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Month: November 2019

Kitten Farts: tiny, yet powerful.

If you can’t handle the fact that a) we fart, and b) animals fart then you’re gonna have a bad time. I don’t really understand why I was such a prude about something that is so necessary and normal a body function when I was a–okay, I do. It’s a societal-women-don’t-do-anything-not-perfect, but I ain’t got the 8 years needed to unpack all of it. Anyway, one of the most powerful forces on this earth is not in fact, nuclear but a tiny pfffttpppffft of wind from the backside of a tiny kitten who is learning to adjust to a new…

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Grief has no plot, like my blog posts.

I wrote on the 16th of November on the dreaded book of the face, how I found it distressingly amusing that in times of personal grief instead of being the lovable weird pink monster of glitter over sharing that I usually am—I lose all ability to communicate as I would normally do. Usually, I over share. I am, as a friend once told me, much like a too enthusiastic golden Labrador retriever stuck in a human body. I want to run and jump and over-share and wag my tail and be sad and happy and all the things without a…

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I Carry your Heart With Me

9 and 1/2 years ago we lost an almost 20lb meatball of claws and purrs named Raven. She came to Shawn well before he ever met me, via a lady who I believe asked him, “Hey, want a cat? We don’t want it anymore,” and became the illusive meatball ninja of almost-feral timidness that also demanded pets and scratching but only on her terms. When Raven passed, we were finally living on our own in a one bed room apartment instead of with my husband’s parents which, at our ripe old age of mid 30’s was a fuckin’ step up…

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