Two for Tuesday: Movies

Two ducks in Los Angeles 

Last Friday my friend and I saw Coyote vs Acme at the Bella Terra theater in Huntington Beach. (Dinner first at the Cheesecake Factory, which is always delicious, even if you don’t have dessert.) We really liked it! Just good nostalgic fun with no profound messages, except maybe a reinforcement of the thrill of the chase being superior to the catch. (Sometimes.) If you aren’t that familiar with the old cartoons however, you might not find the movie super enjoyable. Apparently, the film was inspired by a 1990 article in the NYT, which you aren’t even allowed to read as a gift article if you don’t have a subscription. Whatever. They suck.

Saturday I went up to Los Angeles in a carpool to see Project Hail Mary with other friends. These peeps have a super big TV screen, so we had the pleasure of that along with the comfort of being in a private home. I’m glad I read Andy Weir’s book first because otherwise I might have been confused at some points, especially during the backstory scenes. I really enjoyed seeing how the alien was depicted onscreen after imagining him via Andy’s words on the page. It was an excellent movie, and we all loved it. I highly recommend the book and the film. 

Unfortunately, my alien-themed cupcakes, while cute, tasted awful. Pillsbury is usually great, but the pistachio cake mix, along with the frosting, was just plain yuck. I don’t understand how they messed up so dramatically, but I had a bad feeling as soon as I opened the box and took a sniff. Since sometimes my sense of smell is off, I made them anyway (baked late Friday night and frosted Saturday morning). I definitely do not recommend this product.

I also saw The Phantom of the Opera musical at the Segerstrom Center in Costa Mesa on Sunday (told you I’ve been busy, not to mention working some OT for month-end). The tickets were a birthday gift from my daughter and son-in-law. We were all unfamiliar with the story, but the singing and costumes were gorgeous, so it was a lot of fun even if we didn’t follow 100% of what was going on. One of my close friends was at the same showing, but her seat was nowhere near us, so we couldn’t chat.

A musical version of The Great Gatsby is scheduled for next May at Segerstrom, and I hope to see that too. I am familiar with this story! I only read the book like five times and watched two versions of the movie. 

Goodbye to Jackie

Jackie the bald eagle from BBV

I admit that I cried when I read about the death of Jackie, the famous bald eagle from Big Bear Valley, California. She died in care last week from various health issues after being rescued following a fight with younger eagles. While the fight didn't cause her death, I wonder if she was attacked because the other eagles sensed weakness. Animals will do that. People too.

I wouldn't say that I bawled over reading the news, but I definitely shed a few tears. It didn't help my mood to see that Jackie was 14, the same age as Gatsby when he died last year of kidney failure. Even though I absolutely adore my precious Inky, and she is probably the sweetest kitty I've ever had, I still miss my spicy little tuxedo guy. Gatsby was my soul-kitty, and we had been through so much together. Some of you may recall that the minute I broke up with Jim in the fall of 2011, the first thing I wanted to do was get a cat (he didn't like animals ~ red flag!). At my younger daughter's request, I waited until winter break when she was home from college so we could visit the shelter together. It's a good thing I did because she was the one who chose Gatsby! I thought I wanted an older female cat, but she bonded with him, and then I did too. She also chose his name ~ I was on the verge of going with Ringo. 

Unfortunately, I don't know how to seamlessly fit balled into this post because I don't want to copy my friend Fandango's hilarious post and say I balled up a tissue to blot my tears when I read about Jackie. I will say that it is always a source of amusement to me when people write balled when they mean bawled. In general, I do not have a 13 year old boy's sense of humor, but there are exceptions. Or at least this one.

Anyway, RIP Jackie. May her mate Shadow and all their offspring live long, happy lives. And may her memory generate respect for bald eagles and their habitats.

~*~

Written for Linda's Stream of Consciousness Saturday (this week hosted by Dan Antion), where we try to use bald, bawled, and balled.

Distractions

Inky inspects the sunflowers (my photo)

The day arrived when

I forgot to remember 

To cry over you

Broken hearts don’t fully mend

But they can get distracted 

~*~

Tanka written for Melissa’s Tanka Tuesday prompt of forgetting and inspired by the memory of my beloved kitty Gatsby.

Gatsby on the Bridge

 

Gift from friends on Gatsby's passing

(This is an imaginary encounter between my darling kitty Gatsby who passed in May of 2025 ~ it would have been his 15th birthday today ~ and another kitty on the rainbow bridge. I wrote it for Missy's Mad Challenge where she asked us to use a particular line in our piece. I italicized the line.)

He wasn’t supposed to be there—but then again, neither was I.

I watched the grey and white tuxedo kitty hesitate on the rainbow bridge, his golden eyes confused and fearful. It was too soon for him, as it had been for me. We had been so well loved and pampered that no one expected us to go this early. Though our humans hadn't known each other, they both said the same thing: "You are going to live forever, sweet baby, or at least until age twenty."

Neither of us made it to 20, or even 15. As my gaze met his, we silently exchanged stories. His name was Gatsby, and his kidneys had failed before his 14th birthday. He had such a happy life with his human, and she was heartbroken as he became sicker, but she told him it was OK to go because he was in pain and could no longer enjoy his life. I had a similar story. I reassured Gatsby that he would be at peace now, and his treasured memory would live on with his human. She would always love him, and in his honor she would give another special shelter kitty a loving home. 

Gatsby began to cross the bridge again, his steps more confident and his eyes bright and alert. I could tell we'd become great friends and play together forever as soon as he finished coming over. 

Maybe we were both exactly where we were supposed to be...

Flashback Friday: Gatsby

Gatsby and me, near the end

I'm participating in Fandango's Flashback Friday today with a post from this blog on May 29, 2025. I had just lost my sweet kitty Gatsby, and the grief was so raw. I still miss my little guy, but now I have Inky to love too. She's a doll. I forgot about that excruciating leg pain from sitting weirdly on the floor to put together my bookshelf. It lasted a long time!

PS: I have even more unread physical books now, but fewer TBR on my Kindle. I have also given up the idea of keeping a series on principle; I keep only the books I love. There just isn’t enough space!

Spoke Too Soon...

Yesterday I mentioned that my headaches have decreased in the past couple weeks; I speculated that this might be because of all the Advil I am taking for my leg pain. Welp, today I have a migraine so there goes that idea out the window. The good news is that finally today my leg is feeling a little better. Maybe a lot better, hard to say. It was super stiff and hurty when I first woke up, but by the time I got to work it felt OK. Still feels OK mid-afternoon. We shall see how it ends up tonight. 

Forgot to say yesterday that I received the sweetest condolence card from the Cat Clinic signed by all the staff and the doctors. Made me cry so hard. I just love them. Loved the peeps at the emergency vet too, but it wasn’t the same because they didn’t know us. They were super kind and gentle ~ I really appreciated them at such a sad time. They also sent a condolence card, but it was for Pistachio. No idea if that’s even a cat since they take doggos there too. Oh well. Sorry for those who love Pistachio… did they get Gatsby’s card? Who knows.

I put the rainbow bridge card from the Cat Clinic on my new bookcase. Definitely a keepsake.

*

I wrote the above yesterday afternoon with the intention of finishing the post last night, but life had other plans. My book club friend S stopped by last night with a bag of gifts. I thought she was delivering prezzies to all the club members, but no. I won’t be able to attend the next meeting due to my granddaughter’s birthday party time conflict, and they had all contributed to memorial gifts for Gatsby, so she brought those by. I keep tearing up over the kindness and generosity of these wonderful women. I posted a pic of the beautiful heart-shaped plaque on IG: it’s a pic of his sweet face with a “forever in my heart” message.

We chatted for a while, and after she left I rearranged my bookshelf to accommodate the new Gatsby-related items I want to display. Then I became obsessed with completing my book inventory and forgot all about this blog post. I am still overwhelmed by how supportive everyone has been over the loss of my little buddy. The grief isn’t linear, and sometimes hours can pass where I’m OK, but then it all hits me again. As I said, I don’t want to forget Gatsby; I welcome the grief and tears. He was such a large, loving part of my life (and his memory still is). He deserves to stay uppermost in my thoughts.

My leg was better last night, but I didn’t sleep well, and it’s pretty sore again this morning. Physical pain isn’t always linear either, though I’m trying to be optimistic. It seems to be improving overall. I’m still being very cautious and babying myself… not that I normally do a whole bunch of jumping around. 

If anyone cares, I have 81 unread physical books in my possession and 104 on my Kindle. That may not sound like a lot to a book lover, but until I joined the online club last fall, I had only a very small pile of unread books on a little shelf because I would read them as soon as I got them. This huge number stresses me out, especially regarding the dead tree books. I need to read them and get rid of them! A few I will keep, but most will be given away or donated. I keep poetry books, nonfiction (that I enjoy), and series. Unlike a Kindle, my home does not have enough space to store a massive quantity of read books!

Pets (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Peppy and me, around 1973

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with P for Pets. 

We adopted Peppy at 8 weeks when we moved to our house in Middletown, New Jersey. She was a cockapoo ~ part cocker spaniel and part poodle. Her coloring was salt and pepper… hence her name. Sadly, she was from a “puppy mill,” but at least she was relatively healthy after a few weeks of meds and care. My mom, despite being a farm girl, did not know how to train a dog nor did we get help with that, so as a result Peppy had some behavioral issues. I loved her bunches, of course.

She had such adorable habits, and one of my favorite memories is when I would come home from dining out with a soft mint in my pocket. Peppy loved those! She knew I would always bring one home for her. She slept in my room, but she preferred the cozy armchair to my bed. Peppy absolutely loved spaghetti and meatballs, so we would give her some whenever we had it, she’d dive right in, and then she needed a bath afterwards. 

Peppy was with us until we moved to Chicago, so she would have been about 8 years old. My mom decided that she should be euthanized because she was “old” and badly behaved. I was horrified! Peppy was a family member as far as I was concerned, and I didn’t care about new furniture or spotless carpeting because I was a teenager and going away to college besides. I told them that I would find a new home for Peppy since they were so heartless. That turned out to be a disaster. Peppy did not adapt to the home I had found, and she bit people, so they kept her outside. We had already moved to the city when I discovered this, and my friend went to pick her up. Peppy ended up at the pound, and it broke my heart. I still feel terrible ~ instead of passing peacefully as my mom would have done for her, she was alone and terrified at the end. The fact that I had good intentions means nothing to me.

Years later, I adopted a stray cat that had been hanging around our office building in Burbank, CA. He was a black and silver kitty, and we named him Henry, for John Henry, the racehorse; my boyfriend at the time was super into horse racing. Henry stayed with us for around a year before succumbing to liver cancer. By that time, we had adopted a second kitty, Tasha, a gold Abyssinian. When Henry passed, we adopted Cyndi, a red Aby. We were dumb and had impulsively bought them from a pet store, which isn’t much better than a puppy mill. Tasha was fine, but Cyndi was chronically sick. She never grew to adult size and stayed around five pounds, though she was cute and not too skinny. She could tolerate only (human) baby food lamb and rice, which Tasha had to eat as well. Cyndi lived about three years.

By this time I had divorced, remarried, and had a baby. I adopted Oscar, a sweet orange kitten who had been picked up at the Burbank studios. He grew to be a very hardy and muscular 18 pounds, but always gentle and sweet. Tasha was sweet too, but super hyper and crazy. She wouldn’t stop escaping, which brought in fleas no matter what we did. My daughter was horribly allergic to flea bites, so I gave Tasha and Oscar away. This also broke my heart, but my baby came first.

She grew out of her allergy, my younger daughter didn't have allergies to animals, and 10 years later Cocoa showed up, waltzed in, and decided she would live with us. It turned out that I really needed a kitty to love, so this was just perfect, and we soon adopted another stray and named her Tiki. (It’s nice for kitties to have a feline friend in the house.) They were both darling, and we all loved them a lot. My ex got custody of Tiki, and she ran away from his new place after a while. Cocoa lived another several years until her arthritis became too hard for her to bear and she quit eating. My daughter and I were with her at the end, when she passed peacefully at the vet’s office via euthanasia.

I took another kitty break after Cocoa, especially because my new boyfriend didn’t like pets (red flag!), and after we broke up in the fall of 2011, my daughter and I adopted Gatsby from the Orange County Humane Society. He was my soulmate kitty and graced me with his cuteness for 13.5 years, until his kidneys failed. I loved him so much. I have a zillion memories of all the funny things he used to do. I even have a little "shrine" set up on my bookcase for him, plus his face in a heart charm necklace. OK, I am a bit extra, yes. Even though pets break my heart when they pass, they also bring so much joy and love into my life. A home isn’t complete without a kitty or doggo, in my view.

Now I have Inky, who is a little doll, black with silver sprinkles, emerald eyes, and the sweetest disposition. I totally adore her!

The Complaint Department

Gatsby, looking peeved (RIPurrs)

I’m taking a little detour from the April A2Z posts to participate in John Holton’s workshop. Here is a list of 10 things I’m currently sick of.

1. You know who. I’m not saying his name, but his ugly bloated face and savagely stupid tweets are in the news 24/7. 

2. People who park right next to me in the open lot at work when it’s 90% empty. I’m not near the elevator. WHY? 

3. Dumbass spam telling me my cloud storage is full.

4. The 800 bazillion snail-mails from every Medicare agent on the planet. I’m all set. GO AWAY! 

5. Random has-been actresses hawking their memoirs. Lady, I didn’t care about you back then when you were on 90210 or whatever, so I certainly don’t care now. 

6. Lazy Amazon deliverers who don’t bring large and/ or heavy packages to the door but instead stuff them into mail parcel boxes. Grrrr!

7. Putting off washing my car because it’s supposed to rain, but then it rains heavily in the night when my car is in the carport, and I just get a splattery drizzle on the way to work, which makes my car look dirtier. Argh!!!

8. The 405 freeway. IYKYK.

9. Books written in first person, present tense.

10. Bananas getting too ripe too fast. I know we’ve discussed this before, and I had a whole IG series about putting aluminum foil on the stems, but it doesn’t really work that well, so I am still dealing with this very important issue. 

Flashback Friday: Second Choices

I’m participating in Fandango’s Flashback Friday today with a post I originally wrote on February 20, 2025. My darling kitty Gatsby passed over the rainbow bridge in May, and I now have sweet little Inky in my life. I no longer watch any Bachelor shows and don’t subscribe to Hulu. I still have not lost the pesky five pounds and still don’t care enough to make much effort. I usually have one large cup of coffee each morning now, which doesn’t seem to make any difference in my sleep or digestion. 

Second Choices and Pointless Meanderings

I changed my mind and resubscribed to Hulu, primarily because my friend C told me that they chose Pascal to be the next Golden Bachelor, and he's adorable and hilarious. The other reason is because I don't much care for the Amazon Prime offerings these days (except for the Mamma Mia movies I purchased and rewatch often sans ads), so I've been watching a ton of Netflix. It'll be nice to have another option. In May, my Hulu deal will end and the price will jump to $9.99/month, so we'll see how I feel about it post-Pascal. I console myself regarding the expenditure by saying that I don't go out to movies much, nor do I even go out to eat the way I used to. It's expensive, and restaurant food is too salty and high in calories/fat. My favorite place to be is home with my kitty Gatsby anyway, and since I don't know how much time he has left, I want to be with him as much as possible. I guess that's true for every loved one, but since he got diagnosed with KD3, I am more aware of the clock ticking.

I was reading about this other reality dating show where they said a woman noped being the second choice after the guy's first choice bailed. I get that. Looking back, I think I was second choice in all of my serious relationships, except maybe one. It's a really crappy feeling; mostly I tried not to think about it, but there were times it was unavoidable. After my divorce, I too noped out of being second. If a guy was hung up on someone else, moaned endlessly about his ex, kept boxes of her photos, forget it. For once in my life, I wanted to feel 100% wanted, and that never happened. Ultimately, I guess my desire for a relationship wasn't that strong post-divorce because being second choice was only one of a zillion red flags. No biggie. Just meandering. It's so nice to make my own plans and keep my own schedule that I can't possibly even imagine sharing that with another person now. I think it would drive me nuts to have to care what someone else wanted for dinner every night. Most nights, I barely eat dinner, and I like it that way. Lunch is king!

I've gained about 5 pounds during the last few years, and I am not happy with the way my body looks, but mostly I don't care. My clothing is flattering, and no one is going to see me without it. I'm not a fan of swimsuits either, though I recently bought a few new ones "just in case." I'd rather just wear shorts and a tee shirt, since I never actually like to go in the water except for my feet. Sometimes I decide I am going to try to lose the 5 pounds; other times I just shrug. I feel like the weight loss will happen though and fairly soon. Why? I don't know. It's just one of those OCD number things that will make me happy. I've given up coffee again, and that seems to be helpful. I sleep better, which is good for overall health and weight control specifically (when you're tired during the day, your brain demands sugar), and my tummy isn't so sour all the time.

I watched Anatomy of a Scandal on Netflix last weekend. It was really good! I enjoyed the acting and the twists and turns of the story. Highly recommend this six-part show.

I slogged through The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami for my 2025 Reading Challenge category of a 600+ page book. Since I've loved almost everything else I've read by him, it was shocking to be so disappointed. This book was a disjointed mess of random characters flitting in and out to tell long, ridiculous backstories as the main character drifted through his own life. He'd lost his job, his wife left him, and his cat ran away. It was like a country song but in Japanese, and I had a hard time caring about him when he was so apathetic and passive. Overall, the book was a giant snooze interspersed with gory war stories and magical realism. Two stars.

So, that book took me over a week to read, not only because it was so long, but also I disliked it yet felt compelled to finish and check it off my list. Next, I will be reading some light, fluffy fun fiction and of course more psychological thrillers, which is becoming my go-to genre over romance. I still love romance novels! But only Regency Romance or anything set before 1900, like the Victoria Holt books. Contemporary romances suck (as I have described previously).

First Reads of 2026

Before I get into the books, I want to say a word (or 500) about stats. As you know, Bob, one of the main reasons I gave up two relatively popular blogs is because I became obsessed with checking my stats. With Ultrablog, my obsession was tracking IPs to try to figure out who was visiting me ~ this rarely works now because peeps use their phones, and the IP and location changes. I also freaked out if a post received way fewer views/ comments compared to my average. With my more recent WP blog, I was obsessed with follower count as well as comments per post. Like many other bloggers, I quit worrying about views per post, as those are meaningless. Fast forward to this blog, where I don’t fuss about any stats whatsoever. I have noticed lately that WP bloggers based in the US and UK are wondering why they get an onslaught of views from places like Hong Kong and Singapore, when they don't have any followers from there. Welp, now that I have been commenting more on those WP blogs, I too am getting views from Hong Kong and Singapore. While my comments here are about the same as they've been all along, averaging only a few per post, my views overall have exponentially increased. What am I going to do about this? Nothing. I assume that the view counts are as meaningless as they've ever been, but I just wanted to feel included.

OK then. Let's start with my first DNF of the year: The Good Daughter by Karin Slaughter. This was one of our three January books of the month, which is the only reason I started it, as I have heard that Karin's books are horrendously gory and violent. Yep, it was horrible ~ technically a thriller, but really more like horror, at least at the beginning. I read about 10 pages or so and gave up. So, I have no idea whether the story is good or if the grossness abated, but I tend to believe not/ not. I won't ever try this author again. Yuck! Here's a thing about trigger warnings: they don't work that well for me because I can handle impossible goriness, such as supernatural shenanigans, but when it sounds realistic, I am out. Karin's sounded real. When I read, I picture what I am reading throughout the book, so those disturbing images stay with me. The ones from TGD are still kind of floating around my mind a bit.

The first book I read for the year was A Cat Abroad by Peter Gethers. I read his first Norton book, The Cat Who Went to Paris, six years ago and loved it. Then for some odd reason I skipped the second book in the trilogy and went straight to the third: The Cat Who'll Live Forever. This was also great, though as you might guess from the title, heartbreaking as well. It hasn't been that long since Gatsby died, so even thinking about that third book makes me cry. Recently, as I was (obsessively) rearranging my physical bookshelves, I realized that I had never read the second book, so I ordered a used copy. I loved it, though not quite as much as I loved the other two books because it’s very travelog-y, as one might expect. Since I have never been to Europe nor do I know any French, many of the funny moments don't do much for me. And not to be mean, but I don't have much (or any) sympathy for the travel mishaps of people who have gobs more money than I do. I can smile at the petty ironies and minuscule woes of their lives, but do I really care? Nah. Norton's behavior is still adorable however. Four stars (the other two received five each). This counts as a memoir on my genre hop list.

I am still teary over a novel I finished this morning: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. It begins very slowly, and I might have DNF'd it except that a couple peeps in my book club loved it. So, I kept going and am sure glad I did! Nora, the MC, is a whiny, sad sack of a person, and I didn't relate to her all that much, at first. The premise is that after she tries to commit suicide she hovers in a state between life and death where she visits a fantasy library that contains all the stories of her life that might have been as well as a huge tome of regrets. As Nora chooses other lives to slip into, she's guided both practically and philosophically by her old primary school librarian (the one person from her past who had shown her unconditional kindness). As Nora's epiphanies accumulate, I begin to resonate with them, especially the ones about living to please other people. Whether struggling to keep a straight A average for my mom or to be accepted by my peers or to find a boyfriend, my earlier life was also dominated by the need to receive praise from others. My first paragraph about blog stats is a good example. I internalized all this dreck to such an extent that I felt guilty when not writing a bestselling book while working full time. Why can't I do more? Other people do more. Why can't I achieve any level of socially blessed success, blah blah blah. Anyway, TML explores these ideas plus the obvious conclusion that being yourself is enough. Going after your own dreams is not selfish. Relinquishing old dreams and being content with what you have (where I am now) is just fine too! None of these are radical concepts, but Haig presents them in a fresh and emotionally relevant way, so TML received five stars from me. It also counts as a fantasy book on my genre hop list.

Speaking of the genre hop challenge, it's not my intention to complete the entire list the first quarter. I may expand the categories into subgenres or simply read two or more from each. While A Cat Abroad counts as a memoir, it's not a biography, so I will try to find one of those I might enjoy (the category is biography/ memoir). Also, I noticed at the bottom of the hop list is a bonus category to reread five favorite books, which I may do too. The whole point is to read books I love, and if I can't give a book three or more stars, I probably should consider tossing it in the DNF pile. Of course, sometimes I'm digging a book and then get really annoyed at the ending, so there's that. 

Hope your new year is going swimmingly so far ~ mine is, literally, with all this rain. Back to the office tomorrow I go, hi ho, hi ho.

PS: I found a way to add a DNF shelf to my Goodreads without it marking the book as "want to read," which was so annoying. I had to do it from my laptop. Apps aren't always all that and a bag of chips.

PPS: Nope. Goodreads insists on marking my DNFs as "read," which wrecks my count. I have deleted the DNF shelf once again.

Let's Make It a Very Good Year

I lost my sweet kitty Gatsby last May, so that alone made 2025 one of the worst years ever. Inky came into my life soon afterward, which made things a lot better. The year ended on a very sour note in December with ID theft shenanigans that totally stressed me out, but it could have been worse. There are positive aspects to being OCD and constantly checking stuff. My family had a bunch of seasonal sickies and other unfortunate incidents recently, and I’ve been feeling bad for all of them as well (not to mention not seeing them much). I'm looking forward to an overnight visit soon with my eldest and her hubs and to my littlest grandson's special three-year-old birthday party next month. So… overall, a mixed bag, as life often is.

My goals for 2026 are to be much more intentional and mindful. I know that sounds like new-age barf, but it is what it is. Previously, I noted that I plan to read fewer and better books and abandon poorly written dreck much faster. Sure, I still plan to enjoy plenty of genre romances and thrillers, but only those that zing with me. Besides reading, other activities that need more mindfulness are snacking, grabbing “lazy meals” (as opposed to getting/ making something healthier), spending money on junk, scrolling depressing news, etc. Even sitting in a chair requires mindful behavior if I don't want to end up with a stiff neck or achy shoulders after slumping or being crooked for hours. Sometimes I forget to recognize pain until it’s really bad.

I'm already more intentional about writing/ blogging, which shows that habits can be changed. Many times I begin a post to a prompt (I am still aware of them even though I rarely participate), and I realize that my idea sucks, so instead of continuing just to have a post, I abandon it. What a relief to be able to give myself permission to dump a bad idea! Instead of writing 30 crappy poems a month as I used to, nowadays I may write one decent one. (At least I think my newer ones are decent anyway.) This blog feels like a fun hobby not a dreaded chore like my other one became at the end. As far as writing more books, meh, I am not feeling the need, though that could change later on, who knows. I get wisps of ideas, but they float away like dandelion fluff, which is for the best while I’m still working full time and need sleep. (I cannot believe how much sleep I used to forgo in order to write!)

Rediscovering my love for jigsaw puzzles has been a happy experience, and as long as I pay attention to how I am sitting/ standing while doing them, all is good. I have several very pretty ones lined up to begin in the coming months. Not sure if I will return to painting or not. I have the supplies, but I am not feeling the drive.

Last night I had a fabulous time at a friend’s NYE party hanging with a whole bunch of cool peeps, and that was a great way to kick off 2026. We played a new (to me) game called Poetry for Neanderthals, which is similar to Taboo, except you can only use one-syllable words. I loved it so much that I immediately ordered one from Amazon, which was extremely intentional. LOL! Hey, my first purchase of the new year is a game, and I’m good with that. 

Inky weighed exactly 10 pounds this morning, so she is doing a great job in maintaining her half-pound loss. Maybe we can reduce a smidge more in the next few months before her two-year checkup in April. I haven’t lost anything, but that’s OK for now. It’s not so much the number for me as focusing on healthier meals and more exercise, though a lower number always makes me happy because OCD.

Alrighty then. Let’s do this thing!

Happy October

Welp, Inky and I are officially on a diet. I took her to the vet Monday for her first checkup, and as soon as I picked up her carrier I thought… hmm, there seems to be a lot more cat here than when I brought her home three months ago! She’s gained two and a half pounds, which is a significant amount for a small-framed kitty. Vet says she should be around 9 even, so we will aim for that. Since my weight has crept up too, it’s the buddy diet system for us. Solidarity! Today I began a new blog to document our progress, but I’ve kept it private for now. I might decide to rant about other stuff in there, who knows.

I do enjoy Inky's pudgy-wudginess, particularly because Gatsby became so thin at the end. Her extra padding makes me happy that she's a healthy creature and will hopefully be around a good long time. But that's selfish. Inky should be at the right weight for her optimal health, so we will get back there. She is so vibrant, and her fur is so soft and shiny. She loves to play now and has her favorite toys, one of which (feather wand) she likes to bring into our bed every night. It's too cute!

Anyway. The disgusting heat wave is over, TG, and I have a lot of social activities planned for October. Hopefully, my migraines will get the memo and stay away (I did have to take meds this morning, boo). I’m back into jigsaw puzzles! They’re such a great way to relax and zone out from the news and all the yuck online. (I guess I'm trying to do a bit of dieting regarding social media and the news as well as the traditional food restrictions. Gotta take care of my mental/ emotional health too!) I created a method to cover them when I am not actively working on them, so the pieces won't get disturbed by kitty curiosity, but it’s a clunky system. I have this cool plastic tray table with drawers and a cover in my Amazon cart, which I hope goes on sale next week during Prime Days; I will buy it either way. 

My memories of working on puzzles with my mom are of the 1500-2000 piece ones, but those are too big for my table. I have found that even a 1000 piece puzzle is a big commitment for one person to do alone, especially if it's not an "easy" puzzle with distinctive areas. I'm working on one right now that's a bear (not an actual bear), but I like it, so I will finish it, even if it takes me two weeks. The tray table I want to buy is only for 1000 pieces or fewer (a few brands have the "wrong" dimensions, so I will need to pay attention to that if I buy new 1000 piece ones), and my thinking at the moment is that I probably will stick with 500 piece puzzles. There seem to be more of them, and they're not so overwhelming. It's infinitely easier to have a puzzle buddy for the larger ones, but there's just me doing them now. I am not a puzzle prodigy, a la the movie Puzzle ~ I'm a puzzle plodder. If I get a dozen or so pieces in one short session, then that's a win. That's a great movie, btw. I hope to watch it again someday.

I'm enjoying the (slightly) cooler weather and pumpkin spice everything. I don't even mind the earlier dark. Off to do some aerobic exercise!

Malibu Chicken

Back in Illinois, my college boyfriend S used to nag me about my eating habits in various ways, despite the fact that he was pretty odd about food himself. He would only eat a half dozen or so things and never vegetables or fruit: meat, potatoes, bread, mac & cheese, corn flakes, etc. I didn't care what he ate or didn't eat, but one thing that bothered him a lot is if I ordered a drink and didn't finish it. Why? Who knows! Psycho, of some indeterminate kind (there are other reasons besides food that I say this). Anyway, we went to the Sizzler for dinner once, and I ordered the Malibu Chicken (a small chicken patty with a slice of ham and melted cheese on top). I wasn't sure I liked it, which made him get super critical. Why did you order a weird thing like that? Why are you still eating it if you aren't sure it's good? Etc. It was so annoying! Obviously, this conversation had a big emotional impact on me as I remember it so clearly 40+ years later.

Sunday I was invited to have lunch and play games at the local Sizzler. I hadn't been to a Sizzler since my 20s, and naturally I immediately thought of my bad date with college boyfriend. Malibu Chicken was still on the menu, so of course I had to order it. I liked it! Very tasty, and a nice small portion so not horribly unhealthy (I had veggies for my side). As far as games, we played my Monopoly Deal card game, Flip 7, and Rummikub. I would have played Ticket to Ride too, but I didn't want to sit there for another hour or more since my back was achy. Even though restaurants can be noisy and the chairs sometimes uncomfy, it's nice to find a new venue for games ~ it's not practical for me to invite a large group of people to my place, especially now that Inky lives here. She's definitely not as social as Gatsby was! I'm not complaining; I love her exactly how she is.

I read Again the Magic by Lisa Kleypas and gave it four stars. It read like a Regency romance, but it is not one because it takes place mainly in the 1840s, and, strictly speaking, a Regency romance must be set in the period of 1811-1820 during the time of the Prince Regent, George IV. There can be a bit of leeway, but the '40s is too far. Anyway, I enjoyed the strong MC's and engaging plot. It’s so great to dive into a properly written book with past tense third person narration and no head hopping. ATM had loads of vivid description and witty dialog, and most of the side characters were pretty well rounded too. The themes of self-confidence and loyalty/ betrayal were threaded throughout, and I thought it was very well done. I didn't give it more than four stars though because, ultimately, it was just a romance without anything deeper; soon it will settle into the marshy recesses of my mind where I will forget most of it. Four stars from me is a great rating though! To get five, a book has to be something really special and memorable. 

Last weekend I began watching The Morning Show on Prime and am about five episodes in (there are four seasons, so if I keep going, it will take a while to finish). I liked it a lot at first, but now I'm getting a little bored. This coming Sunday I have tickets to see Downton Abbey, The Grand Finale, and I am stoked! That was one of my most favorite series ever.

Our heat wave is over, hurrah.

Love Saves the Day

Our book club leader challenged us to read and review two novellas in addition to our three August books of the month, so naturally I decided to read the novellas first because they're shorter. The first one I chose was Shamrock Kisses by Serena Pier (103 pages). This book is the third in a series of six mini-romances featuring a group of friends located in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. A bar called "High Five" serves as a motif throughout the series along with holiday themes, this one obviously being St. Patrick's Day. I found this book first (you don't have to read them in order), maybe because I love Inky's green eyes, though at times they appear golden (and in some old pics Gatsby's look greenish, go figure!), and if I liked it I would read the rest and if not, not. Welp, it's a not, sadly. This story basically has no plot whatsoever. Patrick meets Rachel, and they're both very attracted to each other. They meet up the next day at the High Five to begin flirting and dancing and smooching, et cetera. Except for the fact that Patrick lives in Chicago (but he can go remote), there is no obstacle at all put in the way of the couple's togetherness. They discover all kinds of cool things about each other, become even more attracted, and everything proceeds smoothly. Isn't that great? Yawn. Two stars.

The second book is 186 pages but is still considered a novella: Wrong Number by Daphne Leigh. This one contains very witty, very sexy banter (much of it via text), which is a welcome relief after the cringe convos throughout Shamrock. Honestly, I was a bit envious of Sarah, since James was the type of man I had hoped to meet back in my dating daze. He is confident, happy, witty, expressive, emotionally available, doesn't pretend to be too cool or busy to focus on one person, employed, etc. But then Sarah and James meet for a real date and everything goes to hell. To portray the heroine’s nervousness, the author has her tripping nonstop over her own feet and spilling drinks, not just once but over and over. So annoying and ridiculous. The relationship moves way too fast for no reason, though at least there are some emotional obstacles on her part to overcome, unlike in the Shamrock story. It would have been nice if James also had some kind of character arc or if there was some outside impediment to their togetherness. This could have been so much better. Oh well. Three stars. 

Note: both of these books are pretty high in “spice” aka explicit sex, not that any of you will likely read them to begin with!

For my in-person book club meeting next Sunday afternoon we have chosen the book Love Saves the Day by Gwen Cooper. This novel made me so angry! The reason is because this could have been a great book, a five-star book for sure, but the idiotic, mixed-up chronology is beyond irritating. Why can't contemporary writers just tell their stories straight? LSTD is all over the damn place timewise, and on top that, half the narration is from "the cat" (Prudence) in present tense. I don't mind this if it's done well and/ or if there's a small amount of it, but it isn't done well, and there is a lot of it. Granted, there are some funny/ cute moments, such as when Prudence speculates that Josh may be off-balance because he shaves his whiskers every day, but much of her narration is repetitive. The bones of an excellent novel are hidden beneath the fluff and silliness, and I became angrier at Gwen for hiding those bones than I would be at a lesser writer. She's a good writer! She could have begun this tale with Sarah's interesting life and proceeded chronologically to her daughter Laura's story, including all the gritty parts about how hard it is to live in NYC if you're not wealthy and the stuff about real estate and evil developers, etc., and perhaps incorporated some kitty input once in a while. Argh! Three stars. I'll probably read it again at some point and possibly fling on an extra star, but right now I am really tired of time jumping.

Speaking of cats, Inky is so mad at me right now because I brushed her and put a cute, blingy collar on her sweet little neck. She pretended she was over her snit when I offered her a bite of cheese (she adores cheese), but then she went right back to pouting in her cubby. 

Midafternoon Musings

[I began this post midafternoon, but only wrote one paragraph. I finished it later at night.]

I stopped watching Dept. Q because it was nonstop downersauce. The acting was great, but every aspect of the various storylines was depressing, especially the one where a woman was being tortured for years. In a weird way, the realistic vibe worked against it for me. I would rather discover a show that’s darkly fun and completely unbelievable (like Manifest) as opposed to a series like Q that feels as if it could have happened.

IDK... I get that it's important to learn and grow from art, to expand one's perspective, etc., but I still come back to the fact that real life is depressing enough (my god, have you seen the news? nonstop horror!), and so I would like my entertainment to be, well, entertaining. I want love and romance and music and fun, not death and despair and torture and disasters. Ugh. And, as I noted above, if something is dark, then let it be a fantasy rather than something trying to mirror reality. That's just me.

Honestly, I think I might start watching the Christmas romcoms again in August. Those are guaranteed to be silly and upbeat. The great thing about them is that there are always new ones with new twists, but they all have a happy ending.

I read The Sublet by Greer Hendricks (short mystery) and gave it only two stars. I have nothing much to say about it other than it didn't interest me. I also read The Legend of the Seventh Virgin by Victoria Holt (historical romance novel) and gave it five stars. Yeah, from one extreme to the other. This was probably my favorite (or at least one of) VH's books. It was so involved, with such impressively complex characters and interesting (unexpected) twists. Just wow. I am so impressed by VH the more I reread her, especially compared to other more contemporary authors who don't dive deeply into their characters.

It's now past the date (July 27) when I can "return" Inky and trade her for another kitty without paying a new fee, and I can't even imagine. I already love her so much and consider her a family member. She is so sweet and adorable with the cutest quirks. I'm so happy we found each other! Yes, I still miss Gatsby and always will. He remains in my heart with my mom and others I have loved.

This week I am enjoying Substack more and Bluesky less. We'll see if that continues.

This and That

This week has been busy, with a bunch of ups and downs, which is why I haven't blogged, even though I can't wait to tell you that Inky is now a big cuddler! She is soooo sweet and affectionate and even sleeps on my bed with me during part of the night. She's curled on my lap right now and purring as I'm typing. I haven't forgotten about Gatsby, my soulmate kitty, and I will always love him, but Inky is helping to heal my heart. I love her too and think about her when I'm at work; my condo feels like a home again now that I have a sweet kitty waiting for me.

Today is my divorce anniversary (the second divorce; I don't remember the exact dates my brief first marriage began and ended). Fourteen years ago today, July 11, the dissolution of my 21 year marriage (plus two years of legal separation) was finalized, which was a huge relief. For five years afterward, I tried to find someone new, and I stayed pretty optimistic about my chances until 2016. That's when I started to accept the idea that a new romantic relationship wasn't going to happen and it would be better to stop dating altogether, as the process was increasingly depressing. It took a couple years longer for me to feel fully comfortable being single and not looking.

I have made a new Substack account: lightmotifs.substack.com. Please follow me and I will follow you back. The reason I made an account is because one of my writing friends invited me to contribute to his poetic series on the body, and I wrote a poem about hair. It turned out well, and he is going to publish it on his Substack soon. I didn't have to make my own account to get credited, but why not? Maybe I will be in the mood to write more poetry on my own stack (or whatever you call the pages there). Last time I joined, I found it confusing and way too political, so I deleted my account, but every form of social media is stuffed with politics 24/7, so I have to take responsibility for avoiding it and focusing on what I do enjoy (same with Bluesky). That said, my first comment on the app was about Pete B (love him). LOL!

(I still find the app confusing, btw. When I logged on, it said hey how about these four friends we found for you? I said, OK, I will follow them all, but now they have disappeared. What's up with that?)

I read The House of a Thousand Lanterns by Victoria Holt and gave it four stars. It's a romance mystery novel, and I found both aspects very intriguing. A chunk of the book takes place in Hong Kong, and the local color was fabulous. I have no idea whether it was accurate, but I enjoyed it regardless. 

Earlier in the week I finished The Weight of Blood by Tiffany Jackson, a horror novel and an homage to Carrie by Stephen King. I wasn't sure at first if I would like this book because it's partly told in podcast format (which is apparently a "thing" now), but I did like it ~ I gave it four stars! The story involves a lot of racism and cruelty and some fantasy elements as well. 

Finally, I read The Only One Left by Riley Sager. Shades of Verity abound in this psychological thriller about a caregiver, Kit, who who is "forced" to take a job working for an alleged murderer at the crazy mansion on the edge of the cliff. Everyone in the story is a potential or actual murderer or victim, and though the story is basically well written, I found the pacing tedious at times. I kept wondering why Kit simply didn't walk away from the mess and begin again somewhere else where people didn't know her. The ending was so convoluted that I gave up trying to understand what motivated everyone to do what they did. Three stars.

Inky

I read Below the Surface by Tina Transformation and gave it only two stars. It was a standalone novella in a series called "Devastation," and I don't plan on reading any more books in the series. The narrative was confusing with alternating POVs of a "watcher" and a "stranger" (who were not the same person but sounded like they could have been), and for a while it was unclear whether either/ both was male or female. They weren't given names until several chapters in, just to make things more unnecessarily befuddling for the reader, but after that they were still sometimes called the original names. The reason for all this subterfuge was to keep the identity of the murderer under wraps, but it had to be either the watcher or the stranger because the book was only 100 pages long! At times, the disappearances of the women at Yellowstone seemed to verge on the supernatural, but ultimately this was just a normal psycho thriller. The two main characters met via a dating app which matched them, but even that was annoying because while every detail of their emotional landscape was documented in the narrative, the sexual encounters were strictly behind closed doors, so we never got to see their feelings while they were actually together. The ending was a letdown, basically "oh, it's him," ho hum.

Since I have already read over 100 books this year, there's no point in continuing to update that Reading Challenge with new arbitrary categories, so I won't. You lucky readers, you won't have to hear about the 2025 Challenge any longer! 

Occasionally I have some issues with my eyes and one or both gets all red and itchy and gross. That has occurred this week to my right eye, so I figured it was a good opportunity to give an audiobook another chance and rest my eyeballs. Most of the books I have downloaded for my Kindle do not show a free audio option however (I do not want to join the program for a fee), except for one by Dean Koontz, but every time I try to grab the audio file it shows an error. Oh well. Instead, I watched a romcom called My One True Love, where the entire premise was that a fortune teller with an accent told the heroine that her soulmate's name was "John" but she really meant "Sean," and this was obvious immediately, but we had to watch the MC date a whole bunch of Johns until she figured it out. In the movie's favor was that the heroine actually cared about more things in life, particularly her career, than finding a man, though she did go along with her friends who wanted her to go on at least one date with every man named John that they could find.

*

Oh, this morning I adopted an adorable small black kitty with green eyes and named her Inky. She's a little over a year old and very shy. She's mostly been staying under my bed and occasionally poking her head into the living room where I am watching TV. When she sees me looking at her, she scampers back to safety, though she did venture into the closet at one point and knocked over a pile of leggings. It's nice and quiet and peaceful here, so hopefully soon she will feel secure enough to hang out with me. She must be hungry, but so far she hasn’t been tempted by food. I'm sure she will gobble some after I'm asleep tonight. I don't expect her to be a "dog-cat" like Gatsby was; Inky was on the streets and probably already gave birth, so she might need a lot of time to feel safe. Her medical records show she wasn't doing great when they brought her in on May 16, but she's fine now, as far as we know. Since we don't know her birthday (likely April 2024), we'll just celebrate her gotcha day every year on June 27. I'm not going to pester her with photos until she's more comfortable with me ~ I will let you all know when I've posted some to Instagram.

Happy to have a kitty in my house again even if she's completely silent for now.

Creme de Menthe

I have been brainstorming names for cats, since I plan to have one adopt me soon (wonder what she will name me?). Mostly I imagine getting a pure sleek black cat and focus on dark names like Raven and Nyxie and Nori (as in Noir, not seaweed), though there may not be a black cat available when I go to the shelter, so I need alternatives. I see that at the moment on their website there are female brown/ white/ orange kitties in the age range I would like, so I am gathering potential names for them. 

I like the name Confetti or Cupcake for a mixed color cat (AI suggestions), and I also thought of Sundae or Parfait, the latter of which reminds me of the creme de menthe parfaits I loved as a kid. Back in those days, it was no biggie for a child to have alcohol in a restaurant with their parents. These days, you can buy your kid a gun but not a beer, not that I want to get into politics here. The bigger question is why the heck did I like creme de menthe? It’s hideous! It tastes like melted toothpaste. If I had some now, I would barf. Well, most alcohol makes me barf, sadly, along with triggering a migraine. Ah, the days of wine and… more wine and fireballs and margaritas and mojitos and Bailey’s. You can keep the roses.

Anyway, I’m going to find my next soulmate kitty at the same place I met Gatsby (Orange County Animal Shelter). Whichever sweetie is there and connects with me next Friday will be The One. No more sketchy stuff with posts on forums about demented neighbors, powers of attorney, dead nephews, etc. I don’t want the adoption to be questioned.

I still miss Gatsby terribly; sometimes when I’m about to fall asleep I feel a little bump like he just jumped on the bed for a snuggle. I loved him so much.

*

The Reunion Dinner by Jesse Sutanto was a fun short story with a nice twist at the end, and I gave it four stars. I created a challenge category for it: takes place in one day. It’s fun to create my own categories after the fact, knowing that my reads are not “going to waste” but instead will help me get to 100 books faster. Well, actually I am already over 100 books for the year, but I didn’t think of adapting the challenge to the books (like a Procrustean bed) until this week.

Slow Burner by Laura Lippman had a similar ending, but the twist was so much fun that I had to give it the full five stars. It was also a short, quick read. For this, I created another challenge category: involves a Greek myth. How the peacock’s tail feathers got their “eyes” is one of my favorites.

Next up is Ushers by Joe Hill, a fun short story, though a bit predictable at the end as horror often is. Four stars for the clever interview format and for keeping my interest throughout. My self-created challenge category for this one is: author’s parent is a famous writer. Joe Hill is the son of Stephen King. (I enjoyed Joe’s debut novel Heart-Shaped Box years ago.)

Another recent shorty was A Holiday by Gaslight by Mimi Matthews ~ this one was a romance novella. The romance was meh, but the historical aspects were very interesting (and I dived into them further after finishing the book), so I awarded this book three stars. The title refers to the actual history of gas lighting in England, not to the psychological tactic of “gaslighting.” I didn’t have to create a category here, since it fit into the requirement of taking place during the holidays.

* 

I finished Sirens on Netflix ~ only five episodes total. It became more enjoyable as it went on, which had a lot to do with the increased screen time of Kevin Bacon, and I recommend it.

I also rewatched The Hating Game just because. It’s on Hulu. Speaking of Hulu and romance, I am completely over the Bachelor franchise. The last couple I rooted for broke up recently, as most of them do, and it’s starting to feel like a scam. Contestants audition for Bachelor Nation shows to become famous and get exposure for their Instagram accounts, it seems, not to find true love. The whole concept of “influencing” makes me gag. Get a real job!

Friday the Thirteenth

Hopefully it’s not an unlucky day for anyone reading. Today has been OK for me, but since Wednesday I have been fighting a horrible migraine. Same deal as the one that wrecked me last Thursday when I stayed home from work ~ but at least that one disappeared in a day, while I am on day three of this one, though (crossing fingers) it seems to have abated somewhat. It may have been triggered by eating red grapes on Wednesday ~ I didn’t know that they’re a trigger (now I do after googling), but it makes sense given how I react to red wine. Or it could have been something else entirely. It's usually hard to pinpoint a cause precisely, since so many factors make up a given day. Per a coworker's suggestion, I now have an ice gel pack in the office freezer for the next one. Fun times.

I'm still grieving Gatsby, but I have made progress in the emotional process of adopting a new kitty. It will happen in the next few weeks because I am too lonely without a cat at home. It's not "cheating" on him to love another kitty; in fact, it honors his memory. There are so many who need a good home, but I'm only one person and can only help one at a time. Given my age, this next cat could be the last cat I am able to help directly.

*

I am officially bored with Bluesky (Bsky) and the repetitive political comments and memes (even if I agree with them). I could make more of an effort to find alternative feeds (I already regularly check poetry and zoos), but I guess I prefer Facebook after all and updates from those folks I have known for years. I don't feel the need for more friends in meatspace or online, so it's true I make minimal effort and then I go blah dullsville. But so what. What's the great loss if I don't spend time on a particular platform? Uh none.

I do enjoy this blogging "lite" life because I don't feel any obligation to post. I write only when I want to, unlike on my WordPress blog where I felt compelled to post constantly and read all the posts in my feed. As far as "real writing," I am finally over it, both the desire to write new fiction or poetry and the nagging sensation of having unfinished WIPs. What a relief! (Same goes for painting/crafting.)

I'm still puzzled at the hatred people have toward Meghan Markle: they lie in wait for articles about her and then spew vicious comments. It's deeply weird. Then again, I never did understand hate-following or doom-scrolling. When I can't stand something or someone, I try to block it out of my life in hopes of never encountering it again. 

*

Tonight I went grocery shopping with the idea of staying inside my condo all day tomorrow, June 14, when people are going to take to the streets to protest our horrible POTUS and his birthday celebration as he throws himself a ridiculously wasteful and grotesque military parade in DC. Nothing like trying to dump poor folks off Medicare while spending $100M on an ego-fest. Though I can't stand the POTUS, I don't want to get involved with any political protesting or be anywhere near any kind of drama.

I had just begun exercising again when this migraine hit on Wednesday, so hopefully I will get back to it tomorrow. I'm also prepping for the new kitty and have bought a covered litterbox, a soft fluffy bed, and other necessities as well as a little bit of generic type food until I know what she likes. You know how you can feel a "ghost" when memories float in? Well, I not only feel Gatsby's ghost, but also I sense the presence of my future kitty.

I've started a new show on Netflix called Sirens. It's pretty good. Would be better with more Bacon scenes.

This week I finished two books: No Place Like Home, a mystery by Mary Higgins Clark (three stars), and The Hating Game, a romance novel by Sally Thorne (four stars). The first had an interesting plot and a great twist toward the end, but I couldn’t relate to the MC at all. Plus there were too many POVs and tense flips. The romance novel was different and clever with witty banter and well rounded characters. There were several interesting side characters as well.

A Bajillion Kitties

I visited a cat rescue "lounge" yesterday, where for $20 you can hang out with a whole bunch of kitties as long as you please. I stayed 2.5 hours, and though it was great to meet and greet a bajillion sweet furballs, I didn't feel that special connection with any cat in particular. It was sort of like how I used to imagine speed dating: I can't precisely explain what I want, but I'll know it when it happens. One of the owners asked me what I was looking for, and I explained about Gatsby... then I said I didn't want to create a shopping list for a new kitty. Each one should be appreciated for its own individual self. However, since there were so many available, I had to start somewhere, so I kinda sorta made a list. Female. Around 2-3 years old. Doesn't look like Gatsby (no tuxies). Even with that, there were probably a half dozen to choose from.

When I'm faced with too many options, I generally shut down and choose nothing, which is what I did... but I think I will fill out their adoption application online and return at some point to make a decision. It's nice to live in a fur-free home as far as less vacuuming, and it's nice not to be awakened by night yowls at 2AM; on the other hand, it's horribly lonely not to have a kitty to talk to and cuddle with. My housemate and my daughters think I should adopt a new one. 

*

I'm caught up on the second season of Nine Perfect Strangers. It's not as interesting as S1 because we already know that part of the "treatment" program is to micro-dose the patients with LSD, so there's nothing to discover there, and the family dramas aren't as compelling this time around. I may continue watching because I like Nicole Kidman plus the S2 cast, or I may not. We'll see. There's so much to watch and read. 

I read The Tenant, a psychological thriller by Freida McFadden. It was a fast read, full of twists, and I gave it three stars, but it was very shallow as far as character development and motivations. There was no one likable in the entire novel, which ends up being the case in many books of this type. Everyone is unethical and/or covering up a crime and/or motivated by a single selfish desire, whatever. It just comes down to how well the story is told as far as the drama and secrets. This one was relatively enjoyable, but it's already slipping into the mush of the genre. I crossed off the 2025 Reading Challenge box for a book released in 2025.

The above isn't to be confused with The Quiet Tenant by Clemence Michallon, another thriller I gobbled up this week (this one for my online book club), which I counted as “by an up and coming author” for the 2025 Reading Challenge. I didn't care for this book and gave it only two stars. The first issue I had with it is that the author chose second person narration for most of the chapters. This is super hard to pull off, and she did not do a great job of it. I understand that it was the victim's technique to distance herself from the terrible things that were happening to her, but regardless if you can't do it well, don't do it. To confuse matters further, CM wrote some chapters in first person from the POV of other characters. We never got the POV of the most interesting character however, which was the serial killer's. Victims are boring! I have read a zillion fictional victims' stories now, and they are of a samey sameness. Let's hear what the killer has to say, what motivates this sicko, how he so precisely plans his brutal acts. It's interesting that these guys are at the mercy of their violent, churning impulses, yet (the successful ones) are so careful and logical, which helps them evade capture for many years.

Next (or actually previously) is The Push by Ashley Audrain, which also received two stars from me. This is a mystery type novel, mostly in an epistolary narration format, via a "letter" a woman writes to her ex-husband. She attempts to explain herself, her mother, grandmother (the latter two from snippets of overheard conversations when she was a child), feelings, motivations, etc., all to make her point that the daughter they share is an evil demon who killed other children, including their son. The reader isn't sure how much of this to believe because the narrator seems unreliable (yay, another category checked off on the challenge) ~ at many points, she questions her own beliefs and perceptions. This could have been interesting, but alas it wasn't. One example is when the protagonist was in agony over how much it hurt to breastfeed. Well, you know what? She could have switched to formula and bottles as opposed to developing a vicious hatred toward her own baby. The baby cried a lot when she was alone with her mother, which made sense when she wasn't feeling any love or comfort from her. Also, some babies cry a lot. Treating them like they're a monster might very well turn them into one, who knows. When I dislike the MC, it's very difficult for me to care what happens.

Finally (or first), I plowed through A Good Girl's Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson. This is a suspense novel of the old "whodunit" type with lots of suspicious characters and a teenage girl who is smarter than all the people who previously investigated the crime. She has a gay bestie, which has now become a cliche. I enjoyed this fast-paced novel and gave it three stars, though the final explanation of the details of the murder and coverup is preposterous. The fact that all these people reveal so much to this annoying girl is also ridiculous, but the story gallops along nicely and held my interest. AGGGTM fit the young adult challenge category in the 2025 Reading Challenge.

That's all.

Happy Birthday Mommy

Today would have been my mother’s 94th birthday. Her side of the family has had many long-lived folks, so it wasn’t unreasonable for me to assume that she would have been one of them. But she only made it to 76, passing on April 13, 2008, less than two months shy of her 77th birthday. I remember the day of her pan-can diagnosis (December 5, 2007) and how I cried so hard I could barely see to drive home.

Sometimes I forget to think about my losses (Mom and Dad and Gatsby). Other times they crash over me and feel fresh and raw, as though they just happened today. To be honest, I loved my father, but I don’t miss him that much. I miss my mother terribly though, and of course I am still crying over my little buddy, since it’s only been a few weeks. My daughter sends me pics of adorable kitties at the shelter where she volunteers, and I would love any of them, but it’s too soon. I want to feel that magical connection, but I need more distance (temporally) before that can happen.

On the upside, I never cry over any lost/failed romances these days. Not sure what happened there, but whatever craziness used to compel me to pursue relationships of that kind has completely disappeared. In fact, when my friends talk about dating, etc., I am detached from any desire. I used to feel so lonely, which is what motivated me to keep searching, against all odds of ever finding what I needed, especially via online dating. Nowadays I wouldn’t want to start anything even if I met someone; the idea of a relationship is too emotionally exhausting.

That guy I dated in 2016 who kept pestering me via text for months afterwards to dispense new criticisms has vanished once again. If you recall, he emailed months ago to bitch that I closed my Wordpress blog. I never gave him the address to this Blogger one, and idk if you can get to it via googling. Though it’s public, I checked off all boxes about not indexing it and whatever. I no longer have any delusions that some publisher or dream man will find me via my writing and prefer to stay on the downlow. It’s interesting that Mr. 2016 contacts me only when he has something to complain about, isn’t it?

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I haven’t been gobbling up books as fast as I used to; I guess I’m too sad to focus. Since my last post, I’ve read only one: Menfreya in the Morning, a mystery/romance by Victoria Holt. It’s one of her earlier novels, and it fulfills my 2025 Reading Challenge category of being published in my birth decade (1966). I enjoyed it a lot and gave it four stars. It was fun to find some of her oft-used tropes in this early book:

- a heiress who can’t be sure she is loved for herself 

- a female character uses arsenic for her complexion 

- someone dies of arsenic poisoning 

- a mysterious room where something terrible happened

- a hole in a boat that’s plugged with sugar so it will dissolve slowly and whoever is aboard will drown when far from land 

This weekend I binge watched the first season of Nine Perfect Strangers on Hulu and am now on S2. I did this because I read that Christine Baranski is in S2, and I didn’t know if I could begin S2 without watching S1 (I probably could have). Anyway, S1 was fun, and I’ve added the soundtrack (for both seasons) to my pile of Spotify playlists. Good music there! I will also read the book by Liane Moriarty, since that will allow me to tick off the “book made into tv show” category. I guess I would call this a psychological suspense story.

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I used to avoid making plans after work, partly because I get tired and partly because Gatsby had been alone all day. He always ran out to meet me when I opened the door, and I miss that so much. I have no one to greet me now in the evening. Depressing…