These are the things I'm focusing on in 2005.

I know that there are positives to 2004, but really I'm just ready to kick it up the arse and send it on its way.

One Very Good Thing is that today we celebrate (Miss) Billie's birthday. We don't know when she was born, since she was picked up as a stray and has no recorded history. However, it was 31st December, 2001 when she came home to live with us, so that's when we celebrate her birthday. She got a new package of foam soccer balls (the one "interactive" toy she actually loves to play with) and later on we'll pass around the catnip.

And I've continued this new "ritual" that I started last year by trying to get a good clean-up of the apartment and then taking the vacuum cleaner bag and wipes and cloths out to the trash. This way, I'm not carrying 2004's "dirt" into 2005. I even took Luna Bella (my car) in for a wash and vacuum, so she'll be unburdened by "old dirt". I still need to do some dusting and then, later this evening, I'll do the sage smudge and see if we can't clear out the negative heebie-jeebies and all.

From me and Billie and Simon (and, of course, Georges the Betta Fish), we wish you a VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR!

* That being in love with someone who doesn't want to know hurts like a sonofabitch. (OK, I actually learned this YEARS ago...but evidently, the universe has seen fit to remind me how awful this is by letting me get THIS CLOSE to love, then yanking it away from me. Again.)

* That I really want to get out and see more live local music.

* That I need to find more friends who will go with me to see live local music.

* That, just when I think I can't be more in love with my furkids (Simon and Billie), I fall even deeper in love with them.

* That I really can do math!

* That I don't miss television at all.

* Nor do I miss the NHL. As a (really) long-time fan of the NHL, Msrs. Bettman and Goodenow should be very afraid that people like me JUST DON'T CARE that there is a lockout.

* That Subaru Bajas KICK ASS!

* That car payments suck.

* That I want to move to Vancouver, Canada, NOT because I'm pissed off at another four years of Dubya. I want to live there because I really think I'm a better fit there than anyplace else I've lived/been.

* That there is no shortcut to breaking in hockey skates.

* That there is no shortcut to healing a broken heart.

* That I can never have too much champagne ('scuse me, sparkling wine) in the house.

* That I'm scared of ending up alone. Or I should say I'm scared of being LONLEY. Really scared.

* How much my relationship with my mother screwed with my psyche and self-esteem. And how much denial I was in about that.

* That there is no shortcut to un-learning the habits of a loner (I'm at least third-generation loner...so I come by this honestly).

* Who my Real Friends are: And who was just "phoning it in".

* That Simon can get quite obnoxious when his meals are served late. But obnoxious in that cute "only his mum could love it" sort of way.

* That Billie can be a lap kitty. Just as long as you don't try to pet her. Or talk to her. Or look at her.

* That Australian wines are really quite tasty (and don't break the bank).

* That I can survive. But now it's time to LIVE.

(no pun intended...)

A couple of weeks ago, I was at my cubicle at work and took off my glasses. I noticed a really pronounced difference in my vision between my left and right eye. I've had roughly the same prescription since I got glasses over 15 years ago and the same strength for each eye (-2.25). But that morning, I noticed the vision in my right eye was considerably more blurry than in my left eye.

So, I was off on an odessy to the optometrist. I would have visited the one I usually go to in downtown San Francisco, except that, well it's in downtown San Francisco. Ever try getting around downtown San Francisco by car? And park? At Christmastime? Yeah, so I looked for one here on my Island of Misfits. I finally landed at the local Pearle Vision centre, simply because the receptionst was nice and seemed to have a handle on things.

I went in for the exam (and to get contact lenses since I'm so tired of dealing with glasses) and discovered that my right eye remains at -2.25...but the vision in my left eye IMPROVED (it's -1.75 now)! The doctor had no explanation for that (usually a person's vision gets worse, not better). He also was much more thorough in getting the right contact lenses for my eyes and making sure they fit comfortably than the folks in San Francisco (and the other folks I had visited on the Island a few years previous).

Now, considering what a bloody disaster my artistic life has become--I've become so blocked that I've actually felt like I've gone blind--it's either cruel irony that the vision in my "photographing" eye has improved, or it's a positive sign of great works of art to come.

Obviously, I'm really hoping that it's the latter.

edited to add: I'm experimenting with adding images to me blog via email and Flickr. Looks like it works!

I think the "flesh wound" on my right ankle is starting to heal nicely after Sunday's trip to the rink. Tomorrow night, I may even try putting the skates on and just wearing them around the house.

The trick, as I mentioned earlier, will be dodging cat parts whilst doing the "skater's waddle" around the house. So if you see me wearing fur-trim around my collars and such, you'll know Simon and Billie didn't get their tails out of the way fast enough.

For the first time in about 18 months I went ice skating. For a variety of reasons, my trips to the rink are few and far between. Mostly, though, it's the breaking in my skates that is a HUGE issue (I had major ankle-rub today which tore some of the skin off the inside of my right ankle...Owie!Owie!Owie!), as is dealing with two rather irksome groups of skaters: The out-of-control beginners who go hurtling across the ice and usually drop right at my feet or cut so close in front of me that I can't stop or re-direct quickly enough, and the Ice Princesses who aren't content to practice their jumps and twirls at centre ice (a section specially cordoned off just for them), but have to go flying and twirling right into us "riff-raff".

I have to say, though, that today I did all right: I skated for just about three hours without having to do too much fiddling and twiddling getting my skates laced just right. I find my hockey skates are much better for this than figure skates were because hockey skates are made really sturdy and solid through the ankle so you don't have to deal with either over-wobbly ankles or having your circulation cut off and getting foot/leg cramps...except during the break-in period. My feet fit better in the skates now that I've lost some weight, but getting used to the skates is still A Very Special Kind of Hell.

I visited with the guy in the pro shop while they resurfaced the ice. He suggested a better kind of sock for me to wear (nice and thin, but not because they're threadbare like my socks are) and took my right skate in the back and punched back the ankle area a little bit so it isn't so oppressively tight. He said to just bring them in when I find areas that are particulary uncomfortable and he'll work on them for me. But, talking to him and a couple of hockey dudes on the ice, the only way I'm gonna get these suckers broken in is to wear them. A lot. One of the hockey dudes said I might try "baking" my skates...but I nearly blew up my hair dryer a couple years ago trying that. So, I guess I'll be wearing my skates (with the blade guards ON) around the house until I get them broken in (or is that my feet that will be broken in?). And, according to the Hockey Dude, I need to go "hard core" on the ice and "work up a good sweat." Actually, I could/would do that if I had the strength and skill level needed to be able to dodge the other skaters quickly enough to prevent broken limbs. So, not having my own back yard rink, I shall be wearing those skates whilst watching Netflix, washing dishes, and yes, even when I'm blogging! And I suppose having to dodge stretching cats and (their tails) will be good practice for avoiding the hurtlers and ice princesses at the rink!

So, three hours on the ice and no face-plants, though I had a few near-misses with the hurtlers. (I gave up and left when they got to be a safety hazard and, rather than correcting their habits, the skate patrol guy encouraged more hurtling by chasing them round the rink.) That's a good day out, I'd say!

Whilst the furkids have their supper, I'll try to get warm again, do a bit of stretching, and then it'll be loads of hot tea and a nice, hot bath...and hopefully I won't be totally crippled in the morning!

The furkids and I want to wish you all a very happy holiday (whichever one you celebrate). And if you don't celebrate any specific holiday, well dangit we hope you had a nice day, anyway!

Here's some piccies of our holiday morning.

Todd Bertuzzi received a "conditional discharge" (what we in the States call probation) after pleading guilty to assault causing bodily harm in a Vancouver, BC court today. Basically, he gets community service and he's not to participate in any activity that involves Steve Moore.

This is not the end game, by any means. There's still the matter of the league's suspension and Moore most likely will take this to a civil court. (Here's a refresher on my reaction to the Bertuzzi/Moore incident and my theories as to why these things happen.)

If/when this does go to a civil court, I'll be curious to hear Moore's case. In his victim's impact statement, read in court today, he talks about being a free agent and how no team signed him. OK, part of that undoubtedly has to do with the seriousness of his injuries and how he's recovering: But part of his remaining unsigned also has to do with the fact that the NHL is in the midst of a work stoppage and there were a lot of free agent players that weren't signed to any team. So, should the NHL resume play and all of the comparable players (in terms of talent/skill and experience) get signed, but he doesn't, then he's got a stronger argument. However, if the comparables (Cliff Ronning is one that comes to mind) also remain unsigned, then his argument weakens a bit.

Moore also claims in his victim's impact statement, that nearly every Canucks player that got within earshot of him in that March 8, 2004 game, threatened him. This is something that could have considerable impact in a civil case: However, he's going to need people to corroborate his claim. He'll need players and/or coaches and on-ice officials to testify that they also heard these threats made against him, or that part of his case falls apart. Specifically, they'll need to corroborate that Todd Bertuzzi made some of these threats on the ice, unless Moore is also planning to name the entire Vancouver Canucks organization in his suit. Which is something that I'd strongly consider, given the fact that there were Canucks players quoted in the media who did make threats against Moore (after his hit on Vancouver captain Marcus Nasland). I hope that Moore's attorney has subpoenaed those audio/video tapes (if they still exist), because seeing and hearing those players making threats against Moore might prove rather valuable.

Steve Moore has a long road ahead of him: He appears to be still suffering greatly from post-concussion syndrome and hasn't been able to resume any kind of normal physical activity. And, quite understandably, he harbors quite a bit of emotional pain over the incident as evidenced by his remark "I have no desire to interact with him in any way. I would respectfully request that should I regain my health and someday be able to get back to playing, that Todd Bertuzzi never be permitted to participate in any sporting activity in which I am competing."

I sincerely hope that, starting with today's judgment, Steve Moore can begin the emotional healing that needs to start happening in order to facilitate his physical healing.

And (though I doubt it) I hope that the NHL and hockey players everywhere have learned from this tragic incident and can/will apply these lessons toward making hockey a watchable sport again.

Because it seems lately, whenever I open my mouth around someone and I really want to sound witty and clever and charming, I end up sounding like a complete dumbass.

I got a bottle of American Cream hair conditioner at Lush. It smells so amazingly yummy, I keep trying to eat my hair!

You know, mom, you've lorded this whole Sandy Paws thing over me long enough: I'm not a BAD CAT! You just need to remember the golden rule(s) of living with The Cat.

   * Feed me, and/or
   * Entertain me
    (If you can do both at the same time, that'd be really cool, too!)

But you see, right now NEITHER OF THESE THINGS are happening. Therefore, I get to make your life complete HELL until you either get down on the floor and offer me a selection of toys from the toy basket to play with, or come across with the packet of Pounce!

That is all.

~~~Simon.

The Sixth Harry Potter book is now finished, sez author J.K. Rowling! I haven't seen a release date yet (I guess they're meant to announce that tomorrow), but I'm sure looking forward to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince!

(psssst! I have a link to J.K. Rowling's official site over to the left in the Misc. Links section...It's a fun site to browse.)

But this is NOT one of those months. The PMT has made me weepy, has severely pruned my already-too-short temper, and has given me MONSTER CRAVINGS for salty foods. And the junkier the better. I tried to soothe the PMT beast with a savory glass of vegetable juice cocktail but The Monster screeched, "Veggie juice?!? You gave me VEGGIE JUICE??? Get me a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos PRONTO!"

And today I made the mistake of eating a couple of cocoa-dusted-chocolate-covered-almonds (one of those "only during the holidays" candies). That pissed The Monster right off.

"SWEETS?!? You've given me chocolate??? What part of 'this is a SALT-CRAVING PERIOD' did you NOT UNDERSTAND?!? There's a bag of potato chips right there on the table...nonono, no no, you don't get to complain that they're old and stale and grim. You're going to feed me potato chips, now! EAT THE POTATO CHIPS!! EAT THEM NOW!!!"

Thankfully, The Monster is not rejecting the big mug of chamomile tea and it will let me sleep tonight.

Whenever I scoop her kibbles into her dish, Billie will come over and rub her head on my hand to thank me for her supper (whereas Simon will slap my hand out of his way).

***************

When we're in bed and I'm feeling a little more fragile than usual, Simon picks up on my delicate state and will curl himself (sometimes purring) around my head as if to try to quiet those thoughts and worries that torment my sleep.

I'm a very lucky girl!

Whenever I get frustrated and start pitching one of my world-(in)famous "Donald Duck" temper tantrums, she'll come over and give me a leg rub, just to remind me that she loves me no matter how crazy I get. And when I'm weepy, she'll climb in my lap and rub her head on my face to dry my tears.

When I get up in the morning, she's right there to tell me "good morning" and tell me all her plans for the day (I think it's what she's saying...I don't grok kitty-ese very well). And she's always right at the front door when I come home, anxious to tell me all about her day (and ask when I think her supper might be served).

And when she first came to live with us, I tried out all kinds of goddess and heroine names for her, but she was having none of it. You see, she had a goddess in mind herself: Billie Holiday. Gotta love a girl who won't settle for less than what she wants!

The other evening I was out with a friend and I was complaining that, now that I'm in a better "head" space for a relationship, I just can't find anyone to really connect with.

"That's because you're picky," she said.

Oh, ooookayyyy. Just so I've got this right: I'm not supposed to expect to get someone in my life who likes ME, is interested in ME, who--golly dare I say it?--LOVES ME and have that man be someone I could/would love back? I don't get to be with a man with whom I can be friends and lovers, a relationship where we inspire and support each other, make each other laugh, make each other's spine tingle just hearing each other's voices, and be a flippin' brilliant team?

I'm being too picky because I want to be with a man that I'M INTERESTED IN?!?

Harrrrrumph!

Or, "Why I often use the washers and dryers at the laundromat instead of at my apartment complex".

What is so dang difficult about timing your laundry loads so that when someone else (like, say, ME) needs to use the machines they aren't stuck either 1) going from one laundry room to the other trying to find available machines; or 2) waiting around for you to show up and take your stuff away; or 3) having to handle your underwear because I can't wait all night to get my clothes dried.

Have some respect for your neighbours, already!

I was just checking my site stats and found my humble li'l blog had a visitor from "New York, New York, Canada"! (There was even a little Canadian flag next to the entry on the visitor log.) Perhaps the prophecy will come to pass!

(Though I must admit, I think getting the Canadians to take us Californians in might be a tougher sell...)

Duuuuuuddde!

Twenty-four years ago today, Mark David Chapman shot John Lennon to death outside the Dakota Apartments in New York City.

Wherever you are tonight, John, I still miss you but am ever grateful for the amazing music you gave us!

Just to set the record straight right away, I'm completely on the fence regarding the death penalty. I have serious problems with the idea of "the people" killing someone in order to demonstrate to "the people" that killing is wrong. Yet, there have been crimes committed that are so heinous that I don't think the perpetrator should ever be allowed to see another sunrise or sunset, or enjoy another breath of fresh air. So, bearing that, I'm very glad that I'm not sitting on the Peterson jury having to decide whether to recommend life without the possibility of parole, or death by lethal injection.

This week, though, I found myself growing very frustrated with the defense team's strategy of putting up character witnesses all week long who raved about what a great golfer Scott Peterson is, or some school official who never actually really knew him when he was in second grade, but dangit, he's a good citizen nonetheless! I always believed that the defense used the penalty phase of a trial to put witnesses on the stand who could/would speak to the mitigating circumstances that may have caused the defendant to commit the crime for which he is convicted (i.e., mental problems). It doesn't amount to a heck of a lot that this guy was a great golfing buddy and a nice kid in grade school, when it turns out he was a total asshole to his wife (i.e., the extra-marital affair(s)) and ended up murdering her and thus killing his unborn son. Yeah, gee, great guy, Scott Peterson!

If I were a juror having to listen to all of that irrelevant drivel, I would have been thoroughly pissed off that Mark Gerragos was, as one local radio talk show host put it so perfectly, filibustering the penalty phase by putting up witness after witness full of irrelevant testimony!

I'm not naive; I understand that the strategy was to put as much distance between the powerful and emotional testimony of Laci Peterson's mother, Sharon Rocha, and the final witness, Scott's mother Jackie Peterson. But, I have to wonder if Gerragos' strategy might backfire on him and his client when you consider that this is a very busy time of year for most people (holidays and all) and that these jurors have already given up several months of their lives for this trial. Might they feel a little less than sympathetic toward Scott and his family, considering the fact that this trial has likely caused a great deal of chaos in the lives of the jury?

Which brings me to the testimony of Jackie Peterson. This woman, it appears, has suffered horrendous hardship throughout her entire life. Ever since I first saw this frail-looking woman who needs a portable oxygen tank to breathe, I felt for her. (By the way, to those of you who shouted those horrible words at her the day Scott was convicted of murdering Laci and Connor, ROT IN HELL YOU EVIL BASTARDS! She did not deserve those hateful words: She did not commit murder!) This woman had endured so much loss and hardship growing up, then she shockingly and suddenly lost her beautiful daughter-in-law and future grandson. And now she believes that she's facing the prospect of losing her son. But here again, I ask myself, as hard as her life has been, how is that relevant to the fact that her son stands convicted of a horrible crime and what sort of punishment HE should get?

The reality of the situation is that she most likely will not lose her son. The conviction will be appealed over and over again. Even if the jury does recommend lethal injection and the judge agrees and sentences Scott Peterson to die, it could be another 20 years before he is executed. And, as strong as Jackie Peterson has had to be, I'm not sure I see her lasting another 20 years (though if she does, she has to be one of the toughest women ever to roam this world).

My heart goes out to both of these mothers: I can only begin to imagine the unbelievably cruel and horrible pain they are both going through. These women have endured enough pain, enough "punishment". But that isn't the question, here, is it? The question these jurors face is what price must Scott Peterson pay for the crimes of murdering his wife and killing his unborn son.

I'm glad I don't have to make this decision.

Seems that Madame Tussads' version of the Nativity is creating a bit of a flap. But would these church officials, who claim to be so deeply offended by the display, be equally as disturbed if, say, these celebrities were acting these parts in a Christmas pageant? I guess I'm just wondering what exactly it is the Vatican and other church leaders are trying to defend here.

Honestly, I think Tussads' take on the Cult of Celebrity in this display is bloody brilliant! (Graham Norton as a shepherd....bwaaahahahahaha!)

YO! Yeah, YOU in the old Toyota pickup! When the traffic lights are not working, you treat the intersection as a FOUR-WAY STOP! You don't plow through the intersection at 45 mph (in a 25 mph zone, no less!) and then blast your horn at the other drivers who had the right-of-way!

And YOU, IN THE SATURN VUE! In future, please put your left turn signal on before the light changes from red to green so that those of us behind you know your intentions and can get around you and not be stuck sitting through yet ANOTHER light! (You might have been forgiven if you would have had the common courtesy to pull slightly into the intersection once the light changed to prepare to make your turn, so we could get past you. But noooooooooo, you had to be a total inconsiderate dumbass and sit in the same spot, and then wait until our light was RED again to make your left turn!)

Don't make me flare my nostrils, PEOPLE!

The Pennsylvania Attorney General is suing the university that awarded his cat a bogus MBA.

So, tell me why doesn't some AG with time on his/her hands sue the universities who award degrees (and full-ride scholarships) to athletes who rarely show up for class and get bad grades? In my books, that's just as bogus.

**Evidently, the furkids are rounding into quirks and habits which have the effect of using my last nerve as a scratching post. So, for accounting purposes, Simon is the 'lucky you're so cute' cat and Billie is the one getting by on her beauty and good looks. ~~ed.

OK, I don't care how excited you are when the winds blow the leaves off of the big tree in the back yard, you do NOT bat on the window blinds in the bedroom at THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING so I will open them so you can watch the leaves fall! And then you had the unmitigated gall to expect me to get up and get you a SNACK?!?!?? Helloooooo? Do I look like a 24-hour restaurant?

Just remember, I have a direct line into "Sandy Paws"...so, you'd better watch out, you'd better not cry and you'd damn well better quit trying to get me out of bed before sunrise!

I just found out that a friend from an artist's community I belong to passed away last month.

Gen had a beautiful spirit that shone through in her photography and in her postings to the online forum I hang out at. A few months ago, we participated in a post card exchange where we send post cards of our own photographs to each other. Gen sent me a post card of a gorgeous kitty (wonder how she knew that I love cats?;-))!

Every time I look at that post card from Gen, her beauty will live again.