Sunday, October 31, 2010

My So-Called Crazy Life

I have not posted in so long, it is sinful.  Absolutely, positively ridiculous.  I had a little bit of a creative hurdle to get through . . . some stress at my Monday to Friday gig has left me a bit "out of sorts" creatively.  But not too out of sorts that I don't want to invite you all on a ride in my little car I created today for an upcoming Calendar Class at NESC.  I've always loved those darn VW Beetles . . . so I created this one for the June page . . . a bit travel themed.  I want to make cars all day long! I want to go work for Volkswagon!  Seriously, check out our calendar class coming up at NESC.

And if life isn't crazy enough with four dogs and two cats, I had my eye on a feral stray cat down at the Cumberland Farms in Windsor . . . Bloomfield . . . Windsor . . . wherever it is . . . I would see him if we stopped for gas at night.  It always made me so sad.  My first meeting was one day when I was inside the Cumby's, and I heard this strange bumping against the glass.  I asked what it was, and they said it was a cat throwing itself up against the glass outside, trying to chase moths.  When I exited the store, there the little guy was.  He was just a kitten, about four months old.  But my husband's scowl told a different story.  So I walked away.  I realized it was summer.  I realized he could have a home.  I realized that he looked well fed.  Oh, but it made me sad!  

My daughters frequent the Cumby's on their way home from work after midnight, and they met up with the little dude there as well.  When they came home to tell me about him (who we all thought was a her at the time), I commiserated with them.  They didn't care about their dad's scowl . . . they were strong enough to risk his anger.  After several weeks of trying to get closer to the kitty, they were able to snare him.  He was smuggled into the house where he has been for the last couple of weeks.  It makes me wonder.  This cat lives in the wild and keeps away from humans.  He then comes into a house with humans and becomes immediately accepting of their every move.  It is truly amazing.  He seems to be very grateful for a warm place to sleep, and extremely eager to get his head scratched.

I call him Cumby.  He was called Garbage by some.  Mose by others.  He's in a temporary home for a bit, before finding a permanent home where he can get more attention.  While I would love to keep him, he needs to be in a home with a dog who won't chase him, where he doesn't have to fight for attention.  (And let's face it . . . the sooner he goes, the sooner we'll have space for the next stray that we find on the streets). 

Back to the creative slump . . . there is something I need to do.  Do you know me well?  If you do, then you know that there is a movie reference coming up.  There is a scene in Liar, Liar where Jim Carrey is in the bathroom beating himself up . . . throwing himself against walls, slamming his head between the porcelain bowl and the toilet seat, all in an effort to make it look like he was beat up.  A guy comes in and asks what he is doing, to which he responds.  "I'm kicking my own ass.  Do you mind?"

So I don't want it to look like I was beat up or anything, and I have no plans to wedge my head under the toilet seat . . . but I do need to kick myself in the butt!  I'm going to schedule a daily kicking session . . . not every single day . . . but several days during the week.  The ass-kicking will occur when I get home from my day job.  I work so hard all day, and then I come home and have no creativity.  So I'm going to schedule it . . . and it's going to make me creative . . . and I will post pictures . . . and perhaps I will do great things again.

Perhaps . . . wait for it.