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I have a lot of animals in my life.

Stack, Black Jack and Belle are American quarter horses I have the luxury of learning to ride. Seth is an old soul in a young body...a cowboy displaced to 2003 who hopes to be a Veterinarian someday. Meanwhile he home schools and trains his horses (and a few lucky people) in intra-species relations. Today I learned to shampoo a horse! Seth correctly assumes I will not learn comfort in the saddle until I learn comfort in caring for the animals and how to read their body language. So I know that Belle will pin her ears when played with but won't really bite me while I can lean on Black Jack all day and we will both enjoy it. I'm finally getting over the fear instilled at an early age of being anywhere behind a horse by learning how to let the horse know where I am and what I'm doing. I understand Black Jack is the natural leader of this group and I'm asking for trouble if I let Stack in the barn first. In other words I've learned they are individuals with and without a saddle. Plus, I can lift a horsey leg and hold it while picking a hoof for pebbles. This is good to know. I can only hope that over time I will also become sensitive enough to know while still in the saddle if the horse is favoring one leg.

Wax and Sam are ferrets who rule the roost at another friend's house. They also have individual personalities that are obvious. Wax is skittery and shy but will relax into a puddle of joy with a back rub. Sam is always underfoot looking for some action. They were purchased by their young owners as babies and left with mom and dad while the young owners went to Europe. Said young owners are no longer boyfriend/girlfriend and Wax and Sam are now owned by mom and dad. They have been trained, loved and cared for and are the model of fun ferrets. I'm pet sitting them this weekend.

Bitsy is an old, old lady dog with cancer, arthritis, blindness and deafness. She lives in the same house as Wax and Sam. She does not however reside in the same room as them. They pick on her too much. She still loves her treats and comes when one claps loud enough. Sometimes she needs to be carried down the stairs but her daily pain medicine usually makes her comfortable. I remember when she was a puppy mutt peeking out of Jackie's coat while our now college aged students waited for the elementary school bus and reveled in Roald Dahl, Anamorphs and Choose Your Own Adventure books. Life is a day by day proposition for Bitsy. Part of my pet sitting instructions include what to do if she goes "bad" while her owners are out of town.

Panther is a middle aged cat, approaching early old age. He came to our house when my charming and then 7 year old daughter twisted her daddy around her little finger. Xie is now 16 and Panther is my cat. He sits on my feet and bites my ankles for random reasons. He tolerates sugar gliders on his back and eats moths. He killed a mouse once and became a ferocious growling beast briefly when said mouse was removed from his mouth. But mostly he is a lap cat who comes when called and purrs and kneads and bumps me with his head so hard that it hurts just to show me who owns whom.

I won't bore you with the SIX sugar gliders' names...suffice it to say I can no longer tell the mom from the 4 daughters. They do not have a lot of individuality, just a mass cuteness factor.

8 little Kribinsis are growing in a small tank. Suicidal pond snails exit daily.

Rosy and Bo live next door and go with me on long walks in the woods. They are brother and sister golden retrievers just recently full grown but still in puppy behavior mode. The invisible fence has been a failure so they try to keep me company in the garden but I'm forced by concern about car accidents to contribute to their training and send them rudely home.

Then there are the wild ones.

Red light district

Shifting in the pages of LEDs comes your wench

The garbage truck warms to the scent of the attaché case

$52,305,410, sign here, here and here



Reunion

Falling flakes of snow taking away emotions

Breathing in dreams of angels invite haste through shadows of bamboo

Why do tears drown us in happy bliss?

1:34 AM

Tonight was the "Gothique" fashion show at the Catwalk Club in Seattle. I modelled for a company called Dark Industry as an Elegant Gothic Lolita in cute black and white jumper. I even got fake bangs under my bonnet. All night I got to play the innocent little girl, charming and raw. It refreshed me, made me happy for a few hours.

In a few months I turn twenty. I mull over this daily, hating it. No longer a teenager? No longer a girl? My master role is that of the Girl. Feral, seductive, flippant, troubled. Damaged. "Mischief in a girl is like salt on meat." I don't want to be a woman. I hate the curve of my pelvis, the heaviness of my breasts. I want to be a clean thing, a foal. I want to be Peter Pan.

I consider surgery. Would scars be better than flesh? I cannot narrow my hips. My skeleton betrays me no matter what I sacrifice. "Learn to love yourself." I despise the idea of loving myself. What a waste of love.

What can I do?

What can I do?

The Fire Danger Today: Extreme

Note: any updates I have to post, I'll post on LiveJournal. It's just better geared for that sort of thing. Also. Apparently factgirl is in a similar situation up where she lives, maybe worse than ours. Keep us in your prayers, okay? Love, The SoCal Posse

There's a huge, swiftly spreading brush fire in San Diego county -- actually, two of them. Maybe three of four. The largest is east of us. It has consumed 10,000 acres so far and is heading west. Whether it'll reach us or not is unknown. The Authorities have made Mira Mesa High School an evacuation point, so they clearly believe this is a safe spot for the moment. However, Santee and Ramona were evacuation centers too, and now they're evacuating folks from there. I'm a little concerned about exceptinsects because at the beginning the news mentioned Ramona and Julian as the nearest communities to what they're calling the "Cedar Fire", but since then I haven't heard Julian mentioned at all. Figure she's safe, though probably a bit anxious.

Just in case the situation changes and Mira Mesa is threatened, we're packing and have gotten out the cat carriers. The sky is burnt orange. We can smell smoke. The Santa Anas are blowing through, dragging the fire closer. Yikes!

What do I have to say to YOU? What do YOU get out of reading some random stranger's thoughts? (Get over it and start writing something interesting.) Alright. Here's me. Sitting in front of a computer, attempting to finish an essay that's about a week overdue. Aah! I'm full of all sorts of neurotic little habits that prevent me from functioning like the me of past. (Get OVER it and write something instructive - like how life is good or something.)

Life is good because I'm alive and not dead. Despite all the neuroticisms and dissatisfactions so characteristic of humankind, hey, we're alive and not dead! Here's my advice to you: (That's good. Keep on going with the glass-is-half-full bit.) make a goal. It could be anything. Meditate daily for fifteen minutes for a few months; eat less; exercise; take some time for yourself everyday, etc. Make a goal and strive to achieve it. Why? Well, this advice is more relevant to those who have world construction issues. I.e. nothing matters, everything matter, who cares, who loves me, what?, i hate this, it's all relative and despite the fact that i know this is logically flawed i haven't come across a rebutt convincing enough to rid my psyche of this malaise, well i happen to think that nietzsche was a cool guy. Anyway, WHY should you start with making a goal? Because despite a deconstructed world, you're/we're/I'm still responsive to achievement.

I have to get back to my schoolwork. I dally in the space between a rather parasitic cynicism (everything's been done, yeah, yeah, whatever, tell me about it, like the US government?, you know what big companies want, did it for nothing? i suck, i'm a loser and i'm not willing to concede that that's subpar given my circumstance, yeah, free will in this world) and fighter spirit. I know the fighter's spirit will win over one day. My journey towards wisdom begins with attacking this essay with courage!

I wish you love, peace, and a good galdarn day.

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