Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Rap Battles for Jesus

Huffington Post just put up this amazing video of a Christian rap group espousing the merits of the "Christian Side Hug", therefore making sure teens don't accidentally have sex with one another while front-hugging.

Besides the inane subject matter, there are so many things to love about this video: the gunshot and police siren side effects (because guns and violence are cool as long as you don't hug anyone ), the weird bridge where they start talking about the decmocratic shift in congress, and the AMAZING chorus which says:

"I'm a Rough Rider
Filled up with Christ's' love"



Monday, November 16, 2009

I'm a writer so I am writing....

I am, for once, really truly at a loss. But I'm a writer, so I will write about it, because it's all I've got. If anyone reads this, I apologize ahead of time for the 100 percent self-indulgence that it reflects. But it's my blog and and I will cry if I want to. For lack of a better term. If you want light entertainment, feel free to look at other past (and I'm sure future) posts that contain hilarious links to retarded videos.

This morning, after my feline companion of 14 years, decided to have his little kitty heart attack I put his lifeless little body in a cat carrier and waited around for two hours for my vet to open. As soon as I got in touch I ran out of the house heaving the basket and realized what the term "dead weight" means. The little guy got a lot heavier with all that death in him, so I ended up getting a car, and then let myself have a little nervous breakdown outside of the vet before I went in. I didn't really say goodbye to him or anything, just handed him over, carrier and all. I opted to not get his ashes back, as I've never quite undestood how people find any solace in that tradition. My family isn't really one for funerals or things so I am always at a loss at these moments. It's an incredibly lonely feeling, to just give that little body away, but I didn't have the option of a ritual that would give me closure, so I was stuck with signing a credit card receipt for $75 to have hiim cremated somewhere in New Jersey. That had to do.

Then I walked home, called my dad, cried, slept, cried, watched TV, cried, checked facebook about 45 times, cried, slept, watched the Mad Men season finale, and then cried. What the hell? With the amount of moisture that has left my body I should be a dehydrated corpse at this point, but I apparently have a limitless reserve of tears for these occasions. I finally pulled it together and though maybe I was done for a bit, until my vet called to see how I was doing. Floodgates reopened. Doesn't take much.

It's been such a long time since I have dealt with death, which obviously is a good thing, but I forgot how these moments bring up so many feelings and questions and sense of displacement. You can't help but think how fleeting it all is. Especially with animals, who leave nothing behind besides a few cat toys and those adorable pictures that you took of them when they climbed into that laundry basket or whatever. But other than that, their existence is just a collection of your memories -- there are no things, no letters, no poems, no books they have written, no paintings they have painted, nothing. Just the memory you get when you look at the drawer that he would sleep in if you forgot to close it before going out or the scratches on your sofa where he would claw even though you would yell at him not to, and that has to be enough, but the impermanence of it is so sad and depressing and empty.

That said, although I am at best agnostic, I do believe that if there is proof of God that it lies largely in the amazing connection we have to our pets. So thanks to Franklin, my amazing cat, for giving me that connection and for being my most consistent loving, sometimes exasperating, curious, and entertaining friend for almost half my life. If there is a God you are with him surely.

Rest in peace my friend.

Uh-oh, floodgates again.....

There's nothing like sitting around with your dead cat to make you want to start blogging again....

My cat died about 20 minutes ago in my bed.

I was planning on having him put down today. I called the vet yesterday to make the appointment but they were already closed at 3pm so I figured I would just call first thing this morning. When I came home last night he was in bad shape and I put him in bed with me. He started seizing this morning and I just watched helplessly and tried to pet and calm him and then suddenly he was gone.

I don't know what time my vet opens his doors. It's about 6:30am and I think they may not open until 8am. This is a predicament. I put Franklin in his cat carrier and then wondered what I could do to pass the time, besides the obvious (cry, feel terrible, cry more, feel terrible more).

I pondered reading my Carlos Castaneda or History of Qabbala books but mulling over the nature of human (and animal) existence and deeper theological questions, although perfectly appropriate at times like these, is a little deeper than I care to go. Taking my Rosetta Stone French lesson somehow seems inappropriate and watching the glare of vapid morning TV programs just seems like a headache-inducing waste of time.

So here I am, pouring heart and soul into a defunct blog because there is nothing else to do at times like these but write down how terrible you feel and have the whole world read about it on some public platform. Such is the world we live in. At least I am not Tweeting about this. Yet.

From Franklin's (soon to be) ashes, I guess this blog has arisen again. I will find something less maudlin to write about next time I post, because hopefully I will not need something I love dearly to have died inches from my face in order to get me to write on here again.

We'll see.