Life as an Extreme Sport

Tuna Tuesday*: “Zeus, You’re Being Such a Butthead!”

One of the worst things you could tell me, when I was a teenager, was that we all grow up to become our parents. Actually, becoming my father wasn’t that bad an idea – my dad is funny, snarky, has a fantastically contagious laugh, and he made me the geek I am today. But oh, becoming Mom? Full body shivers and complete denial. I would never become my mother. Ever. Over my dead body. Thankfully, it didn’t take her dead body for me to realize that I am my mother’s child, as much as I am my father’s child. It was a slow revelation that crept up on my in my early 20s, as I made peace with my parents and the hormones and crankiness of the teen years flushed out of my system. Of course, being difficult, I noticed the negative traits first. Anyone who has ever noticed that

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Tuna Tuesday: Times You Don’t Want to Wash a Cat

“Hey, Kelly? Weren’t you supposed to start writing about a week ago, give or take?” “Why yes, Anonymous Internet Voice, I was!” “Well, you didn’t. Why not?” “It’s a bit of a story, Anonymous Internet Voice, but pull up a virtual chair and I’ll tell you all about it…” Okay, cutesy conceit dropped, but the point remains. I was supposed to write. I didn’t write. What the hell happened to writing? Well, a record heatwave for this early in the season turned me into a puddle of Not Doing. I don’t have central air in my apartment, and only my bedroom has A/C. (In this photo, Toledo is helpfully illustrating that it’s so hot all his bones melted.) In fact, it was so hot that, when I wasn’t trying to keep myself cool, I was trying to cool down the cats. However, I discovered that a wet clothe on the

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Attempting Goals – Weekly Schedule

The problem (okay, a problem – there are more than one) with parasthesia is it doesn’t give you much warning. One minute, your hands are working fie, and the next minute you’re marveling at your ability to both save the mug and spill iced coffee in your freezer, down front and back of the fridge door, all over the floor, and of course, all over yourself. It’s hot, so at least the shower – although sooner than anticipated – was not unexpected. Anyhow, there was a point there, and I think it went something like this: sometimes, you’re in the middle of living life and something happens to change everything. You either sigh, clean up the mess as best you can, and then go back to living best you can, or you sit in the middle of the kitchen floor and cry over spilled coffee and milk. Both are valid

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