Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Cats, Relationships, Stuff.

Cats are glorious, cats are a marvel. Forget about dog being mans best friend, bring in cats to fill the position! I know that opinions vary, but you can easily be won over to loving cats, and incorporating them in your life, where is it is no where near as easy to try and add, say, a dog to an already jam packed lifestyle. Who would feed it, and walk it? Who would play games with it? Suddenly all your free time after work, all that relaxation tome that was yours and yours alone, its gone. With a cat, you are spared all those finicky problems that go with dogs, all the demands of attention, all of the lack of independence. Heck, sometimes you don't even see them for days at a time; talk about wonderfully independent creatures! So this one goes out to all you cat people out there. All you people who can think of nothing better than cuddling up to a cute, fuzzy, purring ball of self contented self centered love.

Now, I myself used to be a dog person. I grew up with dogs, I had a puppy of my own, and I loved all 5 of our dogs to bits; to this day I still believe that red cloud kelpy cross is the most amazing lovable energetic breed of dog out there, and is specifically designed to be everyone's best friend. And they're loyal to one person, and one person alone; that gets them the most brownie points in my books. But my relationship with dogs as a collective started going downhill a few years ago now, when I came home one day to find my gorgeous puppy was no more; still, I see that as one of the saddest days of my life. I moved on, life went on, I moved to Perth a couple of years later, and was convinced by a friend to take one of her kittens. A more entertaining ball of fun I have never since experienced, and that kitten, with her various antics, including suspending herself off my balcony railing, kept me so highly amused that I could not help but get another one a year later, just to double the laughs.

Recently my marriage has been going through a very nasty rock filled stage that reminds me of the rapids you get on the Blackwood river in autumn or spring; beautiful to look at, a mincer to be within. And both my husband and I have been distraught and upset 90% of the last month. And each time that I have retreated to a different part of the house, or someone else's house for that matter, there are cats. My kitten crawls in with me each night these days, and when I went to someone else's place to give us a little time apart, a random cat made its way in and made itself at home. And at home here, whenever he has been upset, our original cat, now coming up for two years old, curls up on his lap, or gets into bed with him. She isn't a very hug loving cat, and is rather independent, but she has spent 90% of the last month on my husband's lap.

So, no matter how things turn out, I must say I will always be grateful to those cats who have been by us the last month, and who we have nurtured in their lives for the last nearly two years. They are selfish independent creatures most of the time, but when you need a non biased friend, who has no opinion and no favoritism, I suggest to you a cat every time. They won't tell you what they think of the situation, they wont give you advice. They will simply love you unconditionally provided you feed them. And what more could anyone ask of a good friend? So Maus, Sootica, I thank you both. The last few months, and the last one in particular, have been hard both of your owners. And you two cats, black little panthers that you are, have been the best friends anyone could have asked for.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Humanity's Inability To Live And Let Live

Now, i will be the first to admit this world is going stale. To admit that people are becoming too picky, too finicky, too up tight, blaming others rather than themselves as a part of their daily lives, and on a whole, living to complain. I do it sometimes, when i feel like it, when I'm having one of those days. Anyone does it. But you know, there are various pockets of people the world over, who take it just that step too far, all the time, every day. Heaping their problems onto other people as all they have to do in life is whine and complain. And here, i think, we have the perfect examples of these people, the bane of society who exist to make life a misery for the rest of us. Allow me to introduce you to Mrs Giselle Bertozza, an elderly lady located in NSW, in Mannering Park. Mrs Bertozza is one of those lovely people who just love to complain, and complain she does. And for the last eight years, she has been making her neighbors, the Carr family, miserable...and all over a frog. That is not even the Carr's pet. Simply a wild frog.

Now, what could a simple frog possibly be doing to cause neighbourhood warfare you ask? How could one tiny creature, no bigger than your hand, cause an eight year feud between neighbors of twenty years? Well, as dear old Mrs Bertozza will happily tell you, it is all because the frog, who took up residence in the Carr's garden pond eight years ago, killed her husband. Now, i know what you're thinking, how dare the little blighter sneak in and murder him in his sleep like that, but no, the frog, like the Carr's was not even directly involved. All the frog was doing was trying, like all the rest of us, to find its one true mate, or at least some other froggy who would respond to its mating call. How then did this creature cause the death of Mrs Bertozza's husband? Simple. Mr Bertozza had already, at this point, been diagnosed with terminal cancer, and so already had one foot in the grave. However the frog, while trying to find someone to love it, made so much noise, from the Carr's pond next door, that the Bertozza's had trouble sleeping, and Mrs Bertozza's dear husband was driven to an early grave, at the excessively young and tragic age of Seventy-two.

And so the war was begun, and the first casualty had occurred. Negotiations were now a thing of the past. Mrs Bertozza petitioned for the council to make the Carr's fill in their pond; the council and the Carr's refused. She demanded the removal of the frog; the Carr's complied. All seemed to settle down until, yes, you guessed it, yet another frog, three years later, came and took proud residence in the same pond, and dear Mrs Bertozza once again heard the frog...and is now demanding its removal as she did the previous pond dweller, lest she too die from stress and lack of sleep, as she claims her husband did! Now, while dear Mrs Bertozza may think she has a justifiable complaint, I do believe she is spending too much time assigning the blame to someone, in this case the Carr family, to whom it does not belong.

Certainly, it is possible that her husband, hearing the frog crying for a mate every night and finding himself unable to sleep with its constant love song, was aided into his grave by the entailing lack of sleep. However, despite the acknowledgment that the frog may have had something to do with his degrading health, we must all admit that by no means did the frog kill Mr Bertozza; in fact, his own body, rife with cancer, did that for him. And no one could possibly accuse the Carr family of being responsible either; after all, while it is their pond, they certainly did not place the frog there with hopes of this situation. What we have here is simply a very sad case of a woman, whom upon losing her husband of many years, was unable to rationally cope with the loss and instead assigned the blame to an element that was unable to defend itself, the frog, and the family who's pond it resided in, the Carr's. Though, my personal opinion of Mrs Bertozza is that she is one of the many women in the world who has to have something to complain about, or something to stick her nose into, and so decided to pick constructively upon the frog in revenge at the world for her husband's death.

Having dealt with the truly laughable tale of Mrs Bertozza and the frog, and the effect the combination has been having upon her poor neighbours, let us move on to a very messy and very public divorce case, that of Mrs Mrs Rosaand her husband. Now, this time, I must admit, the situation is actually at least partially the fault of the government. Now, Mrs Rosa married her husband in 2000, had a child, a daughter, with him in 2002, and they lived in Sydney until 2007, when they moved to a small dead end town in a very remote part of Queensland for her husbands mining engineering job. All good so far. Then, they decide eight months later, were bad together, lets divorce. So they did, Mrs Rosa won the main of the custody for their daughter, and she proceeded to move back to Sydney. And that, folks, was where all the trouble began.

Mr Rosa, not wanting his daughter to be out of his control, or more likely, being spiteful and seeing a way he could aid his ex other half to suffer more from the split, because lets face it, people are malicious like that, took his ex wife to court claiming that by taking their child back to Sydney she was damaging his relationship with his daughter. Fair enough, I would say, but honestly, could you not arrange for the child to spend more time in your town? Is not the whole point of a divorce to get as far away from your once partner as possible? The courts obviously did not think so as they ruled that Mrs Rosa should move back to the dead beat small town with her daughter, specifically so the relationship between father and child was not upset.

So where did this get the family? Well, Mr Rosa is all happy, for now. Mrs Rosa and daughter are living in a trailer park, the only accommodation Mrs Rosa can afford. And as Mrs Rosa is unable to find work in said small town, she is a stay at home unemployed single parent. So due to her ex husband demanding her presence in the town he chose to live in, she is now involuntarily bringing their daughter up to believe that its OK to leech off the government and your divorced partner. And who knows what else. So, for all of us, let me congratulate Mr Rosa. Well done fine sir, you have effortlessly, in one single move, forced someone to live where they have no ability to make a life for themselves, and you have shown a child how not to live. Now one has to wonder, will she remember its meant to be that way around when she too grows up and gets married?

Now, if it were not for the base human nature of nit picking, whining, and complaining, not to mention laying the blame anywhere but at our own feet, these two situations could so easily have been resolved to the betterment of all. For starters, Mrs Bertozza simply needs some councilling to encourage her to realize that the frog, and her neighbours the Carr's, were not the cause of her husbands death; his lack of ability to fight off cancer and his advanced age were. Or possibly her constant nagging over the years may have weakened his immune system, who knows! However, she can not bring herself to realize that no one is actually to blame for an act of nature, like most people, and is instead laying it somewhere, anywhere, she can.

As for the Rosa family, one has not seen such a pathetic situation in quite some time; it is quite obvious that Mr Rosa thought nothing of his daughter at all in his actions, but simply thought of the best way to make life harder for her mother. If he had been thinking of his daughter he would have realized that uprooting a child twice, as well as breaking apart its family, is the worst thing you can do for him or her. He would also have realized that forcing its soul carer into unemployment would provide a bad example for that child, and added yet more stress to its home situation, and all due to his own inability to accept seeing his child once a month for a couple of weeks instead of every day. Which almost defeats the point of a divorce in the first place, wouldn't you think, having to see your ex partner every time you go to see your kid?

There are many many more examples I could give for human stupidity, whinging and neglect of blame, but right now, I can feel brain cells dying from the lack of exposure to normal, healthy unembittered people. And so I bid you adieu, and take my bow, so I can go dance in the rain, and lay the blame for any cold I succeed in catching at my own feet with pride.

Because I Can.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

The Weekend From Hell, And Why I Have No Trust Reserves Remaining.

Weekends; fun things in general are they not? I used to think so too. I also used to think friends were awesome people who you could trust endlessly and who you didn't have to worry about when you were around them, that you know you're safe with friends, and your friends know they're safe when around you. Well people, I think I learned a new lesson about friends and weekends recently. And I know that I really am not impressed, and I do not like it at all, which is true of most lessons one learns in life I suppose, but this particular lesson was dangerous, and potentially deadly, and taught to me, of all things, by a woman I once called a friend.

So, lets look at my weekend as a whole before I analyze it for myself and for you. You know who you are, by the way dear girl, you know who you are. I cooked dinner Friday night for myself, my husband, a friend from when I was in school, and a mutual friend of my husband and I, our house mate, and I had a beer while doing so. We all ate at about 6:30pm, and then my school friend, female, and I sat in the kitchen chatting, and each had 2 small glasses of port. A couple more mutual friends arrived, and I introed them to my friend, then 3 of us had a shot of jagermeister. I then poured a glass of champaign each for my friend and I, looked at the clock, quarter to 9, then...lost all memory. Next thing I remember is being awoken at half midnight by my understandably upset husband throwing me my phone, with a text to another man on it telling the man I loved him and was drunk, and asking me to explain it or get out.

Now, for the record, I am faithful to my marriage. I do not cheat on my husband, and if ever I did I would have more sense than to leave a message to my lover on my phone at all. Added to which, I had apparently passed out, as had two others, by 10pm in a puddle of my own vomit, and no one could wake us at all. And the text had been sent within the time period in which I had been semi conscious in the bathroom, throwing up anything my stomach had to offer, oblivious to the world, and most certainly not able to send a text, let alone tell you what a phone was. Not pretty, by far, and nothing I am in the least proud of, but definite proof, to me at least, that there was no earthly way I could have sent the message. And of course, we are overlooking here the fact that when my husband found my phone, with its message, it was directly beside my so called friend in the kitchen, the opposite end of the house to where I had last seen it, before my memory loss. And so the plot thickens.

We shall now fast forward about eight hours from half past midnight, and I have finally succeeded in convincing my husband that a) I did not send the text message, and b) I was not about to leave him, unless of course, I was asked to. I was also dedicatedly telling him that there was no way the events of the night before were normal at all, and that never in my life had I ever suffered memory loss form any amount of alcohol, let alone the small amount I recalled drinking the night before. Shortly thereafter, my husband got the most delightful job of taking the former 'friend' to the train station, and, lo behold, on the drive there she admitted she had been trying to break us apart, who knows why, and had very little to say about it at all. Needless to say, upon the return of my man, I got a lovely bunch of flowers as an apology from my husband for his lack of belief in me.

Meanwhile I had been comparing notes with our house mate and the other friend who had been effected, let us call them mike and john, and both men also said they had had memory loss of the night before, but also knew they had drunk very little before they passed out; less, in fact, than I myself had consumed. We all agreed that there had been nothing normal about the night before, and that we were all still too sick and too weak, let alone too uncoordinated, for the normal effects of so little alcohol in our systems, and also that the only common element had been Jagermeister. My husband, let us call him Rob, when he returned home, was unwilling to believe that we were serious about there being anything wrong with the Jagermeister, so, because I felt I had to prove to him, and myself, that I was not lying, I took a shot of it. Within fifteen minutes I was having trouble breathing, my legs and face were numb, I was dizzy, my vision was blurry, I was nauseous, and feeling very disconnected from the world. And it took me a further three hours for the effects of that single shot to wear off. As for the effects of that Friday night, it took a total of three whole days for my body to recover from whatever was in the Jagermeister.

So, you ask, what lesson was it I learned? I learned that if you have someone over for drinks at your house, make certain you don't just know them well, or even very well; make sure you know them enough that you would trust them with your life. I learned that despite there being no motive, some times people are just out to kill you. I learned that even in your own home, you cannot leave a drink alone. I also learned, and this is the most valuable lesson of all, that some people don't know where the line is that they should not cross. And that when they cross it, they have unwittingly stepped off the level ground, and into the deep end, the end in which deep fury lurks, then end in which a nice little woman who is there for her friends turns into a furious monster when crossed. And dear girl, if you are reading this, then please, do not underestimate me. I will follow you to the full extent of my ability to find a way of making you realize the wrong you did, and I will do it politely, lawfully, and with the dedication of a hound. They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; I was not simply scorned, and hell has not yet seen my like.

As to the effect this had on my marriage, well, its recovering; she failed in her attempt to destroy my marriage, though she came close. Rob and I are talking things through still, but we will remain together, we will survive as a couple, and we will work in out. I do believe we still have a couple of issues, such as the fact that he was so willing to believe her word over mine in the beginning, but which couple doesn't have issues?

Because I Can