Pussy Love

One of the things I love most is my three roommies, Willa, Daisy and Jake. They seem to want to get their messages out, and so I will, when I'm done posting, let them have their say. I have no idea what they will divulge, yet they seem to feel it's important. So here we go with a new segment called Pussy Love. I'll let them introduce themselves.


Merow-ow,

I'm what she calls Willa, among other things. I think she took out that big Wheeler thing that runs over my tail all the time. She'll be gone for a while. I'm so glad I got this chance to tell you all about my life.

It is rather crowded with two other butt sniffers here. She calls one of them Daisy. I like her, she plays hard for such a little one. She's half my size, and I can dominate her easy. The other, Jake, is a real problem for me. He thinks he runs the territory, but he is wrong and I tell him every chance I get. He's kind of stubborn. And big.

Life is pretty easy otherwise. I get to sleep my 16 hours without worry. I have food whenever I get the tiniest craving. Water is leaking out of the faucet in her litter box room, (wow what a strange litterbox it is) that's fresh for me.

My favorite thing is running out of the door whenever I get the chance. I love meeting other people, and going into their territories. The smells could keep me busy for hours! Reowoh!

I hear her, she's so loud, so I gotta go! I've gotta hang out by the door, so I might get my chance. The door is opened so seldom and for very short amounts of time (whatever that is). I hear the door now, so bye...

I'm still ringing in the new year!

Today is the second day of the rest of my life, sort of. I am back on my Trikke for the second day after a very lengthy recovery from a knee injury. It's called chondromalacia, or, ironically enough runner's knee. If you knew me you'd be in on the joke by now, or just look at any picture of me.

Chondromalacia, or chondo for short, is thinning of the cartelidge in the knee joint. Isn't it cool to have access to the internet? I am an expert now. The bitch is sometimes recovery takes up to three months.

I am on my second Trikke run since November's very few painful attempts. Yesterday I went five minutes, today ten. So far no problems. Yeahhhh! Although I will retain complete joy until tonight when the pain would traditionally show.

But I am off topic, although it's a pertinent topic. Am I skimming over the fact that I TRIKKED TODAY!?! I am trikking tomorrow for 15 minutes, then 20, then who knows! I might be back to my favorite past time with my clothes on. OMG!

My Trikke brings me such joy. I love the feel of the air across my face, I love syncing my carving to the music on my ipod, especially when the beat is strong and fast (Lady GaGa comes to mind). And in a few short weeks (after all we are in the middle of January already) I will go a few miles again and really have a blast carving on the bike trail.

Strength will be mine, I will have it again. Our bodies are such perfect machines. Sometimes they take longer than we'd like to heal, but given the right recourse they come back.
Photo by Randy Boyd

Yaaa-Hooo, 20-ten!

There is a lot of speculation going around about what we should call this decade. The 'tween years seem to be approaching like a blizzard and we have the end of the world to contend with in December of 2012 as well.

The promise of a new decade makes me smile. I know it's just a few days later from last year and yet I am thinking about goals for this new year. I get to re-invent myself! What is it about the beginning of January that inspires us to start this trek? I know it's like a clean slate for us all, a new calender without any X's to mark good and bad starts and stops. But doesn't that happen every time we turn the page on our calendars?

So, I'm going to take this global restart date to make some goals, not resolutions, to be a healthier, happier person on this planet. And I plan to spread joy, because we have less than three years before the end of time!
Photo by Randy Boyd

Boy am I losing it

On my way out the door today I couldn't find my bag. It is a bright red backpack that does not hide well. I started thinking, "where could I have left it?" After all I was in my apartment. Did I leave it in the hall and close the door on ever finding it again? Is it under a blanket? No, that's a kitty hiding from the dust storm I'm creating trying to find this red leather bag. Oh crap, I'll have to get all new cards and pictures and phone and whatever I have found that I can't do without even for a few hours so I carry it with me wherever I go.

On my third round through every room in my apartment I am gaining in frustration, and then I feel something lightly worn on my back.

It is right at this moment my problem is solved, and I feel like a dork -- the reason I couldn't find the thing is I was already wearing it! All I can say is I'm glad I don't have to replace anything except a few blown brain cells.
Photo by Randy Boyd

I'm still standing... sort of

I am still alive. I have been lazy lately, not walking much, not Trikking much, not writing much. I'm going through one of those times where I am taking those two big steps backwards, awaiting the forward steps that will jut me back into the world I was inhabiting a few short months ago.

I have no real guesses as to what tips me off into my version of oblivion. But it happens when I can't move. Movement is the key. Ya gotta keep those endorphins flowing. I also have noticed that once I start ranting on this blog, then I start feeling better and then who knows, maybe the posts will be interesting... Here's hoping!

I bought my first hip-hop song

I have been a little nervous about rap and hip hop. This is not unprecedented. I was very afraid of punk then became a huge fan, so anything can happen.

The cherry popping song is from Flo Rida. Funny, it's based on a song from the 80's. It's called "Right round". I loved it before, and I'm loving it now. It's funny how music that stirs me becomes a sort of muse. I haven't posted here for some time and now look, a stray surge of inspiration. I am like a tween, listening to this song over and over again. I want to move, I am moving as I type actually.

Back in the early 80's I used to get up early just to listen to X, the Cars, the Pretenders, among others. I danced around the room back then. Music was better than coffee. It lit up my soul.

I feel that way right now. Maybe because it's juxtaposed against a reaction of depression from a medication I stopped recently. I just want to sleep. And I stopped this medication 3+ days ago.

So I keep playing this song over and over again to support me as I start my day. I'm reminded again of the power of music that sets the stages of our days and holds us up when we are slipping down.
Photo by Randy Boyd

Frankenstein in the dark

I feel like a failure. I have no words. Haven't for weeks. I have not been walking, Trikking, living, for a few weeks due to my pain level. I thought getting old was not for the weak of heart and now I am convinced of it. I love walking, Trikking, activity. I am afraid of taking time off and slipping back to the level that I was at in Sept. '08. I don't want to start over, and yet my pain level is at a 7-8, as soon as I stop. Maybe that's the answer, don't stop!

I must admit that I am afraid of the pain. It's like Frankenstein in the dark. It hides around corners and then jumps out at me when I stop moving. I've got to just face it head on. I have meds, a TENS unit and ice, the 20th century equivalent of torches, clubs and local villagers. I will fight the beast, and I will conquer!

Not only have I been inactive, but I also have been eating my frustrations away. I have gained weight. But I did, after all, stop smoking. So something incredible has happened during the last three months. But it's time to move on. I'm going Trikkin' today, yeah!

A different kind of layover

I have been sidelined from my Trikke for some time now. I am so frustrated with my right knee. It feels ok and then I get on my Trikke. Maybe my knee is not strong enough for the ride. Have I spent way too much time on my ass?

I enjoy walking and so I guess I'm back to walking. OK, I'm cross training... Or something like that. Yet, I want my Trikke (said like a child having a tantrum)!!!!! What do other athletes do when sidelined from their main sport, cry? Waaaahh........

Walking for me is like getting back to basics. I don't have to worry about hitting the sidewalk at a wrong angle or having to maneuver around pedestrians on said sidewalk. It's safer, no fear factor. I can't even remember back to when I have fallen while walking. Not for 1/2 century or so. (What the F...?! & YIKES!)

But walking is not as much fun as my beloved Trikke, Birdie. This would be a perfect place to go off on a tangent about how great the Trikke is but not now, I've got to get ready for a walk.

Here I am again

I am still breathing, my eyes are open and I am upright, well sitting, just not laying about. I have watched a lot of TV, movies and the inside of my eyelids. I have been out for a few weeks. Part injury, part illness, part bipolar.

I have missed Birdie, my Trikke, the most though. I have not been active for a few weeks and I have lost some of my strength. But that will come back quickly enough, right?

I don't feel very creative or like I have to convey something today, just wanted to have a post in November.