the lake and having to dive deep into the water to get his dropped hatchet. Let me head to wikipedia and check… oh I thought the skunk was only in Brian’s Winter but he has to deal with that, along with a bull moose, a pack of wolves and porcupine.

In the original ending, he gets rescued at the end of summer. In the new canonical ending, he has to survive through a Canadian winter because many fans pointed out to the author, that’s the true test. I had read the sequel, the River, which I didn’t like that much. I thought that the premise wasn’t that strong. It had nothing to do with the writing, Gary Paulsen is a master of the form. I’m reading through Brian’s Return and it still brought that same spark as when I read the original.

I’m trying to figure out why that spark hit. Maybe like your first kiss, your first love and all other things, nothing hits like that first one. Well, I think when it comes to kissing it comes down to your first good kiss. There are terrible kisses and you get to decide which ones truly count.

I think that if I didn’t love this book I wouldn’t have fallen in love with some of the other books that I’ve loved down the line. The Lord of the Rings, with its similar breathtaking descriptions of beautifully wild scenery. Animorphs, the idea of young people having to overcome adversity that they never should have to face.

And finally, my favorite book, Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier. Both books feature men in the wilderness though Inman has to deal with the press of humanity despite his best efforts. They also harken back to an older time and a deep respect for the native Americans while subtly noting the terrible things this country has done to them. They’re also just plain beautifully written. I wish I was as good as either of those men.

I read that book more than thirty years ago. I’m older now. I go for walks in the woods. I own a hatchet though I’ve never used it the way Brian has and probably never will. But when I’m in those woods, Brian walks with me. I don’t know if Gary Paulsen knew how important this book would be for me and others who have read that book. I hope he did.

RIP Gary, I hope on the other side you’re in a canoe floating down a river. The blue sky over your head endlessly and a smile on your face. From the deepest part of my heart, thank you.

A story based on the news

It was early morning when the townspeople of Point Pleasant, West Virginia came out onto the streets. As usual, several of them said hello to the glittering six packed, caked up mothman statue in their town square. The local manager of the Piggly Wiggly, Stan Kelsin though noticed something strange. All along the back of mothman right above his beautiful sculpted ass someone had graffitied it with what looked like a tribal tattoo.

“Who would do such a thing?” he wondered.

He walked to his store, he opened up and came back with soap and water in a bucket. He set to work wiping it off. A feeling of hometown pride swelling in his heart.

From a distance, the mothman watched as the man undid his handiwork. He would have to make the tattoo on his statue permanent like the one on his body. He had already tried putting a cowboy hat on it last week but they had gotten rid of that too. He tipped his hat to them and took flight.

Predator: Badlands Review

The Predator movies have always been goofy as fuck. I mean, who could forget this?

That’s dumb in the best way. Now, I’ve seen a lot of people online pointing out how much they hate the new predator movie for the fact that it has comedy and features *gasp* a woman as an actual character! You know what I have to say to that? Those people hate fun. Remember that? Fun? That thing we desperately need more of in this world?

I’m a casual predator fan to be fair. I haven’t read the vast amount of comics where they fight just about everyone in the universe. Especially the multiple times he went up against Archie and didn’t win.

Our plot concerns with the runt rookie predator, Dek, seeing his father kill his brother and swearing revenge. To do so, he has to prove himself and thus arrives on a planet known for its lethality, Genna. There he meets Thia, played by the wonderful Elle Fanning, a bright and cheerful android who has lost her legs. Dek straps her to his back and she spends her time bouncing bright and sunny dialogue off of the misanthropic and brunt Dek. Their interactions are all amazing, you can feel the chemistry despite the CGI. Dek is trying to kill this beast the Kalisk, which is known for its immortality.

I was riveted the entire time. The movie balances the darker parts of Dek watching his brother die with the more comedic moments throughout the rest of the movie. The action sequences are imaginative and fun. The planet feels alive and like it actually works, which is something that most alien worlds don’t. I still remember in the first J. J. Abrams’ Star Trek movie where Kirk lands on an ice planet and gets immediately attacked by two horrible monsters. But then old Spock and him are able to walk across the planet without incident.

Mike and Kevin from Rifftrax summed it up:

Mike: Man, I’m sure glad we didn’t run into any wolf things or horrible bug monsters.

Kevin: Based on how quickly I ran into both of them initially I thought this planet was crawling with them.

Mike: I know right, apparently not.

It also feels like it could be a legitimate threat to the predators.

To sum it up, go check out this movie. It’s super fun and really well made. Everyone is giving it their all and it’s just a good time. I’ll be telling you about Running Man next week.

Putting up numbers on the board

I’ve been writing for what will be twenty-seven years next February.

I worked in pharmacy for twenty years.

It’s a strange thing looking at those numbers. When I was younger, I met people who would describe the businesses or occupations they were in, in this way. It was insane to me that anyone could do anything like that for this long.

And now I’m one of those older people. I’m going to be forty next year. I’m looking back at half a life time in pharmacy and more than half a lifetime pursuing the dream of becoming a writer. The closest I got was someone asking me to give them an extra thirty pages of one of my manuscripts.

So, do I look back at those years with regret?

Not in the slightest.

It would be easy to do so. I’m not rich in a financial sense. I’m not a writer in the acknowledged sense of someone offering me money for my works except for the time I got twenty-five bucks for selling a story where Teddy Roosevelt had sex with a male yeti.

(You can do that by buying my book of horror short stories here: https://books2read.com/u/3nJPzP my plugs are nothing if not shameless)

The reason I don’t have any regrets is because in those time periods I haven’t wasted my life. I have loved two women with everything I had. Kissed a fair more than that. I have climbed mountains and seen both shores of this great land. I’ve eaten delicious meals and made some too. I’ve laughed to the point that it hurt and erased hurts of the past with my friends. I have felt loss so deep that it scars my soul.

See, defining yourself by the money you earned or the time you spent doing a certain thing, it erases everything else. It makes it sound like you’re a robot in a tube waiting to go back to work. It’s just a piece of everything. All those other things are what make me who I am. And I’m proud of them.

Now that I’ve written this out, I look back at the times people have told me who they are and I didn’t ask followup questions. I should have been more curious and tried to round out the person I was talking to. I still have a fair time on this world, hopefully. I’m going to take that lesson with me and be more curious.

Let me introduce him to you all

It’s been a big weekend. Besides everything Halloween, my book coming out and everything. I also got a cat.

His name is Monsieur Alphonse Pierre LeChat though I have called him “Snuggles”, “my little handsome man”, “Quesadilla”, “Waffles”, “Pretty boy” and a number of other things since I’ve gotten him last Thursday. I have no idea how old he is.

I knew that I wanted to get cats, in fact it was one of the biggest reasons I moved out on my own. I noticed that people were putting out food for these cats. I had thought about going to the pound and getting other cats but charity begins at home people say in a way to avoid doing charity. I couldn’t stand the idea of seeing cold cats outside so I chose to ask my landlord about them.

He’s younger than the other one named Rambler. He came to me having been neutered and thus super high. He spent the first day in his cage in the bathroom. I gave him food and checked up on him. I opened the door that first night and he had emerged from the bathroom to sit on the window sill. When I saw him, he fled into the closet. Never while I was looking. I’ve barely seen him move. He’s basically a Weeping Angel from Doctor Who.

Obviously I haven’t touched him. I get near and he backs away and that’s more distressing than most things out there. I know that I have to give him time and let him come to me.

Still, it’s going better than I thought it would. I thought that he was going to go nuts and destroy my apartment. I thought that he was going to try and get out at every opportunity. Instead, he’s just kind of hidden away and watched. He also hasn’t made any noise, which I think is part of his stray heritage. Why would he need to make noise? I hope that he does start making noises. I hope he has a cute little meow.

No matter what and from the moment I saw I loved him. I’m looking forward to meeting Rambler and having the two of them run around my house. To finish, here’s a bunch more pics of him.