I’ve got some reading material to recommend to you today, a website I found at once horrifying and reassuring. Hildi suggested I might want to start you off with something gentle — a bread crumb of cuteness you could reference to get back out of the Rabbit Hole, should you decide to follow me down.
She also thought a picture of herself was the best way to reach the necessary cuteness quotient.
Thanks to Natalie Luhrs and her fantastic weekly links posts over at Pretty Terrible^, I recently came across just the site that I needed — at just the moment that I needed it. Given what I know about You, my lovely Readers, I have a hunch that some of you will want to explore about this site too (or may at least find it interesting).
“For several years now I’ve followed blogs about narcissists and other abusers, written by victims of abuse. They’re powerful tools for recovery, and powerful testimonials to the impact of emotional abusers on other people’s lives. What’s been missing is the abusers’ perspective on the abuse. The narcissists I see online don’t write about their relationships with their children and close friends; they hardly write about their own partners, except as props in the narcissist’s ongoing drama. I assumed that there was no way to get the abusers’ side of the story, that abusers are smart enough to not incriminate themselves in their own blogs, and like hell would they get together with other abusers to discuss abuse.
All evidence to the contrary, I don’t enjoy writing about sexual violence and the cultural systems that nurture and defend it.
I really, really don’t.
I keep a file of topics I might wanna blog about sometime — and it’s FULL of ideas that have nil, zip, zilch, nada to do with rape. Honest. In fact, here’s a sampling of items on that list right now, none of which have the slightest rape-y thing going on:
A Dyke By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet
I Was a Martian Princess with Big Tits (memoir) [I am definitely writing this story at some point. The final title definitely will — or will not — be this.]
Squigged Out by an Old Woman Who Held My Hands in the Cold Meats Aisle
Let’s Talk About Nathan. Who Lives in My Bathroom.
Something about “Claiming a Dragon.” Because dragon. [I’ll be honest: I have no idea what I was thinking when I added this to the list. But I’m keeping it on there. BECAUSE DRAGON.]
So when I tell you I’d rather be writing today about anything other than how, at a performance Thursday night, Bill Cosby made a rape joke when a woman in the audience stood up to get a drink and the crowd gave him a standing ovation — how I’d rather be writing about dragons or deli meat or dyke solidarity or ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING AT ALL THAT IS NOT RAPE — I want to be sure you understand.
It’s been rather a rough week chez Alice-n-cats. Y’see, my beautiful babygirlcat is sick. And she won’t be getting better.
It’s sad, but not a tragedy. Hildi and I have lived together for 19 years, ever since she came into my life as a two-month-old kitten, runt of her litter and small enough to sit up in the palm of my hand. Most of her adult life she weighed ~15 pounds. She is now down to barely 7.
I have spent the past week trying to get my work done while sitting next to her on the couch, or balancing her (and her soft-for-old-catlady-bones cushion) on my lap. Often she just sleeps; other times I pet her while she sucks her tail, a self-soothing habit from kittenhood.
Having realized recently just how much of my blogging is angry–a hands-shaking, rip-my-eyeballs-out kind of angry (or, as one gentle friend put it, “reading your blog is…umm…sorta DIFFICULT”)–I decided today is time for something completely different.