(no subject)
I have no clue how long its been since I last updated. Weeks, at least. Probably months.
I just wanted to say that, I think my cat has run off to die. I think. Maybe not. Boris has had an onslaught of aggravations lately: seizures, cuts, infections, stiches, more cuts, more stitches, more cuts, more seizures... Yesterday, he started to act weird. He was hissing and very defensive about leaving rooms, but at the same time did not want us to pet him. My Mom says that he was walking (especially) funny, as well.
Anyway, I kept him in my room for the morning. He had food (which he devoured), a litter box, and a warm bed. But when Mom got home she let him outside--thinking maybe his behavior is just from being cramped up indoors. I am inclined to agree. Boris, after all, usually is an outdoors cat. It had been a long recovery period thus far, and he deserved a bit of freedom. Anyway, no sign of him this evening. So either he is *really* enjoying his free time, or he has decided to go out and find his peace.
That's one thing I always enjoyed about cats--if done right, they do not burden you with the pain of death. I almost wrote grief, but I think death is the right word. Grief happens anyway. It is one thing to hear that someone you care about has died. It is entirely another to come home and find them passed away in the bedroom. Simply having the knowledge--without the physical shock and responsibility of cleaning up--makes the grieving process much easier to bear. As for the idea that one must/should view the body and pay last respects...well, personally, that has never been my thing. Never.
At the moment, guilt is not an issue. In the past month, we have paid over $1000 in vet bills to help take care of Boris. Really, I would hate for him to die of something petty. But at the same time, there is a limit to what we can afford. We tried. Several times. And I find peace in that.
Hmm... I was going to cut and paste an epic quote/poem here about death. But, considering that it has only been one day, I hate to overdramatize an event which has yet to (certainly) occur. Instead, let us move on....
Since I last posted, a few things have happened in life. My job as a substitute teacher has stabilized to the point where--on average--I make around $200/week. Plus trombone students, I am content (and yes, I did split the vet bill with my mother this month).
More importantly, I have been accepted as a PhD candidate at Tufts University in the field of Dramatic Arts. Free ride. Stipend. The whole sh'bang. On the same note, I was rejected from the University of Connecticut.
For now, I have not confirmed my admission yet with Tufts. For one, there are still two more schools on the "to hear from" list here in the USA. In addition, I reapplied for scholarships at the University of Edinburgh, being sure to mention this threatening offer in my application. Edinburgh is my top choice, no doubt, but with anything less than equivalant funding, I cannot justify the expense of travelling overseas. I am still waiting, but contented to know that the Worse Case Scenario for next Fall is much-improved.
Our house here in Connecticut is still on the market... still the occaionsal viewer every other week or so. For my Mom's sake, I hope it is sold soon. Of course, a sale which coincides with my inevitable relocation out of state would not be so unfortunate, either.
At D&D today, I was forcibly elected the new DM. This shall be interesting, as my style of leading sessions is far different from Keean's. I will have to adjust my usual 'story-centric' method to create one where characters are rewarded for chaotic and often unplanned behavior. If anything, it will be fun to experiment again. I am strongly debating whether a return to Ironcross...
And finally... well, there is no finally. I feel adequately purged right now. Hmm. I miss these entries a bit, I guess. I shall have to try and come back more often. G'night.
I just wanted to say that, I think my cat has run off to die. I think. Maybe not. Boris has had an onslaught of aggravations lately: seizures, cuts, infections, stiches, more cuts, more stitches, more cuts, more seizures... Yesterday, he started to act weird. He was hissing and very defensive about leaving rooms, but at the same time did not want us to pet him. My Mom says that he was walking (especially) funny, as well.
Anyway, I kept him in my room for the morning. He had food (which he devoured), a litter box, and a warm bed. But when Mom got home she let him outside--thinking maybe his behavior is just from being cramped up indoors. I am inclined to agree. Boris, after all, usually is an outdoors cat. It had been a long recovery period thus far, and he deserved a bit of freedom. Anyway, no sign of him this evening. So either he is *really* enjoying his free time, or he has decided to go out and find his peace.
That's one thing I always enjoyed about cats--if done right, they do not burden you with the pain of death. I almost wrote grief, but I think death is the right word. Grief happens anyway. It is one thing to hear that someone you care about has died. It is entirely another to come home and find them passed away in the bedroom. Simply having the knowledge--without the physical shock and responsibility of cleaning up--makes the grieving process much easier to bear. As for the idea that one must/should view the body and pay last respects...well, personally, that has never been my thing. Never.
At the moment, guilt is not an issue. In the past month, we have paid over $1000 in vet bills to help take care of Boris. Really, I would hate for him to die of something petty. But at the same time, there is a limit to what we can afford. We tried. Several times. And I find peace in that.
Hmm... I was going to cut and paste an epic quote/poem here about death. But, considering that it has only been one day, I hate to overdramatize an event which has yet to (certainly) occur. Instead, let us move on....
Since I last posted, a few things have happened in life. My job as a substitute teacher has stabilized to the point where--on average--I make around $200/week. Plus trombone students, I am content (and yes, I did split the vet bill with my mother this month).
More importantly, I have been accepted as a PhD candidate at Tufts University in the field of Dramatic Arts. Free ride. Stipend. The whole sh'bang. On the same note, I was rejected from the University of Connecticut.
For now, I have not confirmed my admission yet with Tufts. For one, there are still two more schools on the "to hear from" list here in the USA. In addition, I reapplied for scholarships at the University of Edinburgh, being sure to mention this threatening offer in my application. Edinburgh is my top choice, no doubt, but with anything less than equivalant funding, I cannot justify the expense of travelling overseas. I am still waiting, but contented to know that the Worse Case Scenario for next Fall is much-improved.
Our house here in Connecticut is still on the market... still the occaionsal viewer every other week or so. For my Mom's sake, I hope it is sold soon. Of course, a sale which coincides with my inevitable relocation out of state would not be so unfortunate, either.
At D&D today, I was forcibly elected the new DM. This shall be interesting, as my style of leading sessions is far different from Keean's. I will have to adjust my usual 'story-centric' method to create one where characters are rewarded for chaotic and often unplanned behavior. If anything, it will be fun to experiment again. I am strongly debating whether a return to Ironcross...
And finally... well, there is no finally. I feel adequately purged right now. Hmm. I miss these entries a bit, I guess. I shall have to try and come back more often. G'night.