Heart Attack

I could not spend one more minute in this bastard of a house, so Diane came early yesterday and took me back to her house. I called and asked Janice to please let the dogs in close to dark, as I had left them out to chill in the sun, and to please please please make sure Smidgen was in.

Years ago, Smidgen was attacked by something, maybe a coyote, I don't know. Her side was ripped and I had to take her to Dr. Patch so he could sew her up and put in a drainage tube. That cat never left my side while she was recuperating. And she'd have nightmares, horrible nightmares. Months after the attack, she would leap out of sleep, ripping me or Aunt Tudi a new one as she launched off us, because I really believed she was suffering from effects of fresh PTSD. Ever since then, she's never left the house. She either uses the litter pan, or goes out and under the porch for a quick tinkle. She will sometimes go out onto the porch and bask in the rays of early morning. But she never ever strays far, and literally panics if I don't immediately let her in when she comes back to the door.

I had asked Janice to also let the dogs out this morning, and Smidgen if she wanted to go out. I knew I'd be coming home about an hour or two later than their scheduled bathroom break, and I didn't want to come home to have to clean up dog poop.

I got home around 9:15 this morning, and accounted for everyone except for Smidgen. I called Janice to see if Smidge had been in the house last night. She said no, that she couldn't get her to come home. And she told me that she hadn't seen Smidgen this morning when she let the dogs out.

I lost my mind. I immediately went into hysterics. This cat is more precious to me than all the gold in the world. She is the one who did everything she could to comfort me weeks after Aunt Tudi died. She would lie on my chest and purr, and place her cheek against mind. She does that to this day. Cats don't just purr out of happiness. When they are in pain, even emotional pain (and they do have emotions), they will purr to self soothe. They will purr to soothe one another. And they will purr to comfort their pet humans. This is what she was doing.

I ran. I ran all over the hill, to the edge of the forest and back. I crawled under the house and checked the out-buildings, constantly calling her name. None of the cats who live with me answer to 'kitty-kitty.' They know their names, and especially Smidgen. She answers to Smidgen and her nicknames Smidge and Pretty Girl. Diane and Bobby helped me look. Diane drove down the back road, calling for her and checking the edge of the forest to make sure Smidgen had not been hit by a car and had crawled into the ditches.

Nothing.

And I stopped breathing. I couldn't catch my breath. I could not breathe. I felt like I was having a heart attack. Diane thought she was gonna have to drag me to the E/R. And she would have had to drag me, because I wasn't about to leave the house.

Then I caught a glimpse of a large owl eye peeking at me from under the pile of trash on Uncle Michael's and Janice's trailer. I knew it was Smidge. She had been 25 feet away from the house the whole time, but would not come out. It took me a good twenty minutes to coax her out, she was so afraid. This is how she is when she inadvertently spends the night outside. When she stepped out far enough, I pulled her out and to me like it was the end of the world.

She's in now.

And I can't stop crying.

Two animals have passed since Aunt Tudi died. And I'll grieve when the ones who live with me now pass. But Smidgen. She is different. If I had lost her, they would have had to put me in the hospital on suicide watch. I can't even bear to think about it. I know it may sound stupid to some people, but this is just how it is.

If Janice had told me Smidge hadn't come in last night, I would have asked Diane to bring me straight home. There is no way I could have tolerated being away when Smidgen might have needed me.

I don't care how haunted and tormented I am in this house, I am never leaving it again.

Flint's History

Okie-dokie (as Hannibal would say), last night at Diane's house, I finished up editing the first draft of The Waltham Phantom, then added over 2,000 words to the mix in order to include Flint's history, and his friendship with Gareth. I'm not sure why I didn't include this in the original, as it's quite relevant to the overall story, considering what Cadmus Pariah does to Gareth. I also injected my take on a certain "bromance" that just fascinates the hell out of me. I know it's nowhere near as extreme as what I wrote, but a girl can dream. Yes, I'm a pervo. This is the unpolished text, though. I have not yet examined it, as I wrote it in a frenzy last night. It's behind the cut. Those who read, I hope you like.

( the blood brotherhood of Simon and Gareth )

The Second Half of Faust/Kallum

I'm trying to get my ducks in a row, gathering up various pictures acook will need for reference, as well as writing up what I envision for the cover of The Augury of Gideon. Then I'm going to tackle some other publishing mountains before me. That aside, though, I found this picture, and it perfectly represents the innocence that defines Faust/Kallum. Scottles is the other half of the Faust/Kallum character, but the picture that best defines that is not published and I'm not gonna be responsible for doing that now. Anyways, here's the James McAvoy picture.



Gotta get this, the Scottles picture, and the picture of B that best represents Cadmus in the third book (I have the perfect one), along with a picture of the actual Augury, and a written description of what I'm seeing, and we'll be good to go. ::crosses fingers::

Ridiculously Ridiculous Tim Roth Photo Dump

Since my brain was fried first thing this morning, I've pretty much retreated to the Realm of Roth for the rest of the day. And I'm taking anyone here along with me as reward or punishment, you choose. gunslingaaahhh, don't look.

I believe this one is from the Captives days. That one is one of the more delicious films, as paisley_daze well knows.


( more incomprehensible beauty HERE )

And that is all for now. The flow has slowed down because there aren't any new pictures out there. I actually have 418 files in my Roth folder. I am not bragging. It's more of a Catholic confession. Seriously. I need some sort of fangirl penance.

The Gay Synchronicity

I meant to post about this here earlier, but had computer problems and could not properly access Semagic or LJ. All that out of the way now, here's the latest blip in Tin's Insanity-Land.

Last night, I furiously wrote out Flint's history, including some unmistakable homo-eroticism between Flint and his dearest friend Gareth. This was a kind of nod to the "bromance" that has been joked about, by the actors themselves, between Gary Oldman and Tim Roth. So, I post the new addition to The Waltham Phantom here and, not an hour later, this was posted on 'Little Roth Quotes' on Tumblr.



o_0 What the fuck?

I've suffered the synchronicity thing with B for years upon years, long before I began communicating with him. But that instance from last month seemed to have kickstarted the same thing with The Roth.

That just ain't right. Seriously. Not right.

I can't win for losing.

KABOOM! that was my head

More synchronous goodness, just happened now.

I found the Oldman/Roth movie Meantime on You Tube and am watching now. A woman was giving the Roth character directions on what train to catch to get to her house in order to do some renovations for her. One of the trains he was supposed to catch was Epping...

...

Before it was called Epping Forest, that stretch of wood in the Greater London area was called Waltham Forest. Both Waltham and Epping are still used for various areas in that vicinity.