Catnip experiment number one.

2003-07-03 10:09 a.m.

I planted a catnip plant in the front yard.

Day one: someone ate the tops off the catnip plant.

Day two: catnip plant is squished and covered in brown and black fur as if someone had been rolling on top of it.

Day three: catnip plant is dug up and dragged out to the side walk. Plant is considerably flattenened and covered in cat spit.

I replanted the catnip plant and gave it a good watering. What the cats don't know is that this is the DECOY catnip plant. Hidden in the backyard between the onions and zuchinni is a beautiful catnip plant that is growing tall and thriving. Shhh. Don't tell the neighborhood cats.

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Whoops.

2003-07-02 12:55 p.m.

Memo to self: be careful when practicing a staff form in the company's gym at the ceiling is only eight feet tall.

You can't expect to leave a metal pole in the gym and have me not wield it around like a weapon. I'm just glad I didn't hit one of the sprinklers or florescent lights. I did however demolish an entire ceiling tile. I won't tell if you won't.

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Annual cat torturing event & why fu.

2003-07-01 9:49 a.m.

Last night was the annual cat torturing event where we take the cats to the vet for their annual exam and shots. In order to attempt to decrease the amount of screaming, we tried something new. I sat in the backseat with the cats in their carriers next to me. I'm pretty sure Trinity would normally travel in silence but when Loki starts shrieking like you're trying to kill him, she starts up too. I took Trin out of her carrier on the trip there and let her look around. She was very curious but wanted to climb into the trunk area of the hatch back. On the way home I took Loki out and let him look around, but he quickly went into sensory overload and tried to stuff himself down the front of my shirt. At least there was less yelling when one of them was peeking about. Good news: no worms, or any kitty illness. Bad news: flea city. Purchased a six-pack of advantage and will put it on them as soon as they recover from the immunizations. Actually they seemed pretty good this morning. By the time I got home I was ready for a stiff drink, bubble bath and bed. I think it's almost as traumatic on me as it is on them.

I've been asked quite often on why kung fu? I briefly considered Tae Kwon Do as I have a friend who is a black belt and really likes her style. I shied away as I wanted an art that focused equally on hand and foot techniques. I wasn't interested in Aikido as that was a lot of rolling around on the floor and redirecting of movement. I didn't want to do Jits as that is almost all groundwork (although I'm starting to like that more and more). So I asked myself why do I want to take martial arts? The answer was: So I can be a female versionof Jackie Chan, learn some self defense techniques and to finally get my body into shape. There was a kung fu school near my house that I would drive past all the time. I'd peek inside and see large sweaty men kicking and punching each other. I was completely intimidated but forced myself to silently sneak into the school one night and watch the end of an advanced class and the beginning of a beginners class. I liked Mo Duk Pai kung fu because it's well rounded: foot techniques, hand techniques, some grapping, some throws, stick work and knife work. We do some forms but it's not the cornerstone of our style. I love the people I work out with. I just wish we could recruit some more women! There are some nights when I'm the only girl in class. Which is fine because if I'm going to have to use any of these techniques in real life for self defense it's probably going to be against a big burly guy, but sometimes it's nice to practice with someone closer to my own size.

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I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

2003-06-30 12:47 p.m.

It's been a hard couple of weeks. Simon and I have been rather rocky although this weekend was much more a semblance of domestic bliss than we've have in the last six months or so. He's trying very hard to get better and get his life in order. I've come to terms with the fact that I can't help him. There's really nothing more I can do. I find myself getting irritated when people assume we're married and call me his wife. I'm not his wife. I am no one's wife. No one has ever earned the right to call me that. I know, I sound angry. Me-ow. I think turning 35 is getting to me as well. I've got the whole Cinderella stigma going on. On one hand I'm proud that I'm independent, smart, eccentric, intelligent and still a sexy swinging single. Then on the other nefarious hand, I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me that no man wants to marry me? Is it that I'm not pretty enough, sexy enough, smart enough, am I too independent? Am I too untrusting? Do I make bad choices? Am I just a loser? Then I get angry with myself because I should not base my self worth on my marital status. It's just obviously noticible when I'm down to two (female) friends who are single. Two. That's it. One of them is divorced and the other one is much younger than me. Le sigh.

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