tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107934158002043992024-03-04T23:18:30.819-05:00Just some stuff...Anything and everything I find fascinating, somewhat interesting, <br>or just a teeny bit noteworthy. Plus some stuff I'd like to share.The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.comBlogger611125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-7660253660938641752021-03-19T13:23:00.002-04:002021-03-29T11:43:47.663-04:00Becoming ruthless with makeupAs I approach the half-century mark (I’m now 48, wtf) I find that I’ve become absolutely ruthless with my makeup and skincare. Late in the pandemic year I treated myself to a three-monther on Boxycharm, then re-upped, and I’m not sorry in the least -- although several of the products were total misses. Least favorite thing about Boxy? They won’t let you update reviews. So if you tried a serum and liked it the first 3 days, and then you get hives, you can’t update to say so. This often makes their reviewing system unrealistic.<br /><br />So what did I get rid of recently?<br /><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;">· Three unopened toners (for oily, dry, and all skins): one from Boxy, one from Whole Foods, and one from an Ulta thing, I think <br />· An unopened <strike>snake </strike>lip oil from this month’s Boxy <br />· A cheap-but-useful-for-a-while palette that had worn out its welcome in my makeup bag. I tried to pop off the top for a Barbie vanity but the whole thing broke. Eh, it’s just as well. <br />· A bunch of e.l.f. stuff that was still unopened, but I just didn’t want it anymore. <br />· Other stuff, here and there. My “using now” makeup box has been pared down beautifully (of course, I still have boxes of unused items in my Beauty Corner that need love too, heh heh). </blockquote><br />Friends and relatives claim whatever they think will work for them, and for that I am grateful. I really dislike throwing useful stuff away. The system works for makeup, skin and hair care, clothing, house items, etc. You never know what I have in my closet that's waiting to escape! <br /><br />And what is going well? Skin care! <br /><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;">· I snagged a bunch of Grown Alchemist night and day creams on Boxy sales for next to nothing and I’m applying them diligently. They work! Color me surprised.<br />· Face masks. I have a lot of them, and I am using them. You can’t take them with you, people! Use your things! Last night were squishy plum eye masks and a gold foil CBD lip mask. <br />· I suppose I should open the décolletage cream I bought. Guess I’ll open that tonight. <br />· Drinking water and lots of decaf iced tea, because I just love my decaf Arizona green iced tea with honey and ginseng! </blockquote><br />I have always loved the<a href="https://theclevercat.blogspot.com/2010/05/zen-of-waxing.html" target="_blank"> ritual of self-care</a> and my new practice of quickly saying bye-bye to stuff that doesn’t work for me feels like a balm. And I’m gonna keep laying it on. Thick!<div><br /></div><div>XOXO, CC</div>The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-79512797526423942882018-10-12T11:43:00.001-04:002018-10-12T11:43:42.282-04:00No dance class tonight, thanks<br />
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But it’s more than just “I want to be alone for a while.” It’s
more than “I want a little time to myself.” I think I get enough of that… I
love to be around D and I feel good when he is there and I can look at him. He
grounds me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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BUT! There are times I cannot physically be around people,
times when I have Had Enough. (By “people” I mean strangers, crowds.) Sometimes
going to work is hard enough, and talking to coworkers with whom I have spent 14
years and know their styles pretty damn well. Putting the chipper tone in my
voice when I just want to do my work by myself. I was lucky in that my boss was
out of the office for two days this week so I had a little more work freedom. </div>
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Sometimes
it takes way more to get back the energy I’ve put out than is “fair”. Should be
apples to apples, right? Except those days, those weeks, today… it’s more like
apples to apples, berries, cherries, and I dunno, donuts? Those days I give
more than I have and I am depleted and then I can’t do more until I have managed
to suck up who knows how many times more energy than it looks like I have spent.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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This week I went to the Topsfield Fair, with thousands of
people... no one particularly creepy, but so many of them! I attended a product
line launch which was pleasant enough but still a large room full of strangers.
I saw wonderful friends and spent time with my parents, both times of which I
enjoyed immensely. But I need to turn off for at bit. No constant jokes, no
more being “on” all the time. No need to make up (literally, makeup!) my face
with a persona. Can I just shut off? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe it’s worse right now because I can’t get the blameworthy
yet somehow absolved rapists and molesters and perverts out of my head
(Kavanaugh, Trump, religious leaders, etc.). This week I found myself reading
two NYT articles about Flushing. Each one was worse than the next: birth tourism,
which itself is confusing enough (suicidal nanny, babies stabbed) and the one
about Jane Doe Ponytail (sex work, possible suicide). And maybe I’m somehow becoming
sentimental, but to think that the place where I grew up is now so shitty is
really troubling.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And then the touching! I think I am identifying with the rest
of the women who have also been patted, groped, pressed into, leered at,
commented upon, sniffed, whatever, whose assailants have never been brought to
justice. And why should I put myself into the position of being held closely at
dance class when I am not feeling strong enough to? It’s enough of having a man
who is not mine, in my face, having to smell his body as he leans in (however
properly), and his arms around me, leading the dance. Another night, yes … tonight,
hell no. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-60424860766700165872018-09-17T15:38:00.001-04:002018-09-18T09:40:20.608-04:00California Tea House!I tried more flowering tea, everyone!!!<br />
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Now I know it seems to have been forever since I last posted, but life has been busy. Readers, I'm sorry if you've missed me, but... I'm ba-ack!<br />
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I updated my <a href="https://delishably.com/beverages/Blooming-Flower-Tea-and-You-How-to-Enjoy-Flowering-Tea">flowering tea hub</a> last week with a bit on CTH but wanted to do a full review of three tea balls* from <a href="https://www.californiateahouse.com/">California Tea House</a>: Violet Moon, Titanic Blossom, and Peri Flower. I was wary about their teas being the "the best tea you have ever tasted", but I shouldn't have been. Their products are gorgeous!<br />
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But first, a little <a href="https://www.californiateahouse.com/content/tea-collection" target="_blank">about the company</a>. They create their blends with only locally California-grown organic herbal teas, and the tea balls are hand-strung. If that's not enough to entice you to try their teas, how about this? They are a family-owned store. I love that!<br />
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First up, <a href="https://www.californiateahouse.com/blooming-tea/violet-moon#/tea_blooming-1" target="_blank">Violet Moon</a>. </div>
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Look at it! Just look at it!</div>
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I needed to try this one first as it is their newest. They have created Violet Moon with Silver Needle green tea as a base, but they add a beautiful violet flower to charm us. Oh, you didn't know that violets do not need to be, well, violet? The company uses pinkish flowers in this tea.</div>
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I was hoping the tea would brew purplish *teehee. Or should I say, tea hee* but that was wishful thinking, especially with a pale pink flower! Instead, it turns a very pale peach, which was a wonderful surprise. </div>
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The inside of my mug is painted light green, so that is why the color appears a bit greenish. The flavor is subtle, and it reminded me of summer. I especially enjoyed this one because it minded its own business... and made it very enjoyable to drink. </div>
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Next, <a href="https://www.californiateahouse.com/blooming-tea/titanic-blossom#/tea_blooming-1" target="_blank">Titanic Blossom</a>. And it certainly is titanic!<br />
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The first thing that struck me about this tea was this the weight of the tea ball -- it was surprisingly heavy and dense. The ball itself was beautiful, with dark and light green leaves and pink and orange peeping through. I couldn't wait to get this one into the teapot! I knew I would need to take video of this ball dropping.<br />
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All told, it took about six minutes (the video runs at double speed).<br />
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As it bloomed, I was really excited because it was the prettiest one it ever seen so far, of all the tea balls I've tried... which has been a great many.<br />
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Tiny little unstrung pink flowers floated to the top while a big orange peony opened up to reveal a pink thistle looking flower (that's the globe amaranth) with a small white jasmine popping out at the top. The whole shebang is surrounded by good ol' silver needle.<br />
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It brewed into it a medium orange but looked pale green in the pot because I was outside and the green was reflecting off the grass.</div>
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Truth be told, as I gazed at the tea from across the room and looked at it outside on my deck, it looked as if a goldfish was swimming back and forth in a fishbowl amidst fluttery underwater growths. It was really, really eye-catching and the most romantic-looking of all of them in my opinion.</div>
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But the real test would be the flavor. As I sipped my first sip, I immediately sucked those tiny pink flowers into my mouth. Oops! They didn't taste like anything but they were chewy and I had to remove them.</div>
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As I tasted I was disappointed because it didn't seem to give up much flavor. But as it cooled it tasted almost peachy, or fruity. I figured that it must be the jasmine. There was a natural sweetness that came out as the tea cooled. This is definitely one of the best looking and most pleasant tasting blossoming teas I've ever had the good fortune to try.</div>
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Also, the spent flower *out of water* is more beautiful than other flowering teas I've seen actually *in* water.<br />
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<a href="https://www.californiateahouse.com/blooming-tea/peri-flower#/tea_blooming-1" target="_blank">Peri Flower</a> was my final tasting. </div>
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Beauteous as the multi-strung chrysanthemum blooms were (and there looked to be five!) this ball only took about three and a half minutes to drop. If I had been looking away I would have missed it completely. </div>
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The tea brewed up a lovely, peaceful light yellow. But when I finally took my taste, it just tasted like a standard white tea. As a result an unfortunately, I was a bit underwhelmed by this one... especially after the Titanic Blossom. <br />
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So, Readers! Of these three blooming teas, my absolute favorite based on looks and flavor was Titanic Blossom... and it actually tops the list of the best flowering teas I've ever had. Second place goes to Violet Moon, and Peri Flower rounds out the list. As I said, it bloomed beautifully but lost in the flavor category.</div>
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If you have tried any of these teas, please comment! I would love to know what you think.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*These products were sent to me at no cost to review.</span><br />
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The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-59087513208450598462017-10-30T13:39:00.000-04:002017-10-30T14:34:46.010-04:00Tumescent was the sausage<div class="MsoNormal">
I once made the mistake of looking into a sausage. I will
never forget that fateful day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Previously, I had enjoyed sausages in many forms… veal and
pork sliced on the bias with peppers and onions, Italian style; Polish kielbasa
with noodles; chicken with apple and onion with sweet potato; pepperoni pizza;
eggs with chorizo; little breakfast links alongside pancakes, dippable in maple
syrup; beef, pork, turkey, and even chicken tube steak nestled within soft buns.
I think I even tried a bison sausage once (it was tough, not tender). But this
was different.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I had been at a celebratory outdoor meal hosted by my
workplace, beautifully served, with a variety of choice foodstuffs available
amongst many tables set in a grassy quad. It was fresh off the grate, which had
been added to my patiently waiting plate by a cheerful grillmaster. O, tumescent
was the sausage; gleaming with heat; thick and tempting; crispy and crackling. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And then, instead of simply spearing it, lifting to my mouth,
and biting, I decided to be an adult and cut into it. You know, with a knife
and fork, since we were sitting at a table and not strolling our way through a
carnival or fair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Urk! To my stomach-churning dismay there was practically no plain
meat inside – but fennel seeds amidst pockets of half-melted fat, and
unidentifiable pink and white meat-like bits abounded. I sliced again… maybe I
had simply found a super-fatty section. But no. Cross-section after cross-section
of sausage littered my plate as I finally gave up slicing. I tried to separate
some of the pinkish morsels from the whiter stuff and tasted it, but in my mind’s
eye I could see nothing but slippery, opaque fat coating my poor tongue and had
to spit it out. I couldn’t even eat the rest of the food on my plate, having
been contaminated by the sausage’s innards.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ever since then I have been incredibly wary of sausages… so
much so that I still get the willies when I recall the moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So why recall the moment at all?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Well, I had to. An old friend of D’s hosted a Hofftoberfest
last night – sausages and beer, in the style of David Hasselhoff. Ain’t no fest
like a Hofftoberfest, ‘cuz a Hofftoberfest has the Hoff. *grin* I had been disappointed that D
didn’t wear a half-unzipped leather jacket to display his wide and manly chest
(mmmmmm)… but the host did wear lederhosen and the lady of the house had styled
her hair in braids, so that was a fun surprise. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I had a moment of self-discovery when D, looking adorable as
he does, leaned in to kiss me after downing a sausage off a pointy fork and
swilling some beer. I felt myself begin to sweat, steeled myself for the taste
of sausage, and then blurted out the question of the night. “Wait! Are you
going to taste like sausage???” He considered, forehead wrinkling. “Uhhh,
probably more like beer.” “Ok then.” And he kissed me and it truly was more
beer-y than sausage-y and a lovely kiss as his kisses always are but I could still
smell the sausage on the plate. And it made me sad. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Wow, you really don’t like sausage, do you?” All I could do
was shake my head pitifully and reach for a macaron (no, not the right country,
but where else can I enjoy those, if not at a party?) Over the course of the
evening I had three: one pink with fig, one yellow with vanilla, and a whitish
one with sticky smooth coconut. My beer-drinking was limited to the ingestion of
a fancy-schmancy doondut coated in a sweet vanilla beer glaze. It was a yummy
little pillow of heaven! (And not overly large.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I have not renounced all sausage, oh, no! I have
discovered a smoked turkey sausage with no “funny” bits in, low in fat, and
high in flavor. It’s Eckrich Turkey Smoked Sausage and it’s wonderful. Basically,
this sausage and I now have an understanding, and I would have been able to bring
them had they been in stock at my local market! Stupid market!!! I also eat
vegetarian sausage, and pepperoni crisped up in a pan. I have actually begun to
prefer turkey pepperoni to regular because of the chewiness factor.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anyway, if anyone has a sausage recommendation, send it
along! Bye now!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-2183817482361057252016-11-08T14:24:00.003-05:002016-11-08T14:25:30.915-05:002016, CC's wonderfully exciting Year of ChangesSo things turned around!<br />
<br />
The kitchen is amazing, the living room looks great, I got the weight loss surgery, and I'm getting my groove back.<br />
<br />
I'm healing like a dream, getting back into Zumba and short hikes, and I plan to get another kitty around my birthday.<br />
<br />
I can *comfortably* tuck my pants into my boots because there's tons of room in there now.<br />
<br />
Things on the horizon look positive, and I feel great.<br />
<br />
As I've said before, a clever cat always lands on her feet. :)The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-9319617550882121972016-06-30T09:28:00.000-04:002016-06-30T09:29:41.275-04:002016, CC's sad trombone year<blockquote class="tr_bq">
'Well,' said
Frances, 'things are not very good around here anymore. No clothes to wear. No
raisins for the oatmeal. I think maybe I'll run away.'</blockquote>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span>This year sucks!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So within the span of a little over three months I left my long-term,
so-called “planning for the future” boyfriend (as you know); had a major flood
in my kitchen and half my living room from the upstairs neighbor, requiring new
everything in those spaces (I hadn’t gotten a chance to write about that tidbit
yet, so… surprise!); and last night I had to say goodbye to my old man kitten, Butchiekins.
I was doing not so very badly today until freaking Facebook “reminded” me that
I gave a last kiss to the original clever cat, Twinkiecakes a year ago today. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll say it again. This year sucks!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The high spot in all of this is that I get a new kitchen...
but in the meantime I have to live at a hotel. At least I got a suite this
time, and I must admit, coming back to a king-sized, pillow-top bed with
extremely soft striped white-on-white sheets and mountains of pillows is
pleasant to say the least.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I treated myself to Heath Klondike bars last night. What
would I do for a Klondike bar? Probably retain and gain, I guess. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, I’ll be meeting the contractor for a final estimate
today and move on to ordering everything to take advantage of this weekend’s
sales. I’ll keep you posted, and in the meantime you can imagine me nibbling on a Klondike
bar.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
XOXO,<o:p></o:p></div>
CC<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-55683502897783575392016-04-29T15:28:00.001-04:002016-04-29T15:28:54.387-04:00Traction attractionSo I’ve been receiving traction at my chiropractic appointments and I love it!!! Even my unlovely baby hump seems to be diminishing! Can one become addicted to chiropractic traction? Heh.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I find it extremely relaxing… now if only the office didn’t insist upon playing country music...</div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-4444206846926163632016-04-04T15:10:00.000-04:002016-06-29T12:16:09.875-04:00Measuring time in boyfriends<div class="MsoNormal">
Does anyone else regularly measure time this way? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey, what year did Ace of Base come out with “The
Sign”?” “Hmm, let’s see, I was with Ev. M at that time until I wasn’t and *sings ‘and I was happy then, living without
him, I’ve left him, oh oh oh!’* so it must have been late 1993 or early 94.”
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or, “Do you know what year the Hometown Buffet in Danvers
closed?” Well no, but I can narrow it down – I wouldn’t have gone there by myself, but I
did go there with someone, which meant I went with Ex-H at the time because he
liked the place, which means it was definitely after 2001, because that's when we divorced. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s like, I can remember who I “was”, or my persona, by
remembering who I was dating at the time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s like measuring time in fashion, or living arrangements,
or weight. What year did I wear those sexy dark blue jeans that showed off my
booty so well? Let’s see… I wore them on dates with M of PGH, so that must have
been 2008. Or hey, that terrific sage striped t-shirt dress that fit me like a
dream? I was with Pokey at the time, which means I was living in my first
apartment (a 4<sup>th</sup> floor walk-up in Astoria) which means it was 1995. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I realized something. When we do this, we are performing a
disservice to ourselves. We must remember to think of time in terms of us, not
in terms of other people, hairstyles, clothing, homes, meds we were taking, or the jobs we held. Instead, let's consider
who we are on the inside, our actions, our reactions, and our thoughts, and be able to communicate
who we are using those descriptors and facts. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
All that other stuff is just window dressing, and it needs
to stay in the freaking window where it belongs.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-10158708931570263212016-04-04T13:14:00.001-04:002016-04-04T13:38:03.509-04:00Wall of Paper<div class="MsoNormal">
Much like the Wall of Sound, my collection of out-of-date
wallpaper books was overwhelming. So in the spirit of de-cluttering (and who am
I kidding, to vent a bit) I decided to free the sheets from the books.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
rip! RIP! <b>RRIIIIIP</b>! So satisfying! And I made good use of my
utility knife too, even having to change the blade. Working out aggression by
destroying something was surprisingly fun. I found myself just pulling the
books apart, screws and all, with tools and muscles. Huh! Who knew it would be that
great? (Not to mention the amount of space I freed up in The Clever Cat’s
Closet of Crafts!) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, halfway through my debauch it turns out I had not
been choosy in my pick of the papers. Appealing as they were, I did NOT need all the paper. So by the end
of the ripandsortfest, I was left with about eight or nine inches of
what I considered beautiful papers… and about six inches of other pretty
papers, just not exactly my style. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I posted to see if anyone could use it, and discovered that
one friend will be able to use them to create covers for personal books! I’m so
glad someone else can use them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hmm? What’s that? What will CC use it for, you ask? Well,
Barbie backgrounds, for one… one book I had gotten was of large-size pages of gorgeous
photographic murals; covering items such as wall switch plates – yes, decoupage;
general craft and art projects; and some are even suitable as art pieces on
their own. One page was so gorgeous I’m going to frame it. Teehee!<br />
<br />
In addition, I also took apart eight or so outdated upholstery sample books, for Barbie rugs and one special hanging art project that I've had in mind ever since I got the books (however many years ago). I can't wait to do that one, but it requires thought, backing strength, and some engineering so I'll need to really figure it out. I'm excited!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-82482962235218250362016-04-04T10:22:00.000-04:002016-04-04T23:47:17.965-04:00Google, you schmaltzy assholeGoogle really needs to stop taking pre-breakup pictures and videos and forming them into collages and events. I innocently opened the gallery on my phone to post a fun update on Facebook only to discover new creations featuring items from a month ago!<br />
<br />
Auto Awesome, my sweet A. More like Auto Asshole, amirite?The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-78420551997349768132016-03-29T17:40:00.000-04:002016-03-29T17:40:14.372-04:00A heat pack helpsSo I never know what to expect with this whole Failed Love Affair thing.<br /><br />Sometimes I’m ok. I apply makeup, go to work, make jokes, cook dinner, hang out with friends, the same regular shit.<br /><br />Sometimes I’m overcome with sadness (I turned on the radio yesterday I the car and the next thing I knew my cheeks were wet). <br /><br />Sometimes I’m great! Clarity! Cleaning! And clutter? Adios!<br /><br />But occasionally I am overwhelmed with a rage so cold that it burns. It burns its way from my heart to my neck and hangs out there for a while. A heat pack helps, sometimes.<br /><br />‘Scuse me. Gotta go heat one up…The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-23663960453921617932016-03-29T12:01:00.000-04:002016-03-29T12:01:05.373-04:00Mad Lib Tuesday<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11.18px; line-height: 17.888px;">
It’s <b>Mad Lib Tuesday</b>!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11.18px; line-height: 17.888px;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11.18px; line-height: 17.888px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11.18px; line-height: 17.888px;">
Well, I missed last week, so I'll try to make it a biweekly feature instead, through <a href="http://www.projectlabyrinth.com/MadLibs/MadLibGen.php" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Project Labyrinth</a>. Today's is <i>How to De-Clutter</i>, and <a href="http://www.projectlabyrinth.com/MadLibs/MadLib.php?mid=617165155660" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">here's the link</a>. Post your result in the comments!</div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-11170336652200620692016-03-27T15:25:00.000-04:002016-04-04T12:34:12.303-04:00You know what's humbling?Continuing to clean out and throw away stuff, and come across an oooold CD, containing (among other things) your marital (read: divorce) settlement agreement from 2002 and a personal mission statement from 1999, and realize they were both reasonable, and that the mission statement could have been written yesterday.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>My Personal Mission Statement, 5/21/99</b><br />
<br />
To find happiness, fulfillment, and value in living –<br />
<br />
I, [theclevercat] will –<br />
<ul>
<li>Lead a life centered on the principles of honesty, integrity, fairness, and quality.</li>
<li>Remember what's important in life is productivity, generosity, learning, and personal growth. I will also remember the importance of family and my happiness.</li>
<li>Respect the admirable characteristics in others, such as being enthusiastic, ethical, and organized; and attempt to implement similar characteristics like being proactive, sensitive, and truthful into my own life.</li>
<li>Recognize my strengths and develop my talents as an intelligent person who is resourceful, open-minded, creative, hardworking, and a good writer.</li>
<li>Humble myself my acknowledging that I can be sarcastic, impulsive, and often late and by constantly striving to transform my weaknesses into strengths.</li>
</ul>
Envision myself becoming a person who:<br />
<ul>
<li>[Ex-husband] thinks is fun, truthful and loving.</li>
<li>Mom thinks is ethical, creative, and sensitive.</li>
<li>[Friend] thinks is self-reliant, loyal, and giving.</li>
<li>[Ex-boss, a great boss!] thinks is hardworking and responsible. </li>
</ul>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
<b>My Personal Goals</b></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Sharpen the Saw:</b> To fight for what is right. To never "settle". To learn something new every day and apply that knowledge to my days. To tell others what I need and want to function as best I can. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Wife: </b> To love [ex-husband] and be affectionate with him. To keep him happy and satisfied and with a full stomach. To be someone he always wants to come home to. To be supportive and never to push or stifle him. To nurture his growth. To show him that books can be fun. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Daughter: </b> To keep Mom and Dad proud of me. To be ethical, patient, and strong. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Sister:</b> To be supportive when asked for direction. To give helpful answers to questions. To guide her through any rough mental or emotional times. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Friend: </b> To be supportive and helpful. To show my friends that beauty is what you believe it to be. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Cook: </b> To continuously try new things but to keep old recipes at the front of the cookbook. To get [ex-husband] to accept and enjoy vegetarian protein. To use the items we received as gifts. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Craftsperson: </b> To not push this aside and to keep items easily accessible. To try a new thing every month. To not go overboard buying new items. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Assistant: </b> To be organized. To not accept more work than I can complete in a reasonable amount of time.</blockquote>
<div>
<br />
Ouch. Well, at least I'm consistent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On a humorous note, the mission statement was written in my (still favorite) font. *smile*</div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-2580756767211958872016-03-24T14:40:00.003-04:002016-03-24T14:41:11.696-04:00It's good to have friendsFor they:<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li>Tell you dirty jokes when you feel low</li>
<li>Laugh with you when you aren’t</li>
<li>Remind you why you are valuable</li>
<li>Don’t “yes” you</li>
<li>Let you lean on them when you feel frail</li>
<li>Allow you to help them when it’s their turn</li>
<li>Support your choices</li>
<li>Are non-judgmental</li>
<li>Give you another perspective</li>
<li>Let you borrow their heat packs</li>
<li>Love you wholly, flaws and all</li>
</ul>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-6828020614173901882016-03-22T16:11:00.000-04:002016-03-22T16:11:17.840-04:00Autopilot vs. dimmer switch<div class="MsoNormal">
It must be freeing to only think in terms of twos: black and
white; all or none; on and off; binary opposition. Nothing in the middle, no
grays, no sometimeses, not a dimmer switch in sight. It confounds me, it really
does. Decisions must be so uncomplicated… they already made them, a long time
ago! Autopilot, anyone? Sigh.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thoughtlessness would provide such clarity, yes? Part of me envies
their decision making with the easy button: their disregard for others, vainglorious
strutting, and all their extra hours free of worry, reflection, constant inspiration
and not enough time to do it all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the other part of me reminds me how unevolved they are,
how often they reject reason, and how they live a life without philosophy. How unintelligent!
How boorish! How… empty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me? It’s all on a dimmer switch. I’m the person who when
confronted with an “All…” statement, disagrees and reminds them of the “exception
to the rule”.* Except the exception isn’t always an exception. Maybe the “exception”
IS the rule, and the “All”-ers are the exceptions. The difference between us
and them is that their speaking voice may be louder. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And hey, their speaking voice may be louder, but our cup? It’s
always more full. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
*(Whatever that is. Are there exceptions? Are there rules?)<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-23390046293733276842016-03-18T15:27:00.000-04:002016-03-18T15:32:39.353-04:00Pulling stitches<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCxhExIs4xC-LaGOhEJtsvEDnc_JZBv2bUFPJzguXRk0Q8Bu-DnmOwrlUyL9N3KAcMtf91P9I1DRmuLYhItFxIUM9LTUVaimQZYHYfO-KSxSLWOWmAOIKij6dghR-2RbSMpClppET1QCc/s1600/heart-balloon+stitch.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCxhExIs4xC-LaGOhEJtsvEDnc_JZBv2bUFPJzguXRk0Q8Bu-DnmOwrlUyL9N3KAcMtf91P9I1DRmuLYhItFxIUM9LTUVaimQZYHYfO-KSxSLWOWmAOIKij6dghR-2RbSMpClppET1QCc/s320/heart-balloon+stitch.png" width="122" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What’s that saying by Louis C.K.? <span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">"When a
person tells you that you hurt them, you don't get to decide that you
didn't."</span> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m moody today. Partly from the breakup, partly
pre-menstrual, partly feeling like I’m spinning my wheels now and I detest that…
this has not been the best of weeks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As my heart begins its process of healing, I can effortlessly
remember scads of good times – his treatment of me (although not always of others…
why didn’t I warn myself?!) had been outstanding – which is maybe why his inaction
was so hurtful and confusing. I find myself still using his sound bites (hey, they’re
funny! and generally accurate) and noticing things that would make him laugh
(although not always me). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His stuff sits in a lumpy pile out of sight for the moment
of return, a time I don’t look forward to but also somehow do. Above all, I
will keep my self-possession. I do not need to raise my voice to be heard. I’m
just hurting right now, is all. Stitches sure pull, don’t they? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And speaking of stitches, I’m going to begin another (simple)
blankie. I know spring isn’t the right season for blanket-making, but it will
help me feel cozy and I’ll enjoy making something I can use. Maybe I’ll even post a pic when
finished.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So as time knits a wound, I will crochet a blanket. And also,
get a haircut… the unequivocal action of breakups! Booyah!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-86568968073338912042016-03-15T10:05:00.000-04:002016-03-15T10:34:56.270-04:00New feature, [exclamation]! <div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvqZfea0qqjhg_mbOw3wjpH6Dt13013lvFLaYf1tQN2YGpxOZbsgvrlc0SjEe8JeVEIHi8oUQd1bUFMbnDnghflvQZsR99SAlHZXGhwKFECu4kjf2KRQSzRavFeKXosynXl3yzh9T4HgO/s1600/libs+of+mad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="float: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvqZfea0qqjhg_mbOw3wjpH6Dt13013lvFLaYf1tQN2YGpxOZbsgvrlc0SjEe8JeVEIHi8oUQd1bUFMbnDnghflvQZsR99SAlHZXGhwKFECu4kjf2KRQSzRavFeKXosynXl3yzh9T4HgO/s1600/libs+of+mad.jpg" /></a></div>
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It’s <b>Mad Lib Tuesday</b>!</div>
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I will feature a weekly mad lib beginning today, through <a href="http://www.projectlabyrinth.com/MadLibs/MadLibGen.php" target="_blank">Project Labyrinth</a>. Today's is entitled <i>The Breakup</i>, and <a href="http://www.projectlabyrinth.com/MadLibs/MadLib.php?mid=736217777794" target="_blank">here's the link</a>. Why not make your own?<o:p></o:p><br />
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Post your result in the comments so we can all have a giggle.</div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-15345669437043196902016-03-14T16:20:00.000-04:002017-07-21T10:44:19.140-04:00Strength mustered<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMbiFIUcYJLkWr2NDONOA_ZO7nJwdGcznrnAAp3RkapXB0H9fv2Gye8BwnbejYKqHaUINgin0k2zrE_1G7VIWpERGxOwyIMv8UKImqOxlmiv9yKIMgxW_sXdstjskAB57JFim-jMpagq5/s1600/STRENGTH+MUSTARDsmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMbiFIUcYJLkWr2NDONOA_ZO7nJwdGcznrnAAp3RkapXB0H9fv2Gye8BwnbejYKqHaUINgin0k2zrE_1G7VIWpERGxOwyIMv8UKImqOxlmiv9yKIMgxW_sXdstjskAB57JFim-jMpagq5/s1600/STRENGTH+MUSTARDsmall.jpg" /></a></div>
So over the past few days I've thought a lot about what attracts people to each other. I suspect this was what happened in the case of my latest "fun while it lasted" relationship.<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/06/the-toxic-attraction-between-an-empath-a-narcissist/">The Toxic Attraction Between an Empath and a Narcissist</a></i><br />
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<i>"Emotionally exhausted, lost, depleted and debilitated an empath will struggle to understand what has happened to the once loving, attentive and charismatic person they were attracted to.</i><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>However, an empath should not be looking to blame anyone else. An empath has a choice, to remain the victim, a pawn in the narcissists game or to garner all strength they can muster and find a way out<span style="background-color: white; color: #343434; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 15.75pt;">."</span></i></blockquote>
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Well, consider strength mustered. Although I think "toxic" is not exactly accurate. Let's just stick with "destructive". (Apologies for the Elephant Journal site as it seems to be quite laggy.) Also,<span style="color: #343434; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div>
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<i>"A narcissist will struggle to have any connection to their authentic self and will likely walk away from the relationship very easily once they realise they have lost their ability to control the empath. The game is no longer pleasurable if they are not having their ego constantly stroked, so they will seek out their next victim."</i></blockquote>
So I’m glad it only “cost” me a little over two years. Granted, they were important years, crucial years… but I learned my lesson and had a bit of fun while doing it.<br />
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I kept reading and came across this, too:<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/06/mirror-mirror-on-the-wall30-traits-of-a-narcissist/" target="_blank">Mirror, Mirror on the Wall: 30 Traits of a Narcissist</a></i></blockquote>
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<i>"A narcissist will basically role-play and respond in whatever manipulative manner that garners the best response. If they are up against a strong, determined and independent person they will move into the role of a sensitive, loving, caring and vulnerable character. If they interact with a codependent personality type, they will likely move into the role of aggressor."</i></blockquote>
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So I guess I am a strong, determined, and independent person after all. *smile*</div>
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Onward! To the front room! To removing excess crap! To the future!!!</div>
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The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-76642545956613598822016-03-14T14:35:00.001-04:002016-03-14T14:35:44.993-04:00Garbage en cantidadAlong the lines of decluttering, I threw away a crapload of stuff from the front room (again! That damn front room is going to be the death of me!) I must have lugged down six black trash bags and a bunch of freshly emptied plastic tubs. Not to mention the round coffee table that <a href="http://theclevercat.blogspot.com/2008/09/136-smackeroos.html" target="_blank">I never actually sold</a>.<br />
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One useful thing about a romantic relationship ending? The urge to purge!The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-19005712951855990132016-03-14T14:00:00.001-04:002016-03-14T14:00:57.992-04:00What would you do?<div class="MsoNormal">
So what would you do if the man you ardently love couldn’t
identify what he wanted in a relationship after two years of dedicated romantic entanglement, a great deal of fun, and wonderfully few arguments? What if you had already asked him and he had formerly
stated that he loved you, was in love with you, and indeed wanted to marry you?
And if he told your family that he wanted to marry you? And he met your close
friends? And if you truly, genuinely believed it?<br />
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Would you be sad and
conflicted? What if you were both in your forties and you really regarded him as The One? And if you got along with his family, and he with yours, and if
your parents liked his parents? And if he knew it, because you had disclosed that good news. Would you just walk away, or would you want to
work it out somehow?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you suggest a break, for him to figure it out? Would
you express your love for him and your desire to make him happy but describe your
inability to do so until he told you what <b>would</b>
make him happy? Would you tell him it was imperative to you to be certain you weren’t
pushing him into something he didn’t want? Would you explain that this decision
has made you ill but the only way for him to determine his needs would be for
him to first be free? Would you confess that you don’t want the ride to be
over, but there have been too many excuses – would you begin to list them? – and
would you be interrupted? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you listen openly to his repeated responses and attempt
to understand his belief that a one-hour drive is a long-distance relationship?
Why he never really moved in (part-time, of course) to
the large condo you own even though he had agreed to? That it was the drop in the country's interest rate eight years ago that caused him to decide to not buy his
own home then, and since then? Would you ponder his commute and understand, for
crying out loud, that one hour each direction would kill his spirit? Would you suggest a home together halfway from each other’s workplaces,
since an hour commute for you would be unfair too? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you remember that when he truly wanted to do something
he would run with it, as with his numerous projects and ventures? Would you
flash back to a conversation several months ago when you asked him if you were
doing anything wrong and he had said “no”? And when you asked if he was the one
doing something wrong, that he really never answered? Would you feel like
kicking yourself then, just a little?<o:p></o:p></div>
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And might you quite possibly lose your shit for thirty seconds at his willful ignorance and blatant disregard for commitment after he accuses you of wanting him to go broke by living in a home of his own? You, the type to seldom raise your voice? Would you tell him you had to get off the phone right now? <o:p></o:p></div>
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**********************************<o:p></o:p>************</div>
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Would you expect that you were still together until you
finished the conversation in person the next day, as you two had discussed earlier?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you expect he would show up? Or might you begin to suspect
that he would cop out? Would you wonder if everything was ok, and call but not
receive an answer? Would you begin to worry that something happened to him or
to his parents (because you still care) and text him with the absurd “hope”
that perhaps they were in the hospital, or worse? Or would you rethink it and
decide that maybe he was just being petty?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you go to sleep wondering? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you try once again in the morning? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you believe his ability to do absolutely nothing?
Would you be awestruck at his inaction, gob smacked by his show of disrespect
for you and your time, stunned at his small-mindedness, dumbfounded by his cruelty, disgusted at his lies, and astonished at his <s>lack of balls</s> cowardly disposition? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you lose all respect for him? <o:p></o:p></div>
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You might. I know I did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you become bitter? Or would you simply pity him, and
take the high road? I took the high road, because manners do still count these
days. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Finally, would you ask yourself if you made the right
decision?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you be right? <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was.*<o:p></o:p></div>
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*And I certainly hope he’ll stay warm at night, sleeping as
he has for many years alone, on a mattress set on the floor in his parents’ house with
his purportedly gigantic pile of invisible money.<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-38844612516608766462016-03-14T10:51:00.005-04:002016-03-14T10:52:37.417-04:00"You don't own me...I’m not one of your many toys…<br />
<br />
You don't own me<br />
Don't try to change me in any way<br />
You don't own me<br />
Don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay…"<br />
- As recorded by Lesley Gore, 1963<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JDUjeR01wnU" width="560"></iframe></div>
<br />The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-40442713133115972072016-03-08T20:39:00.000-05:002016-03-08T20:59:45.368-05:00Headed in the wrong directionSo my neck is going the wrong way. I have arthritis, fusing, and spurs in my cervical column and the beginning of a dowager's hump. *sad face* I lean to the side and I have a tilted pelvis. There’s very little space for the nerves in my neck and my skull is sitting almost completely directly on top of vertebra number 1 (whatever it is called). I saw the x-ray and it ain’t purdy. He says it’s like a 60-something year old neck. Chiro wants me to have traction! To the tune of $4,000. Ahem. I’m not leaning toward that yet. Get it? Leaning? Ha.<br />
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I am wary. I shall check with my primary and see what she says. Meanwhile, I will get some adjustments which should help in the short term – got the first session of who knows how many last night. I enjoyed the supersonic massage thingy and then received three types of adjustments – the one where you’re face down and the table drops at your neck; the one on your tummy where you take a breath and let it all out and they press down hard on your back and it makes a scary sound; and finally the one people think of when they hear the word “chiropractor” – the one where you lay on your back and they twist your neck and it sounds like a tree breaking. Then I got five minutes of ice packs. Then I went home and applied more ice packs to my neck and a cat to my lap.<br />
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This is worrisome. I'm going to try not to let it bother me but I know me. I'm gonna worry. But I'll keep you posted, readers, and if I need advice I will ask. <br /><br />My family and I have always joked that I have no neck... but I guess we were right.<br />
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On the plus side, I got a manicure today... bright green, to cheer me up! </div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-87463952729897095442016-03-07T14:07:00.002-05:002016-03-07T14:34:04.147-05:00Something's fishy<div class="MsoNormal">
At the North America Seafood Expo, in Boston! (The company “title”
given to me by JJ was Assistant Assistant. Teehee.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I went with JJ and lasted two hours before walking past a
tall woman holding a tray of crunchy dried things in tiny paper cups suitable
for pill-giving at hospitals. Well, I made the mistake of breathing while
passing, and caught a whiff of something that had never before been smelt by my
poor nose. Smelt? At the seafood show? Get it? Haha.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In fact, I do not think it was smelt (that joke is far too
easy). I had caught a glimpse on my way past and whatever it was had been
chopped up, and was colorful and festive-looking: bits of red, pinkish, orange,
black, green maybe? It looked like ground peppercorns of various colors to someone
just beginning to learn about international fish tastes. We were in one of the numerous
Asian aisles at the time. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll tell you what it was NOT (to my eye – and I have
watched a lot of the original Iron Chef! Heh.) It was not dried sardines, shrimp,
anchovy, cod/bacalao, salmon, and it was also not bonito flakes. Maybe it was a
mix of fish <b>with</b> spices or other
things? It was not garlicky though, nor did it smell distinctly of pepper,
ginger, chilies, kimchi, or soy. Or even seaweed. Whatever it was, I was
overcome. I guess it was enough time at the trade show because JJ took one look
at my face and asked if I was ok. I told him I wasn’t going to be able to smell
fish for much longer that day, and he made the (smart!) executive decision to
lead me toward the exit. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But I keep wondering about it. What a mystery! Maybe I will
ask JJ to find out what it was. I must know! <o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-55564147225400632112016-03-03T16:43:00.001-05:002016-03-04T00:33:57.033-05:00Thank you for your support<div dir="ltr">
So I finally bit the bullet and got a few new bras that actually fit and (seem to) manage my not inconsiderable side-boob. It's a Goddess bra that I bought at an online sale at JC Penney after trying on my sister's one in a different size.<br />
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I guess I should have gotten the next cup size up though (this is a "Dayum Girl in the Name of All That is Holy You Got Some Tig 'Ol Bitties" H) because after a day, even though it's significantly better and offers about 200% more support than what I was wearing, I still have a bit of overflow.<br />
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What sparked the sudden need for tit control? Well, it's not so sudden. It has been a long time coming, and at the price of $45 and upward for a bra that one cannot try on at buying time since the freaking size is unavailable in brick and mortar stores is not not only frustrating, it requires careful budgeting. <br />
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So one never knows what will fit. At T-giving last year my sister introduced me to a different way of chesticle measurement known as the "scoop and swoop". Using this method we arrived at a bizarre 40N. Twice. So I went ahead and bought what I thought would be the perfect bra online, but when it arrived it was laughably large in the cups. <br />
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So when I visited her a couple weeks ago, I tried hers on and we decided that I should try the H. I think we were wrong again, or maybe the bra simply needs my imprint upon it in order to bend to my <strike>will </strike>boobs. We shall see! Good luck to me!</div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4910793415800204399.post-17616195799824095272016-03-01T19:04:00.000-05:002016-03-01T19:04:47.607-05:00MA Primary, 2016<div class="MsoNormal">
So today is the day I cast my ballot for Hillary’s
nomination, again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It brings to mind when I was a youngster at P.S. 24 in
Flushing, Queens and it was a voting day. They would drag out the voting booths
with their drapes and mysterious handles, strangers at the sign-in tables, and occasional
bunting. I also seem to remember voting taking place in the auditorium, but
that doesn’t make much sense, does it?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Fast forward to today, through my first vote at college for Clinton
in ’92 and again at the next one, the Bush/Gore/”Chad” fiasco, Obama, and now
this extremely exciting and sometimes nauseating progression of events leading
to today, Super Tuesday. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was disappointed that Hillary didn’t get the nomination
last time… really disappointed. Here’s hoping for this time – fingers, legs,
and eyes crossed!<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
The Clever Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936531602691424976noreply@blogger.com9