I'm guessing I might be the only one round these parts to get the Monty Python reference above. It's a frightening thing when you realize your cultural references are starting to grow hairs in places they shouldn't. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.
It doesn't help that I work in an office where the average age hovers around 25. I made a joke about watching Ricky Schroder in old episodes of Silver Spoons while I was standing at the printer a couple of weeks ago and the kind soul that was there stapling stuff just looked at me blankly and sort of cocked his head to one side. I could tell he really didn't want to admit that he had no idea what I was talking about (he gets points for this...) I yammered on and on about it, saying something like, "You know - that cute blond kid that rode around his rich dad's mansion on a little train and made all the twelve year old girls swoon?" Still nothing. After he walked away I realized he probably wasn't even born the year I had glued myself to the TV screen, licking the glass and praying that Ricky would ride that little train straight into my living room so we could go out for pizza and make out in my basement. Sigh.
Anyway....I realize I've been a bit melancholy in my recent posts. Granted, there's been a bit of melancholy-ness in my life recently, so that was to be expected. But things are looking up now and it's time to get some sunshine back in these parts. So yeah, things are good. Really good. I am enjoying the unexpected moments that are opening up and taking the time for some fun. I'm seeing friends and spending time in the city and restaurant-ing and catching up with life. I didn't realize just how much time went in to taking care of something so fragile. Cinder walked the edge of death for ten long months. The feeling of unlocking my front door and wondering whether or not he would be alive when I came home became an unconscious undercurrent. To have that part of it gone is a very nice thing, and there is more room now for good stuff.
The title of this post may have led you to believe that this would be something fresh and different, when in reality this is the third time in a row I've written about my cat. I'm fully aware that I'm treading in dangerous waters here, and I sure as hell don't want to play into the "Single Girl Talks About Her Cat All the Time" stereotype. It's only been a week, so I think you can cut me a little slack. And besides, the other thing I've got going on in my life is pretty private (but it's driving me craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazy and I reaaaaaaaaaaaaaally want to write about it, but I just can't be that boundary-less yet. Maybe someday when I move into that new blog neighborhood....Soon.)
Other than all of that, I'm feeling serene. And anticipatory. Sort of how you feel when you're trying not to laugh because you're in a serious place, but a slow grin spreads across your face anyway and you simply can't help but to feel silly. I don't know what it is, but I am excited to find out.
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