The Kittens:
I'll start with Hades, because she is an inside kitten. She is also really a cat, a young lady kat and not a kitten, but The brat and I say kitten, so there! Hades is black with little white feet and eyes that look like glass. She is spoiled rotten and refuses to be ignored. If she feels no one is paying attention to her then she puts herself in the way in a kind of "excuse me, pardon me, love me" type of way. She only drinks water from the faucet and will meow until someone turns it on for her. She also insists on being in the bathroom when anyone is taking a shower. She jumps up on coffee tables and counters with the same little "Tada!" that Seinfeld's Kramer enters a room with. Her favorite toy is a small, soft, ping-pong sized ball with a sprout of feathers sticking out of the top. We like to attach it to a fishing pole and then watch her do back flips over it for hours. She will now sit in front of the fishing pole and meow until you play with her. My kitten is also a young lady cat and is henceforth un-named. She is an outside cat and a HUGE snob. This explains why she is un-named; she refuses to answer to one. I belong to her instead of vice/versa. She hunts like crazy, which upsets my great aunt who feeds her treats in a vain attempt to stop her from killing the birds. She understands what people say about her and has been known to attack anyone who refers to her as fat or "overly-fluffy." She is mostly white with black mask and cape type patches. She is long haired and has beautiful green eyes. The only way to approach her is to not. One must simply sit outside and ignore her until she decides to approach you. She loves to have her belly rubbed and has been known to roll off steps in sheer enjoyment. I spoil her with tuna and milk as my kitten deserves only the best. She is a queen who gives attention and affection only to those who are deserving.... or who happens to be around at the time she wants her belly rubbed. She also loves my feet and will hug them with her paws while rubbing her head against them. God forbid that she and Hades ever live in the same house. I fear the competition for attention would become quite fierce. ~theresa

The Time I Spent with Job:
Today my head is full of thoughts so I just have to write them down, before they drive me crazy. The relationship I had with Job was the first serious relationship I’d ever been in. it started the summer before my junior year in high school... and ended shortly after I started my freshman year of college. And it also seemed to be serious only one side of it... the other being more of a selfish nature. At first he was intriguing: a grunged out skater with very sad brown eyes and a knack for playing the guitar. Although I soon discovered that his greatest talent lay in his ability to always have someone looking after him somehow. He just has this amazing ability to pull and manipulate heart strings and people cater to his every need. It’s quite sickening to see when you are on the outside looking in. And so I lay entrapped, thinking he loved me, and loving him back for all I was worth. Eventually I began to notice things though. For example how it seemed every day he was walking a little more ahead of me than beside, and then one day it was as if I was expected to follow him into the next room if he got up and left without speaking to me. I began to notice that the only time he was in a good natured mood was after smoking enough weed to put a Rasta to shame, that even my attempts at bringing the light of happiness only made shadows in the room. Like a small flickering candle in a cavern of dark. We never watched movies I wanted to see, or ate at a place I wanted to eat at. We never spoke of things I enjoyed, spent time with any of my friends, or listened to music that I liked. I slowly became this extension of him, and he took me for granted as much as what he would his arm or his leg. Probably more like the leg though because oh how he stood upon me. All the time I convinced myself I was happy taking care of him, though whenever I was upset he made my problems seem petty and small. And he milked it for everything it was worth. And when I moved away to college and I couldn't cater to his needs he left, and then came back, and left again. He is now gone, I have banished any feelings of pity for him from my self. He occasionally writes me letters apologizing for his selfish behavior and berating himself with guilt. I think of it as a sham on his part to try and gain him some ounce of pity or sorrow from me. I simply discard them and get on with things. I refer to him as Job here because that is who I’m reminded of every time I hear him speak or read what he has written. Everything is bad news, and oh he does not deserve the hand he was dealt, and so on. He once said, "Its not that I don't believe in God, I do. .... I just don't think he likes me very much" and that is when I decided to call him Job. Self pity is a horrid state of affairs. In any case I do not wish him dead... I wish him only to go away and leave me alone. The brat says it is up to me whether or not he does leave me alone, and I think he is right. The less I let him bother me, the more he fades away. ~Theresa

The Brat:
If i do in fact manage to keep up with this diary thingy, you will probably often hear me speak of "my brat" so i feel it may be slightly important to give him a sort of introduction. The brat will always refer to my beloved Tim. We went to highschool together until he graduated, and sadly enough we never officially met until his senior year, (my sophmore). We ended up in an art class together and at the time i had a thing for his best friend. So naturally he would often wander over to my drawing table and we would have long conversations that we spent mostly discussing our annoyance with our classmates and our common disdain for our teacher, and all the reasons why i shouldn't date his friend. At the time he was a devoted atheist and i, a devout catholic, so we would often write each other letters where we would question each other's chosen religion. we seemed to delight in rooting out each other's doubts and then prodding them with encouragement-sticks. In short we got on rather well, but upon his graduation he moved away and began dating a girl there, and i dated his best friend. we always kept in touch and lied to each other about how great our relationships were getting on. at the end of two and a half years, his girl left him, and he became suddenly aware of how he hated her, as most of us do when dumped. shortly after, his best friend asked me to marry him, we were engaged for two weeks and then he said to me.."i don't love you anymore, it's not you, it's me" i agreed with him.It certainly couldn't be my fault if he didn't love me anymore... after long nights working out our hurt feelings and anger over the computer with one another for company, tim and i decided we meant rather more to each other than friends. surely we were at least GOOD friends. after about six months he decided to move back home, and stopped to visit me on his way. we are now more than good friends and take very good care of one another. He is still a devout atheist, and I, still a devout catholic. We watch movies and love popcorn. We spoil his kitten whose name is Hades, and my kitten who is un-named. We both love eddie izzard and cartoons and we steal each other's clothes for fun. why do i call him the brat? because he bloody well is one. ~theresa

April 13, 2004

the start of yet another diary which i very much doubt i will keep up with. personal description: i am average. brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, a slightly larger nose than i would have picked out, nothing really stands out. i'm not skinny, my brat would call me "voluptuously curvy" or "pleasantly squeazable" i would call me slightly overweight. maybe a bit soft 'round the middle. a geek to the core, i read for fun, play the piano, spend too much time on the computer, and avoid other students at my college. further updates as conditions merit. ~theresa