I am officially a Lame-o.  One that is lame.  A slacker that sucks.  Yep, that’s me.

Of course, I’m not so down on myself to be applying that to every part of my life.  No, no…I’m definitely a lame-o, but only as it applies to selected areas of expectations.

I suck at commitment to little things.  Oh, I’m great at commitment to big-ticket things like:  being committed to my relationship with my spouse, sticking to the same job until way past when my psyche needs me to pack it in and find something better, making sure we have all the necessary traditional items on the table at name-your-holiday-here.  I can definitely be counted on to be there if you’re having a crisis and you need me to sleep over to make sure you don’t slit your wrists or other vital artery-holding area of the body. And, yes, I seem to have helped more than my fair share of friends move.

But then there are the things I really, really want to do that I just give the shaft or screw up in some way.  Like seriously planning on signing up for pottery classes and even telling some friends so I’ll be more likely to follow through…but it never happens.  Or, wanting to learn French and thinking that that Rosetta Stone program looks like a good idea…but when I got my 401K cashed out and I had the money to spend on the full deal…nope, didn’t happen.  Oh, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve joined a gym and end up paying for months that I don’t ever step into the place.  This last time really sucked because the gym was only three blocks away from home, one block away from work (in the same direction as home) and I just stopped going after three  or four months…always planning on going back though, because I would see it there every day…except that then the building got sold and so the gym closed and now I’m S.O.L.  Then there was this week-end…two shows I wanted to see with friends I haven’t seen in a while, and I didn’t show up for either one!  Well, it’s true I can’t really afford to go out to see bands at the moment, what with me outta a job and dependant on my spouse for the frivolous funds…but still!  I told people I would try to make it..and I meant it!  And, of course, let’s not forget about how my NaNoWriMo word count was higher than I’ve ever achieved in one short month…no, ever.  But I didn’t even get half-way to the 50K goal…and it’s totally do-able if I would have just written everyday, just a little, not even 2000 words each day.

Really, I’m doing all this bashing myself over the head because I realized something very late last night…around 2:00 am, actually.  I totally screwed up and did not post yesterday…AT ALL.  There goes my “31 posts in 31 days”…there goes my “I did this!” pride swelling my ego even more…there goes my promise to you all reading this slog.  I just kept putting it off all day…because Sundays are so nice and lazy sometimes and the couch felt good and I had my hubby home and we just were LAA-ZEE.  Oh, I’ll write later…I don’t have any words right now…I’m so sleepy-comfy…I have all day…I have ’til mid-night even…I…

Oh, frak…it’s not Sunday anymore.  I screwed up.  Then I even entertained the idea of posting anyway, at 2 am, as it would be something and even though the calendar wouldn’t recognize it as a post for Sunday I would, and I would write again for Monday like usual.  But I didn’t have any words because my brain was dragging out all the things that I suck at and making me feel like you-know-what.  It kind of slaughtered any words that might have been hanging out waiting for the right time and the rest of the words to come cluster together with them to make some sort of coherent…something.  In fact, I still don’t really have anything to say about my assigned December topic of “thanks”.  I’m thankful for…what?  Being a lame-o?

Hmm…maybe I can turn this around and say…well…

I’m thankful for lazy Sunday afternoons.  The ones that have a bit of autumn chill, but not the energy-sapping wind that can often accompany them.  The ones that have the slight pitter-patter against the window and the broadleaf evergreen buses outside that make you drowsy and want a nice hot camomile tea with honey.  The ones that make you want to stay curled up inside on the couch with a book, or a couple of indy, foreign or b&w classic films…you, your loved-one and the furry feline all in a tangled web of grandma’s home knitted/crocheted throws…what we call a “Cat Pile” in our house.

That’s what I got.  That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.  You don’t’ like it, well, too bad.  (Any others I’m missing here?)

And I am sorry for any of you that stopped by on Sunday to find a re-run from the day before…really I am.  We’ll try not to let it happen again, at least not this month.

But then…I am a Lame-o, ya know, and it might…but I hope not…

© 2008 D. Kessler

Advertisements

So. I’m sitting here in my best friend’s apartment watching stupid silly Christmas movies like Christmas Vacation et al.  We’re doing the girl thing:  cheap bottle o’ red wine, a few cigarettes, her boyfriend has gone to bed to get away from us.  It’s Grrl Time.  I’m thankful for Grrl Time, but that’s not what this post is about, really.

Do any of you have furry friends?  You know…those things with four feet that do funny and annoying things that spike your life to make it worth living?  Yes, well, I have one, I call it my husband.  No, really, seriously…I was actually talking about our cats and/or dogs this time.

Mr Hank is 10 years old this year.  For Thanksgiving, we told all our guests to bring him a cheap cat toy or can of “wet food” (ala Fancy Feast or Friskey’s Select for some such) for dinner in lieu of a side dish because it was really “Hanksgiving” and we really had all the human food dishes covered.  As you can guess, he’s kinda spoiled.  But Oh…he is the sweetest cat, all 15 pounds of him and his little Mike-Tyson-Meow (those of you who have read any of my NaNoWriMo story, the character of Lix is based on Mr Hank).

Anyway…spoiled much, this Hank?  Yes…just a tiny bit.  But that’s okay because it never really is a problem.  Mostly, he just acts out sometimes in ways that are more cute than annoying.  Case in point, this picture:

Hank In Jade Plant, Dec 4, 2008

This is Mr Hank showing off.  He thinks it’s so very cute to defy Mommy Kirsten and Auntie Dy and dig down in a 10 year old jade plant…oh, it looks like it smells so good, doesn’t it?..while we yell at him to get out, BAAD KITTY!…etc.  I tried really hard not to laugh, but I had to take a picture, which fueled him on more.  This is the same cat that likes to have his picture taken in a grey coat and hat we gleaned from the Goodwill.  He’s a total ham.

So, that’s what I got today.  I’m thankful for Mr Hank. The cat that plays dice.  That begs for a cigarette and a glass of whiskey when we have it.  I swear he was a pimp in another life.  And now we get to cater to his every whim…well, mostly.  I’ll be damned if I’m gonna give him wet food when I come calling.  He is  Kirsten’s cat after all…I’m not “mommy”.  I have my own feline fiend to worry about!

© 2008 D. Kessler