Kittens

I'm unemployed, broke, single, have no libido, am lost and don't have much going for me at the moment... yes, i feel like shit. So, I decided I needed something positive to write. Prepare to be bored.

A couple of weeks ago a kitten came meowing as Arran, my next door neighbour, and I were having a bbq. I had seen two little kittens in someone's backyard a few doors down so carried the kitten back to this house and left it there when there was no answer to the door. I returned to our bbq but it didn't take long before the kitten was back. It was followed by another. They stayed around as we bbq'd and i ended up keeping them snuggled up to me for the night.

I went to return them again the next morning and having no answer again left a note. They were starving little things and there was evidence they had been living on grass and insects for a while... so i fed them. Now they were definitely going to stick around despite my leaving the door open for them to leave. I put a letter in every mail-box along our block and took them to the vets to check for microchips. None. I haven't heard from anyone and have claimed them as my own.

Scout - The Independent.

Scout is named after the origin of the word ("the first explorer") being the first kitten that ventured over and then led his brother. He has since proven that it wasn't a fluke... he goes boldly and independently ahead in every situation checking it out before his brother feels safe to join him. Once he has things sussed he generally sits back a bit. He reminds me of the elder, responsible sibling. He is tolerant of his brother who often pounces on him when he is obviously trying to sleep or be otherwise engaged. He shows a lot more patience and attention span and carries a sense of pride and dignity. Although he's pretty independent and doesn't demand a lot of attention he has his soft side too and does come over for a nurse or to curl up beside me.

Scamp - The sook.

Scamp wasn't really named Scamp; it was just that i found myself saying, "get out of that, you little scamp!" so much that it kind of stuck. Although he can be a bit of a pain, Scamp is a mummy's boy. He generally doesn't like to venture too far away, always greets me enthusiastically, sleeps as close as he can to me and, when he feels he's not getting enough attention, headbutts me gently in the face and smooches. When he's not being full-on affectionate you can gaurantee he's being full-on weird. He's a bit of a clown with plenty of personality and Scout and I often just sit and let him entertain us.

The photo to the right is how i have spent a fair bit of time lately - watching dvds with Scamp getting as close to my face as possible and Scout lying beside me or just nearby. Hey, everybody needs a bossom for a pillow.

The Kittens have become my comfort at night, encourage me to go to bed, and are my reason to get up again the next day. Yes, I've become quite attached to them. Yes, I too hope I don't become a crazy spinster cat lady.

I have something positive in my life.

Virgin Post

In the beginning Mel created a life and a mystery. Now the life appeared formless and empty. Darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the spirit of Mel was hovering over the waters.

And Mel said, "let there be light."

Perhaps I have gone a little far in making any comparisons between my 'creation' of my life and my blog and to "God" (to be referred to as 'Dog' from here on) and his creation of Heaven and Earth. But don't worry, folks, I have no illusions of the grandeur variety and I wish I had a reasonable explanation as to why I chose to draw any parallels at all... The words just seemed to fit as I started writing. As a barely adequate explanation, I offer you this: I am Mel (perhaps if you knew me that would be enough said). Until more recent times I have led a secretive life and have often been described as mysterious. No more. Let this blog be the light that pierces in revelation any secrets burdening my conscience and consciousness; let me paint a picture of my life, warts and all, and keep it out of that attic. I just hope there's not too much of a Dorian Gray effect. (Oh, now there's a comparison that really is fitting and I could rave a good while about.)

I have not written, in the way I intend to write, for a good three -going on four - years. In that time I'd like to think I have learned to handle it again. That I will not absorb into the black-hole of my mind and sit huddled there in its corners hoping someone will save me from myself or, better yet, that they'll all piss off so I can indignantly attempt to crawl out. I do not intend to ever let it go so far again... This is a sacrifice of sorts. It makes me a shallower person because I cannot allow myself to reach the depths I have done so previously... but as intriguing and important I found those depths to be, that part of my mind is a Pandora's box and the angel of hope died in battle such a long time ago now. It is not a battle I think I could win alone again.

So what am I going to write about then? I'm going to write about whatever comes to my mind. That really could be anything. eg. Just then it was toe-nails and eye-lashes... and how they both resemble that cliche moon shape. I'm going to write about the past, present and future as they are perceived by me. I am going to bore anyone who reads this, to tears. But I'm going to be honest. The aim of this blog is going to be for me to be brave (at least in my own eyes) and honest, unguarded and vulnerable; possibly hated. I'm sure at some point I will upset someone. I may lose friends. I know that at some point I will momentarily regret having written something. But I know more than any of this that I am tired of deception, manipulation and down-right lies. Here's my daily dose of corny:

"I would rather be hated for who I am than to be loved for who I am not."

EEK - well, here goes, The Beginning.