Single, and Creating Meaning

I embrace being single. I actually do like going home and reporting in to the cat, but not having to worry about someone else. I know, this feeds my tendency toward self-absorption, but it's comfortable right now, and given my 'success' at relationships, it may well be a necessary leg in my life's journey. Besides, no one can completely lose himself in self-absorption if he lives with a cat. Even moreso than a dog, a cat will let you know he has differing items on his agenda from yours, and that some of those differing agenda items require your efforts to get done. "I don't really give a damn that you are watching 'Stargate Universe'—I want the red dot to go; if the red dot doesn't go, I will start pulling books out of your bookcase. We'll just see how fricken interesting 'Stargate Universe' is then."

As I weigh what I need to make my life, cotidie et in toto, meaningful, I am stunned by my lack of creativity. I make no art, and only craft things that I want to have immediately (e.g., bracelets and necklaces). I haven't pursued a creative hobby in years. I would do well to express myself more. Even Manuel will occasionally create 'art' from the toilet paper roll.

My Friends Model Joy, My Cat Models Stoicism

The absolute highlight of my weekend was Saturday afternoon when I got to spend a few minutes catching up with Alejo and Christian at the 17th Street Festival. It was heartwarming to see how they've thrived and made for themselves a beautiful extensive family, and have learned to share their multiple talents (music, web design, etc.) with other people. I'm glad to see my 'brothers and sisters' doing well.

I also got to see Dennis and Roy at the festival, and share a few minutes with each of them. It was fun and fulfilling.

However, I felt misanthropic for most of the weekend, and I didn't do much other socializing. Instead I watched tv, read a lot, studied a little Coptic and continued my ongoing war with the bedbugs.

This latter has been going on for a month now, and while they haven't been as bad lately as they were at first, there has been a resurgence. I now know I'm going to have to be even more aggressive on a nightly basis. As for pobre Manuel*, he has now had to endure two baths. And he has been an absolute prince about it. Other cats I've known have screamed bloody murder while being bathed. Manuel stoically endures the procedure, and merely tries to get out of the water as quickly as possible.

My main concern is that I don't poison either he or myself in my attempt to get rid of the little biters. Of course, when I saw the story this morning about the young man surviving the shark attack at Virginia Beach, I was grateful I only have bedbugs, and not bedsharks.

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*As a rule, bedbugs hate pets because they don't like wading through all the fur, and Manuel is very furry. Still I wanted to take precautions that he not be a carrier. He's been less distressed about the situation than I have. A model of stoicism.