to find beauty

simple math

consumed with watching the Olympics + house-sitting for someone lacking my fav creature comfort: wireless internet (tho the 60" HD tv is helping) = no posts from moi for awhile.

Sorry. Kinda.

But do you blame me!? Seriously! Michael Phelps and the whole men's swimming team are amazing and beautiful and... well, its just addicting. And inspiring. It just is.

begging for sympathy (and forgiveness)

Yes, this is another post about cats. It's either men, cats or God it seems.

So, I am still knee deep in caring for cats and various other animals (add a stable of horses, two dogs, a mini horse, a buck-happy goat and 4 big fish) all for my great cause of paying off my student account so I can register for classes at OSU (online) after a five-year "sabbatical."

I offered to help out Nice Kitty (mentioned in a previous post) with her hairball issues while pet-sitting for the tech pastor at church for a week.  Well, actually, Dave asked (laughing) if I could shave the cat while I was there. In the past, this has been no big deal. Snip, snip. Nice Kitty even moves or stands still when I ask her to. NO DRAMA at all. This go-around, I should have kept my mouth shut and left the scissors in the drawer.

So, when Jen (the tech pastor's lovely wife) emailed me some last minute details (how to use the new tv, etc - very important) I responded:

I am glad to help! And Dave has requested some kitty grooming. Haha.

And this is my response from Jen:

Wow, Catnap (Nice Kitty's real name) can't wait! Seriously though, she's in the worst shape ever! We have been unable to get those fur things off her -- I would love any help you can give. Thanks!

And then, here I come. Cori-Scissor Hands and I butchered poor Nice Kitty. I could never be a hairdresser for the stars- or cats- apparently. (Fortunately this was never a dream of mine.) And the worse part is there are several places where the matts were so bad, that some of the skin was removed too... so, she has a serveral small, red sores on her little kitty body (which I have been carefully watching and washing with warm water.)

I called the the tech pastor and left the following message:

"Hey Dave. Cori here. This is not an emergency. So, yeah, I wanted to warn you that I went ahead and tried to help out Nice Kitty with the matted hair situation. And, well, I think I butchered her. She looks quite pathetic, though she seems in good spirits and was very happy to have the matts removed. Anyways... I am sorry for making your cat ugly. And well, I think I cut a little too close a couple times too. So yeah, I thought I should warn you before you saw her. Hope you're having a good camping trip. Bye!"

My anxieties over it all haven't dissapated yet.

At PetSmart last night (while purchasing food for my own cats) I asked the lady at the cat clinic for any advice with the sores.

She gave me THAT LOOK that said I was a terrible, terrible person for not taking the cat in to be professionally groomed. Well, I guess that look should go to the tech pastor, but honestly, give me a break! I reminded myself that not everyone in the world goes to that route. If you Google "shave a cat" you will run across many, many conversations of people who cut the matts off everyday with no drama.

Anyways, I don't know why I am posting this... my failure as a kitty groomer and my anxiety that the tech pastor will be upset or will endlessly give me a hard time about it.

Note: I considered taking a picture... but pride (mine and Nice Kitty's) is getting in the way.

crazy cat lady cori (no exaggerations here)

My life has gone to the cats. And I am totally serious. *total serious face on* And to make this post even more exciting: parts of this could be rated "V" for Violent. Warning, warning!

I am on my fourth? fifth? house-sitting gig of the summer, which overlaps another house-sitting gig. Currently, I am taking care of Sammy the Spoiled, Skinny Gray Cat that lives in a beautiful mansion on the mountainside of Oregon City. He left me a treat today: a very cute, but very dead mouse. (Somehow, this one was kind of cute. Not sure how.) He's (Sammy, not the mouse!) sitting next to me as I type; he follows me around to whatever room I am in. Last night I thought he was going to walk into the shower (which is a giant tiled masterpiece of a room with two shower heads) with me.

When I am not living in the lap of luxury here (which sadly ends tomorrow morning!), I am caring for four kitties belonging to one of my co-workers, who (along with her family) is at Shasta Houseboats with the church high school group. She has four kitties: Angel, who is white with weird gray markings, likes to nap and sunbathe, and has been a very obedient kitty so far, I must say.

I was warned about Bob (featured above), the neurotic girl cat with calico coloring and a penchant for clawing screen doors. Bob has behaved as well. Shasta, the youngest and the softest kitty ever, will purr like a machine if she lets you hold her. And, well, I was told there was a fourth kitty named Minty, but apparently she doesn't like to make appearances too often—too busy hunting, etc.

Starting on Saturday, I begin a new house-sitting job for the tech pastor. I've house-sat for his family often, and I and his kitties have a real relationship. One of them, (I can never remember names) I call fondly "Scary Cat." She hisses and doesn't seem to care for me much. "Nice Kitty," however, I like and she likes me. Follows me around, wants me to hold her, groom her, and pet her. We tend to snuggle and watch TV together on the amazing new HD TV residing at this house. I think there are kitties at the house after that… hmmm.

Of course, I also have my own cat brood. While, I claim to own only one of the four—somehow, I still manage to find myself feeding all of them. Moochie, TeeTee and Elliott all belong to my mother. Elwood, the frequent, reoccurring star of this blog, is mine. I am making frequent visits home, so he doesn't get too mad at me. I think he just wants me to feed him. But today, oh today… I found myself hugging him and crying into his oddly patterned black and white fur.

So, now to the traumatic moment of my day... *deep breath* (This is the part that may be rated "V.")

After work, I drove to my real home, grabbed some things, got the mail, cuddled Elwood, and then left to go to Angel/Bob/Shasta/Minty's house to make sure all was cool with those cats. Driving along on Tilstrom Road (which if you know it, you know people drive fast on it!) I slowed down when a SUV before me was also slowing down… to my horror… to avoid hitting a black with white-toes kitty. And failed. I witnessed it all. Every terrible moment. The kitty trying to move to avoid getting crushed, failed, hit the tire, and then pushed itself like a broken rag doll, flipping like a fish out of water, across the road into the grassy hillside, of which I imagined to be his home. It was terrible. I didn't know what to do. The cat was still alive. The SUV was pulling over. Cars were behind me, so I kept moving forward. Shocked. As I continued to drive, I ached to go back and make the kitty was okay. In a weird slow-motion, I found myself at Angel/Bob/Shasta/Minty's house. I made sure their food and water dishes were full. Gave them all a cuddle and secured them inside the house. Then, I left and made my way back to the scene of the cat-astrophe.

As I passed the spot, I couldn't see anything, but then, in my rear view mirror, I saw her. The owner leaned over a blanket moving back and forth. What do I do? I made a quick turn, and drove to where she was, parked my car, and crossed the road carefully to where she was… I looked at her and she was sobbing. She was on the phone to her husband, asking for him to come home and help her know what to do. I smiled at her and sat down next to her. When she was off the phone, I told her I had seen what happened, and I loved cats. I must have sounded a bit crazy.

She introduced me to Katie, who was still alive and breathing really hard. She was beautiful, and had (like Elwood) weird markings on her face. She was Elwood's age and the same coloring at Elle, Elwood's mom and my cat while I was at OSU. Looking at Katie, I remembered Elle and how hard it was to lose her. How much I loved her. The woman explained to me, she just didn't know what to do. That this was the third cat she's lost to this road. And she was having a hard week. Just had a fight with her daughter. As she gently petted Katie, and tried to warm her up, my heart longed so much to bring whatever comfort I could to his woman. I sat with her, and petted Katie, saying sweet words of her bravery in making it back to the other side of the road when she was in pain. The woman kept telling me I could go, that I didn't need to be there, but it was so hard to leave.

When I finally did break away, I drove back to my real home, went inside and headed straight for Elwood. (He saw my teary face and ran under the bed. Really.) I coaxed him out, and picked him up and held him tight. Why do we get so close to animals? When they have such short lives with us? I cried and cried and cried. I cried for Katie and her owner. For the husband when he got home, who would have to "figure it out." I cried for Elle and how much I miss her little sassy self. And I cried just because I was tired.

---

Well, Sammy the Spoiled, Skinny Gray cat is mewing at the door. (Doesn't he know its rainy outside?) And I have my book—"The Unlikely Cat Lady" to read a bit on tonight… or not. Not sure I want to read about TNR and ferals and cats dying (as I read about last night when poor "Sid" died after being attacked by another bad feral cat.) I think I just want to sleep.

mike in real life

Saturday night was a night of firsts for me. Sorta. I had been on dates before, and I admit, I have met *cough cough* several other "fine" gentlemen from online dating sources over the years... (It has been suggested to me many times, by different friends that I should write a book about my online dating adventures. Hmm.) But this past Saturday night was still a first. I overcame some fears and met a really cool guy in the process.

Yes, you read right: I went on a date. And no, I didn't first email him for months and months. He didn't fly in from the East coast. And, I didn't meet him at church. How I met Mike will remain hush-hush for now (it was online, of course)… but rest assured, I did Google him before meeting and I had several friends and my dad on phone call stand-by if needed.

I was looking forward to meeting Mike because in our emails (yes, emailing was involved) he presented himself to be very witty and sharp, his grammar and spelling was decent, and he didn't beat around the bush about meeting. I liked that. So, I found myself agreeing to meet Mike in real life… and there was so much I didn't know about him! Jesus, be with me!

We went to McMenamin's Edgefield and it was beautiful outside! In my nervousness I probably complained about the heat too much (it was warm outside) and I was trying very, very hard to not ramble on… and on… and on… as I tend to do. Mike was nervous too. I know because I asked him. He was sweet, polite and, despite him being a Duck fan and not knowing what Twitter was AND not being a total internet nerd like myself with myspace AND facebook… he was easy to be around. I felt comfortable.

We ate, we walked around, and then settled on a log picnic bench, next to one of the golf holes and near the site of a wedding reception. [side note: do you think its awkward to be amidst a wedding!! on a first date with someone? It was pretty interesting. No pressure at all. Haha.]

I learned we graduated from the same high school and he wrote for the same high school newspaper that years later I wrote for and became editor of! He was a communications guy in college with a big interest in radio broadcasting. I told him of my returning to school, to finish my communications degree. He was easy to talk to, easy to listen to—and made me laugh so hard with a "dumb and dumber" –type story that seriously will make your eyes water too. (Okay, just to clarify: not the bathroom scene.)

We were also highly entertained by an illegally parked car. Yes, it was better than a movie. The Edgefield staff were clamoring around with the clipboards, walkie-talkies and in their golf carts in search for the owner of the illegally parked car. 

As Mike pointed out, it wasn't like the car was in the way of traffic. Cars could get through. I chipped in that it's the principle of the car not parking in designated parking areas… as if they are superior to us all who drove around for a spot. However, as one Edgefield employee said excitedly, with this clipboard poised, "it's even better that the car is parking in front of a fire extinguisher. We could call the cops on this!" The illegally parked car caused quite the stir amongst the crowd around us. Mike would relay to me what other tables were saying… their opinions of such a terrible thing to do. Of course, as we both reminded ourselves, most people around us were drunk, or near to. We were sipping soda.

The big moment came when the tow truck came. Mike wanted a picture and I was too embarrassed so he went and got it (though he told someone up there that the picture was for me!!!) Now, we were to wait and see if the owners of the car came… we imagined either they'd be enraged or confused in their drunken stupor where they parked their car. "Surely honey, we parked it right here?" he would slur to his wife. However, if this be the case, I certainly glad the car was towed and they didn't get behind the wheel intoxicated!

The sun went down, and a fire was made to warm people up. Mike was all for it. Even though, we reeked of fire smoke (and cigar smoke from our neighbors)… there's something unique about just sitting and visiting and being near a fire.

On our way back to the car, it was pretty cold… and probably colder for Mike as he had been roasting closer to the fire than I. I feel a little bad now, reflecting that I called him a wimp about the cold. And the bug fear. (He doesn't like bugs or blood.) He seemed good-natured in response to my teasing. I even turned the heat on in my car for him. [note: when you turn the heat on in your car in July when it's very hot outside… remember to switch it back to the a/c. I was sweating in the car on the way to church the next morning, before it dawned on me why I was so hot. – I believe in the spirit of rednecks: that's a "here's your sign" moment?)

So, that was the night. Why was this evening a first for me? Because, simply, it was the first time I went into a date and felt okay just being me. I didn't spend months or really any time planning a wedding beforehand or sweating over conversation starters. I was nervous and excited, yes, but I was also very… content. Happy. I had no expectations other than just having a pleasant evening with someone new.

And, today, the day after… I feel fine. I am still content. Still happy. I look forward to whatever the future holds… and I am grateful knowing that I do not need to be afraid of being myself.

where’s my black & orange?

Something recently clicked in my head. I can pin point some specific moments, but for the sake of this brief post… let me summarize by saying: when you finally let go of fears and move forward with things that are scary… well, it's really exciting.

For example… I mustered the courage and called the admissions office at Oregon State University. It's funny how this little phone call took me about five years to make. Five years! Afterwards (I called during a break at work), I found myself walking dazed down the hallway, where I was passed by Dave, the tech pastor.

"You okay, Cori?" he asked, his face a little concerned.

"Dave, I think I just re-admitted myself back into school." I say, stunned.

"That's great! Are you returning for your masters? Some classes?"

"Eh, no, I am returning to finish something I started a very long time ago and have avoided for too long."

So, yeah. I don't know at this point if I will be taking classes Fall term or Winter term. I have some hoops to jump through first (the money part.) But I am excited and I feel like I was released from a trap that was holding me for too long. I won't be moving down to Corvallis either, at least I have no plans to… I will be finishing the last bit as much as possible with the ecampus. Ironically, if I begin Winter term, my first class could be an online class called "Communication and Cyperspace." I am so, so ready to take that class! Hello! Twitter in the workplace? Social network programs and their influence on churches and the office place! I am so there!