palmerpink

What an emo-esque title, eh? Well, I tracked down all the pictures I had of Cali and put them up on picasa. I also added them into yesterday's post--I was so angry at myself that I hadn't even included that one I really, really like. Oh well. Cali I'll probably get some more from my dad later (they were pretty close, too; also he's a bit of a shutterbug and she was a bit of a shutterskank), but these ain't all that bad for now.

I put Cali to sleep on Friday. It's been tough, naturally, and all too lifey. I'm sorry this is such a long one, guys; this isn't some frivolous update afterall. For those of you who want to skip to the poem, yeah, click here . Anyway.... I miss my cat. Let me just say that up front. I miss her. I really do. But....I'm sure there's some vast reasoning or magical thinking I could use to justify the decision entirely. I'll just leave it at—It was the right thing to do. Or, where that isn't good enough,—I did well by her. Even before the vet found the growth (probably lymphoma) in her tummy, I tried my best to treat her well—she was obviously sick. She made it easy by being adorable and playful and lovable most of the time and only preciously infuriating the rest of the time. She was an absolute brat last Winter—she couldn't eat her own food without puking and she'd find her way into any other kind of food out of desperation. Even dishwater, a

Decisions....are something I'm very bad at. As I said the other day, I wanted to try to pick out some things from my to do list and decide (my word was "commit") I was going to do them and then hold myself accountable by reporting back to my sponsor or stuff. Pretty simple. Well, I did one of them--called back Panera to see if they still wanted to interview me (haven't heard back.... >.<)--but otherwise lazed off the others. Working on my resume, looking up jobs on craigslist. Avoided might be a better word, though the verb of choice is likely somewhere in between. I don't like feeling incompetent, and I don't like feeling useless, but what am I supposed to do? I suppose this is a great time to work on turning things over--praying, calling my network now and then, if only to keep myself outside of my head. One thing that buggers things is that not matter how hard I seem to try to commit myself, nothing seems able to reign in my mind's e

So, my cousin Jill is pretty awesome. She's the only daughter of my dad's older sister, Judy, and she's an astrophysicist. Or something. Like, she definitely got her degree in astrophysics. Nowadays, she can be seen doing cool shit like this: Her video, here, captures what it means to be a Palmer. What others may deem dorky frivolity, we see as endless amusement. We know stuff--lots of stuff, often--but use our intelligence not to show off or pwn the world, but to give ourselves a hearty laugh. Or a gleeful giggle, as Jill illustrated. We are a goofy bunch, you can be sure. But we keep life interesting. Sure, we could go off naming some new nebulae or calculating singularities (or writing the next great American novel), but we just wouldn't be proper Palmers if we didn't find some way to make ourselves break out a grin and a laugh over something loosely relevant or wonderfully obscure or fantastically blinky-shiny. For me, I know I wouldn't have

I need to get to the doings soon so I guess I can't talk for long. I guess I can't really talk, period, but meh....I need to get blogging again. I had an interesting time downtown yesterday. I finally finished reading my book (Graham Greene's  The Heart of the Matter ) and it was thoroughly excellent. I'm still mulling it over some. That last chunk was...real interesting. I like the whole book, regardless of what I may or may not think about the way it ends, adn frankly I like it too, but I might also love it. It's kinda a funny feeling to have after finishing a book. I also got a bunch of random literary ideas. The comfort of limbs. Transitions and moving on, the shouldn't-be surprise of it. A funny way to complain about one's dick size. Some further thoughts on other projects I've been known to fiddle with of late. I also got a "bit lost downtown" in that way I enjoy. You know, taking a wrong--either by choice or by accident (accident

It's a wondrous thing. Also, evil. It never flows quite right, it seems. It always plays tricks on me. I've read that the perception of (the passage of) time can be heavily affected by ADD. It's distorted by everything from the moment to moment inattentiveness to excitement. This means I often tend not to realize how long things take or will take--that is, how long I took doing something or how long I'll need to do something. I've learned to cope with it (mostly); other people think I'm crazy sometimes, othertimes they think I'm just bullshitting them. But there's a reason, a method to my madness. Or unmadness. Either way. For example: Because of a scheduling snafu--or as I like to call them, a clerical error*--I was scheduled to potentially work today when I was already supposed to be at an appointment. My manager said it was ok if I came in later on (if they end up needing me at all). Naturally he asked when I expected I could get to the sto

First of all, a big thank you to everyone who offered help, showed support, and otherwise responded so warmly to Sunday's post about Cali . I've continued doing what I can to make things as easy and pleasant for her. Today I figured out how to give her both of her meds--the bluey liquid stuff and the half pill. (It was the pill that was tough to figure out...cat owners will probably know what I'm talking about.) In the last day or so, I've been partly heartened by people's feedback, but mostly by improvement she's shown--however marginal. She seems to be responding well to the meds (and the TLC :-) ); she's actually been eating and getting perkier. She's taken to sleeping on my pillow next to my head while I sleep. This morning when I got up, she did part of her little flirty-thing--where she gives you these eyes and then rolls over with a chortle. I almost melted: it was so encouraging & heartwarming to see she  isn't just a shell, a wor

No need for a clever title--my cat Cali is dying. I should have known it--even a rotten tooth or jaw couldn't really account for  this much weight loss--but it took a visit to the vet to find out. She has a "growth", a "mass", in her stomach. The vet put her money on lymphoma but whatever it is Cali probably doesn't have too much longer. She's 8 1/2 years old, and very sick. Even if we could fork over the thousands and thousands for a full run of treatment--surgery and chemo--she probably wouldn't live for even another year, maybe not even half that. We've gone the mostly humane, cost-effective route. (God, that's hard to justify....) She's on cortisone right now and some pill; or some bluey stuff and a pill-form of cortisone. Whichever. They're meant to ease her pain and bring bck some of her appetite (the growth in her belly is probably causing her severe feelings of nausea/fullness). I need to call the vet. I don't wan