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Cat Tales (Chesha Cat's Blog)

From the Weird Austin Wonderland...conjectures, considerations, contentions.

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Name:
Chesha Cat
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I think what I do is far removed from what I am. But, maybe that's only what I tell myself. What I do in my inner world is the sum of everything I've ever dreamed, while I do what I have to do so I can do what I want to do in the tiny spaces between doing what I'm required to do. Which doesn't tell you much of anything about who I am, unless you're very gifted at reading between the lines.

I'm a baby-boomer, I'm getting old fast, but my heart is that of a teenager. I'm often shocked when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I have four children--and a husband, which makes five--sorry, Hunnybunny. For more than 30 years, who I am has been defined by how well my children behave, fit in, excel. When I compare what activities I shunned as a teenager to what I've spent time doing with my teenaged children, I see a definite split personality at work.

I've been known by seven different names in my life, but I'm not a criminal. My roots are in the hills of North Carolina, but I've never lived there. I grew up in the Finger Lakes and Lake Ontario area of western New York, but I never felt at home there. Despite living among northerners most of my life, if someone calls me a Yankee, I still see red. Contrariwise, after moving to Texas, I had to learn not to say, "In New York, we did it this way..."

I love my life in the Weird Austin Texas area, home of Longhorns, ACL, and SXSW. It's a little city, the state capital, but a blue island in a sea of red. I expect I'll die here--but not yet.

My baby sister and two younger brothers and I lost our mom to Alzheimer's disease in 2011. Her death drove home how we are living so far apart and have to try so much harder to keep family ties strong. Mom held us together as both mother and father, and now that she's gone, we've all had to step up to the plate to keep our kids involved in the family ball game. My sister and I sometimes give voice to our secret horror that we may succumb to Alzheimer's ourselves. We quickly fold the topic up and put it away in the back of the bottom drawer. It just doesn't pay to think about all the things that can go wrong.

This journal is full of brief, extemporaneous writing and links to posts made around all the social media one has to keep up with nowadays. It's my vain attempt at some form of immortality in case I lose the capacity to formulate a coherent thought or the ability to write it down. As I child, I saw myself as the center of the universe. Now I see I am a drop in the ocean, one voice in seven billion. But a single drop of water can be the last one before the dam breaks.

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” ― Margaret Mead

Join me...

I've had an unconventional life and have some controversial views. I write to please myself, but if anything brings you a smile or makes you think about something from a different perspective, I may get a little more go-juice for my karmic go-cart. Thank you and have a nice day!

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