KNTconfessions

Addicted to Pony Island

KNTconfessions — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 05:51:00 GMT

I started playing a website called Pony Island, and I am finding it incredibly addictive. It is a fantasy pony breeding game that sort of looks like My Little Pony. Breeding is based on a hex system, so that you get predictable and unpredictable results based on a consistent set of rules. The art work is gorgeous. My work WoW buddy said that he thought they were strange-looking. I would say the target audience are girls.

One of the Facebook apps allows the user to breed cats. I had some success with that. But the more you had in the program, the more sluggish it ran. I was starting to get frustrated. I like the thought of creating my own lines and seeing how their program translated it, but I really wanted something a little more.

I used to have Catz. I probably bought every iteration of it. What I was looking for was something similar, except that I don’t feel the need to play with the animals. I am aware that what you get is not based on real genetics, but on how the programmers programmed it.

Catz is out of date, and as far as I could find, it does not run on Windows Vista. I looked at Creatures, and I believe that doesn’t run on Vista either. In the past, I didn’t have much luck with that game anyway. You had to teach the creatures to feed themselves, and mine kept starving to death. Stupid digital animals!

I did searches for animal breeding games, and I found a site called Creature Breeder. It is free, but the graphics are simple and not very attractive. I signed up, but I probably won’t play it much.

I read about Pony Island, and at first, I was not interested. I wasn’t sure I wanted to breed ponies. However, when I got there, I quickly fell in love with the pictures. One of the pony breeds is called a PurrPony and looks like a cat. They don’t move or play, but they can be any color, literally, and you can breed them.

Of course, I went a little nuts. I have narrowed it down to 3 types of ponies to specialize in; Purr, Phoenix and Kirin. There is a controversy between “purebred,” and “non-purebred.” You can interbreed every kind of pony. The type you end up with is a 50-50 chance between the mother and the father. You can look back in a pony’s pedigree and see if it was “pure” or “mixed breed.” Now, ultimately, it doesn’t really matter because they are not real animals. They are a pictorial representation of an idea of what a fantasy pony would look like. It is all according to taste and preference. I did find, however, it was exciting to look into a pedigree and see a pure line. I found I was willing to pay more for one of those over a mix. Still, I have a limited amount of game money and must control myself.

The babies become adults in 20 days, and they can have offspring 5 days after they breed. Most of what I bought were babies, but I have bred a couple of adult females and I am expecting foals Feb 3 and 4. I am very excited. I can’t wait to begin my breeding program full scale. Still, there is endless cataloging and planning to do.

Sick is the New Healthy

KNTconfessions — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 04:50:00 GMT

When I am stressed, I get sick. When I was younger, stress made me more susceptible to colds. As I get older, my body is finding new and ever more fun ways to break down. There was a couple of years I had repeated bouts of tonsillitis.

I have a sebaceous cyst on my back where my bra strap falls. It makes sense I’d get one there, as they are sometimes caused by ingrown hairs. I’ve had it for years. Maybe ten or more. I “watched” it (more like felt it, as it is on my back and all) and made sure it didn’t hurt, or change, or grow. It wasn’t bothering me, so I didn’t see a reason to have it looked at. It was, as they say, on my To Do List.

Anyway, around Wednesday I guess, my back started to hurt. It felt like a pimple feels when it’s under your skin and you know it won’t ever pop. I was worried about CK, though. I didn’t really pay attention. On Thursday, when CK was at the vet, I sat with my back against a heating pad a couple of times. I had heard or read that heat was good for such things and it did make it feel a little better. On Friday, when the pain hadn’t resolved, I investigated it. I felt it with my hand and tried to look at it in the mirror. It looked red and there was swelling around it that hadn’t been there before.

I gave it the weekend, and this morning I called the Dr. I saw the Nurse Practitioner, or whatever; she looks 12... She said that it was infected and she gave me antibiotics. She also said to put the heating pad on it. It will draw blood to the area, and since the antibiotics are in the blood, it brings more medicine there.

I can’t say for sure that my latest ailment is stress related, but the timing makes sense. I was worried about CK for so long. (And he went through it all with flying colors!) And my Christmas really sucked. I was in tears several times. I had fantasies of disappearing so no one could ever find me. It was all a lot of stress to pile on my little shoulders.

There are studies that stress affects the immune system. Perhaps a little group of bacteria in my back decided to have a party because nothing was keeping them in check. As much as we hate to believe this, we are surrounded by and invaded by bacteria every day. It’s on us, it’s in us, we eat it, we breathe it every day, but our immune system or good bacteria keeps it in check… until it doesn’t.

I’ve got ten days of antibiotics. Then I was instructed I should go see a general surgeon to see if he thinks it should be removed. You mean, “when.” Because he is going to recommend that, of course. Unless the sucker heals and absorbs into my skin until it’s imperceptible, he’s not going to say we should leave it alone; it already got infected once. Besides, he’s a surgeon. I could be wrong, but I don’t think a surgeon is in the habit of saying, “you don’t need surgery.”

My health is important, but now that my deductible is $500 and I’d paying for the entirety of this procedure, we’ll see. I’ll make some educated guesses on my own and see if I think I need it. (And we all know how well that works out… an emergency gall-bladder-ectomy later!) If I can still feel it, I promise to at least get it evaluated. But in the meantime, I will be asking my body to absorb it, and see how mind affects body.

World of Warcraft Random Instances Day

KNTconfessions — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 15:06:00 GMT

In the last Scarlet Monastery - Cathedral run, I knew we were in for an interesting run when I was doing the most damage. Not that I mind being kick-ass. It certainly beats my last Uldaman run where I, once again, did the least damage. We had a cautious tank, who only wanted to pull a couple at a time. I don’t mind that either. It would mean a longer run, but I am not impatient.

I have to admit I understand why Hunters are sometimes called Huntards. My main is a Hunter, so I never liked that designation. To play one well and successfully, you really need to keep control of your pet. He better not ever go after anything you didn’t intend.

I had run with this hunter before; I recognized the name. Another Dwarf Hunter with a bear. He pulled too many, and got us killed. The second time, we were not done clearing out the minor boss when the bear went after one of the main bosses. One by one, we fell. It was chaos. One person dropped out, and I decided I didn’t want to keep dying, so I dropped too… I felt a little guilty, since I was doing more damage than the tank! If we had not wiped the second time, I would simply have voted the Huntard out. Oh, well.

D defended the previous Huntard, the one with the spider. He said that he has to learn somehow. While I agree with that, I don’t want to educate him. If the group was stronger, he wouldn’t have caused such chaos, and maybe he would have learned. Instead, I’d bet everyone left him. If I see his name again, I will watch him carefully. Stupidity that doesn’t cause wipes is forgivable, the opposite is not.

On the good side, my Rogue leveled to 41. I am now able to queue for Maraudon and Zul’Farrak. I am curious how they will play with a random group.

I got TWO random Maraudon - Orange Crystals. They have incorrectly categorized the level for that. Every mob is Red to me. I’ve read complaints on the forum about it. At level 41, I don’t think I should be fighting a level 46 boss. The problem is, I didn’t see Blizzard address it on the forums. I have a bad feeling that they aren’t going to fix it.

We ran the first one only to Razorlash. Having soloed Maraudon on my Hunter, I know how mind-numbingly big the instance really is. I bailed on my second group because I died, and because I really didn’t want to try to do that dungeon again. I was doing better damage because we were all lower-leveled. Still, there is a line between “challenging” and “not fun.” At level 41, it is not fun.

I needed one more item to complete the Uldaman quest chain, so I queued specifically for that dungeon. The chain has you going back at least 3 times, but I knew that once I killed the end boss, that would be the end of the chain. This was the first time I specifically chose a dungeon, and it did take a bit of time to get in. While I waited, I completed a small quest.

I didn’t think we were doing badly, but we did pull too many and we died. I didn’t notice that the others were dead until they all aggro’d me. Our first tank dropped us. We queued, got another, and he dropped when he saw which instance he got. They wanted me to tank, and I tried, but I am bad at it. We finally got a real tank, and somewhere in the middle, he died. He was the only one who died, and the healer was about to resurrect him, and he dropped. I said, “We are cursed, lol.” We got another tank, and we finished the instance. It was an interesting series of events. I wasn’t going to leave, though, because I needed that final quest item. I think only 3 of the original 5 remained to the end.

What Is

KNTconfessions — Sat, 09 Jan 2010 05:31:00 GMT

Thursday, I took CK in to the vet’s office at 7:30 am. I was tense all day. I didn’t go anywhere. I could hardly do anything. I watched TV and crocheted a lot. Every time I tried to play WoW, I couldn’t concentrate. Bandit spent a lot of time with me, as if he was comforting me. I wondered if he was wondering where his adopted brother was, or enjoying his one-on-one time with me.

I had no idea when they were going to work on him. I assumed early, but I assumed wrong. The Dr called me around 4:30. He said that the x-rays showed that CK would probably not develop full-blown Stomatitis. There were some teeth that needed to come out because they were showing bone changes, but the others looked fine. I had only wanted to remove them all to prevent future disease. So I had him remove only the ones he felt needed it. He cleaned the rest.

I was able to bring him home at 8:30 pm. It cost me about $1500, which is better than I thought it was going to be. I’ll take him back in about 3 weeks for evaluation, then he said maybe in another 6 months to see how things progressed. I am going to try to brush his teeth.

When I arrived to pick him up, the vet tech asked if I was CK’s mommy. I hesitated before I said yes. It is instinct not to say he’s ‘mommy’s baby’ in public. I don’t want people thinking I am a crazy cat lady. At home, he’s got many cute nick-names and gets hugs and kisses.

He was apparently very docile for them. From the other visits, I expected that. When he got home, he was probably still a little under the influence of the anesthesia. His eyes were very dilated. He ran around smelling everything. They said I could feed him, so I put some food out for him. Poor thing didn’t eat all day. He was really hungry. He ate about three quarters of a can; I gave it to him in increments, to try to be nice to his tummy. He didn’t have any problems.

He was so badly behaved! It was as if he was making up for all the mischief he missed doing during the day. He tried to get into the trash can. He got into one of my kitchen cabinets. One of my pens ended up in his water bowl. He must have had a hell of a night! He was happy to see me as well. He kept coming to me for comfort.

I’ve got pain meds for him for three days. I am confused because the Dr said not to give it if he doesn’t need it, and the vet tech gave me instructions to give it for three days. Cats are so stoic that it will be hard to tell. Perhaps it’s just better to give it to him. It’s not like I can ask him.

Today, he seemed extra clingy, but things are getting back to normal. I had a moment where I sat between Bandit and CK on the couch. I got to watch them both go through REM sleep. It was so nice to be between my beautiful boys. It was one of those perfect moments that you wish you could remember forever, but you know it will eventually fade. The most you can hope for is more perfect moments just like it.

I found out that L is pregnant again. Yippee. I can’t help but feel a little jealous, but this is the year my life diverges from their’s. It’s high time. I am not sure where my path will take me, but I need to lose my fatalism and make this life mean something.

Yesterday, I wanted to play WoW, but I couldn’t. Today, I could. I have been playing random instances via the Dungeon Finder tool. I have been progressing very quickly this way, and having lots of fun. It is not good for farming, so I am not bringing in anything in these runs. Some cloth, a few greens, some skins when time allows. I got to see a couple of instance I never saw before; Uldaman and Razorfen Downs.

I found that I did very well in the Scarlet Monastery runs, but in the other two, I wasn’t as stellar. Sometimes I get in a group that does so much damage that by the time I get there, they’ve mostly cleared it. I like it when I feel like I contribute. One of the things I can do is interrupt; I’ve gotten pretty good at Kick.

I was doing the least amount of damage in the Uldaman run according to Recount. I have my own version, so I could see it very well. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t do much about it. One of the group kept posting the Recount stats. It made me wonder what he was trying to prove. There have been stories on the net of people getting voted out of the group for doing low damage-per-second. I was afraid I might get voted out. No one commented on the Recount stats, but later, the poster left the group. I’m not quite sure why. We were never close to wiping. Maybe he was just impatient because the instance was so big.

At first, I felt weird about leveling this way. But with my Hunter, I had done few instance, and done few pick-up-groups. I took her through as many quests as possible, even the low-level ones. I farmed, I did dailies, I did reputation grinds, I collected pets and mounts. It is not such a bad thing, then, to do this differently with my rogue.

I may be jinxing myself to say this, but I’ve mostly had good groups. Several of the groups worked so well that we did additional instances together. I am enjoying playing groups with healers.

One group, in Gnomeregan, voted out the tank. He wasn’t great, but I wouldn’t have voted him out. We hadn’t wiped, but he did keep doing unintentional pulls. In fact, when the screen popped up to boot him, I thought “oh, that’s mean,” and I didn’t click it. Apparently, enough people did click it.

In another run, in the Scarlet Monastery, a dwarf hunter kept messing up, and he got booted. Here’s the scene: He put down a couple of traps, shot at 4 Scarlet guards who ran across the traps. Then he ran back and forth while they pounded him and we tried to save him. He had pulled the aggro all on himself and he couldn’t handle it. It was quite comical, actually. Such a noob move. It was the last straw and someone put up the vote.

When someone leaves the group in the middle of a run, Dungeon Finder finds a replacement. I only got brought in the middle of one so far. When I ran in, one of their group was disconnected. He was holding a spot that I knew we would need to fill to kill the bosses. He could have lost internet connectivity, or like me once, maybe the cat stepped on the power strip button and turned off the computer. I clicked to vote him out, he was booted, and we got a replacement. I think that will probably be the only reason I would initiate a boot. If he dc’d in error, he’ll just have to sign back on and enter the queue again.

I think it must feel pretty crappy to be voted out. I hope that I am never on the receiving end. If I am, I’ll have to understand that they are strangers and it is just a game. I have to admit, though, that I probably lost my taste for PvP when I was called “the shittiest player” on the field. Yes, but an idiot flea who didn’t know how to play as a team. Still, it played on my insecurities.

There are difference between the dungeons and the battlegrounds that make the dungeons more fun. 1) The configuration of the team is consistent; healer, tank, 3 dps. In a battleground, you don’t know what you are going to get, and healers are rare. 2) There is greater cooperation because the goal is shared. In a battleground, the sense of teamwork is very poor; too many people are out for themselves, to get honorable kills, than to win the match. 3) I haven’t seen any devolution into immature name-calling, which I’ve seen far too often in battlegrounds. (I’m sure that may happen eventually.)

The only other news is that Bandit will be turning one year January 19. He just had the quietest, cutest cat spazz in the world. He has grown up into my sweet, gentle boy. I think his personality is what most people would want in a cat.

Happy 2010

KNTconfessions — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 02:51:00 GMT

The holidays are over and I am relieved that we are into 2010. This year I was unable to filter out the guilt and bad feelings and simply pretend that I didn’t know these people. Sometimes I wish I could disappear, go somewhere they could never find me.

I don’t feel like cataloging what happened. I want to put it all behind me. The thought that epitomizes my feelings is this: If all you ever do is remind me of the ways that I’ve failed you, how can I ever win?

Suicidal thoughts will never be something I am completely free of. It’s like an old song I keep playing time and time again. The feeling goes away and I find a new song to sing. My obligation to my cats is one way I can always talk myself down.

I think one of the necessities of life is to have a purpose. The fact that my boys need me gives me that purpose. I cannot leave them because no one would love them and spoil them like I do. Spending time with them is one of my greatest joys. They are my furry family. What I get in return for all that I do for them is well worth it.

My dad came over Thursday night. Bandit came out to see him. He sniffed him over before he eventually let my dad pet him, and he rubbed against his leg. He didn’t stay long, but he was certainly friendly enough. He even came back later for seconds. My dad said that he had a really pretty face. And he does, his wide copper eyes surrounded by their white eye-liner. His gray face, shading into a cute tan nose above white lips. He is a pretty boy with the face of an angel.

When I got Bandit, I misinterpreted his broad features and stocky body. I thought he was going to be big. Apparently, my powers of prognostication are poor. He’s bigger than my girl cats were, but he’s not going to be monster-sized. CK is going to be bigger.

Because my dad is quiet and he didn’t move off of the couch, CK came out to see him. He ranged around behind me, even came to lay beside me on the end table and stare, but he did not let my dad touch him. He is entirely my baby. I don’t have a lot of guests, so he hasn’t had many chances to socialize. It’s okay, he doesn’t really need anyone but me. I am sure that he would learn to trust someone if he was around them often, but he will always be mine.

Last Sunday, I saw Avatar. It is a beautiful movie. It’s not without it’s flaws, but looked at with childish wonder, it is truly amazing. I would give everything to be able to be a part of that world for real. I’ll settle for going to see the movie again. The aliens really do have Bandit’s eyes; when it was over, I felt I had to go home and give Bandit a big kiss.

D must have negotiated some World of Warcraft time with the wife. He decided to move to the Horde side because a couple of his other friends did and they are raiding. He asked me to join the Horde side to sign his guild charter, then he didn’t need me. I created a Troll Death Knight, because I’ve never played a DK. I got through the storyline pretty quickly, then I had a Troll I didn’t know what to do with. I worked hard on my Alliance characters, my guild, and everything. It was nice to talk to them again, but ultimately, I don’t think I’m going to play her. I am going to use the Dungeon Finder tool to take my Alliance Hunter through some instance. I want to do The Nexus, the Oculus, Gundrak, and Azjol’Nerub.

I don’t know what happened today. I kind of coasted through the day. I did my Facebook apps. I played bouncy-ball with the boys. I downloaded eBooks, which I got on sale for between 45% to 66% off yesterday. I wrote a couple of emails. I did wash. I was going to cook, but one of my ingredients had gone bad and spoiled the casserole. It all went by so quickly that I didn’t even sign onto WoW.

Writing this, I am watching BBC America’s Dr. Who marathon. Sometimes I cannot help but think how much my fanatical ex-fiancé must love this show. I miss the chance to talk to him, because I don’t know anyone who watched the old shows, let alone watches this one faithfully. I was thrilled when they brought back The Master. These last few episodes have been awesome, creepy and fun. This is a show I enjoy, when I can manage to sit still.

It is almost hard to believe that it is 2010, when it seems like it wasn’t that long ago that we were worried about Y2K. I want to speak about hope and love for the future, but it feels trite and cliché. And I am not sure I believe in hope so much anymore. I’m jaded, I know. I can say that I hope the coming year is better than last year, for me and for everyone.

Dark Before Dawn

KNTconfessions — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 04:42:00 GMT

After the shock of CK’s condition and the cost of the procedure wore off, I began to feel very scared and vulnerable. There is the voice in the back of my mind that points out the risk we are taking. There is no way to predict how quickly or how well he will come through the procedure. I have a tendency to fear the worst. It is a constant struggle with myself to embrace optimism. There is a sense of guilt that I will have to inflict such pain and stress on him. There is also the promise that when he heals, he will be able to live and eat without pain for the first time since he went through his teething. This will also prevent a disease that has the potential to be deadly.

Christmas is tomorrow. I am driving to my Dad’s for some face time, then to my Aunt’s for dinner. I don’t think my Dad likes that much. However, last year, I did not see my cousins and ended up leaving their gifts with my grandmother so they would get them. I felt guilty about that. I know that he would prefer that I stay and have dinner with them. However, I did Thanksgiving with them. I managed not to start a fight with my brother, but I wasn’t very comfortable. Even though I said what I wanted and talked about what was important to me (my boys) I don’t feel that I truly fit in. It wasn’t about me, it was about the child, my niece, and quite frankly I was annoyed. Then my grandmother wanted to leave early, and as I was her ride, we left. If I spend a couple of hours with them tomorrow and leave, it’s practically the same thing.

The other thing I look forward to is telling my Aunt about CK, and showing off my little videos that I made of him. I got a really good new fetching video that should generate amazement and amusement.

I have not gotten very much emotional support regarding the decision I’ve made. When I tell people, they are shocked about the money, and usually incredulous that I would even consider it. As if a cat is not worth $3000 to save his life. But my Aunt has a young German Sheppard that had cancer. She spent a lot of money, time, and energy helping that dog; the radiation treatments, the special diet, and the untold stress and worry. If no one else can understand what I am going through, I know she will.

I asked D when we would be able to get together to exchange gifts. He had plans for every day. And on Sunday, when he didn’t have plans, he wanted to play WoW, implying that I am less important than a video game. I was heartbroken. I wanted to tell him to go spend time with his real friends, and that I would see him whenever. Today he set it for Saturday afternoon/evening. I will make sure I don’t stay long.

It’s time to break the cycle, and 2010 seems the perfect time to do that. I think the friendship between L and I has already died it’s death. I am not going to be condescended to or treated poorly by her again. The trust is gone, and being in her presence is nothing but unpleasant. C’est la vie.

During a recent conversation, D implied that when his bargained monogamy was up in January, he was going to go buck wild. I am intending to take steps to make sure that his fast is not broken with me. Step one is to shut off my cell phone. Step two is to not answer my home phone when he calls. If I cut off those avenues of conversation, he will not be able to summon me or influence me. He will need to find someone else to torment. I won’t be his tissue, to use and throw away.

I feel like I am on the edge of my future. It is darkest before the dawn. I will move forward and I will leave him behind. There is something out there for me, and I will find it.

Observations

KNTconfessions — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 04:30:00 GMT

There are a couple of things that I’ve observed during all of this. CK is lucky to have me, because I will do what needs to be done, despite the money. There are people who wouldn’t, even my own father. Not that I couldn’t do a series of incremental procedures that might cost me bit by bit instead of all at once. There is more than one alternative. I chose to get this done ASAP to mitigate his pain and stress, and to be honest, to get it over with for me too.

When I came home that day, I felt defeated. I was not supported. I was not understood. My decision was not respected. I didn’t second-guess myself, but I wondered why so many people looked at the money as if it were more important than the animal.

No, spending this money isn’t going to help my situation. It means that the debt I’ve been paying off will last longer than expected. However, it isn’t going to kill me. I am not going to starve because I can’t afford groceries. I am not going to be evicted because I can‘t pay rent. I just won’t be able to take that cruise I was planning on. I won’t be able to buy leisure items for awhile.

When I saw CK’s health and beauty otherwise, when I watched him sprint around the apartment, scramble up the cat tree, lounge on the mantle, I knew I was right.

I knew when I bought them, both CK and Bandit, that I was taking on a big responsibility. The Internet says that the average life span of a cat is 12 to 15 years, but could be as long as 21 years. All of the cats we have owned lived between 15 to 19 years. My expectations were that they would be with me a long time. I couldn’t anticipate what could go wrong, how big the vet bills could get, but I knew I’d do what I had to do. Whatever that turned out to be.

Everyone who has an animal loves them, but that doesn’t mean they would do anything for the animal. Do they know that about themselves? If they cannot make that commitment, should they have an animal at all? Is it okay that they half-ass it and destroy the animal when he/she becomes inconvenient? What if they love and care for them the best they can, and it comes to that anyway? Is it okay that they had a good life, even if it wasn’t as comfortable or long as it could have been?

CK had sisters. There were at least 2 other kittens with him, tiny black and white females. Not knowing what caused this disease, they could be facing it as well, either now or in the future. My prayers are with them, that their people are as vigilant of their care, that their vets are as perceptive, that they are loved and their people are committed to them.

There is enough suffering in the world. Animals are innocent, voiceless. They rely totally on their humans to make sure they are safe, healthy, and happy. It is a tremendous responsibility and challenge.

To me, animals are not throw-away beings. I’ve seen people treat their animals that way. I’ve read about it. My heart goes out to all of them. I wish I had the resources to save them all, but I don’t. I have to be content that the two that I have will get my best. They will be spoiled and loved. The best thing I can do for them is to never take on more than I can afford, which is why, when I desperately wanted the two black and white Siamese mix kittens, I forced myself to resist. I knew I couldn’t afford more than the two I had without short-changing them all.

Tonight, D told me that L said they would have to put their German Shepherd down soon. Because she couldn’t get back up the stairs when she let her out to pee. She has hip dysplasia. They have a plastic ramp for her, but it is steep, so it isn’t much better on her hips than the stairs. I told him I thought she needed a shallower ramp, and he made excuses about why not. I think they need to make their deck wheelchair accessible. You never know when you may need such a thing, anyway.

The anger flared in my head. I know it’s not my business, but why would you adopt a dog with the potential to have this problem when you knew you would never be willing to pay for her surgery? I read that German Shepherds live an average of 10 to 12 years, but could live as long as 15 years with good health and proper care. If I recall, their dog is about 6 years old. So, she would have had a longer, better life if someone else had adopted her? Someone who could afford hip surgery, or should I say, someone willing to shoulder the expense. It isn’t that they can’t, it’s that they won’t.

So often this past few days I’ve heard “won’t.” Not can’t. And won’t pisses me off because there are places to get help if you can’t afford vet care. I found a few non-profit organizations on the Internet. Some shelters will help you. I also found Care Credit; you can get an interest-free loan if you can pay it off in a certain amount of time. That is what I am going to do. There is nothing you can do for someone if they won’t. If feels wrong to me.

Is dead really better than to shell out a bit of money? Anyone who second-guesses that should perhaps think very hard about being a pet owner at all.

Snow Day

KNTconfessions — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 16:14:00 GMT

This is CK and Bandit's first snow. I only have a bit of balcony to share with them, but that was apparently quite the revelation in itself. The first step on this this cold wet white blanket was quite amusing. They stepped, and hesitated. But they soon got the hang of it.

The Appointment

KNTconfessions — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 04:03:00 GMT

CK had his appointment today with the vet dental specialist. I liked him. He was very nice, personable, and enthusiastic. He really seemed to enjoy his job. He found CK’s mouth fascinating, and it comforted me to see not only clinical knowledge, but almost real “joy.”

I told him that when I got CK he was 6 weeks old and very small and skinny. I asked if this disease could be triggered by poor early nutrition. He said that they don’t really know for sure. Could be the nutrition, could be not enough antibodies from his mother, or could be genetics.

He said that he was surprised that CK was so big. When he heard 8 months (he’s really 9 months, but that’s close enough) he thought it would be a little one. I never had a boy cat; although I know he’s bigger now than an of my adult females were, it didn’t really seem unusual to me. That he is outpacing Bandit, though, did surprise me, since I had looked at Bandit blunt head and bulldog body and thought he would be the bigger one. He also said that I was a good pet-owner, that I had obviously taken good care of him. It made me feel good. It’s not that I don’t know that I do whatever I can for them, but sometimes I do second-guess my own decisions. Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing enough?

He also made another observation that made me question his objectivity. He asked if CK could fetch. I was surprised that he would think that, but said yes. He figured out that if he brought it back, I would throw it again. When he first made that leap, I was so proud of him. He said that 80% of orange cats he’s treated fetch. I’ve heard a number of generalizations about orange cats, but I wouldn’t expect a vet or a vet tech to say such things. Each cat is an individual, and such traits should not be color-linked. It is an interesting line of contemplation, but I could never get any good scientific leads on it. I may put a poll on Flickr and hear what cat owners have to say about their orange cats.

He said he is seeing these cats earlier and earlier. It is a good thing, because he believes it means that vets are starting to understand the signs and recommend treatment before it comes to an extreme stage. I told him everything he was tested for, and the recommendations my main vet made. He said he did not recognize the name, but that my vet seemed on the ball. He had ruled out everything that needed to be done to eliminate the possibility that this was FS.

He looked in CK’s mouth, and that’s where his enthusiasm really showed. He pointed out and explained what was going on. CK has extra teeth, which are causing crowding and pushing his teeth out of alignment. He also had gum inflammation and some gum recession. He didn’t think the inflammation on his upper back teeth were ulcers, as my other vet thought. The fact that he is not into an ulcerative state is very good.

He said there were a couple of things we could do, but some of the teeth, at least, would have to be extracted. He agreed that CK was one of those cases that would probably become one of those extreme cases if left alone, and that extraction would be necessary. We could do it in stages, have him take out the worst teeth and clean the rest, but it is very likely that would be a waiting game of when the others would need to come out. Doing it that way would ultimately cost more than full extraction. To me, it would also cause more pain and suffering as well.

He mentioned a figure between $2,400 and $3,000. I felt light-headed with shock. I am not sure I even understand it now, hours later. I opted for full extraction, which entails keeping the fangs and front teeth, and taking out the teeth behind them. I think he’s young, he’s strong, he’s otherwise healthy. He should come through this well and heal well, God willing. We would have to remove some teeth anyway, and with the prospect of going back, and going back, and going back… I think multiple surgeries would be worse for him than to do it this way. The chance of him going into some sort of spontaneous remission seems like a childish fantasy.

I scheduled the procedure for January 7. The office is going to mail me an estimate. I have to choose which credit card to put this on.

When I got home, I called my grandmother. I wanted to vent a little, although I did not expect any emotional support from her. Obviously, the amount of money was a concern.

“Do you have the money?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “but I have credit cards.”

“Still…” she said.

But what is my choice? It has to be done. I have to do what is right for him because I love him.

One of her comments was, “I bet you wish you’d gotten a cat from the SPCA.”

I couldn’t quite wrap my head around that. I wouldn’t trade him for the world. I said, “why?”

“Because you wouldn’t be having this problem,” she said.

That wouldn’t be any guarantee. It’s not because I bought him from a pet store that caused him to get the disease. His owners could have made the decision to drop the kittens as the SPCA instead of the pet store. Since even experts don’t know what causes or triggers this, any cat at any time at any age is subject to the possibility of this disease. The only thing I didn’t get by getting him at the pet store was the free vaccinations and neutering that they would have done. Other than that, he is the same mix breed moggie that you can find in any shelter. The thought that a mix breed cat is much healthier than a pure bred is a prevalent one, and not necessarily true. Or the conviction that cats from pet stores are feeble and sickly. It is most likely CK’s genetics and his birth environment that led to the FS, not the week he spent in the pet store before I bought him.

I didn’t expect any support from D, and I knew what he would say. He’s said similar before. Faced with this big a price tag, he would put the animal down.

My answer to that was “No fucking way. That is not going to happen.”

He has a German Sheppard who has hip dysplasia. He said when she gets to the point that she needs a hip operation, he will have her put down rather than pay that much to prolong her life so little. Which is my point, I guess. CK is 9 months old, and has the potential to live 15 to 20 more years. His dog would be nearing the end of her life anyway. When my girl was 16 and would have needed test after test, messing with her medication, ad infinitum, I made the decision to let her go. The money, the pain, and the trauma it would put her through was not worth it, when she had been through so much her whole life. It was time to go quietly into that good night. But we gave it our all up to that point, and I do not regret the choice.

What happens if his daughter one day needs $3,000 of dental work? You can’t put your child down. While you cannot compare a human child to an animal, I don’t have children. I have cats. They are my priority.

A Few Thoughts

KNTconfessions — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 05:36:00 GMT

Every once in awhile, I get a desire to read the postcards on Post Secret. It always shows me that I am not the only one with secrets. Every person has an inner world, inner regrets, experiences we hide from those who love us. We are not as dissimilar as we might think.

The postcard said:
“I see couples everywhere. I always think there must be some great, universal, all-encompassing secret to coupledom. And everyone is in on it. Except me.”

Someone sent an email reply to the postcard:
“To the person who thinks couple-dom is a big secret. It isn't. Too scared to be alone, I was in a couple in some way for 16 years and I always felt like I was faking. I was jealous of my single friends who had the strength not to settle like I did.”

It resonated with me because I’ve been wondering why I’m alone. Why am I the one who broke off each of my relationships? Why are so many people together and I am alone? What did I do wrong, and what is wrong with me?

I have heard some of the jealousy the second person talks about in the voices of married people. It makes me realize that no matter how lonely I get, I really am brave. I didn’t settle. If I never have that fairy-tale love affair that books and movies promise us, at least I didn’t end up married to someone I would eventually hate.

---

I didn’t look at any of my dating profiles today. I got so disgusted yesterday. I got turned down on two of my winks, and all my fears and feelings of worthlessness welled up. You know: I’m not pretty enough, thin enough, young enough. Why am I wasting my time looking when all it will do it get me hurt? So I talked myself down. Nothing is fundamentally changed by anything I do online. I haven’t lost anything. I cannot allow any set-backs to damage my confidence and self-esteem. It doesn’t bode well that I am irritated so early in this adventure, so I put some distance between me and it. I need perspective; best not to touch it until I can gain some of that.

---

I worked on Christmas presents this week. Most of what I did was online shopping. In the past, I’ve bought something small for the women in the family. Last year it was pretty lotions I bought at Kmart. This year I decided to make scarves. The exact way I came to this decision eludes me, but it was one of those “one thing leads to another” moments. I have some nice yarn that feels very good against the skin, called Micro Spun by Lion Brand Yarn.

I was going to use just the skeins I had. I had three colors, teal, red and yellow, and a small amount of black and white.

Yesterday, I went to a store called Five Below to pick up some stocking stuffers. (It’s like a dollar store, except everything is $5 and below.) I thought I might pick up a stuffed animal for my niece. I ended up buying a bunch of stuff for me. I found some neat painted metal mesh bins that fit perfectly in my cube cabinet. I bought two blue ones and one lime green. I found a small plastic “trash can” to put Bandits foam bouncy balls in. I bought some make-up; wishful thinking for possible dates I might go on in the future. I bought some ear buds, a cute case for my Nintendo DS, and small speakers for an MP3 player which I thought I could use for my mini netbook.

I went to the fabric store next door. I only wanted to “look” at the yarn, to see what they had. I bought a few skeins, some in with sparkles and some TLC Baby. It was just enough to play with. They had Micro Spun, but I resisted.

I bought gift bags, but I realized that I didn’t have tissue paper. I went back today under the rationale that I had to get tissue and bought three more of those metal bins, I also bought a similar one in light blue that was a “locker shelf.” It has magnets on it, and I stuck it to the side of the refrigerator to give me a little more storage space.

And I bought Micro Spun in Royal Blue & Lilac. I might as well enjoy a variety of colors while I’m making these scarves.

---
I have become increasingly irritated with L. On TG, I sent a text, “Happy Thanksgiving and all my love.” She didn’t respond. I shook it off as them being too busy. When I visited, she didn’t seem to happy to see me. D said that her grandma was getting on her nerves. I don’t think that’s an excuse to be rude to a guest, but that’s just me. Today, I sent her a picture text about my bins. I know, to some that might seem like no bid deal, but it is to me or I wouldn’t have sent it. She didn’t respond. I’ve commented on her entries on Facebook, but she’s never done so on mine.

I am paranoid and hypersensitive to rejection. I know this about myself. Still, I am feeling more and more resentful. I’ve reached out, and that’s as much reaching as I’m willing to do anymore.

I almost told D yesterday that I don’t trust her. I bit my tongue. I know that would be… what… the unforgivable sin? Woman he loves, mother of his child. He would defend her. He would never be on my side. He would never understand my point of view.

I remembered how, on D’s birthday, she invited me over, then they went out to dinner without telling me. I never got a proper apology for that. I don’t think he even knows that it went down like that. I didn’t tell him, thinking I could get past it. I don’t think I ever did get past it.

She is condescending and makes me feel stupid. She’s negative. She rarely smiles. Her sense of humor tends towards mean; she’s not laughing unless someone is getting hurt or upset. I don’t sense much empathy in her. Does she feel good by tearing others down? Perhaps she was subconsciously punishing me for being someone her husband wants to fuck.

I am not cut out to be around a person like that. It is toxic for me. My fragile psyche cannot handle such an assault. It fills me with self-doubt and other bad emotions.

So why was I around her? Eh, mostly to mollify D. I know he wanted us to get along so that he could have his cake and eat it too. I am done being mentally assaulted and insulted. I won’t be spending any alone time with her anymore. I might visit to see the baby, but I am ready to acknowledge that she and I are not “friends,” and we never will be.

The Search for Mr. Right

KNTconfessions — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 18:43:00 GMT

It has only been a very short time since I posted my profiles. The G2G site is doing nothing. The pool of guys in my area is very small, so I didn’t truly expect much, did I? I will give the site credit for giving me inspiration, but I won’t expect to find my soul mate there.

Match, however, has been more productive/interesting/amusing. I had forgotten how much work a true search can be.

Cute guy with a picture of a cat. Profile total BS. He thinks he’s being funny. I don’t feel like I have even the smallest idea of who he is or what he wants at all, so I sadly pass him by. It isn’t easy to find a guy who LIKES cats!

Profile written in all caps. Despite the Internet convention that says that all caps are “YELLING,” it shows me a man who is too lazy to bother using the written language properly. He’s not even trying. Mistakes and typos are more forgivable than this. Yet, I read the profile anyway, just to be fair. He’s the non-intellectual type who wants to hunt and fish more. Yeah, I might have guessed that. (Not that there is anything wrong with that, but if you know me, you know that is so not me.)

There is the usual smattering of men who say they do not care about looks, then go on about how they want a woman to look. I already suspect that guys my age want a blond 25-year-old with fake boobs and pints of make-up tattooed on her face. (She must be gorgeous, yet not vain. She must be perfectly put together, yet not be high-maintenance.) If they would just be honest, it would save a lot of guess work.

I’ve seen an unusual amount of widowers. Wives must be dropping dead left and right in large numbers lately. Makes me a little suspicious.

There are a large number of “out-doorsy” types. That is great for them, but I wouldn’t be able to follow them on a lot of those outings. I hate bugs, but they always find me. I don’t like to be dirty and sweaty if I can help it. And my Rosacea means that beach outings would be difficult and painful for me. As much as I wish I could do more beachy things, I have to be so careful about the sun.

Good looking guy, profile pic almost too perfect to be real, wonderfully written profile. I winked at him, but I don’t expect much. He’s either “I don’t care about looks” and he does, or that picture of him is fake.

Match is tying my hands left and right because I am not a paid profile. It’s getting very annoying. One of my “daily 5” was interested, but they won’t tell me who until I subscribe. If I didn’t have to pay the 6 month premium all at once, they’d have their effing money. $119 is a little much all at once this time of the year, especially with vet bills looming large in my future.

While I was surfing other geek sites the other day, I came across a picture that skeeved me out and I downloaded it. I won’t post it, because I’m sure I’d need his permission to do so. In the least, he might be mad if he found out.

Anyway, the man is sitting on a bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black underwear. He is balding, with long dark hair, a mustache and beard. He is very hairy. He’s got a round, well-fed, hairy belly. His left leg is cocked and appears to be held open by his arm, as if he’s trying to display that which is blessedly covered by the small triangle of black fabric. There is a gun in his right hand, laying on his right thigh.

Beside this glorious hunk of hairy male flesh are two electric guitars, propped against the wall. In front of the guitars on the bed is some electronic equipment that I cannot identify, a sub-machine gun, and 5-6 different types of hand guns. The bed is either a twin or a futon, as it is rather narrow.

I was very surprised by this picture. Did he really expect to entice women with this display? In my search for Mr. Right, I found Mr. OMG!

(I've already been turned down on one of my winks. Hmm, should I put in my profile "I've been told I give the best blow job in three states?" Bet I'd get more winks then I could handle, lol.)

So the hunt begins.

Decisive Actions

KNTconfessions — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 02:24:00 GMT

I had a bad few days. I fell into the trap with Facebook that I fell into before with MySpace. I started to want what wasn’t mine. Maybe it was Holiday blues. Maybe it was just my obsessive nature, my tendency to live voyeuristically through others. Maybe it’s all those jewelry commercials on TV with their happy couples and their surprises and their enduring love. I was lonely and sad. I kept fantasizing about telling D no, when more than anything, I wanted him to have chosen me.

As I sat on the couch and cried, I asked myself, what can I do to feel better? What can I do to stop this madness? I sifted through the childish, obsessive impulses and went with the rational ones.

One thing I did was remove D & L from my Facebook feed. It isn’t like I can’t go and check on their status, but it takes a few more clicks. I’m really only on there to play those stupid games. I don’t need to read about their “perfect” lives to do that.

When I can step back, I am pretty happy with what I have. I love my apartment. I love my cats. I love living alone, although I would give that part up for the right person. I never wanted a baby. As much as I enjoy visiting their baby, I am more than happy to give her back. My vision of the family I was supposed to have didn’t include a baby, although… I probably could have been talked into one. Thank God that it didn’t happen by accident.

I found Rob on Facebook, and it messed with my head a little. I dreamed about him last night. I think I was asking myself if I want that back, at least to just feel the touch of a man again. No, I don’t want that, because it was empty, and then I was alone. I want something that means more than that.

What is missing is a man.

I had heard about a dating website for geeks. I resisted it because I didn’t think I was open. In order to have a relationship, I need to be open to it. I need to believe that everyone out there is not a user or a loser. Not every man just wants to fuck and run. I need to believe that there may actually be some nice guys who will treat me the way I deserve to be treated, not the way I seem to think I deserve.

I was sure I wasn’t going to do it. But Geek2Geek allows you to do a search in your area and read the profiles. I read some, and I felt the smile grow on my face. I felt comfortable with what they were saying. I knew that I would find compatible souls among the geeks. The one problem was… they all looked so young. It seems like older men don’t have a tendency to identify themselves as geeks. At a certain age, I guess, they’d rather be considered cool.

So, reading their profiles gave me ideas, and I wrote a profile of my own. I was able to be a part of the site for one month for $2.99. I unchecked auto-renew. I figured it was relatively risk free and if I didn’t have any luck, I could end it with little lost. I even found some relatively recent pictures that I felt were presentable and representative, and posted them.

I looked at another geek site, and I found Josh, a guy I used to see. He was a very nice guy, but not very sexually compatible with me. He was more of a submissive. He did his best, and we had some enjoyable moments, but he is the one about whom I had the thought “a Chihuahua humping a Rottweiler” one night when we were fucking. He is a little guy, about my height and a fraction of my weight.

Most of the guys on that site were very young. I looked at one picture and exclaimed, “He’s five!” So I only subscribed to the one site.

Today I did some final touches. I also bought some gift cards online, and did some surfing. I looked for more geek dating sites. I got pushed off onto Match.com, and decided, why not? If I am serious about this, why not try that again? I found Dave there, and settled far too quickly, but we were together for a couple of good years.

I usually hate writing profiles because I want to come across as someone a guy will want to date. When I wrote the Match profile, I wasn’t as concerned about that. Maybe because I had already written the Geek profile in what I thought was an extremely honest way. It was so refreshing to be able to say who I was and what I like without worrying that some jock was going to read it and laugh. I took the spirit of that and put it in the Match profile as well. I only took out a couple of things to tailor it to the audience, but it didn’t detract from what I wanted to say.

I was told once that I was an incredible woman because I liked sex and video games. I decided not to hide my love of video games, although I toned down the sex. I assume that men automatically think about sex when they look at a woman, so I could afford to save that conversation for later.

I only got the free profile for Match. The price was a little high. I decided that I would subscribe after the Holidays, hopefully in January. One thing that seems different this time is that I feel a bit more open. Strangely open, since only days ago I was totally closed. I decided to date, and even hopefully make some friends. And not take it so seriously.

While I was filling out the profile, D called. When he asked what I was doing, I told him. He said, “Mm-hmm.” I used to think that there was deep thought behind that lack of words, but he probably just doesn’t know what to say. A part of me hoped that he could see that he might be losing me soon. I already told him I would not cheat on any more boyfriends. As he is the center of the universe, I doubt he believes he could ever lose me.

Update on CK's Condition

KNTconfessions — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 04:53:00 GMT

I realized I had not posted about what happened with CK. I remember trying to write about it and just not being able to do it well. The whole subject just makes me feel tired.

The bottom line is that the dental disease, Feline Stomatitis, has progressed. During the weekend of the 7th & 8th, he started sneezing. He threw up oddly. I looked up Feline Sneezing on the Internet, and when I read that sneezing could be caused by tooth problems, I looked in his mouth. His upper back teeth looked awful, red and raw.

I took him to the vet on Monday. The possibility was put forth that it could be a virus, like Feline Herpes. I was given Viralys for him to take twice a day. His attitude is better, and he’s eating well, but when I looked at the teeth, I didn’t see improvement.

The vet gave me the number of a specialist, and I made an appointment to see him at the earliest… which is December 17th. So we wait a month and hope the good luck persists, or he at least doesn’t get worse. I promised him that he will be alright; I will take care of him. I don’t know what is going to happen, but having a course of action feels good.

Facebook

KNTconfessions — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 04:33:00 GMT

The latest thing appears to be Farmville. D was on it and tried to get me to play it. I was wary of Facebook because of what happened on MySpace. I know my tendency to get obsessed, especially with “spying” on D&L’s life. Then there was the incident with Kyle’s wife…

But since a bunch of people at work are talking about the game, I decided to play. I intend to leave a minimal footprint on Facebook. I am not on it to socialize, only to play the game. Games. I picked up Fishville as well. I always love fish games. I highly recommend Fish Tycoon.

I looked for a single player farm game that might be similar to attempt to assuage my desires. One thing about these “social” games is that they do encourage some friendly interaction. For instance, I played one of the Harvest Moon incarnations. Although I found it a bit addictive, there was little incentive to hang in with the boring and repetitive tasks. You really didn’t gain anything, and there were no “bragging rights” to your friends.

It is interesting to see what people do with their farms. D is all about efficiency, to the detraction of aesthetics. Some of my friends seek to make enough money only to beautify their properties. Each plot will show a bit of their personality.

Fishville is cute and a little more fast-paced. With a couple of simple tactics, though, I increased my coins and my levels fast! There doesn’t seem as big a need to collaborate. Which is not so bad, really. One slow, plodding collaborative game, and one faster, more solitary one keeps a person glued to Facebook.

I gave into this because I know how my interests/moods work. I will play this until I tire of it, and eventually I will quietly delete myself from Facebook.

What Do I Want?

KNTconfessions — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 04:36:00 GMT

I’ve been thinking a lot about telling D no. In writing this book, of thinking about Eladryl’s struggle between pleasure and intimacy, I keep thinking what I wish… How I want to see the intimacy in D’s eyes. How I want him to hold me. How I want to be more than just a hole for him to come in. The last time I was with him, I left feeling like trash. He threw me away. He has always thrown me away. I want so much more for my life. I don’t think I can ever rise above myself if I cannot get out from under him.

Maybe this time I can say no, because my hope is gone. I think it finally died the day he told me they had the fight about the key logger and he gave her a free pass because of the baby. He made his choice. He did not choose me. I’ve always had some sort of hope that he would see me. That he would love me. But maybe what actually broke the camels back was when he said she found the text message. He has absolutely no consideration for anyone but himself. He wants an open marriage, and he married someone who does not. I am tired of being in the middle of this.

I don’t feel sexy lately, but that is not all of it. I don’t want to keep doing something I get nothing out of. I am wasting my time and my effort, only to drive home alone, crying and feeling like trash. I gave up all the others. I am more than willing to be celibate for awhile. Someone probably said they’d rather have bad sex than no sex at all. I’d rather masturbate; at least I am sure to have an orgasm and I know the vibrator won’t bite me. No, it won’t cuddle me or kiss me, but then neither does the bastard I’ve been fucking. At least I feel good and I can put it in a drawer.

What do I want? What I thought I wanted is irrelevant now, impossible. So what I need is for this to stop.

Avatar

KNTconfessions — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 04:27:00 GMT

I saw the movie trailer for James Cameron’s Avatar yesterday. I was moved to tears. It touched something inside me that was full of childish wonder. The first time I saw the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park, I felt the same way. I was finally able to see something I’ve always wanted to see.

When I first saw the aliens, I felt like I was finally seeing something that I’d always known, always wanted. There is something so familiar about them. Like I’ve met them or been them a thousand times in my head. How could you kill something so beautiful?

I went to the official website and re-watched the trailer two more times. Then I looked through the picture gallery. I new that the aliens were blue and richly detailed. They have bright yellow eyes that seem very luminous and real. What I was able to see in a still that I could not recognize in the trailer is that their features scream “cat.” It was when I saw the picture of him yelling, when I saw his pointed teeth, and his flat nose, wrinkling in just such away. The eyes remind me of Bandit’s eyes, big and round and showing just a bit of white. The wrinkle in the nose reminded me of one of CK’s expressions. The ears reminded me of a mix between animal and elf. How could I not love blue elf-cat people?

Their world is gorgeous. When I saw the floating islands, I thought of Nagrand in World of Warcraft. It looked so amazing. I want to go there.

I went to a forum and read some opinions. Some people said that the plot looked cliché and derivative. It led to discussions about originality. Nothing is original; the key is in the presentation. What I would point out is that originality is wonderful, but you can’t be too original if you want to be commercial. I was so dazzled by the alien world that I didn’t pay too much attention to the plot. Would I want the plot to also be as dazzling and innovative, or would it distract from the beauty?

A friend of mine pointed out that they named the world Pandora. Yeah, not original, but would we really name it something original? I asked him what he would name it, and he said something different and alien. Humans would not use an alien’s name for a planet. We are egocentric enough that we would name it something comfortable to us. Besides, humans were fighting them, not negotiating with them.

He mentioned a couple of video games it reminded him of. I agree. It has a feel of a video game come to life for me. I read criticisms where people say that, and defenders jump down their throats about it. I mean it in a complimentary way. This is what we would want and wish for when we played, such beauty and such realism.

One of the other opinions on the forum is that this might not be successful because people will have a hard time identifying with synthetic actors. The example is Beowulf and Final Fantasy. There is a tendency that the closer they are to photo-realistic humans, they greater the tendency to focus on the discrepancies rather than celebrate the achievement. I have to admit that the actors in Beowulf were creepy to me because the realism kept breaking. They were people, but not quite right. I read an article that talked about detecting the difference between something that was alive and something that was not. I understood that, because we instinctually will look for danger, and something that is alive is much more immediate and potentially dangerous than something that is not.

All is not lost, however. Cartoons are representations of people that we do not expect to be real. I believe that there is the “one step away” that is acceptable. It is when the realism get’s too close that we will have a hard time. My example for that is Final Fantasy: Advents Children. I thought that was simply gorgeous. My eye never believed that these were real, so I was able to enjoy the touches that were done to make them seem more real, like the movement of their hair

I believe the choice of making the animated actors so alien is perfect. We won‘t expect human-quality realness, and those moments that pull us out of the action will, hopefully, not be as disruptive.

Someone on the forum said he’d been waiting for this movie since 1999. I am glad I only found out recently. I would hate to have been in such suspense for so long! This could end up being one of my favorite movies. I hope I don’t assign as much potential to it as I did to Spore and end up very disappointed.

I find that I truly enjoy reading forums. I enjoy reading opinions of new articles, or reviews of products, and the forums associated with them. People are funny. It often amazes me that the Internet breeds trolls. Anonymity can bring out the worst in people. I know that I am a little bolder (I.e. the blog) but I am basically who I am no matter what. If I post something it’s because I feel I have something to contribute. I don’t argue with people who are obviously saying things simply to get a reaction.

I am not sure I understand why they must be so ugly and confrontational. I think it’s much nicer to be nice.

Adventures in Babysitting

KNTconfessions — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 03:06:00 GMT

I babysat for D’s & L’s daughter on Saturday. She was very good. She ate a couple of times, played a little, but mostly slept. I watched her from 10 to 7. At the end of the day, I was exhausted. Even when she wasn’t awake, I was so attentive. I was alert to every twitch or whimper.

When L brought her over, we set up the furniture. She had a little mini gym mat for her, one of those things with little bars and toys hanging from it. CK didn’t want anything to do with L or the baby, but Bandit was curious. Bandit sniffed all over that mat, which probably smelled like dog. He lay down on it, looking all comfy. He sat under one of those flowers with a mirror in it. He looked up, and saw himself, and freaked out! He jumped up and ran out of the room! It was quite comical. He came back later and batted at the toys.

While I was sitting at the computer and K was in her swing, CK came to me and wanted attention. He seemed to need reassurance. “No, sweet boy, she’s not my new pet. You’re still my baby.”

Later, when K was awake, I put her on the mat. She didn’t really care about the toys. She kept looking at the TV. I was watching Snakes on a Plane. Bandit came over to see her. He sniffed her head, then kind of crinkled his nose. He sat down, and he poked her in the head. He can be very gentle. He poked her the way he used to poke me in the nose; he didn’t use his claws. I didn’t encourage him to poke her, but he poked her two more times. He looked very curious about what she was. If she was mine, I’d have given him a little more leeway to see what he would do. I can’t imagine he would hurt her. But if he scratched her, I would feel awful, so I discouraged him.

I had to put her back in the swing because I had her in the boppy and she started to cry. When I put her in the swing she wailed a bit, but she calmed down quickly. I knew they didn’t want her to sleep that much, but I didn’t know what else to do.

I had a moment watching her in the swing when I choked up, got tears in my eyes. I thought that I loved her. Bastard, giving me his baby so I love her. I figured it was another way to trap me.

I called D when he was on his way home. He wanted to go get a beer, but he said he thought he should come get her. I said, “She’s good and quiet, but I would appreciate that.” He could drink a beer when he got home.

I got a text around 1:30 from L asking how long K slept at my place because she couldn’t get her down. Ah, ha. Everything is a criticism. I am not tormenting that child to keep her awake so they could get a full night sleep. I am not letting her get overtired and fussy here, so I can deal with a wailing cranky baby. She’s not my baby. I gave them back a fed, healthy, safe baby. Deal with it, bitch. Or find someone else to watch her.

I looked it up on the Internet and I felt kind of justified. She is not yet two months old. She needs a lot of sleep. A friend at work said that if they were depriving her of sleep, that was wrong. She said, “Do they want her to be stupid?” They are, why shouldn’t she be?

Cruising

KNTconfessions — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:38:00 GMT

A friend of mine went on a cruise, and she is planning another one next year. A thought got into my head that it sounded like fun. I never go anywhere and I never do anything. How fun would it be to sit on deck with my mini and dedicate myself to writing. I could see it. It excited me. It wouldn’t happen tomorrow, so I have time to plan it.

I found a writer’s cruise in April going to the Mexican Riviera. I want to take a closer look at what is being offered. Maybe I would be interested in that. I think maybe I am more interested in the Caribbean. I don’t have to be amongst writers to work on my own writing. I would also be able to do excursions and see things I have never seen before. I won’t be sunning on the beach or swimming or scuba diving, but can still have fun.

One of my regrets is that I have to be so careful about the sun. I can’t do some of the things other people take for granted. I can’t get too hot for extended periods of time, I can’t be in the sun without lots of sunscreen, and sunscreen stings me. I typically forgo outside activities because of that. If I am careful, I can still enjoy myself.

Cruises have lots of indoor areas. I can also probably find shady areas where I can hang out, people watch, and write. They have Internet cafés and Internet hotspots. (I go off on tangents and like to do research while I’m writing.) I can wear sunscreen when I am motivated. I know I will pay for it, but sometimes it is worth the pain. I loved Gatorland; it was worth the pain.

There are things to consider. I still don’t know the prognosis on CK. He could end up being another high-maintenance animal. If his teeth must be pulled, that will cost me a lot of money. I started a “Vet Bills” savings account as insurance, but I only have $300. I didn’t think he’d get sick so young; he is only about 8 months old.

Ever since the vet visit, I’ve been watching CK like a hawk. I am wary of any behavior changes. When he wouldn’t finish his food, I was afraid his gums hurt. I mixed warm water in his food and made it soupy. I called him over and he finished it. Tonight, he tried to eat my Rice Crispies bar, so I got him more food, made it warm and soupy. He ate most of it. Bandit came in later and scarfed up the rest.

Something in the vet’s tone made me think he thought CK might be underweight. He’s thin but solid. I don’t think he’s underweight. I was probably being paranoid. But part of me wondered… if he keeps trying to jump my food, maybe he isn’t getting enough of his own food. I figure he doesn’t like the dry food as much as Bandit because it hurts his gums. Previously, I just thought it was preference.

He likes to do what most cats do. He eats, and takes a break. He wants to go back later, but the wet food dries out and becomes too icky to eat. I worry about spoiling him, because I can’t be here to feed him 4 to 5 times a day. But maybe once he stops growing, he won’t need to eat so much.

I saw the two cats side-by-side, and CK is definitely taller and longer than Bandit. Bandit is a compact, strong boy with wide round eyes. He has an angel face. I wish he was more lovey. I make sure I pick him up every day at least once a day. I think picking cats up is an important component in reinforcing trust.

Looking at the two of them, I wonder if I would really want to leave them for a week. If they were well and I could get someone to look after them so that I didn’t worry, it might be nice to be somewhere else for awhile. Be someone else. I would miss them, the purrs and the snuggles. But if I can step outside my little box for awhile, I think I could benefit from the experience. I would end up going through kitten withdrawal.

At this point, I am looking at doing the cruise alone. It would be nice to have company, but that isn’t really an option right now. In the past I wouldn’t have considered doing this alone. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand; I can do this and make it what I want it to be. I just need to do some research and planning, and break it into steps.

Lunch Box Trauma

KNTconfessions — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:36:00 GMT

When I get home from work, I put my soft lunch box on the back of the loveseat. I tend to put it away later and put the cold pack away. I try to do that before I go to bed.

I can’t stop CK from scratching the love seat. I don’t encourage him and I push him away when he does. He is just one of those cats who scratches everything. And I do mean everything. I put an afghan over the loveseat thinking it might hamper him, but he just scratches the blanket too.

Last night, CK stretched up and scratched on the afghan, and my lunch box fell on him. Bandit was nearby. The two of them must have felt like they were being attacked! They tore around the corner, into the kitchen, hit the pantry door probably because they skidded on the rug. CK continued into the bedroom but Bandit stopped at the edge of the intersection to the hallway from the kitchen. His tail was bottle-brush bushy and he looked terrified.

I talked softly to him and kicked the lunchbox, trying to show him it was harmless. He jumped like it was going to run after him. It was the funniest thing. I was going to leave it there so they could come back and investigate it, but instead I just picked it up and put it away. They both hid in the bedroom for a little while, but they wandered back later, none the worse for the fright.

It must have been cold last night, because I woke up sandwiched between the two cats. It felt nice. They don’t typically sleep on the bed with me, but I am okay if they do. They usually just visit me for cuddles and nuzzles when they think I am awake. I keep hoping that Bandit will outgrow kneading on bare skin. It seems that no matter how often I cut his nails, it hurts. I had a blanket between us one night and he kneaded that. I was able to tolerate that for much longer.

Last weekend, I didn’t leave the apt. It was cold and wet and I figured I could skip shopping. I spent a lot of time with the boys. I love observing their behavior. I sat and played WoW, but when I looked over at them, CK opened his eyes. Bandit was sitting on the back of the couch and CK was sitting on the seat of the couch. I went to CK, petted him, talked to him, and petted Bandit too. I went back to my computer. When I turned back, Bandit had jumped down on CK and was trying to lick his head. CK was biting and pushing back. It was all very quiet. A silent struggle. I found the silence amusing. If they had been dogs, there would probably have been barking and whining.

Sometimes I wonder what they think of each other. Bandit is usually the more aloof and solitary of the two, but he does seem to enjoy romping. He likes the chasing and the wrestling, but he doesn’t like to cuddle with CK. When CK was little, he seemed like he wanted to snuggle with Bandit. When he tried, Bandit would leave. He doesn’t try anymore. I figure he gets his love from me, so he’s accepted Bandit’s emotional distance.

Bandit does seem more distant overall. He doesn’t purr as much. I’ve sometimes petted him, trying to get him to purr, and he won’t. He’ll only purr at certain moments, like when he greets me after a day of work, or when he kneads me at night. Sometimes I wonder if that means he is not happy. I accept that it is just his personality. CK purrs very easily. He sometimes purrs when I just look at him or talk to him. He seems happy all the time.

There have been moments when I wondered about the road not taken. What if I had gotten Bandit and his brother? What if I had gotten CK and his sister?

I came up for a name for the little black and white female kitten I didn’t get. Haiku. I thought that would be adorable. Haiku is a form of Japanese poetry, which is not related to Siam, which is what Thailand was called until 1939. (She seems to be part Siamese.) Still, I would not have to name her authentically. After all, Bandit is named after WoW, and CK means “creepy kitty.” Haiku would be acceptably exotic to fit my little girl, if she was mine.

Happy Hallow’s End

KNTconfessions — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:34:00 GMT

Happy Hallow’s End

I enjoy the Hallow’s End event in World of Warcraft. Halloween was always more fun to me than many other Holidays, so I am enjoying the achievements, the quests, and the decorations. Everywhere you go, there are pumpkins!

I did almost everything I could do on my own toons. I asked D if he wanted me to run his toons around and get what I could with them. He hasn’t been able to play for a long time. I got lucky on the weekend when he was able to run me through Deadmines. I want to go through the Stockades, Gnomergan, and Blackfathom Deeps, but it is doubtful he will have time.

Usually, I balk at doing anything for him in WoW. I even tried to look at this from different angles to make sure I was getting something out of it. Last night I ran his 74 Dwarf Hunter around to the Inns to get the candy to complete the 4 achievements for him. I did the Orphan Matron quests in Goldshire, and picked up the Headless Horseman quest for him. I went to Southshore and did the two quests there, one of which was an inordinate amount of very boring running. I got him two flight points in Kalimdor that he didn’t have.

When I did the Southshore quests on my 80 hunter, I also stuck around and killed Horde so I could get the G.N.E.R.D. Rage achievement. They apparently had quests to throw stink bombs and do something in the Inn. The guards saw them very quickly. If they did anything that turned them PvP, there were bunches of Alliance who helped the guards slaughter them. When I first arrived to get my candy, I saw the skeletons littering the lawns and the Inn. I stuck around to see why. I got the gist, but I had other things to accomplish so I left. I came back later to join the “defense.”

I felt a little guilty for the joy I took in it. I have a problem where I get a little addicted to PvP. There truly is something different about pwning a player vs. fighting the computer. Even though this was akin to shooting fish in a barrel, I still had fun. I liked it because I had back up. In most PvP venues, even though you win more if you work as a team, most people seem to have a hard time with that concept. Because the Horde were coming in singly or in pairs, there were many people focusing on the few. I could set my silithid on someone, and she would web them; in those few seconds where the enemy could not move, the rest were upon him. I did get a couple of solo kills, and I did entirely miss some kills, but often I felt like I was an important to component to the meager victories.

What I found interesting was that there were certain Horde names I saw over and over. It’s like they kept coming back to see if they could do better. Or maybe they came back looking for revenge. I am not the only one who gets bitten by the PvP bug.

I didn’t do the G.N.E.R.D. Rage achievement for him. If he wants to get any of the combat-based achievements he’ll have to do it himself. First of all, his bars were all jacked up. We have different logic to which icons to display and where to put them. I’d have a hard time fighting with his setup. Second, I wouldn’t feel comfortable depleting his bullets or using his resources. Even if he wanted me to, I wouldn’t. I am more comfortable fighting with my own toon.

I don’t entirely understand why he wanted me to do his achievements for him. I think that the fun of the game is in the experience. I love watching the little announcement pop up telling me I accomplished the achievement. He is essentially getting something for nothing, which he likes. I am getting to do the achievements again and pick up flight points, which I like. I thought about finishing the exploration for him, but that would take too long. I hoped to finish his main last night, and I would have, except my Internet went out around 12:15. I was too tired to fight Comcast, and I had taken my melatonin, so I went to bed. This morning it was back up, but of course WoW was down for maintenance.

I thought about trying to “dual box” using two different launches of WoW on my computer. I tried it, and it would probably work. I wanted to get additional flight points for my rogue. I decided I didn’t want to put forth the effort, so I aborted. It did seem like my computer would be able to handle it though. Maybe one night when I’m feeling more ambitious I’ll try it. Or I might just run her alone. There is something exciting about running a lowbie through zones that are a little too high for her to get the flight points. I remember running a level 14 through the Wetlands, my heart in my throat, and loving it.

I wanted to take my level 30 into Azshara to go fishing. Naga who don’t even agro on my level 80 ran in and killed my 30 as soon as I veered off the road. I didn’t really think that it would work, but it was worth a try.

CK's Plight

KNTconfessions — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 04:07:00 GMT

I took CK to the vet on Saturday. I got him a distemper booster and a bartonella retest. I had the Dr look in his mouth and he found a lesion. He said CK could be allergic to his teeth. (The clinical term is Feline Stomatitis.) It is a progressive disease that would eventually require his teeth to be removed.

I learned a lot about FS today and it freaked me out. The first treatment would be to administer steroids. But from what I've read, that merely supresses the symptoms without addressing the underlying pathology. I find myself wondering why someone would do that. The disease is painful to the animal, progressing to lesions on the gums and throat that might make it too painful for the animal to eat. If the diagnosis becomes certain, why would you wait until quality of life is shattered before eliminating the cause?
Now, I don't want to pull his teeth. I find myself praying that he has bartonella so I can put him on antibiotics that have a high chance of curing this. But if it came down to that -- if I was told that nothing is going to stop this -- then why not have the offending teeth pulled now? He is young and strong. He would heal quicker. The degree of pathology is currently low, so removal would prevent additional deterioration.

The problem with delaying tactics, in my opinion, is that you risk the quality of life for the individual while you wait. Vet visits are stressful. Medication is unpleasant to administer, and may cause severe side effects of its own. (The suppressive treatment is steroids to decrease inflammation.) If suppression doesn't work, the animal is in pain and potentially unable to eat. They may also become depressed or aggressive. (Imagine you're starving, but you go to eat something and it hurts too much to chew. That is what this disease does.)

So far, CK is just a doll baby. He is sweet and happy. He eats well. I would not have known by his behavior that anything was wrong. I originally thought his inflammation was due to teething, but he is over teething now. It upsets me that he could be in pain and masking it. He may have a high pain tolerance, but I don't like the thought that he hurts at all.

I educated myself on this issue because, if a train is going to derail in a month, I want to fix the track now. If I have to get his teeth removed, I will need to take him to a specialist, and that is $$. Going out of my way, spending lots of money, submitting to tons of stress and hassle. I want to have an idea of what that might be before it happens.

D, of course, said to put him down. That, my dears, is out of the question. CK is the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I can't wait to go home at night. He is my smile in the middle of the day.

In a way, this all kind of makes sense. I knew from the moment I got him that if I was going to have problems, it would be with him. I also think that of the two he would be able to handle this best. He has a spirit that is hard to define. He has such joy in being alive. He seems to put all of himself into whatever he does. If a closet is open, his nose is there. (He is learning that "nose out" means "I'm going to squish you in a door.") There is always something new to do, a toy to chase, food to beg, something to climb or sratch or explore. I expect that one day I will find him on top of my highest bookshelf.

I realize that I am the queen of the food and both of them worship me for it, but I truly feel like CK loves me. He comes to me for pets and cuddles, and he puts all his purrs and love into that. He'll fall against me dramatically, as if to say, "I can't get enough of you." When he looks at me, he purrs so hard his chest hitches. (I used to worry about that when he was younger, but he doesn't wheeze or seem in distress. When he stops purring his breathing is normal.) Anywhere I am, I can turn and he is probably nearby. When he's not asleep or madly wrestling with Bandit, he's watching me.

It saddens me to think that at 8 months old, I may already be looking at CK's death. Or maybe I am the right person; we were brought together for a reason. Maybe he'll defy odds that always seemed stacked against him. Maybe he'll live to be 20 years old, laying on my lap and purring toothlessly.

Stupid Cheater

KNTconfessions — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 03:46:00 GMT

D called me today and said L was ok with me babysitting. But she also read my text message and found out that I had paid him a visit yesterday. She was mad, but “she’s cool with it now.”

“I thought you erased those messages,” I said.

“I do,” he said, “but I forgot.”

“It was just a blow job,” he said, “just a blow job.” But he had told her he wouldn’t see anyone until January. For a cheater, he is so stupid. He always gets caught.

“I don’t like being in the middle of this,” I said. “This is your fault. I just did what you told me to. I don’t know why I do it, but I do.”

I must have sounded pretty upset, because he said, “I gotta go, I’ll call you back,” and he didn’t call me back. Nothing can be his fault. He can never be to blame. His wife was pissed, and now I was upset. He just couldn’t handle it.

I don’t like coming between them like that. Maybe I have too much empathy. I know she hates how he is. I know he didn’t deceive her about what he wanted, so in a way, she agreed to something she cannot accept. I know she thought things would change. Not to mention how it makes me feel and what it does to me. Neither one of them ever stops to consider that part.

These past two times, I wasn’t even wet. I went through the motions. I didn’t enjoy it and I got nothing out of it. It was a chore for me. Yesterday, I went feeling like an idiot and left feeling like trash. He’s going to have to find someone else. I don’t like this.

My co-worker, who doesn’t like D anyway, heard about the babysitting. She was incensed for me. She has some good points. I suspect he thinks he’s going to get free babysitting from me. She said I better get paid.

Her points were that I only have my weekends, so they would be taking one of my days away from me. I don’t have a baby, nor have I had a baby, so my lifestyle is built around other things, not around babies. She said it truly was an imposition. It wasn’t like they were asking me to watch her for a couple of hours while they went to the movies, but most of the day, maybe every other weekend. She said he should pay for a babysitter and not expect me to watch his spawn. I laughed because I had tried not to think of her that way. It’s not her fault. I will try, but if I can’t handle it, I’ll just tell them that I can’t handle it.

I think I might owe my ISP an apology. I had low internet speed and lag since Friday. It has happened before, so I assumed that maybe people were home for the weekend and causing the lag. I sent an email. What I got back irritated me. They always blame the user! I couldn’t read it that day because I was irritated.

Tonight, yes, I was irritated. I had a rough day. We were busy at work and I got some expectations of me that I felt were unwarranted. If you don’t understand my job, don’t dictate to me what you think I should be doing. Everyone wants someone else to do their job for them. I just wanted to say, “Leave me alone!”

So, I decided I would go through the email and try to figure out if there was anything I could do on my end to eliminate the lag, or prove that the lag was their fault. Some of what they send me didn’t apply. My problem wasn’t the browser, but the application. The lag was so bad that I couldn’t play WoW. I couldn’t fish successfully let alone fight. I tried to fight, and I got killed 5 times in half an hour.

I shut off some of the background apps. Afterwards, I got a cleaner speedtest. I went in and tried to run around Dalaran, and I got disconnected 4 times. I wanted to scream. I exited the application and looked at more things. At the bottom of the email, it said to make sure your computer was hooked directly to the cable. Thinking, “yeah, right,” I disconnected my wireless modem and connected the Ethernet cable directly to the computer again.

The heavens opened and the angels sang!

No, not really, but the speedtest improved dramatically. I went back into WoW, and the red lag was replaced with nice green numbers. I could run around with no hesitation. I finished my daily cooking quest without getting disconnected. I signed in with my rogue, wondering how long my luck would last. It was awesome; I got her half-way to 28 by killing orcs in Ashenvale. Sadly, there must be something wrong with my wireless router or the cable. I am going to get a replacement Ethernet cable and see if that helps. I’ve had such bad luck with this router.

The one good thing about the lag was that I wrote and researched this weekend instead of focusing on leveling my rogue. I made progress when otherwise I might not have. Besides writing this, I just wanted to chill out tonight.

Babysit

KNTconfessions — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 03:06:00 GMT

I spent some time with L on Sunday. I watched the baby while she did things. She was grateful to be able to get things done. I gave her my recipe and she cooked while I rocked the fussy baby. I came up with a new exercise: swivel from hip to hip with a ten-pound weight on your chest.

She is such a sweety. She is starting to be able to focus and make expressions. It was fun. It will be more fun when she starts to play with things.

L went back to work today. She looked sad about that yesterday, said she would miss the baby. But she also thought it would be a good opportunity for D to see what she did all day. He was apparently criticizing her for not getting enough done around the house. She should get used to it; he’s always done that and he always will.

He called me around 10:30 am today to come over and “get some penis” while the baby was napping. Once again, I did as he asked. Once again, there was nothing in it for me. He came in my mouth. Of course, then the baby woke up and demanded everyone’s attention. I kissed him and left.

This evening, he called to say that this schedule they had planned, where L would work only when D was off, was not going to work. Her job demanded that she work at least one day each weekend, a Saturday or Sunday. He asked if I would watch the baby.

I thought about it. Yeah, I would do it.

He said that I could watch her at their place, or they could bring her here. It would be easier to watch her there, but more convenient if they brought her here. He said he could bring the pack-and-play. I think that is the best bet, because to be honest, I don’t want to be babysitting the grandmother and the two big German Shepherds too. I am a little nervous about the cats, but they’ll deal.

D said the woman up the street in their neighborhood does professional daycare. They thought of asking her, but she may not do weekends and “newborn prices” are always high. Ah, looking for free daycare? He offered to pay me, but I said he didn’t owe me anything. We’ll work it out later. Strangely, being trusted with someone’s child, no matter how mercenary the reason, feels good. I kind of excited to see if I can do it.

More Work Than I Thought

KNTconfessions — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 02:10:00 GMT

Reality: the place where “I will,” turns into “what do I do now?”

I want to write a book. I have an idea that seemed to be, quite frankly, sabotaged from the beginning. It was based on a dream. I lost all the notes about the plot and characters. I labored under the thought that there was something missing, that I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen.

The last straw was when I needed to create a conflict for my main character. I decided that she would not like sex, so that when she experienced the alien-induced incident of sexual abandonment, she would have more to deal with than just embarrassment. I needed a reason for her to dislike sex that was not rape and was not sexual dysfunction. Rape is taboo in romantic fiction, and if used in any genre must be given adequate respect to be realistic. Mostly women read romance, and they do it for escapist reasons. Women don’t like rape, and anyone who has been raped knows that there is some heavy emotional issues to traverse. This fiction I wanted to create wouldn’t be the venue for that type of exploration. As for sexual dysfunction, that would make her sexual experience tantamount to a miracle; how corny.

I created a reason, I wrote out the scene, and I was very unhappy with it. It was a bad reason, not personal enough, and it didn’t ring true. I felt both a sense of paralysis and a sense of boredom. I did some research and I couldn’t figure it out; I suspected that I made a character so unlike myself that I just could not relate. I related more to her rival, the sexually free, innuendo-spewing attention-whore.

Why would someone NOT like sex? Especially someone young, beautiful, and healthy? Unfathomable.

But that wasn’t the only thing I had to do. I wanted to give the main romantic interest a secret of his own. Woe is me, how would I ever understand MALE motivation?

This book-writing crap is more work that I thought…

So I dug out the fanfic sex fantasy I wrote about World of Warcraft. Nice. Great tone, a little funny, and the sex was damn hot. The one problem was that I had to remove anything that was blatantly WoW, because it is copyrighted and part of a popular franchise. I went through it and highlighted in red anything that was derived from WoW. In some cases, I just had to replace certain words. In other places, I highlighted concepts that would need to change as the words were changed.

I have the whole Troll theme going on; to alter that would alter the sex scenes and change some of her motivation. I would also have to get rid of some really amusing comparisons, which I am loath to do.

What drew me back to this story was that it has a very personal message. It deals with anger, lust, and the heroine using people to get what she wants. She is damaged, so she brings damage down on the whole world. If I were to break this up into three parts, the first part would be about the lust and the anger. “The weak feel pain. The weak get used or they get killed. I am strong, and so I use them and I kill them.”

Part two will be about her discovering who she is, why she is, and that there are alternatives to beliefs she has long held and practiced. She will learn that it is possible to love and be loved.

Part three will be about her going home. She will face the choice: to stay in the life she has always known, or return to the life she has recently discovered. I have to make this a conflict that can go either way.

I feel like I understand this conflict better, and I am very attracted to the people and the setting. When I was young, I used to fantasize about waking up in an Elvin village surrounded by regal beautiful noble people. I also like sex, and I want to be able to deal with it frankly and explicitly. Erotica, so I’m told, is a story that could not be told if the sex was removed. The sex is an integral motivation or conflict or goal. I don’t know much about the erotica market, but I know that when I write, I find it difficult to leave out sex and/or sexual motivations. I know that if you give me a rule, I want to break it. I get the impression that erotica can cross many genres and still be marketable. Apparently, this genre is becoming more mainstream. A successful writer in the genre was offered a 1 million dollar advance. It makes me go cross-eyed to think of it.

I am not embarrassed by sex. I would not be morally opposed to telling people I wrote erotica, even if they thought I wrote porn. I might be a little hesitant to tell my family, but in the end, if they disapproved or had a problem with it, that would be their problem, not mine.

I chose this genre because I’ve always had a fascination with non-humans. That took the shape of alien, or fairy/elf, or vampire in my youth. I’ve probably spent so much time in my life wishing I was anything but human. I think setting my characters aside from humanity, despite that they actually are people, will make me more comfortable writing them.

From a few scenes, I have to create a book. I made an outline, and once again, I figured out what scenes I needed. I have written 5,629 words. It seems like such a pitiful few when a book is about 60,000 words!

Writer’s block is about not knowing where to begin or being afraid of messing up. The trick is to just do it. We want to be so perfect that we don’t write anything at all. Even knowing that I can fix it later doesn’t make me feel better, because the possibilities are so fluid that they are overwhelming. I can literally do anything. It’s exciting, but also scary. If I can do anything, what should I do? Thoughts like that can really stifle creativity.

Description

KNTconfessions — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 02:08:00 GMT

I haven't written anything to do with my novel since last week. I have been paralyzed by what I considered a weak concept. Last night, I wanted to write something, and my eyes lit upon a poster I had on my wall. I decided to describe the subject as clearly and colorfully as I could so that the reader might see what I saw. Below is the result:

The shape rose from the golden water, appearing carved of ebony, splashed with scarlet. The body was serpentine and winged, corded with muscle. The arms terminated with vicious four-fingered paws tipped with dagger claws. Small proto-wings attached the arm to the sinuous body. The legs were hidden by the expanse of huge primary wings, scarlet striped with black. The red armored chest rose to a thick corded neck, the underside of which was paved in red scales. The head dipped to black horned face with small sulfurous eyes glowing beneath a crest of ruby spines. The crest began at the crown of its head and paraded menacingly down its back. The mouth was a beak of multiple points encased in red dexterous lips that opened to emit a fearless shriek. The creature was monstrous black dragon.