A Touched Lemon: It Is What It Is Until It Isn’t + Then It Was What It Was Until …
The truth is, the medicinal smell of his bandages just added to my nausea.
That's what I kept thinking, this past Friday, a day after Primo went under for a toe amputation and mass removal on the side of his neck.
I woke up with either a 24 hr. stomach flu or food poisoning …I'll spare those who have never had the great misfortune of either one and their gruesome details. Basically, I lived on my sofa and couldn't even hold down a glass of water. However, I still had to tend to my wobbling patient and his new round of medications. We were quite the pair.
Like some feline Houdini equivalent., Primo managed to shake off his bandages (three times in a course of a few hours. I kept count). I managed to stagger into the kitchen and there we sat, Primo between my legs, my head back, trying not to vomit, rewrapping his "new" paw …Wishing I could explain to him that he must keep this bandage on. Unfortunately, "infection," means very little to him and we struggled the whole way through. (I've failed to mention that as of Thursday, Primo weighed in at 15 lbs. 13 oz.).
As I type this, Primo is quite happy with himself …Rolling about the floor on his back and licking the inside of his cone-shaped collar (Surprising, two days after surgery …That is until I tell you: He's on painkillers).
I woke up this morning as though I hadn't been hurling my insides, the day previous. I managed to run a few errands and held my breath as I put my key into the lock and opened my apartment door ("Please, please still have that bandage on! Please?") …Sigh of relief, he hadn't worked any of his magic.
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"But Mom, you told me that you almost drowned as a child …And we have a pool!"
That was my usual argument, growing up, whenever the topic of "pets," would come up. My Mother was unknowingly raising a monster …Which directly contradicted her "The only sort of pet you can have, Mandy, must fit within a small tank."
I named my first (of many) goldfish, Beethoven. I would like to say that I arrived on such a name due to being a member of an orchestra (which I was) or that my goldfish had a fondness for both alcohol and powdered wigs. The truth was, I had just come back from seeing "Beethoven," at the local cinema. Since a dog could never fit within the confines of a tank (though I'm sure the Japanese are onto that), I named my goldfish a proper dog name …He died a few days later (unceremoniously).
My goldfish death rate knew no bounds …Soon I added chameleons, toads, frogs, a turtle (that lived in the bathtub for a day) and a gerbil to the tank-sized death toll.
I did manage to (sort of …) own two cats throughout this period …Though, the first (Tiger) would be hit by a car before I was able to bring her home and the second (Blackie) managed to go to a "farm," a few months after bringing her home (I should note that my Mother both never wants to talk about this and is the only person aware of the whereabouts of any supposed "farm").
I'm not sure how my younger brother, Matthew and I managed to wear my Mother down but my Mother's decision to allow a dog into the household was made so flippantly, as though Matthew and I had never asked for one. That's how we adopted Lady. A "dog," that I could never bring myself to call a "dog," without air quotes (that said, those who know me, know that I'm quite fond of air quotes across the board so it's really no surprise). She was a Chihuahua/terrier …So the air quotes are understandable. Lady would pass away 14 yrs later, during my first visit back to Michigan. I'd like to think that she waited for me to come back but I'm sure science would have something to say about that.
By that time, I had Lola and she was already half way towards hating the world.
All of this brings up the question: Did your lack of proper pets make you the owner of count them, 4, cats today?
Probably. Probably not. To be honest, I've never really thought of it that way but thanks for your in-depth analysis as to why most of my furniture resembles mohair (that's an exaggeration). Perhaps it's because my Father didn't hug me enough (that was sarcasm …or a Freudism). ___________________________________________________________
I've been holding my writing breath, so to say, over the past couple of weeks for fear that something would go array with Primo (He gave me a great scare while coming out of his biopsy, a week ago).
If you had asked me nearly 2 and a half years ago if I'd ever be sharing an apartment with a diabetic, (now) 17-toed (opposed to 18) cat …I would have said "No". Actually, I probably would've remarked on what a strange question that was and say "Sorry," as I walked away …slowly. Perhaps I'd give you a quarter.
It's true, Primo has been a crash course in cat-care 101. I can't even remember the near 6 mths I had him before he first crashed diabetic.
Having Primo in my life has been a share of highs/lows, ups/downs. A couple of days after his biopsy, when the results came back and I heard for the first time "mast cell tumors," I was admittedly upset and quite visibly so. I simply just felt bad for him …And yes, I felt scared. I was surprised by my reaction. I always lean towards the practical sense and I've held it together numerous times, always turning towards humor, throughout the many passings throughout my two years at Tree House Animal Foundation.
I know that pending any accidents (I'm looking at you cabbies), I will outlive my cats …A realization that's a lot easier to swallow when they've lived a long life …Primo's 4 yrs old. I'm his best bet through all of this and such a feeling of responsibility can be quite overwhelming. I wasn't ready in all my selfishness to let him go without doing and trying my best. That said, I by no means overlook my good fortune working where I work and I'm thankful for those who have been there for both Primo and myself.
As I shaved the side of Primo's head/neck, pre-surgery, I noticed a perfect surgical Y scar, near his ear. I can't recall, to the best of knowledge, Primo ever having any sort of ear related surgeries. I feared if I kept shaving I'd come across a prison tattoo. ____________________________________________________________
All of this said, I will never ask you to clean my cats' litter boxes (that is unless you cat-sit). You will never receive an invite to their birthday parties (nothing personal, I assure you, I'm just not one to do such). I will never dress my cats up in Burberry, lederhosen or rain slickers. I will never have a curio cabinet, within my apartment, entertaining a display of cat figurines.
I can't defend or argue the fact that I have 4 cats. All I know is that as I sit on my sofa, typing this …I look over to Primo, rolling on the floor, his pupils fully dilated, licking the inside of his cone. Lola sprawled out on top of a copy of the New York Times' Book of House Plants. (Princess) Milo curled up on my bed's pillows, as though he fell …And Alton (Brown) sitting up in the bathroom, holding watch for I don't know what (he's the weirdo) …They make sense. There's nothing about them that says out of place. They're home as much as I am.
And yes, there will be no number 5, thanks but no thanks.
Org. Post: Sunday, April 27, 2008
What’s Up, Left, Right …A Sit Down With Myself
I imagine if I were to be interviewed, right now (or if I were to interview myself, that is …I imagine such, I suppose) …It'd go something like this:
Me: Hi, Amanda Jordyn …
Myself: Hi, you can call me Amanda +/or Jordyn …'Amanda Jordyn,' sounds a bit backwoods …or like I'm talking with my Mother.
Me: Ah ok, Amanda
Myself: That works …Hey, could we keep this sort of short. I had a guy, on the phone at work, today tell me to 'go fuck yourself,' …So I sort of have plans.
Me: Ah ok, Amanda …That's a bit TMI.
Myself: TMI? Please no acronyms.
Me: Fair enough …Hey, is that 70s rock I hear in the background?
Myself: Yes …In moments of extremes I often turn to 70s rock. I also sleep on the sofa but that's neither here nor there.
Me: Sleep on the sofa?
Myself: Yes …I often wonder if my Mother had a sofa, in her womb …Whenever I'm overly stressed or out of sorts, I take to sleeping on the sofa …It also may have something to do with the fact that my sofa is located in front of my television and I like to fall asleep to a DVD, on repeat …
Me: That's not very environmental of you …It being only a week after Earth Day.
Myself: [cold dead stare]
Me: Let's continue, shall we? I know time is of essence.
Myself: What is this for again?
Me: Well, you haven't written anything in nearly a month and you're bored.
Myself: Oo yes, that.
Me: How's Primo doing? I know that he recently had a finger amputated and last we knew he was wearing an e-collar +/or cone.
Myself: Primo's great …He's actually curled up on my lap, at the moment. His paw looks wonderful, the hair is growing back and he's almost as good as new. It's funny, before his surgery, he never would lay his paw on my face …I now wake up to him casually tossing his amputated-finger paw on my cheek …He's always been a bit passive aggressive, in nature.
Me: I know that during his recovery, you were dealing with a bit of the stomach flu, how are you feeling?
Myself: I feel fine …The stomach flu was sort of a blessing in disguise …Just what I needed to put my diet back in check. I have yet to really venture out palate-wise …I'm sort of sticking to LARA bars, mashed potatoes and the occasional meal out. The other night I had a cashew butter/fig sandwich, which was delicious.
Me: How's your love life?
Myself: I'd prefer not to get too personal, here …Though, I'm sure any Woody Allen quote would do in response to such a question.
Me: Ah ok, so Woody Allen does your PR?
Myself: He should …If only I were 10 yrs younger.
Me: I know you haven't been writing, lately …We'll touch on that later but have you been reading at all?
Myself: Sure, I'm surrounded by books. I have a list of books I should be reading …My concentration hasn't been all that great but I did manage to finish 'I Thought There'd Be Cake," by Sloane Crosley, which I found charming. I've been hoping around 'The New Kings of Non-Fiction,' which has an introduction by Ira Glass …Not too bad. Right now though, I'm enjoying 'Jokes, Riddles, Funny Stories," a children's book from 1959 that I picked up, last week, at the Brown Elephant.
Me: Jokes? Care to share any?
Myself: Sure! Why is it useless to send letters or telegrams to Washington?
Me: I have no idea …
Myself: Because he's dead …You gotta love children's books.
Me: From the mouths of babes …I hear Elton John, in the background …Aside from 70s rock, have you been listening to anything new?
Myself: I have a copy of Cat Power's latest covers album, on my coffee table right now …Like most, if not all, of her cover work, it's quite good. I particularly like her cover of James Brown's 'Lost Someone'.
Me: Any particular reason?
Myself: [cold dead stare] …I just like it. This morning, I was listening to that very track, making coffee and getting ready for work …I decided to switch to the radio and they were playing Harry Nilsson's 'Without You,' …I had to laugh.
Me: Don't get me wrong, Nilsson is great but that's not really funny …
Myself [cold dead stare] Like I said, I had to laugh.
Me: Ok, ok, I'll let it go.
[quick side note: it's moment like this that I fear my phone ringing + someone asking me "So what are you up to?"]
Myself: I've also recently been listening to a local act called Red Delicious …She sounds a lot like another favorite of mine, Mirah. I strongly recommend.
Me: Good to know …It's been ages since anyone has heard you offer a music review.
Myself: Then you'll remember it.
Me: O…K, so …You have new neighbors! Are they everything you had hoped for?
Myself: Why yes they are! I'd even go so far as to say that they are neighbors-slash-friends …Anna + Paul are great. Paul is a commercial photographer and Anna is getting her Masters in writing. They're both well traveled and we can often be found sitting on our shared back decklet, talking/laughing. I really lucked out …I had a list of worries.
Me: I also hear you have a few new additions to your decklet.
Myself: Who are you hearing this from? Name your source.
Me: You.
Myself: Ok …Yes, new additions indeed + I'm quite excited. I finally did away with my dead/rotting aloe plants …Who sadly didn't make it through winter …In turn, I have a few new plants. Greek oregano, chocolate mint, poppies that are rising by the day and a new aloe plant …I also repotted the Christmas cactus that my Mother had given me months ago. I'm about 60% sure that it's dying but ye have a little hope when it comes to a green thumb, am I right?
Me: That's a far cry for someone who was raised with plastic plants.
Myself: My favorite new plant, however, I bought last Wednesday and it's honestly one of the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen …It's called the Star of Bethlehem.
Me: Star of Bethlehem?
Myself: Yes …I carried it around the plant shop with me, for a little bit …During which a bumble bee opted to catch a ride on one of it's petals …Needless to say, I walked slowly. On my way home, plant in hand, I passed a couple …One woman was in a window and the other was on the sidewalk …As I passed, across the street …Window woman yelled out 'Like the plant she has!' and Sidewalk woman yelled over to me 'Hey what kind of plant is that?' …I yelled back, across my street 'Star of Bethlehem" …Something I never thought I'd yell and had to laugh.
Me: You're hilarious.
Myself: Thank you.
Me: We're nearly two pages into this interview …I want to touch on your lack of writing, if that's ok.
Myself: That's fine but I'm afraid there's little to say. Sometimes things happen, life gets in the way, I'm busy or I'm a bit saturated in numerous stories +/or to-dos that I'm really not sure where or how to begin …Usually it works itself out and …please excuse the term …I get a spark that leads to a topic I can weave a few happenings/observations together.
Me: You shouldn't be afraid of using "spark" to explain your process …It's kind of poetic.
Myself: Exactly …I hate poetry.
Me: Oo yeah, that's right. I'll edit out spark, if you'd like.
Myself: Thank you.
Myself: That's fine but I'm afraid there's little to say. Sometimes things happen, life gets in the way, I'm busy or I'm a bit saturated in numerous stories +/or to-dos that I'm really not sure where or how to begin …Usually it works itself out and …please excuse the term …I get a spark that leads to a topic I can weave a few happenings/observations together.
Me: Don't you find talking about your writing as some form of process a touch self important?
Myself: Yes, it's making me a bit uncomfortable with you …But you asked.
Me: Are you going to get that text message?
Myself: Yes, it's my friend Nick …He wants to know why I'm joining the nunnery.
Me: You're joining the nunnery?
Myself: [cold dead stare]
Me: We're almost done, I promise …
Myself: Good, I need to go fuck myself, you know …
Me: You rarely curse.
Myself: I was using air quotes.
Me: Are you laughing because the Shaft theme is playing?
Myself: Right on …
Me: You're such a bad mutha ..
Myself: Shut your mouth!
Me + Myself: SHAFT!
Me: Hey, the cat that you crawled under a house for, back in January, was adopted …That must feel great.
Myself: Yes! A definite silver lining to my day.
Me: Well, Amanda …Is there anything you'd like to add?
Myself: Always but I'm going to keep such on the back burner, for now. I'm kind of tired and have to be up early for work, tomorrow.
Me: I understand …Waiting for that spark?
Myself: I should go brush my teeth.
Me: I notice you have two toothbrushes.
Myself: [cold dead stare] …I'm big into dental hygiene.
Me: Fair enough. Thank you for your time.
Myself: To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer. Not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness.
Me: Are you quoting Woody Allen?
Myself: Yes …Didn't you see my air quotes?
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