Wham Bam Slam

I was hit by a car today. No injuries.

I was crossing a street with the flow of traffic, had the right of way and all that, when a car at the road I was crossing suddenly decided it needed to pull into traffic. I stopped it with my legs. Had I not been there to stop the car, it would have been schmucked—at least the front end—by all the traffic moving in the same direction that I was. I don't know what the car was thinking. Most people know not to pull too far up at a stop sign. Most people understand that cars on the main road with the right of way can be dangerous. You just don't pull into traffic without looking, do you?

Anyway, the car bumped me and I instinctively put my hands on the hood. There's nothing logical about that; it's not like my hands can stop a car. Instincts are strange that way. However, it did help me brace myself when my legs buckled. Thankfully, I merely buckled at the knees and walked on my way. Driver rolled down her window. Asked if I was okay. Said sorry. I said I was fine, all was good. I walked on.

I was wearing a military-style jacket at the time. When I slammed my hand on the car's hood (not intentionally; just groping to stay afoot and whatnot) I think that my coat's big buttons likely scratched the car. I didn't think to stop and look. But things like that happen quickly. There are basic emotions. Fear. Pain. Urgency. Maybe some fight or flight business. But mostly it's just a "Whoah. Whoah." kind of thing. So basic. So primitive. A different state of mind. Not really a state of mind at all, because it's only the brain stem thinking. Survive. Deal. That's what it says. Trauma involves dealing with emotions after the fact. Things the basic brain doesn't let us think in emergencies, because if we had too much reason we'd kill ourselves with it. First we live, then we deal. And live again. But how to deal with a situation when it has passed? How to reconcile feelings with the non-current event? Unknown.

Lunapads

I'm about to talk about bleeding, folks. Chick bleeding. And it's going to rock.

So last year, I picked up some organic Lunapads. For those of you not in the know, Lunapads are reusable menstrual pads. Are you done saying "ew" and "yech" yet? Yeah, get over it. If you can handle throwing your own dirty underwear into a washing machine, you can handle Lunapads. They were a little pricey, admittedly, but then I calculated all the money I'd save. That alone made it stupid to wear regular pads. Even if you only bleed three times a year, Lunapads are more cost effective than regular pads over their lifetime. And then, then there is the benefit of not creating waste, which really tops everything. If you look along the side of this here page, you will see a Lunapads button that will take you directly to the company's site. I don't make any money from this, you should know, but I promote Lunapads because I adore them. Next product promotion: either a Bush website or a new mousepad. Yep. For real.

This is the house that Kristin built.

humble jimble jomble fruit
make a point and make it moot
candy kittens line the way
burrs and spurs on clogging day

To The Cat

Cat of cats, Domino, was put to sleep on Friday, May 11th, 2007. He was my first pet.

My parents are having him cremated and are trying to figure out what to do with him after that. My dad, who was never a cat person but became a little attached to Doms, even suggested putting him in a wine bottle on the living room mantel. The same wine bottle, in fact, that my mostly non-drinking parents cracked open on that night after having Doms put to sleep. Domino would have been 18 years old on May 31st or June 1st. He was awesome. He was my kitty. When I moved out, he became my brother's kitty. I'll probably visit my parents once more in their house, but there doesn't seem to be much reason for that anymore without Domino. During his last week, Domino roamed the house meowing loudly with his ball (a foam thing bigger than his head) in his mouth. He was also fed steak and stole a giant broccoli stalk. Because the stalk was cooked and soft, he ate the whole thing. He deserved mashed potatoes with peas and gravy, and maybe cheese on the side, but I don't think he got those things. He wasn't spoiled nearly enough.

Long live Domino.

Love long Domino.

James says:

:(

I am very sorry to hear about Doms. He was a sweetie. I will never forget him greeting me when we showed up at your parents place that first time, or scratching his head while watching X-Men with Nick - Domino slept on a pile of laundry and purred the whole entire time.

Jeromy says:

That's very sad. I didn't meet him, but he sounded like an awesome kitty.

Long live Domino.

I wrote a poem just for you

spleen spleen spleen spleen
I have twelve and they are green
sometimes I feed 'em to my cat
she gobbles 'em up and gets real fat