~~ "She has so many aliases, you'd think she was a spy!" ~~

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Damn cat

[written last night]

3:30 am  Realize it’s half an hour past my bedtime. Text Ken to that effect. Head into bedroom to drop off book to read and turn on bedside light; discover cat has pooped on upper part of bed (near but not on pillow). Poop is mostly dry, but attempts to clean off residue fail. Stupid hyper-sense of smell. Strip bed, head downstairs with icky sheets, intending to find clean sheets.

3:35 am  Discover cat puke in dining room (hairball + extra, yay). Ken returns phone call. However, he forgot to charge his helmet during his last stop. He’s just getting back on the road. Dump old sheets on washer, obtain new sheets. Bash foot into coffee table in media room while heading in to give both cats scritchies. Lose connection with Ken.

3:45 am  Ken texts to say helmet is dead. Clean cat puke off dining room floor, pondering the fact that the wood isn’t treated and technically shouldn’t be cleaned with a wet cleaner. However, spatters of cat puke successfully removed. Feel conflicted.

3:55 am  Remake bed. Take evening medications. Discover phone is missing. Go back downstairs, retrace route, give cats scritchies again, find phone on arm of media room sofa.

4 am  Plug phone in. Write blog post; decide to send after I wake up. Limp off to bathroom to brush teeth, etc., hoping for no more excitement except in the book I'm intending to read.

9 am (projected): Cat will start stomping on bed and miaowing in the hopes that I will wake up and feed him. If I fail to comply, he may repeat the previous morning’s attempt to wake me, which involved albeit very gentle claws raked down a sensitive portion of my anatomy that was exposed thanks to the morning being overly warm.

[written this morning]


9 am  On the nose. Damn cat.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Ken's off...and, oddly, so am I

Today Ken left for the start of the 2013 Iron Butt Rally. The actual IBR starts in Pittsburgh on July 1, although there are two days of tech inspections and a banquet and what-all leading up to that.

Many of you followed along as he ran the 2011 IBR, up to and including his accident. We’ve finally gotten his website set up, and I’ll be posting there (as well as, probably, little updates on FB and Twitter) for the 11 days he’s running. I can’t give specifics on what he’s planning or where he’s going or, often, even where he’s been, but I can let you know how he’s feeling and how things are going overall.

(This is because a few IBRs ago, someone had their friends track the top rider(s) and then followed them to try and match their route. This goes against the spirit of the IBR and, quite frankly, is poopy. We scowl at these people. But it means I can’t officially blog about Ken’s route/ride, and I respect that rule.)

If you’re reading this and wondering what the hell this goofily named rally is, go to Ken’s website, where I’ve posted the primer I wrote two years ago, with some updates.

As for me, well, I’m asking you all for a wee bit of support during this. I’m working on accepting that worry is a useless emotion, that it doesn’t help or hinder or change anything. It’s just an energy-sucking mindset. Intellectually, I understand that and agree with it. Emotionally…  ::deep breath::  My worry or not-worry had no affect on his accident two years ago, and I’m working on embracing that moving forwards. (Plus he ran two long rallies last year without a hitch.) So please think good thoughts, and if you can, be available and patient if I need some hand-holding.

I’m also not able to be at the final banquet where they announce the winner, as it’s in Pittsburgh and I need to be at a workshop in Oregon the next day, and finagling those flights proved prohibitively expensive. So I’m torn between wanting Ken to win more than anything else, and knowing that I’ll be gutted if he wins and I’m not there.

Nah. He damn well better win this thing!

Anyway…I’d forgotten (again) what it feels like when he’s first gone, how it takes me a day or two to settle in. My stomach’s in knots, as if I’m stressed, but intellectually, I’m not—it’s ore that I’m unsettled. Instead of coordinating my day with him, I can eat when I want, sleep when I want. I mean, I do that anyway, but usually we have lunch and dinner together, watch some TV together, run errands together. The house is quiet except for the cats, and they’re not very loud most of the time.

I have to make sure I don't fall into my frequent trap of becoming a hermit, because although I need alone time (especially to work), I need people, too. To that end, I’ve got the Neil Gaiman reading/signing tomorrow night (meeting people there), Morgana might come over Saturday, and Sunday I’m getting together with a couple other writers for lunch and a writing fest. Next week, I’ve got workouts with my trainer on Monday and Wednesday, and chiro appointment. Hey, that makes me feel better already.  :-)

If anyone wants to get together for lunch or a movie or walking/jogging, let me know!