There are two types of animals. Predators and Prey.

And in case you don’t know, the simplistic definitions of them are that predators hunt to eat, prey get hunted.

Predators come in all shapes and sizes, rely on inherent weapons like
claws,
fangs,           
power. They are blessed with a cunning, honed intellect. When one
thinks of a predator, it is a sleek animal, whip-quick with the death
strike.

Or else, they bring the gift of death through a series of constructed
traps or orchestrated hunts. And
usually,                 
usually it is the weakest of prey that get picked off – the very young,
the very old, the very sick.

So prey animals have defenses to prolong their lives just enough to
pass on genes. They have speed for frantic fleeing, fear. They rely on
mimicry to save their lives. Hiding in plain sight, hiding within a
group, and within that group, hiding their own individual weakness.

Which is why it is so difficult to observe an illness in prey animals.
They hide it well in order to survive, in order not to be the one that
stands out from the crowd, in order not to be rejected protection of
the group.

So a parakeet suffering from neurological distress brought on by an
infection will act like the rest of its flock, sitting on its perch,
maybe eating and drinking a little, hopping about as if it’s well until
you notice that one day, it is lying on the bottom of its cage, and you
have to pick it up and look closer just to see the almost imperceptible
rise and fall of its chest. They have fast metabolisms, these small
rainbow singers, and illness left unnoticed, hidden by behavior that is
supposed to prolong life, devours – consumes – the prey from inside.

And that parakeet, driven to the vet for emergency treatment, handled
and prodded by hands until it can take no more, hears the question that
can bring the gift of death quickly or prolong its suffering, hears the
answer in a familiar voice made unfamiliar by sorrow, and decides for
itself. Sitting in the acrylic box with oxygen hissing in through tubes,
the parakeet stretches its wings once more, displaying the lemon yellow
of a forgotten memory, turns its head for one last look at tenderness,
and departs the betrayal of its body.

Ok, so Mother and Father gave me some money to buy myself a birthday
present. I wandered the stores for hours, trying to choose something I
wanted.

I finally ended up getting a new hair dryer for myself and several
boxes of diet shakes for Beau. Either I’m really very simple-minded, or
I’m very really content with life.

But the fridge is stocked with over a week’s worth of cake now -
because I got some Goldilocks cake for myself and Mother brought over
some too. Got lotsa free stuff from all my fish store friends – it’s
good to be friendly.

---

Work was getting a little
frazzling for a while there. We had a big visit from some corporate
goons. Overall, the hard work we put into the store paid off – they
were really pleased with how everything was. I should say they’re socks
were knocked off, because after visiting some other branches, there’s
no contest – we have one of the best stores in California, if not the
West Coast. And all done with half the staff of other stores.

That’s the thing – the frazzling thing – we’re way understaffed. And
the ones who’ve been there for a while – me, Roman, Esperanza, and
Anita, are all quick and thorough. But everyone’s stretched thin
covering for some of the newer people.

Plus, there’s this guy that works there that really bugs the fuck out
of me. Seriously. He spends more time complaining about how much work
he has to do than actually working that he gets behind in what he’s
doing and it makes him angrier. I try to tolerate him, but more often
than not, I hate his guts.

---

I had a dream about you last night, and I hope you are doing well.

---

I can’t believe you didn’t even call me on my birthday.

---

That’s ok, though. Beau, Mickey, and all my other friends more than make up for it.

---

But still….

---

I come from an island. I grew up on an island. I discovered myself at
the feet of the ocean. And I think that is where I’m most complete.

Where do I see myself in the future – and yes, I’m able to think of
that now – I see myself running on the shore with dogs at my heels,
chasing sun-browned children towards a bonfire.

Happy Birthday to me,
Happy Birthday to me,
Happy Birth-day to me-eeeeeee
Happy Birthday to me.

All I can say is, you guys know me better than I know myself. If I’d
had to buy myself a birthday present, it would have been a shop vac.
LOL…..

Thanks for more crack Mickey.

Sarah’s Saturday Keyboard Confession

So last night, I went a little crazy. You know what I’m talking about.
Beau made me take an ativan so I’d stop _______. He also made me eat
dinner, even though I protested I wasn’t hungry. I managed to get some
food down. Then I got very, very sleepy.

“I’m just gonna take a lil nap.”

And woke up 9 hours later.

It’s early now, but if you want to know more, maybe I’ll be back in a few hours.

I wanted to talk to you today – talk with you, I mean. I didn’t get a chance to….. But you remind me of Julien.

Wanna know a secret? I stopped taking one of my medications. And I
haven’t been to see the doctor in months…… I am getting… no -
Becoming! – an angrier person. Sometimes, I am bitter; more bitter and
biting than the water that runs beneath the frozen pond, suffocating
and suffocated by my own brittle shell of protection. And waiting,
always waiting, for some kind Spring to come and thaw my stubborn grasp
from the riverbank.

Sweep me out to the ocean, please,
I sigh and beg for release……. And if you put your ear to the ice,
you can hear my murmur, hear my anguish, and maybe even understand that
I have become very, very good at acting normal. 

But today, I laughed out loud at something, and the sound surprised me because it was so spontaneous, so……. REAL! But that realization just made it even clearer, in the silence that followed, how long it’s been since I laughed like that.

---

I don’t know if you’ll read this, if you ever read this, if I imagined
you visited once or twice and really I’m talking to myself, but I like
to think that…..

Sarah’s Saturday Keyboard Confession
Late edition

Ladies and gentlemen
Last night, I was privvy to a revelation. It was…. an epiphany…. epiphonic?…. in any case, ephemeral….

Define Yourself
it said.

And I think there are others as lost as I am and perhaps we’re all the
same person but in parallel universes, treading water to keep our heads
above the mire. I know you’re out there- other me’s.

And yet…. and yet I take stock of my life every now and then, and I
see this wonderfully passionate young woman trying to burn through the
fog of mediocrity, aspiring to the sublime, and in the process
consuming herself until the desire burns itself out.

Do I make you happy? Have I changed your life? Is your world better for having me lived in it? Truly….

Bjork: All is Full of Love

listen to it.

And think about this:

high heels

long dark hair

moist red lips

a soft, red dress

a room lit by lightning

fingers

tongue

a button

a silver necklace

a zipper

unzipped

lower lip

bitten

grasping

gasping

tight

tight

yes

yes

yes

There’s this weird thing that happens when you get promoted. Suddenly,
you’re not one of the gang anymore, and it’s awkward having to tell
them what to do and when you need it done by.
There’s a policy at my store too – about Fraternization. Yes, the big
F- word. No Fraternization between levels. So um, yeah – that means no
hanging out with the people who you supervise – who I now supervise. I
mean, you go from being friends with everyone at work to being friends with only 2 or 3 other people.

But the idea of leadership. Do you agree that some people are born with
it? That their naturally charismatic personality, reflected in their
attitude towards every endeavor, draws people to them, Mecca-wards.

Or is it something else – an innate ability lying dormant, unused and
unfelt until under such great pressure that the coal turns into a
diamond shining in the twilight of uncertainty, guiding but
unreachable, untouchable like the coldest star, separate from that
which it directs, ironically finding purpose only in isolation.

So,
It isn’t that I don’t see myself as a Good leader. It’s not that I fear
the responsibility, the choices, the consequences. It’s that it makes
you very        
much        alone.

That’s why I have so many great ideas for the company, for the store.
That’s why I’m so passionate about our goals, about everything that I
do – that needs to be done. That’s because I never stop thinking,
because to stop means to drown in silence.

So my cousin’s getting married this month. I coulda gone to the wedding
- it’s a free trip to the Philippines if nothing else – but you know
what, I’m not.
What exactly is the deal with me and weddings, anyway? You know, I
think that deep down inside, I hate them. It’s not that the attention
isn’t centered on me, I’m not that psycho. I think it’s because…. I
don’t care about the people getting married as much as I think I do, or
as much as I think I should or as much as I should.
Maybe…. maybe it’s just that I don’t think the people getting married
really know what they’re getting into. It’s so wrapped up in white
fluff and flowers, stag and bridal showers, counting down the hours and
it all leads up
to
this
A ceremony in front of dozens of dozens of people you could really care
less about and the few people you really want to be there are pushed to
the back table at the reception and there’s this whole ceremony of
borrowed words when all you really want to do is look at each other,
see yourself in the other’s eyes, and know, just know without a single
molecule of doubt, that you’re home. I imagine that’s what it would be
like if matter and antimatter suddenly stopped at the same traffic
light.

I want my wedding to be one grand party. No fluffy prom reject dresses.
Tuxedos would be ok, if only to remind me of penguins marching on ice
mountains. There should be a million flowers like spring threw up, and
a million balloons like someone gutted a clown. Music and laughing and
games and pranks. And at the end of the day, I want everyone leaving,
shaking their heads and chuckling to themselves, wondering where on
earth they left their socks, and hoping that we procreate, because God
knows we need more laughter in the world.

Top 10 reasons why I love Mickey:

1. “I didn’t know Mike’s package was gonna be that big!”

2. “That bird gets more head than I do.”

3. “Ok, ok, so there’s this phone booth in the middle of the desert….”

4. “Why do women like Jesus so much? … Because he’s hung like this.”

5. “I don’t like using the microwave.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it puts photon torpedoes in my food.”

6. “Chuck North”

7. “I have something to tell you…. I’m not really a blueberry pie, I’m….. strawberry.” (excerpt from Pies of the World)

8. “I wanna smash your face in……. I’m gonna smash your face.”

9. “It’s time for another episode of Cat in the Box!”

10. “I want a plate shaped like a boat so I can literally say I ate a boatload of food.” and “I’m a super duper programmer.”