Cat-tastic Episode 1

Well my dear readers! Do I most certainly have an adventure planned for your viewing pleasure! This evening, my phenomenal husband (who always goes along with my cray cray ideas and never seems to complain) and I decided to take our 2 cats for a family photo shoot outing. What are you thinking Jessica?? You might ask... and that is a very, very good question to ask indeed... It was a rather impromptu decision I must say and not one that was very well thought through at time it occurred. It was in fact based on the availability of a certain groupon. Most of you know that I am always one for a bargain and when I find a bargain I most certainly cannot resist, so I bought said groupon for a photo shoot and decided the only logical thing to do with such a cheap photo shoot was to bring the cats along. Thus the following journey resulted. We journeyed far and wide to a place of photography inside a mall... Please enjoy the videos! :)

I Know

I have client that I see whom I lovingly refer to as my little old lady or sometimes just my little lady. The reality of the situation is that she's really not all that old at all. In fact, she's quite young to have a dementia diagnosis and she's rather progressed in the disease at this stage. But regardless, I LOVE, with my WHOLE HEART, seeing her and her INCREDIBLE daughter... There's something so magical about my time with them and honestly they appreciate what I do and music therapy in a way that few of my other clients can truly comprehend. Music gives something back to them... It gives them these magical, beautiful moments filled with laughter and smiles... Moments that maybe they wouldn't otherwise have together. And I know in those moments I share with them that I am so blessed to be a part of their story, their journey.

Let's be real my dear readers, life on this earth is but a breath. Should our moments not be as special and happy as we can make them?

When I was seeing my little lady this week something happened that struck me so hard I got in my car and sobbed on the way home. It was a very brief interaction, but enough to slap me in the face. I'm sitting with my little lady and her daughter. Daughter makes a comment about not having seen my little lady since our music therapy session the previous week and how she is a 'bad daughter'. I look at her and say "you are NOT a bad daughter." At which point I look at my little lady and say "tell her... she's a GREAT daughter." Daughter looks at my little lady and says "she'll never say that..."

And those 4 words ripped me to shreds... She'll never say that...

Now I'm not sure what exactly Daughter meant by that. Daughter has a very good sense of humor so maybe she was just joking around...  But the truth in this situation is that my little lady is at a late enough stage in the disease that she probably won't ever say those words. So saying "she'll never say that" is quite an accurate statement.

But my biggest fear is that maybe... just maybe... my little lady had never told her daughter that she is so very incredible...

As I sobbed, I had to call my mom on the way home from this session. I had to ask my mom to tell me that I was good daughter... (Never fear, sweet readers... She said that I was an awesome daughter.) But I had to hear HER say it; I had to hear her voice. Because if the day comes (and I pray to God above that it NEVER comes) and my mom can no longer speak to me, can no longer tell me, maybe doesn't even know me, I never want to say "she'll never say that."

If the day comes that I have to hire a board certified music therapist for my mom, and that therapist looks me in the eye and says "YOU are a great daughter," I want to say "I know. She told me. And I know she meant it."

So dear readers, hold your loved ones tight. Tell them what they mean to you so that if the day comes that YOU are no longer present, THEY never have to guess and they too can say "I know."

Nuts and Bolts

Over the last few weeks and increasingly days, I have begun to feel a growing sense of isolation and dissatisfaction. I'm not really sure what my problem is, but I sorely know that my focus is not on the right things... You know that feeling you get when everything that could go wrong is going wrong all at once. That's where I'm at. I'm in a funk of the worst kind that I'm not sure I can get out of. I'm having an incredibly hard time keeping perspective.

For example (a petty one, but an example nonetheless), over the last year and a half I've lost 35 pounds. This is a number far greater than I anticipated losing, far beyond the goal weight I had originally set for myself. BUT for whatever reason, I now have some VERY arbitrary number in my head of what I want to weigh... and I'm 5 pounds away from weighing that and I canNOT seem to get rid of the last 5 pounds. They just refuse to budge. It all makes me feel horribly depressed because all I can seem to see is where I so badly want to be and not, in fact, how far I've come....

My perspective is all screwy...

Another example, I think I feel really hurt right now as well. Hurt by people that I thought cared about me. I can't seem to let it go, I just seem to keep dwelling on it. It's like I'm feeling some sense of entitlement to an apology or an acknowledgement that I was wronged by the parties who wronged me. But I'm not entitled to that... not in the least bit...

My perspective is all screwy...

I have not one, not two, not three, but four family members that are having health issues right now. Two of those four family members have health issues that are life threatening. All four of those families members live in a different state. I can't even be there with them or offer any sort of support to them or to my other family members. It makes me feel helpless and worthless and extremely isolated. What good am I, if I am of no use to the people that I love the most?

My perspective is all screwy...

I feel like I'm putting forth my best effort professionally and personally and so often I feel like the bad guy. It makes me not want to try anymore.

Well, you know what comes next...

My dear friend, Erin, and I often used to refer to ourselves as "nuts and bolts in the mud" when we were in college. We felt like our professors didn't value us as students or young professionals or even people. We felt we were being torn down like a house that has been reduced to nuts and bolts in the mud. It was clear that our professors had their share of "favorites" (just between you and me, it was usually the ones who watched their kids) and we didn't make the cut of "favorites". In retrospect, we may have been being a little melodramatic, but what is life without a little drama here and there?

So what, my dear readers (if you are still reading my blog or happen to stumble upon it), do I do? What do you do? How do you pick yourself up when you've fallen and all you really want to do is stay on the ground? How do you build your house again when you feel like all you have are nuts and bolts in the mud?

99% -- I'm A Gonna Need a Moment Please

I'm not really a political type of person. Mostly because... well for one thing I don't know much about politics, but probably the bigger reason is that I just don't care about politics. I can admit that I probably should care about politics, at least a little bit... And I can also admit that I really don't care about them, not even a little bit...

With that said, this is my 2 cents for what it's worth. I am blessed beyond measure. I have more than I could ever possibly deserve. I have a roof over my head, clothes on back, food on my table, a job, a degree that I now officially own (meaning NO STUDENT LOANS), running water, an incredible husband, a sparky cat, a yellow mustang, the list could go on and on...

I know that there are many times I am not thankful for all these blessings. I think sometimes I let my sanguine self run out of control and I find myself swinging on the sanguine personality pendulum of "EVERYTHING IS WONDERFUL! THIS FEELS LIKE CHRISTMAS" and "IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD! MY LIFE IS RUINED!" Because really that's how we sanguines are... it's go big or go home with us, no in betweens. I desperately know I complain too much...

SO here's where I'm going with this. Today I was at the gym, in the locker room specifically getting ready to get my work out on when in walks a woman wearing one of the 99% shirts. Now I don't know this woman and maybe she really is having a tough time right now, I have absolutely not a lick of a right to judge... BUT I'll be darned if I didn't get plum stinkin' mad at her for wearing that shirt... Because there are a few things that I DO KNOW about this woman:

1. She considers herself in the 99% based on her clothing of choice.

2. She can afford to pay for a gym membership.

3. She can afford to pay for a VIP gym membership nonetheless . How do I know this you say? Well at our gym you can only be in the gym at 8:00pm if you are a VIP member, regular members have specific hours they can be at the gym...

And this is where I really wanted to be like... How bad can your life possibly be? You are here. You have the money to pay for the gym membership. You obviously have money to buy that shirt and wear it around. How bad can your life possibly be??

Let's have a little perspective here...

I am blessed beyond what I deserve....

Reflections: Cow Salve for the Soul

When I was a little girl, I would often get scratched by (believe it or not!) CATS, cut up from riding my bike on a gravel road, and any other number of minor abrasions from being a little bit of a klutz. No joke, I LOVED myself a band-aid and, maybe just as much as a band-aid, did I love myself some McNess Cow Salve.

How to describe cow salve to those who have never experienced it... Well my dear friend Katie Garner says that it smells like a "hot band-aid". I personally believe it smells like the healing breath of angels. It's a beautiful golden amber in color and I think the correct word to picture it in your head is probably "ointment" or maybe "gel glob". I truly believe in the power of cow salve - it makes all minor cuts and scrapes all better.

The tin of cow salve I grew up with (which I'm pretty sure my mother owned since she was in high school) had a discolored tooth pick in it. We were very economical you see. We didn't get a new toothpick every time we need to use the cow salve. We had one toothpick that stayed inside the tin at all times so when you needed some cow salve the toothpick was at the ready! My mom would use the tooth pick to put some cow salve on a band-aid and then the band-aid would go onto the wound. I'm fairly confident that the tooth pick in the tin of cow salve was older than I am and it is probably still currently residing in my mother's tin of cow salve.

When I was in college I asked for my very own tin of McNess Cow Salve for my birthday. I couldn't have been more thrilled to open the gift and find the beautiful red tin that I associated with "all better". Lucky me! I now too can pass on the healing powers of 20 year old Cow Salve to my own future children. What great joy!

....

Sometimes though I wish cow salve could heal more than minor scrapes and cat scratches.

Sometimes I wish I could just put that beautiful golden amber gel glob straight onto my aching heart.

I've had a bit of a rough week. On top of fighting a cold, struggling professionally, and missing my sweet Kansas something fierce, we're having a few other problems on the home front. And all I really want is to put some cow slave on a 24+ year old toothpick, slather it all over, and fix everything.

But I suppose life doesn't work that way...

I was reflecting upon all this last night and wondering if God was piling it all on so that I would finally realize that instead of trying to fix everything myself, I needed to begin with a cry of help.

I like simple things. Simply put: God = Cow Salve for the Soul

:)

Love, Peace, and Cow Salve Grease,

Jess

Casanova's Toys

I feel as if I should explain my blogging absence over the last year... and well I'll give you 3 words and that's about all I can do:

I got married. :)

Okay moving right along, we'll just pretend I haven't be absent as I have so many fun stories to tell whoever stumbles upon my blog just to see if I've actually written anything in the last year.

And this story is about my darling 10 month old black cat....

When I was born I was given a blue bear and a baby blanket. Ever since I was little I have affectionately referred to said blue bear and baby blanket as Blueberries and Blankie, respectively. Unfortunately Blankie and Blueberries did not keep well if you know what I mean. Blueberries lost his mouth and his fur became matted and rather rough. Blankie was held together by rusted safety pins because, well, my mother safety pinned him back together when he fell apart and those safety pins went through the wash COUNTLESS times.

When I was packing up to go to college shortly after graduating from high school, my mother told me that I could not take Blueberries and Blankie with me. They had to stay at home. If you know me, you can imagine, I'm sure, how well that went over. So what did I do? As any good daughter would do, I secretly packed them up with me and to my dorm they went. They stayed with me throughout my 4 years of college.

After graduating from college I got an internship here in Atlanta, GA. As we were packing me up to move to the ATL, my mother once again told me that Blueberries and Blankie would not be joining me on said trip. She told me repeatedly my BELOVED blue bear and raggle taggle blanket needed to go in the trash. WELL I'm sure that since you now know just how much I love my childhood remnants, how that conversation went. SO like any good daughter, I once again secretly packed them up and to the ATL they went, only to be revealed to my mother upon our arrival in my new house.

In December of 2009, my phenomenal now husband, proposed to me. It was such a beautiful thing. Later my mother and I had a talk. She said to me "Jessica, you can NOT take Blueberries and Blankie to the marriage bed". And I said to her "WO-HO-HO! I will ABSOLUTELY still have my precious Blueberries and Blankie with me after I get married. Kevin gets me and Blueberries and Blankie or nothing!" (that last sentence is probably exaggerated.)

So what did I do? Naturally, I kept Blueberries and Blankie... However, they were somewhat "demoted" if you will. Much to my dismay, it did feel a little strange to have my childhood toys in bed with me and my husband, so I moved them. They now reside underneath my side of the bed, that way they are still close enough for me to reach in case I need a moment of comfort and familiarity (or in case the dark gets too scary or my Himalayan Crystal Salt lamp goes out...).

At this point, I KNOW you're thinking... "But Jessica, you said this story was about your cat!"

Well one night, my husband and I were sitting on our futon watching, oh perhaps The Bachelorette or The Voice. My wild black cat, Casanova is ROMPING around the house in his usual fashion... destroying things, throwing himself at the mirror in the bathroom, eating toilet paper... you know, the usual... when he disappears for a hot minute.

I look around the room noticing that my furry monster is missing and relatively quiet. I note said observation to Kevin when SUDDENLY the demon comes out of our bedroom carrying none other than MY BELOVED BLUEBERRIES in his FOUL SMELLING CAT MOUTH. I'm sure you can imagine the blood-curling scream that escape from MY mouth!

He throws Blueberries down and proceeds to attack him in the most vicious of manners! Flipping over him, jumping on him, running around with him, all as I sit horrified and stunned!! I jump off the futon and LUNGE at Casanova, who takes off running at the speed of light, but luckily leaves my sweet Blueberries on the floor where I can rescue him!

It was a traumatizing event that transpired to say the least.... But I think you will be pleased to know that Blueberries was not harmed in the attack... at least that I could tell, but as you'll remember he wasn't in the best of conditions to begin with. And because I don't usually learn my lessons the first time around, I placed him back underneath my side of the bed with Blankie.

And here is the question I pose to you my dear reader... at what point is it time to give up your Blueberries and Blankie?

When your cat decides that they are his play things?

Or do you ever really outgrow them?

I'd like to believe that a part of me will be forever young... that a part of me will always be child-like....

Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease,

Jess

I'm Here

I'm alive... I'm kickin'.... I just thought you all should know! (Not that you were worried... hehe!). Someday I aspire to be an AWESOME blogger... don't know if I'll ever make it to that though.

Kevin and I are 10 days away from our wedding! HOLY CROW!! Things are BEYOND crazy right now. I feel like every night I come home and we have wedding stuff to do. But soon it will be over and (SPOILER: uber mushy moment coming up, read at your own risk) I will be married to the greatest man ever (at least in my opinion ;).

I keep having all these wonderful blogging ideas and I promise to be a better blogger in the future! But for now I need to go practice my dance lessons... oh man...

Love you all! To my Kansas folks, I miss you more than words can't say and I hope I get to see you all in 10 days :)