Admiral Nelson

My cat is named after a horse. George Washington's white horse. The one in all the paintings.
While one name is often as good as another and being named after a horse has no bearing on my kitty, I often laugh at the choice.
Because my cat is not a cat. At least, I dont think he learned to be a cat. He is a cat that grew up with prairie dogs.

Nelson likes to talk - prairie dogs are very vocal
Nelson sits on his hind legs and surveys the land - essence of prairie dog
Nelson likes to play fight and will chase his own tail if left unattended - have you every watched p.d. cubs play?

In fact there are very few cat like things that Nelson does do.

Nelson drinks tomato juice.
He likes to roll in the dirt. And then not clean himself.
Nelson chews on shoes.
He likes to go for walks.

People get a cat because they want a cat who does cat like things.
It figures I would get a cat who doesnt even know how to do that...

Tuesdays with Morrie

Povich? a girl from my bio class asked. Ha!

Well if you haven't read the book join the club. Oh wait. Dangit!
So I have to read Tuesdays with Morrie for my Gerontology class.
I never wanted to read this book. I purposefully avoided reading this book. And now here I am, reading the book.
Why, you ask, do I feel so strongly about this book?
Well its about a man and his battle with ALS.
Its not even a battle so much as him looking at death and giving it a hug.
So he knows hes going to dies and he spends all of his time with friends and family and has a really positive out look on what is coming.

Ick.

Sun and Soil

Do you have a desire to grow things? I do. Something about the communion with the dirt. The sweat while your digging and eating things that you grew with your bare hands. And its the silliest thing because we all know what a short attention span I have. I kill things, I dont grow them.
But here we go again with a garden and my husband is humoring me.

Its probably because we have decided not to move from our terrible little apartment, for the duration of our lives in indiana and he wants me to be as comfortable as possible. Or maybe its as nostalgic for him as it is me. He had a garden when he was a kid too. We didnt always have a garden but I remember planting tomatoes and radishes with my dad a couple summers. It was always fun checking the plants together and waiting for the first fruits.

Ryan and I jest about moving to Uruguay to be farmers. They still have ranchers and farmers there that can support themselves. I told ryan I will go anywhere if it means I can have horses.
They still have cowboys in Uruguay. And its on the coast. Now if only I could learn to speak spanish.

The Bunny vs. The Fat Man

Well its Easter Sunday and most of you know what that means. Church will be filled with songs and songs joyous about the Risen Christ and that's benefits to you.

I hate Easter pageants. I cant even begin to tell you why. I love Christmas ones so its not the pageantry. And I love the theater. Because I love the acting and the costumes and the music. I begin to think that its the story which is silly. And then i think i find that its the celebration. The Easter is so happy.
Sure Hes risen and that means He did defeat death and what an enormous, glorious thing. In conceivable really. But what about the rest of it. There's the beating and the dying and the leaving us to our own devices where we immediately screw it up.

Yup, I prefer Christmas, that we just get to be thankful that he was sent. Joyful and humbled and in awe of the baby king.

Laughable

So I finally found my old blog. I had been hunting it for awhile.
The one I started when I left for Indiana the first time.

I just had to comment on this:

I'm sitting at Laura's house, ending one era, beginning another. Only a moment ago I wrote to Dr. 007 of aprehension. I've never had to make friends as an adult. I mean starting from scratch. Tara left for school, I still had Chris and I met Laura before he left for college. Anyways, I won't call it fear, because I am not afraid, (afterall, who wouldn't love me!) but it is there, with its uncertainty none the less.

Afterall who wouldnt love me. HA such optimism from the 25 year old me. I was fun and fabulous.
And after 3 years in Indiana I still dont have a single friend.
So I have to ask, Is it me? Or is it Indiana?
I mean sure I was single then, much more apt to go and do.
I was much less cynical, (thank you Ryan) and liked people in general more.
But I was also less sure of myself and apt to spend hours investing in people who really didnt interest me because I was afraid to be alone.
Is that quality? Is that what I want out of a relationship? Am I not allowed to have standards?
Obviously you cant have standards and friends both. *Sigh*

The Sameness

I just stole this from someone else's blog...

I've broken 3 things in the past 24 hours. Unbelievable.

Sad. Distressed. Downhearted. That would be a good description of myself. I just broke the space bar on my keyboard. So that makes 4 things.

I've had two hysterical meltdowns two days in a row.

Blah.

In the car I sang over and over today, "Arise, Arise, Arise, Arise my soul arise." It was a good reminder. Get out of this funk and gloom.

I ache so bad I'm afraid I will implode or lose my mind.

It resounded so deeply in my spirit. I feel the labor just to move. The desperation of "why?" And of "what good". It fills me so wholly to know that it is not just me. That these struggles, these lies and mistrusts assail us all.

So thank you Jennifer, thank you for being real and for reminding me that I am not alone.
And hell, i might even just be normal.