My Beloved Rattie

This past Tuesday my heart was broken. I went downstairs to feed the little rattie beasties, and my Christopher did not come up to greet me. I prayed that his hearing had deteriorated further, and he just hadn't heard me. Sadly, I found him curled up in his purple house, no longer in this world.

He was still warm and soft. His eyes were still glistening black. Thank G_d I found him this way. I've been thanking G_d everyday. My precious critter was gone, my highest hopes for his death were realized. He died a healthy, old rat, presumably in his sleep, and I got to hold him soon thereafter. My only regret is that I hadn't really played with him in the past couple of days. Of course I loved on him, but not "this is your half-hour with Mom."

Some may say it's silly to love such a pet. He was only a rat. However, he was so much more to me. I'd never had a companion that showed so much love and patience. He was playful and smart. He was gentle and so loving. He let me kiss him like crazy and scruff up his little bit of fur (he was almost bald).

For nearly three years I got to enjoy his precious self, and for that I am truly grateful. I can only hope and pray that he knew, in his little rattie brain, how much I adored him.

You meant so much to me, Christopher. May you rest peacefully knowing that you were such a joy. B'shalom, little beast.

Poetry

I've been writing poetry since I was in the forth grade. I hope you like some of these.

On Love - written in 2004

Pen in hand
a bitter love note
written with the scratching
sound of angry
unsaid
unfelt
insults
one final stab
the last say
you had it coming
or rather
you deserved it
mouthing the words
one corner of my lip
bitten
Clean sheet of paper
silence
"I'm sorry."

On Coffee Houses - written in 2007

Metallic sculptures
hard lines
consummate angles
Friendly conversation
little glimpses
into unknown lives
beautiful faces
shining eyes
troubled smile lines
big soft chairs to cushion
you
like arms
the ones that don't hold you
Happy music
for sad people

On Aging (Le Sigh) - written in 2005

I'm filling out
getting rounder
older
wiser
the days are getting
shorter, colder
the winters are harsh
the summers hotter
I don't understand
Kids these days
I'm out of style
out of touch
your touch
Bacchus help me
I'm not so pretty
anymore.

Into the Dark - written in 2003

Always remember
to close the door -
behind you
Lest the memories
escape
to claim your life
And all the while
laughing
at your stupidity

A small smattering. Perhaps I will keep it coming; I have tons and tons of stuff.

Lovely Lazyness

I had a wonderful weekend despite the upstairs toilet dying a sad, leaky death. Of course, being utterly neurotic, I lost an entire night's sleep worrying about it. It's a toilet! Really, it's no big deal. But huge quantities or water and vast sums of money. Oy.

Speaking of neurotic - I had to laugh at myself. Here I am, dropping a perfectly successful teaching career to go traipsing off to medical school, converting to Judaism (two weeks left to go), and thinking, "Hey, I should totally go vegan!" Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's true, I am strange, bold, and never idle (unless the couch phenomenon gets me). For those not privy to the couch phenomenon - that's when you sit down on the couch with a cup of perfect coffee and get to thinking or watching the birds or pondering one's unbelievably strange neighbors. We have one set of neighbors that only allows their children to play between the garage and back of the house. That's approximately 15 square feet in which to roam! They even have a plastic fence to keep them back there. Yes, they are of the extremely conservative sect. They don't want their dim-witted, obese, blond, screaming brats to interact with the heathen black kids next door. The heathen black kids come from a nice Christian family. However, they are black, and that's bad. I heard Mr. "I'm a super-good Christian" curse loudly when the black family moved in. Really Sir, you're gunna be all right.

So I called in sick to work today. I do have a sore throat. I am tired; I didn't sleep. I think some bike riding and coffee drinking should do the trick. Perhaps I will sit my rear down and really study Hebrew. I seem to moonlight with it. I love the language, but it's so difficult that I get frustrated. Anyone who thinks it appropriate to point out that medical school is pretty tough will be ignored. I reserve the right to roll my eyes at you. I guess I do best with a drill master, or at least a curriculum that won't allow me to whine and then go off-course, usually with a coffee and sketch book in hand. I need external discipline. Alas, I am not focused enough on my own. This saddens me. "Five times a day, with bricks."

I have a feeling that something delicious is about to be made in my kitchen! Shalom y'all.

Blogolatio

Ever heard of Pandora.com? It's wonderful. I'm listening to my Ani DeFranco mix right now. I'm convinced they have everything.

This evening I spent quite a portion of it preparing for my husband's arrival tomorrow. I want him to feel very. . .welcomed home. Ladies - we sure go to a lot of work. However, in my more girly moments I admit to myself that I like it. I like preparing and painting my nails. I like sitting around listening to good music and plucking my eyebrows. I love the way my body feels after shaving. I can't wait for him to come home and smell my new scent - I mixed two fragrances from Bath and Body Works. Yummy. I shall be wearing something wonderful and I will have a great lunch prepared with a CD mix going on in the other room. I may have also picked up a few beverages.

An a slightly less private note - it seems like couples give up after a few years. Today at work people were talking about their spouses. To me it sounded like their other half just wanted a little attention. I told one guy to take home some flowers and maybe a treat that she likes and then not ask for "goodies." You see, she'll feel loved and not just sought-after and then she will come and get it; as it were. We ladies just like to know that we are cared about and that you really tried to do something sweet. This goes the other way too. I know that any man appreciates when his girl gets all fancy for him and makes him feel like a King. I don't understand why people can be so selfish.

My parents gave me two bits of advice when I got married. First, never make him guess what I'm thinking. Second, be nice. These two things have helped a lot. I'm far from perfect, but everyday I get up and try again. Everyone tells me that after _____ number of years that will change. That used to be a few, or five, but now that we've been together for almost nine (married for almost five), people have bumped that number up to ten or some other arbitrary number. I hope to prove you all wrong and to show that a gentle give-and-take is the best way. It helps to have the best husband of all the husbands.

This is a super-selfish post; I hope you'll forgive me. Wish me a good weekend.