Pobrecitos

My little ones are still shoved into the corner of my closet looking like refugees. They probably feel that their world has dropped out from under them. However, the bowls of Gerber Chicken baby food were licked clean this morning, the litter box was used and their crunch and soft snack bowl had only a few tell-tale bits of crumbs left. At least I know that they are fed. Patience and probably by next week they will be running around the living room.
Last night after I dropped them off at the apartment, gotten scratched and realized that these babies are wild. I gave them a piece of cheese-the only suitable cat like food I had in the house. I didn't think they would care for the applesauce or pasta. Then I headed to Walmart. My free kittens quickly added up to $75, but they have a fleece cube, a scratching pole, litter & litter boxes (multi-cat small spaces), enough food for one more day, a brush, a couple of kitty toys. As I was piling everything in the cart talking to M, I said now you see why I never had kids--there is a reason.

I'm a New Mom

Well, right now I probably seem more like the grim reaper to my new charges but hopefully we will get to know each other soon and they will come out of the closet.
The photo attached to this posting is not a photo I took because right now the little ones are too frightened of me to come out of the corner.
This afternoon one of my regular patrons came into the library asking for a pet shelter that she could take her cats that are now too much for her to handle. She started with 2 and they have now multiplied to more than a dozen. I found her the locations and I started to query her about what kind of cats she had. She mentioned that she had two Siamese looking twins that were still quite small. I decided that if she would bring them to me, I would take them. So this evening before the library closed she brought them to me in a small cage.
Once I got them home I quickly realized that these little one's are actually quite wild. My patron said that she caught them when they came out to eat, so with their behavior and her statement, I deduced that they haven't been tamed, yet. Poor babies.
They are adorable. One is more shy than the the other. The dominate one is fiesty and I have yet to get a look at him/her. I think probably a her since the smaller, more timid one seems to be a boy. I have to think of names for them and I am considering Misha and Sasha for them no matter the gender. Misha is Russian for little bear and I think I will probably call the fiesty one Misha. Sasha although can be a girl's name also is the Russian diminutive for Alexander so can be for a boy, too.
My family has had a Misha before--he was a beautiful long hair Russian Blue that took over the parenting of the twin Siamese that my dad brought my mom for Valentines one year. The Siamese were named Lucy (girl) and Nikki (boy). My dad named them after my nicknames. This is how I knew that he really missed me after I went away for college. Mind you it caused some confusion when I heard "Lucy come eat" when I was home only to go down to the kitchen and find a bowl of cat food on the cabinet.
Our first Siamese when I was growing up was TK. He was Velvet's first litter when we moved to town and she was still living with us. Siamese are white when they are born. I remember expressing my fascination with the white kitten but my mother told me that it would turn out to be just a common yellow cat. Much to our amazement, he developed points and turned into a Siamese. TK was a cool cat that we loved until the neighbor shot him.
Velvet was still cavorting with her Siamese beau after she moved herself to the youth shelter because out of a later litter we got Tisha which my mother adored. Tisha was typical high maintenance Siamese and without a doubt my mom's cat. Tisha produced my long hair lilac point Tasha that was sweetness. One day my brother's friend was visiting my mom. Tasha was sitting on top of the TV, when she finally moved after about an hour, Keeva gasps, "She's real." Tasha's role in life was to look beautiful.
So I am looking forward to getting to know my little ones.

Sex Goddesses, Exploding Toilets & Bad Ju-Ju

I am never short a story and this week is no exception. Here are a few stories that I will file away for future purposes.
1) During the book sale this weekend, I learned something about Santa Clarita's early days. This all started when someone said "Did you see that the Sex High Priestess is here?" What? "Oh, yes, in the 70's her husband spent a few years behind bars for pandering." Really! "Yes, the defense claimed that it wasn't pandering but a religious rite for their church--the judge didn't buy it and he spent some time." They pointed her out and she is a regular customer that looks a bit like a grandmother. Wow, you just never know, do you? I also found out in the good ole days when Mr. Newhall ran the newspaper, there were some pretty wild editorials and the DUI list was published every Monday.
2) I went to a going away party on Saturday after the book sale for one of the Assistants that got a job in Montana as a library manager. Her husband was driving back from Montana to California. He stopped in at a McDonald's, went to the toilet stall and sat down. He said he noticed that the commode seemed to drop a few inches and then suddenly with his pants down around his ankles water came forcefully gushing out. He was trying to get the door open but it opened in rather than out so he had a hard time. By the time he got himself decent enough to get out, he was drenched. The management decided to comp his meal because his bills were too wet and they didn't want to accept them. So it seems that spilling hot coffee on yourself earn you millions at McDonalds but having to narrowly escape drowning yourself with your pants down around your ankles gets you a 5 buck meal.
3) Yesterday I asked a gentleman to stop holding his crucifix up in the library. He asked "Is it illegal?" Before I could craft the answer "No, but proselytizing in the library is not allowed." He slipped the 7 inch cross into the Star of David necklace he was wearing with the statement "It is part of my outfit." The manager and I both said "That's fine as long as you are wearing it." The man sat back down to his computer. The manager and I looked at each other and agreed that he was a new one and hadn't been in either of our libraries before. A little later he asked to speak with the manager and the end result was that he was trying to cleanse all the bad ju-ju that people were bringing into the library. Thank you, I guess.
And finally 4) I was scheduled to do a walk through of my new library with my regional administrators. Y calls them the Three Fates. They are all great and I have learned a lot from each and everyone. One is very particular and exact. She always has well coordinated suits and has the right thing to say and do. Yesterday she was wearing a white jacket. After the walk through we went to lunch. I had ravioli with marinara sauce. Do you see where this is going? As she was sitting next to me, she was in direct line of spray when a ravioli slipped off my fork and back into the pool of bright red sauce. Mortification ruled my day. She took it very well, whipped out a Shout spot cleaner and proceeded to dab at the multitude of blood like spots. The only thing that could make me feel even marginally better was that my jacket and white shirt were also spotted although not as deeply. Oh, I am a total mess. I always find a way to sabotage myself in the worst way.

Sometimes My Job is Fun

I have a regular patron that is an actor. I didn't quite realize that he was one. But he came in one day with a different facial hair so I asked him what was up. He explained that he was working on a Mentalist episode. Cool. I won't disclose his real name, although it is a famous one. He can't use his given name because SAG nixed it. He rather uses his grandfather's. He said I could check out some of his stuff out on You Tube, so here is one of the links. I love the dread's.

OMG

Yesterday morning I woke up at 6:00 so that I could leave by 7:00 to get to Downey by 8:30. At 6:55 I sat down to my bowl of cereal. I heard a buzzing down in the wall. What in the world? I walked into my mini hallway. I noticed that my vanity lights were flickering. What? I turned the lights off. I opened the breaker box and saw SPARKS. Heart rate instantly jumped up. I quickly flipped half the switches. The buzzing stopped. Relief. Then I started hunting around for my the Apartment Office number. I was in such a state that I wasn't making much sense to myself. Suddenly I had to pee, so I thought I might be able to think better if my bladder wasn't full. I accidentally flipped the bathroom room switch which instantly began to flicker and I heard the buzzing in the wall again. I no longer had to pee. OMG! I went back to the breaker box which was sparking once again, so I threw the other half of the switches.
I finally located the office number and called. The woman that answered didn't seem as alarmed as I was. She asked if there was smoke. When I said no, she said she would see IF someone could come check it out after hours. I let her know that my freezer was defrosting at the moment and I would lose all my stuff. I swear I heard her let out a sigh when she said she would work on it.
Completely freaked out, I loaded up jewelry, computer and some clothes. My parents had an electrical fire where they lost a bunch of stuff. I would have loaded up more but I coxed myself out of being WORST CASE SCENARIO GIRL and let it go with what I had.
At about 7:30, I was calm enough to get in the car. I was deciding if I really wanted to go for training or not. Maybe I needed to be near the apartment. But then I decided that I would do no one any good being near the apartment. If it burned it burned. The training had to be done and I might as well be at a long Power Point reading day with a frazzled mind than actually trying to do work. I got in the car about my coffee to make my way to Downey about 50 miles away. I knew I would be late and since it took me 10 minutes to make it to the first stop light from my apartment which is less than a quarter of a mile, I knew that I was really not going to make it on time.
At 8:00 I called the library and asked the Assistant to send Bob an email to let him know I was going to be late. I was at Freeway cruising speed which was about 30 miles an hour. Then, I made a mistake. Just past downtown there is a jumble of freeways. The 5 cuts down to two lanes from five but it isn't the right two or the left two, it is somewhere in between. I thought I was in the far lane to stay on the 5 so I just followed the road, but I wasn't and ended up on the 10. Once I got off I was in Vernon--where ever the Hell that is. I couldn't find my way back to the freeway. Eventually I ran across a surface street that I knew ran near where I wanted to be, got out my handy Thomas Guide and found myself. About 30 minutes later I ended up at LHQ (Library Head Quarters)--a full hour late.
On the way in I called the Apartment Office and spoke with Marvin the head Groundskeeper. I explained the problem. He said that sometimes breakers are thrown when there is too many things connected. Exasperated, I explained that that was the problem the breaker didn't throw--it was sparking. Oh, he said, let me go check it out. Yes, I responded, please do.
Later I called and yes, the other guy saw the sparks too. Somehow a wire wasn't grounded and was shorting out. Fun. He fixed it, turned my lights back on and I came home to a safe apartment, feeling a bit sheepish as I got my stuff out of my car.

Simplifying

Finally the heat has abated. This past weekend, I realized that my sweaters were all packed away. With the current state of the space between my ears, the change in weather, and an up-coming birthday, I decided to evaluate my collections--shoes, books, clothes, etc. I also have to admit that I have been watching Horders on A&E on Monday night. Well, technically I haven't finished an episode yet. I get too weirded out and have to turn the TV off.
This past weekend, I got down to business. I rounded up all my shoes from the coat closet, the bedroom closet, the shoe basket in the living room, under my bed, etc. I decided that I did not need over 60 pairs of shoes. OK, that was a really hard decision to make as I longingly touch each pair. Thinking--"I wore these in Vegas for my 40th birthday", "Cam really liked these--when I wasn't wearing much else." Each pair with a story and a memory. And then realization struck--horders have to touch each and every thing. I steeled myself and set down criteria--If they hurt, if I hadn't worn them in 2 years I had to get rid of them. I quickly put on the two above mentioned pair of shoes--thus saving them. In the in 17 pairs well actually only 16 pairs--I pulled one more pair out of the pile--will go to Single Mother's Outreach and their Career Closet.

Next came clothes. In my storage closet, I had boxes of clothes packed up that I used to wear and a few that I had bought hoping to be able to wear in sizes 10, 12 and 14. I can't fit in any of them at the moment--well some 14's but not many. I had suits, slacks, blouses, all of them probably bought on a credit card that are now essentially useless to me. I brought them from Hawaii in hopes that I would be able to shed some of the pounds and get back into them. I have been here 3 1/2 years and that hasn't happened yet. So out came the boxes and I packed them all--well most of them--into the boxes. I came up with several trash bags full to go to the Goodwill as well.
I also paired down my cookbooks and some other books. In the end, I have probably gotten rid of a car load of stuff. All stuff that I don't really use. I understand why I have a huge debt that I chip away at each month. Like hoarders, I have a compulsion to acquire things. However, fortunately, unlike them I have an aversion to clutter. I feel that I am truly a Libra on this issue with the scales swinging to and fro on acquiring and shedding.
J asked me if I was as ruthless weeding my own things as I was weeding books from my library. On this, I guess I am for the same reason. There comes a point that if you haven't used it for a period of time--it is no good and maybe someone else will find it more valuable. If you can't see it because it is under a bunch of other crap it is no good. If you can't fit anything else into your space then you got to do something because piles are unacceptable and being jammed in makes it inaccessible and thus no good. Essentially, I feel that if these things are true then you really don't have it and when you have too much then the things keep you from enjoying the things that you could or do use. A well trimmed collection like a well trimmed hedge is enjoyed more than an unkempt one.
But I do know that women that I trying to get back into the job market will have far more use of my size 10, 12 and 14 business clothes and shoes sitting in my closet than I will. If I get back into them, I can assure you that I will find an excuse to go on a spending spree of joy at getting down to those sizes again.

Transitions

At dinner on Saturday night in the Antelope Valley, J reminded me that I haven't been posting much lately. Yes, I agreed. I am not entirely sure why but I have been in a bit of a funk lately. I will be transitioning to a new library next month, so part of my time has been going through the Civil Service process--testing and interviews to do that and the rest of the time has been spent wrapping my head around the coming transition. Don't get me wrong, I am ambitious and I pursued the promotion. It is a brand new spanking library that I have the opportunity to get on the ground floor of how things are done. No coming in to "this is how we do this at this library". Setting up the library is a fantastic professional development opportunity that is not lost on me. All those building built in the 70's had a shelf life of 30-40 years so this is a valuable piece to have in my professional tool box.
Nevertheless, I have had to get my head wrapped around it all. This will be my 5th library in less than 4 years. I am comfortable with the known. I am getting to know my community and I like them--well most of them. I enjoy not commuting. I can walk to work if I want to and sometimes I do--when the ole heel isn't giving me hell.
Here is my main concern. I have never been at one job for more than 4 years at any one time EVER! I have left and returned to almost all of my jobs. I guess that says something good, but what else does that say. I get bored and feel the need to go do something else, get bored and go back to what the now new old position. Wash and repeat. Hmmm. I am concerned that I am at a point in my life when I need to think about stability and the future. Retirement is usually contingent on staying in a position long enough to build it up. Since I have moved up so quickly with the County--and I am grateful, I don't have much further to go. My concern is that I still haven't had the chance to see if I have stick to it power. Also, I am quickly realizing that all this moving that I have done most of my life--I am convinced that I am part Gypsy--has a financial strain. While living abroad, I took to carrying a spatula with me because I had bought so many during my years of being in and out of Japan that I had probably spent somewhere in the neighborhood of $50-70 (pre 99cent and 100 Yen stores) on this very inexpensive necessity. I got tired of getting rid of and re-buying so many things that are just not valuable enough to take but nevertheless needed. For some reason I drew a line with spatulas and started packing one in my suitcase.

My brother Dave and I were talking on the phone this weekend. He doesn't like change--he moved to Stillwater for college and never left except for a brief disastrous go at living in Dallas. Me, I can't seem to keep the same hair color for more than 3 months. Maybe Pop was right all those years and he wasn't my father but a policeman dropped me off at the door. But then again, he was a trucker and traveled all the US Highways. When I road trip I think about him. I am a cross between him and my mom. I love being in the car for hours, just watching the scenery go by. I have a destination in mind. I push myself onward like my father. But I also see all the interesting things along the way and want to stop. So during my two road trips, I have accommodated both styles. One the way out, I push ahead. The long road in front of me. My thoughts drifting in a Zen like experience with the gradually transitioning landscape hour after hour across country to my destination. My return trip is seeing all the pretties that I noticed on the way--the stop at the museum, the overnight in a destination.
Change is on the way for me. Will this be the last one for a while? No, I have to move in March. Maybe, I will be able to test my mettle in this next move. See if I have staying power. Time will tell. With the change of weather and the change of season, I have regained my purpose and am now embracing the upcoming transition. More posts soon.