Ready to Move On

Jim didn't get up this morning to give me a ride to the bus stop, so I had to walk. He doesn't pay rent. He borrows money from me. He only works sporadically out of David's garage. He struts around like he owns the place. It's time to put him in his place. I go to work while he stays at home doing very little. It's time to take control; time to have fun being a bitch; time to take ownership of my house back.

I don't want to live all alone. It's nice to have someone there in case you are in trouble. However, I am going to be more bossy to both of them, and stop treating Jim like he's special.

Blood in the Dumpster

And it was my own. I slipped while climbing in; hit real hard on my pubic bone. It hurt so so bad. After a while the pain subsided and the area felt all warm and glow-y on the inside. Then that subsided as well and it began to feel warm and wet. 'Did the blow make me pee my pants?' I wondered. 'It sure feels like there's something dripping down my leg.'

So I took a quick peek inside -- so much blood! I got a lot of good stuff though, so I guess I paid for it all in a way.

It still hurts about the birds

It's been seven months since I starved the finches to death. It still hurts. I still miss them. I think of the days leading up to their deaths, and that very last night, and finding them the next day. Jim was awful.

Most interesting conversation yet: "If you had let Bandit die and had kicked us out, I would have been very impressed. I would have thought, 'There's hope for Cathy yet.'"

Which means a couple things:

1) He knows he's taking advantage of me. Repeat that, Cathy. He knows he's taking advantage of me.

2) He is not impressed with the way I'm doing things now.

He knows I'm martyring myself for him and Don, but he's okay with it. He's not gonna rescue me. He's not gonna get a job himself.

What the hell does he like about me then?

I would like to discuss finances with my father. What is the best route from here?

 The lesson you were supposed to have learned from Don is that you have to be strong; that being weak gets you walked on. You are foolish to think that Joe is different. Being weak encourages behavior in others that they would not have otherwise done.

Bandit got surgery

Internal obstruction: corncob. He stopped eating and drinking, was throwing up and wasting away. Luckily we caught it in time. He had surgery Tuesday; I'm taking him home today.

Love Poem!

My first love poem from Jim!

Sweet Catheryne
my Catheryne
at night dear heart
for you I pine
in all my dreams
your fair face beams
you're the flower of my heart
sweet Catheryne

(to the tune of 'Sweet Adeline') LOL
how fun is that? Jim

"Would you just shut up?"

Said my sister Mary to be last night. "I beg your pardon!?" I said, so she said it again. I got up from the table and left the room, but not before I heard her say "touchy" and "temper tantrum."

We had all been at Dad's to visit Ramona. It was very disheartening to see her walk in, as I'm sure she's already spent plenty of alone time with Mona. I get none. I bet they've even been to A La Carte, which I had hoped would be Mona's and my special restaurant.

There, I'm done with the Boyd Family. I bought Dad's bullshit for so many years. I believed him when he said family was important. What a load of crock.

I've spent my whole life wishing I could be special to somebody in my family, but I'm not. Not to Mom, not to Dad. I am gonna accept that and move on with my life. It's beautiful outside right now. I don't have family but I do have many other sources of pleasure.

Or Maybe I'll Stay

Somehow Joe always knows when I've decided to end the relationship, and he sticks closer than a barnacle. AND is really nice. AND gives me lot of attention. AND apologizes for being an ass.

Relationships are hard. This is a pretty good one. Maybe I'll keep it.

How to End a Relationship?

I am so ready for this relationship to be over. It's been a good three years. Or is it four years now? But come on, the guy's turned into a freeloader. Plus he occasionally is mean or says snide things. I don't like the stories he tells about the things he's done. They reveal a character that I can't respect at all -- too much alcohol, too many drugs, too much sex. And too much anger.

And the future doesn't hold much promise. He's got no savings, got no job, and has health problems. Am I supposed to martyr myself for love? He spoke with derision of his brother who married a sick girl, which made me feel very foolish as I'm doing the same thing.

He's got lots of good qualities, which is why I've stayed so long, but I'm done with it all.

Burying Birds

I buried the birds in an out-of-the-way corner of the garden, under a bush, where I thought they would be safe. Turns out Jim had planted grass there so he was pretty mad. He wants me to get over their deaths and not ruin his yard work.

I killed my finches

I was so stupid! I killed my darling finches. We had built a big flight cage for them that nestled up against their store-bought cage. A couple days ago, I shooed them into the regular cage so I could service the flight cage. Every day since I've checked the food and water in the flight cage but never once noticed that I hadn't re-opened the door between the cages. Every day I went in there, and they thought that this time I'd take care of them, but I never did. I failed them. They starved and/or died of dehydration within sight and smell of both. I feel so terrible. I loved those finches. I hate owners who abuse or don't care for their pets, and now I have become one.

Barnacle

It's official. I think Jim is a moocher. Thirteen months have passed since he folded up the shop, and he hasn't tried to get a real job. He does part-time here and there; that's it. I'm just not interested anymore. He takes up two spots in front of the house; he doesn't pay rent; his stuff is stored on the back porch, in a big tent in the backyard and in two bedrooms.

It's good, though. I quit making dinner when he quit work, and I'm very happy about that. I've also quit buying group food, which has given me a lot more cash on hand. I buy my own food, and I dumpster dive.

It's fun to get free stuff, and it adds a challenge to my day, to see if I can eat free only. Today I had dumpster juice with dumpster protein powder, dumpster yogurt, dumpster carrot chips with dumpster hummus, a dumpster gluten-free muffin, a dumpster egg, a dumpster bell pepper, and even a little dumpster chicken. Eating meat from the dumpster is pushing it a bit, I admit. It was frozen solid when I got it, though, and stayed that way until I cooked it. So far I'm okay.

What is gone is gone

What used to be important to me? It's gone now.

What is plucked will grow again,
What is slain lives on,
What is stolen will remain—
What is gone is gone.

What is sea-born dies on land,
Soft is trod upon.
What is given burns the hand—
What is gone is gone.

Here is there, and high is low;
All may be undone.
What is true no two men know—
What is gone is gone.

Who has choices need not choose.
We must, who have none.
We can love but what we lose—
What is gone is gone.

Michaela Got Married Today!

March 8, 2011. She and Aaron went to the courthouse. Nobody was with them but the Reverend.