Monday, April 26, 2010

One Last Dance

Her body moved silently to the music. A faint smile touched her lips. Her eyes were half closed as she slowly danced around the room. Life is perfect, she thought, I'm loved and all is well. Nothing would ever change; nothing would ever be as it once was . . . After the disaster of a first marriage, Casey had accepted a life alone and was at peace with that decision. It didn't stop her from being lonely. On a dull evening, when she was feeling particularly lonely Casey sat down at her computer and started checking out local bulletin boards. This was way before the Internet and World Wide Web. Those you chatted with tended to be local and much, much smaller groups. None of the sites she found appealed to her until she found Stanley's Steamboat Stop.

Like the others she had seen, Stanley's had the usual rooms devoted to a variety of topics, but it also had one listed that sounded different. This particular room was called The Meadow. In addition to a screen name, those who populated this room also took on a fictional persona. Most of it revolved around the antics of Mouse, who was forever trying to steal food from The Farmer's garden and getting stomped for it. One of the other rooms was devoted to lively debate and discussion and was here that The Farmer excelled. With a rapier sharp wit and intelligence, The Farmer regularly dissected challengers. Through him Casey learned to think through her arguments and to present her case in a logical and straight forward manner.

Before long Casey went from sending one or two messages to sending dozens. Most to the public rooms, but many were private messages to and from Mouse. Each night when she logged on and saw the new messages a ray of happiness went through her. It seemed that she had finally found friends.

Winter slipped by and so did Spring. She watched with delight as Mouse slipped in and out of the Garden, got stomped and The Farmer got zapped by the Fairy Godmother who protected Mouse. Casey enjoyed the debates, some she won, some she lost, but each was a learning experience. Mouse offered his phone number but she was still to insecure to dare to call him. Written words seemed much, much safer.

Casey found the people even more fun in person than they were online. They ate, drank, talked and laughed until darkness forced the picnic to an end. An exploding watermelon was only one of the many memories built that day. By the time she finally drove home, Casey had agreed to a date with Mouse. She had learned his real name, but would think of him as Mouse for months more to come. Their first date was a huge success, especially when he held her close in a dance near the end of the date. It was the first of many dances.

A year later at the second annual Stanley's Steamboat Stop picnic Mouse surprised them all by dropping to one knee and proposing. A blushing Casey agreed to marry him, to the cheers of all those present. She couldn't imagine being any happier, it was as if all the bad from her childhood had never happened.

When Casey was nine she was verbally and emotionally abused by her teacher and classmates. Problems at home deepened the problem, although years later she could not remember exactly what had happened. All Casey knew was she was alienated. Once full of confidence with lots of friends, she retreated inside of herself, inside of a bubble where no one could cause her harm. It was a lonely existence but preferable to risking her heart, risking being ridiculed, being laughed at. So while other children developed social skills, learned to be and make friends, Casey stayed within the world of her imagination, safe and secure. The one joy she shared with other children was a wishing star. Like so many others she would make a wish, only her wish was always the same, that someday, someone would love her. Now, so many years later, it all seemed to be coming true.

But it wasn't meant to be. Casey had no way to know that the same lack of skills that kept her apart from most other people would also keep her from being able to bond as a wife. She tried, but something just wasn't there. Two years after they were married, Mouse told her that he had found someone else, that he didn't love her anymore. Casey, her heart shattered coped in the only way she knew how.

Her body moved silently to the music. A faint smile touched her lips. Her eyes were half closed as she slowly danced around the room. Life is perfect, she thought, I'm loved and all is well. Nothing would ever, change, nothing would ever be as it once was. A nurse peered into the open door at the vacant eyed woman who moved to music only the dancer could hear.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Kit


Once upon a time I thought that all cats were more or less the same -- four legged furred companions. That was before I was introduced to the idea that every so often, if you are very lucky you might find a special cat, a bud or a girlfriend. I am extremely lucky in that I have both a bud cat and a girlfriend cat.

Kit, is my special girlfriend cat. She decided that the first day that she met me. She was born under the trailer of a friend. At a very early age, Kit lost her mother as was adopted by the owner of the trailer. This wonderful and generous person bottle fed Kit and her siblings. The first time I saw Kit she fit into my hand. Before going to see her I was convinced that I didn't need another cat and was not going to adopt another one. That all changed the first time I held her. I picked up this tiny little kitten, held her to my chest and she purred. A tiny ball of fur purring in my hand, purred her way into my heart.

Before Kit I was not a big fan of female cats. I didn't think they had the personality that a male cat shows. Kit showed me just how wrong I was about female cats. She has more than enough personality for ten cats. From the first day she came to live with me, Kit let me know how it was going to be and that she now ruled the house. It was her house and I just got to share it with her.

I soon learned that she was more than just another cat. Kit had decided that we were going to be girlfriends and do all that things that girlfriends do together. She is seldom far from my side when I am home. If she thinks I need her special attention she will glue herself to my chest and touch her face to mine purring the whole time. It doesn't matter what kind of a day I've had, one minute with her purring in my arms is enough to brighten the darkest day.

Kit expects to share things with me as well, like my meals. She's not above trying to take food off my plate if I'm a little slow in sharing. To her way of thinking, that's what girlfriends do, they share. Other than being my girlfriend, Kit gave me another great gift, she gave me my cat bud and familiar, Steel, but that's a post for another day.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Co-worker from hell


I think just about everyone either works with or has worked with someone who makes your life a living hell. I'm fortunate in that I only have to work with this person four days out of the month. He has been the bane of my existence since he started. Back in March I was having a bad day and refused to do something he wanted me to do. He had stated that he didn't think it was fair that one person did that particular job all the time. I had done it the day before and now he was telling, not asking, telling me to do it again. I refused, he wrote me up.
For me this was the last straw. I'm been a victim of verbal/emotional abuse most of my life and I had finally had it with this one person making me feel like shit. Added to that he lied on my yearly review which would have cost me my raise, except the company decided that no one would get a raise. I filed an official complaint and the real hell started.

I think I understand now why some victims of abuse fail to report it or if they do fail to follow through. I was made to feel like I was the one in the wrong. I was accused of working not working independently, of working too independently, of not being a team player and of being too much of a team player, all at the same time. I'm good at my job but I fail to see how I could be so many contradictory things. Added to this I was told that not only was thing being said by the person I had a problem with it was also being said by one of my superiors from the rest of the days. There are two people who are superior to me that I work with the bulk of the time. I'm comfortable enough with them that I went to one and asked if she had said negative things about me. She said she hadn't and neither had the other person. While I can't prove it, I know that someone stabbed me in the back.

The night before a big meeting with me, the one I accused, the head of my department and the head of personal, when I'm trying to stay positive she tried to knock me down. She was making comments about how they were right and I was guilty of what I was accused of. This is a person who has already quit her job and is leaving in less than two weeks for a new job. Although I have no solid proof, I know with every molecule of my being that she stabbed me in the back. If the two I work with the most had both backed me up, I think it would have gone differently.

I did agree that I would not discuss what went on in the final meeting and I will not. What I will say is we all agreed to be nice and try to work civilly with each other. I have a feeling that the one I accused feels he one. For my part I don't think there is a winner. I don't know that the situation will change. I will do what I have to do and try not to stress. As to the one who caused the problem, for as long as he works at this place there will be a letter in his file that says he lied and abused a co-worker.

Shadow

I am the dancer's shadow
Each move she makes, I copy
Each spin, each twirl, each step
I make as well.

But when darkness falls
And the shadows rule
I am no longer the dancer's shadow
I am the Shadow Dancer.

No longer constrained by mortal flaws
I flow, I move, I dance
More brilliantly than any human
Could dare to mimic.

Then daylight comes
And the shadows flee to dark corners and crevices
Once again, I am the dancer's shadow
But only until dark

And only until the day I am free.

Mine
March 1988