I’m going back to 100 Words--after four years! It is the best way for me to express myself–and practice for writing the book that lurks within. I don’t wonder if 100 words is enough; the format forces me to say exactly what I want by editing and paring until it is music. My rule is that it must be a real thought or feeling. No stuffing allowed! The real question is can you write a book this way?! And what about conscience? Do you write 300 words on Monday, and

We just had a power surge. My monitor went off and it was dark. I felt my heart race!! What am I afraid of? I just got back from Disney World and I stood next to Darth Vader at the MGM back lot–a very scary dude! (Darthy-boy, who I thought about when all was dark). Darth, for some reason, is my grandson’s hero. I finally decided to live in the moment and acted on it. So I went on Tower of Terror and the Aerosmith roller coaster. I laughed and screamed so loud that I lost my voice. Pure bliss.

In the parking lot. I wait for a van to leave. He doesn’t have enough room to back out because he is an idiot driver. The man in the car behind me realizes I have to back up, so he pulls up to my bumper and taps it. He thinks he’s cool, that he’s trapped me. At first he doesn’t know that I won’t fucking MOVE if I don’t want to. But as I go over my make up and sing and make phone calls, he is livid, and loudly slams his door twice! I smile, completely enjoying the rawness.

Just once I wish I would have said what I really felt. Like I love you. Don’t leave me. Like I need you. And you’re my life. But I didn’t. And because I didn’t, things happened that I did not want to happen. My lover left me because I flirted. It was my fault, but he couldn’t find it in himself to forgive me–for one whole year he didn’t speak to me although we lived in the same bed. After I left, he said, “I was almost ready to talk about it.” But I didn’t hear cuz I was gone.

I should be at work today, immersed in problem solving. But today is “Remind me of My Age” day because I heard a little click when I tried to sit, and then things changed.. My knee sprung a pain! It hurts like hell. I can’t bend it. I can’t pivot. I want to go to work, but Dr. H says to put ice on it and stay off of it today. I’m online because all day in bed is too boring–it’s already five hours. Pray that I may dance tomorrow. If I don’t, it’s back to the doc on Friday.

Work has been a pain in the ass for the last two days. There is no air conditioning and it has been unbearable. I had to take a class that I didn’t know about, in a little office with two young men, and we were all smashed together in an 85 degree room for EIGHT hours. I couldn’t understand a thing; I was sluggish and sleepy and by the end of the day, headachy. Today when I got to work it was already 87 degrees–which is singularly HOT when it’s 70 outside. I left, but didn’t feel good about it.

My grandson is here! It’s about time something good happened! No, that’s unfair. My computer came back the other day and I’m happy about that. You know what? I never noticed that the capital letters come on by themselves! Why do I press the caps key each time? Another STEP saved. Now I can go out and do something with that ½ second! ECONOMY of MOTION, that’s my motto! Sure don’t want to be spending that time PRESSING that KEY. (Actually, I’m trying to catch up my writing in a few minutes, so I’m babbling on.) One of my many peculiar downfalls!

Eddie came over again last weekend; I picked him up after work because he no longer has a car. He played the piano for me and I sang. It was like old times, though we can never go back. It reminds me of that song, Once upon a time there was a tavern...... “Those Were the Days” I think it’s called. “Oh my friend, we’re older but no wiser, cuz in our hearts the dreams remain the same.” How true is that? I still want us to be the rock and roll stars we should have been. Joe wasn’t happy.

Although my voice isn’t as pretty, it is packed with much more emotion, a much better singing voice. Not technically pretty, but raw with feeling. I did some Janis, screamed, “Maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe dear.......” at the top of my lungs...”. I should have been exhausted and hoarse, but NOT! I needed to get it OUT. How many people hold things inside for years and years when they just needed to say it ONCE thirty five years ago, or ten years ago, or two years ago?

Lots, I’d say.

All that wasted time.

Ha! WASTED time!

I walked into the Basement right from my prom--in full regalia. A sleazy nightclub in the basement of a dilapidated apartment building. A mob joint. I was running wild; I didn’t care. I knew everybody around. Eddie was playing organ–his first time there. I didn’t know he’d be there and I just stared. In this jumbled, flashing cacophony, I could see only him, glowing behind that keyboard. I’ll never forget it--my heart was beating me as I watched him.

Is there anything else like young love? I still see Eddie that way.

I wonder how he sees me.

My daughter called and said Demetri was drafted into the Mets! He’s nine! Can you imagine that third grade baseball has a draft?! The coach told her that they looked through the records for the years the kids had played ball and got so many batters, so many fielders, so many pitchers, etc. Yesterday Danielle said she didn’t want us to go to his first practice and it hurt my feelings a tad. We don’t get involved with the game; we’re just watchers. But she was just married in May and wanted her husband to take him. I understand (grudgingly.)

Jim sat at my desk all day playing with the map colors. For this I came to work. I’ve already spent days on the damn thing, but I guess he doesn’t trust me or maybe it’s his micro managing, but he actually sat at my desk and redid it all.

In the end, the map looked just like mine, so I had a stick-my-tongue-out moment! Heee! It seems funny that I wanted to be a cartographer as a child and now I’m doing GIS maps.

Life gets you that way.

More than once.

Am I a cartographer now, or no?

I’ve always thought of love like rings in a pond. The more love you give, the farther it travels, touching things in its way, and it spreads farther and farther away. The more you love, the more your capacity for love, and it expands. Love is not stingy or jealous or mean. Love is BIG, for everyone –and gets bigger.

I’m still teaching my daughter that, just as my mother taught me.

I miss my mother very much. I dreamt about her last night and was SO HAPPY to see her. It woke me with a smile.

Oh my Mama.

We are planning to go to the movies. Joey, Eddie and I are taking Demetri to see, what? Probably the Ninja Turtles! I love to spend time like this, surrounded by my men and all. Do I love men? Yes. Do I love women? Yes. But it is usually more demanding to love a woman unless she’s your sister or something. Most women I’ve met don’t believe in themselves, and sadly, stab you in the back (and themselves to boot)–just for living free. Am I Bitter? I don’t think so. Biased perhaps. What EVER happened to Sisterhood Is Powerful?

“Beware the Ides of March,” said my boss, on his way to a Mayor’s luncheon. I asked him if he had something in mind! He kind of chuckled, but I thought it disquieting. It was actually the “State of the Village” soiree hosted by the Chamber of Commerce. Unlucky to have it on the 15th of March I would think, but that’s being superstitious, isn’t it? My mum used to say that if you believed in Jesus, you couldn’t be superstitious. Why is that, I wonder? Maybe she meant that all is written? I wish I could have asked her.

Tomorrow is my father’s birthday. We are taking him to dinner at Harrah’s and then on to the casino. Crowded tables, dice spinning, smoke curling, numbers popping, the croupier’s loud call, “New shooter!!" And the MONEY!! Yeah, baby. I am so THERE!

Wait....

or money donated, how ’about?

Money given away....

Money dropped down the toilet.....

Money never to be had again.

Sheeesh! How stupid is gambling? I could use that money for important stuff. I could buy some new clothes or something. Yeah. Forget it.....Forget the whole, mind numbing thing, OK?

No Way, Baby! We’re a-going to the boat!

March 17th! St. Patty’s Day and Dad’s birthday, all in one. The casinos were nutsy! They were so busy, they actually called and made us come to dinner at 5:00 instead of 6:00. It’s against my nature, of course, but I was forced to play dice for a while. And for the first time, I lost! Yes, I’m admitting it, though it’s hard. I decided I would win or lose $200. And when everyone was ready to leave, I was down $40. Which, considering the $15 minimum bet, wasn’t that bad. Still, I did lose. I’ll have to try again!

We had a few minutes to ourselves, but damn it all, the dog urinated all over the front room carpet! We walked in and were immediately bowled over by the smell. So Joey is working on the carpet with the steam cleaner; the dog is acting out because I took in a stray cat two weeks ago.

But she goes back to the police department tomorrow. Unfortunately, she brought in three birds yesterday, and for us, not much could be worse. Our yard is geared for birds; we have goldfinches, cardinals, doves and robins dancing among the sparrows and wrens.

I mean you can’t expect us to LURE the birds in and let the cat get them, can you? I know, I know. I hate to give an animal back, but SHEEESH, is it us or the cat? I should think not! The cat was freezing so I took it in. It is no longer freezing and I hope to God her owners claim her. But I’ve decided no more guilt with animals; no more guilt period!

Talk about a useless emotion! I understand that it is necessary in our world, but it should be reserved for only the GUILTY!

I think I shall write about the Kiki the Cat saga. One very cold night several weeks ago, I was exiting work when I felt something on my ankle. Lo and behold, a little kitty was rubbing on me, right in the parking lot after work. The trouble was, it was 12 degrees below zero with the wind chill. I looked at the cat and the cat looked back. I opened the car door and the thing climbed in. It was freezing! I made a little bed out of a sweater in the back and put the cat under it.

I picked up the hump of sweater-cat and hugged it to me for a while until I felt it was a little warm. Then I set it back down and rolled down my car window. I asked everyone around if they had lost a cat or knew the cat. They barely looked at me, everyone intent on getting out of the cold. I went to the service station on the corner and asked there as well. No one knew anything about this cat. So, tired and cold, I headed home. Just me, my cat, my sweater, and my cold car.

Now when I got home, my puppy Pops went out of his mind with glee. Finally, a friend. I was not quite as excited, however, having had much experience with cats. Although I love cats, my heart is quite shy because of my beloved Lucky cat, who was with me for twenty years and died twenty years ago (I’m old, you see!) That cat was like a person, trained and everything. But I digress. After all, this is the Kiki Saga. I took sand from the sandbox and put it into a paper carton lid–instant catbox. She’s ready for bed.

The cat and the dog were getting along fine. No one had answered any of my notes and queries about the cat. I was sort of sad for her (having determined it was a she by not seeing anything anywhere!)

Everything was going swimmingly, although the cat has a strange nursing habit.

The cat likes to jump on top of you, purring, claws kneading as cats do, and SUCK on your shirt!

Yes, that’s right.

Nursing.

Sucking!

On your shirt.

Schleep schleeep schleep!

Which becomes wet.

So you have to pull her off and say no.

But other than that.......

Other than that, all was good. Until Sunday. I could hear the birds singing in the morning; it was beautiful.

Finally, they are coming back!

We have a bird sanctuary in my yard, and we're quite lonely for them during the winter. And I could hear a bird singing......quite loudly, actually....

It was a bird that the cat brought into the house!

I screamed and ran away as it swooped into my bedroom!

In my bedroom!

What possessed me to run I don’t know, but run I did.

After all, I love my birds big time - in my yard!

Well, this is sad to tell, but that Sunday, the cat brought four birds home for us. Gifts, as I understand it. Those poor, poor birds. One died, but the other three were fine when my husband finally wrapped them in blankets and tossed them off of the deck. What a bummer!

Well, I’m not an evil Hitler person. I cannot lure birds into my yard with feeders and birdhouses and special thistle and birdsong food and then have a CAT kill them! Now can I? Poor Kiki has to go. But where?

I must find a place for Kiki.

So that is the Kiki Saga. I didn’t realize I had written so much about her. It must have really been bothering me. I think it’s all tied up with death. My mom’s death, Joey’s mother’s death, then my grandpa’s death....too much life and DEATH I guess. So I saved a life, and now I don’t want another death.

I went to the Police station on Monday, and asked about what they do with cats. “We bring them to this shelter and they put them down,” he said, sounding like Satan.

I shivered.

I couldn’t do that to Kiki.

I had the cat in the car, but I couldn’t bring her inside there. So, I put her down on the very spot she wrapped herself around me. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but I knew it was a bad thing. I went outside with my friend Karen at 10 to see if she was out there.

No. So far so good.

I went out again at 3 and 4, calling her name, “Kiki.”

Nothing.

She must have gone home! I’ll bet they were so happy to see her.

Phhhhhheeeeeeeew!

Wow.

A crisis averted.

I called her name as I left work. And just when I reached the end of the building, she fell in step with me, and walked with me to the car.

“Kiki! You little devil! There you are. You didn’t go home, did you?”

I picked her up. “You didn’t go home, or they didn’t want you?"

"Oh, Kiki. What am I gonna do with you?”

I petted her head, again and again.

Jeeeeeeeez. What the heck.

I drove home while she looked at me and tried to get comfortable. After all, she is a cat. She doesn’t like cars.

So today one of our very handsome officers came to speak to me. He was asked to see me by the Chief, after I wrote about Kiki and the “put them down” comment.

He was very kind and gentle and he spoke to me like I was a simple, loving woman–and kind of dumb, to boot.

Heeeeeee! (It kind of felt good, though).

He said they don’t put the animals down. He said they try to find their owners, and failing that, they adopt them out. He said it was only in very dire circumstances that the animals were killed.

It’s Friday night and Danielle is using her son to punish me again. Although he counts the hours until Friday to come and see his grandparents (all three of us!), she is angry with me, so she won’t let him come. This breaks his heart and it is why he says that she does not love him, but “despises” him. It is heart wrenching and tears at my very core. And there is no way to convince her that it hurts her son far more than me. I know what she is now, but to Demetri it is like a punch.

Sunday morning in bed and I wake to the birds. . . I hear chirping and singing as I come to life. I look around and wonder if I’m late for anything when I notice the clock. It is black. I try the television. A power-out. Perfect timing; there’s really nothing electrical I require. I pick up my new book, The Road, but a copy of People Magazine catches my eye. Perhaps I should begin with something light I say to myself. After all, nuclear holocaust may be a stressful subject this early. Then realization sweeps over: Sunday morning and no obligations.