Tag: thoughts

Cold && Tired.

I’m writing this on my phone tonight. Ever just not feel like life? That’s me tonight.

It’s cold && I’m not liking it. Normally I love the cold but this year I’m not. Our pipes froze so if we have to use the restroom we go to the local gas station – which sucks.

I’m sitting in bed right now under three blankets listening to SpongeBob. We have a space heater going but it only does so much. Thankfully we usually have like 8 cats in bed with us, so that helps with body heat.

But that’s me tonight in a nutshell. I almost said to heck with writing for today but decided I really need to write something. So here is my “something”.

Have a good night. See y’all tomorrow…

Heart Broken.

I talk to a dead cat every day.

January 2021, our cat Penelope had kittens. All of them died except one. I became fond of the little kitten but we had no intentions of keeping her. I was going to find her a new home. (We already had too many cats.)

After she was born I was hospitalized, y’all remember that. When I got home she had a boo-boo on the top of her head. Her mom, Penelope, && Penelopes sister, Benson, got into a fight over her and booped her head. We named her Dotty.

After a bit that spot turned black – not a bad black, she basically ended up with a dot on her head that was black. As she aged a lot of her white darkened. She ended up looking Siamese.

Her and I bonded. We got very close. I fell in love with her when she was a baby. Completely head over heels. She got older, bigger, darker. She slept with me, && would want me to hold her like a baby rocking her as she slept. I called her Babykins. She was my baby.

Two weeks ago she never came home. I waited three days before I really started to freak out. By Friday I needed her home. So I went out looking for her. Walking around our small town I knew she wouldn’t go far. I even asked a Facebook Community page for help.

I found her. 💔

I know people always tell me that they don’t see their animals as animals but as children. I never understood that. Until her. She was special to me. She made me happy. &&& I know she loved me just as much as I loved her. (Even if I did read someone say that animals don’t love us that they only seem like it because they depended on us for food.)

She was down the road. Wet. Dirty. Which was things she hated more than anything. I wish I had went looking for her Wednesday, but I don’t think it would have mattered.

We have a set of aggressive dogs on our street. Mind you, I wasn’t there && at first I thought she was hit by a car. But this past Saturday we found another one of our cats, mauled to death in our back yard. I’m about 100% sure that Babykins was killed by the dogs.

When I found her. A piece of me broke in half. I feel like I’m missing something. A small part of me. A part of my happiness disappeared with her. I picked her limp body up and carried her home with no feelings in my legs. Couldn’t see through the tears. My lungs felt empty. I couldn’t breathe.

I sat on my front porch, alone, crying holding her like I did when she was alive. Close to my chest, rocking her back and forth, crying.

I went to work the next day. I shouldn’t have. For 12.5 hours I sat at my desk and cried. I wasn’t in the correct mindset to be there. I got nothing accomplished. But I went because I had no choice.

Milo, the other cat we found, was our baby. We got him April 2018, and he was solid white && deaf. He was a rescue that we got as a kitten. We raised him. He raised the other cats. We weren’t here for his but I’m pretty sure that Lucci, another one of our cats saw it. He witnessed Milos death. I think this because he has bite marks on his back and side.

Milo

Milo had no chance && I fear that Lucci tried to help but couldn’t. Lucci is now traumatized. Any noise he hears he jumps. Stares at the doors. Won’t go outside. You can tell he is sad.

Lucci

I talk to Babykins every day I walk by her spot. We buried her next to the porch. We put Milo on the other side. They are both there and I see their spots every day.

I really miss them.

Worlds.

Trying to break into worlds is hard.

No, this isn’t about me trying to find a way into another galaxy or proving that there is life in space. What I’m stating, is facts, that when you try to break into worlds it’s hard.

The writing community is huge. A lot of book worms, writers, authors, agents, editors, etc. && trying to get welcomed into it is like trying to sit at the popular table in high school. Sadly, I was never invited.

I have never been good at popularity contests && I wasn’t part of the “in crowd” && thinking that the writing community makes me feel like that is a harsh reality. I honestly know it’s not a popularity contest… but I feel like that. I also feel if you don’t have the money to spend you’ll never be published.

I figured the best way for an unknown is to publish it myself. Which is totally fine – I don’t mind doing the hard work. But I really wanted a professional editor to read through it, find the errors but unless I can poop out nearly $3,000 that will never happen. &&& I know they are worth the money, I just don’t have it to spend.

Then I think ‘okay, let’s skip the professional editing.’ Knowing that it’s self published, “most” readers will look over a lot of them. I will just edit the crap out of it.

Next hurdle. To self-publish, you need extra money. Thousands. I found a company that helps self publish but as I began reading I realized that not only do they request thousands of dollars they also keep 80¢ on every dollar for themselves so I would only get 20¢ of every dollar sold. Whereas, if I do it all myself and use Amazon, I get 70% of the royalties.

But then I think about going with my other passion but breaking into the food world is just as hard – if not harder. I guess when they say “you need money to make money” they weren’t kidding. But sadly, here I am with no money.

I did upload a couple chapters of the book. I figured if it gets enough notice that either that company will want to publish it or it shows that if I was to save the money, step-by-step it, that people would be interested in purchasing the book.

Learned Something.

In the 150 years that I have been alive I have always been told “it’s hot because of the humidity”. Okay, that’s fine, I get it.

The other night I was reading something that a friend wrote on Facebook (she lives in South Carolina) that it was In the 70’s. I stopped && thought ‘I wish it was in the 70’s here’ (104° that day). She mentioned the humidity making it extremely hot.

It got me to thinking. The hottest place I have ever been is Florida so I googled the humidity there – that day it was 78%. So I googled mine – I live in Oklahoma – ours was 34%. So I googled South Carolina – it was 34%. (Mind you, today as I write this, all three humidities are in the 70% but not the day I learned this.) That day here it was 104° &&& I felt like I was on fire.

All of this made me google the places with the highest humidity. The top five: Iowa with 82%, New Hampshire with 81%, Alaska with 81%, Maine with 80% && North Dakota with 80%. Alaska and Maine surprised me briefly until I remembered – water. Water heat. It makes your humidity sky rocket. Oklahoma sits at #34 with a 76% humidity && I cannot forget about Texas, since I was born there and I’m about 5 minutes from the state line- it sits at #29 with a 76% humidity. Deleware is the lowest with a 72% humidity.

So I learned it isn’t always the humidity. Sometimes, living in Satan’s butthole, it’s just hot.

I also think I may have been looking at the wrong numbers the other day with the 30% humidity. Today it’s 72% – though it’s 66% in Oklahoma City, 72% in Tulsa and Gage comes in at 49%. Amarillo, Texas is sitting at 58% whereas Houston is at a whopping 85% but Galveston is at 79%.

So there you have it. Todays humidity levels around Oklahoma and Texas.

Have a good day.

Goodbye 2018 : Hello 2019

2018 – was horrible.

I’ve noticed a lot of people seem to agree with me on how horrible last year was. I honestly cannot think of anything good that happened – just bad. Buried my grandfather && a close cousin. I watched as the days passed showing me nothing but grey skies and sadness.

But as I sit here, January 2, 2019, I am hoping for a better year. I would say it couldn’t get any worse, but that’s not true. It could get 10x worse, but I refuse to allow that. Hopefully.

2018 I made one resolution. One I honestly thought I could fulfill. I did not – so I am keeping it for this year too: finish Frost. Completely.

But for 2019, I am adding a new one: to get healthy. To be a better me. What it will take? Only time will tell.

For now, my top goal is my book. It may never be published through a big company, and be found on every bookshelf worldwide, but at least I can say that I finished it. Wrote it. Something that I have wanted to do since I began.

So, that’s where I sit. 2018 was crap. 2019 HAS to be better. 2018 I accomplished nothing. 2019 I HAVE to accomplish something. 2018 was not my favorite year. 2019 shall be the first of great many years to come. 2018 was not my worse years (that would be 2003 && 2011.) But it is up there. 2019 – please be better.