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Rawr. I meant to write earlier this week.
I got to Reno last Sunday night. My parents had cleared out Phil's office, so I sort of have my old bedroom back. There is no bed or dresser, and there are random tables and bookshelves, but it's my room and I've got a camping pad on the floor and it's not so bad....
We've been keeping Claire locked in here so she won't escape through the dog door. We can block up the dog door sometimes to let Claire roam the house, but Cassie pees on the floor if we block her exit too long. She's about 14 now and is really losing control of her body--she's totally deaf, mostly blind, and obviously moving towards incontinent.
Wednesday night my guild had its first 25-man raid since the split and reformation. It was ridiculously hectic and uncoordinated, but we managed to get Gruul and Mag down--not necessarily something to brag about, since most of us are in upper T5/Black Temple level gear--which we were actually really proud of considering all the guild drama we've had over the last couple of months. It's nice to see that the brand new guild made up of old members still has the potential to put together a coherent raid.
Anyway, my point in mentioning this at all on LJ is that I was tied up for four hours on Wednesday night with something that was very, very socially important to me. And while I was playing, Claire was roaming the house, because she'd been cooped up in here all day and I felt that my parents could keep on eye on the various doors and the dog to make sure that all concerned pets were happy and accomodated. Apparently this was much too much to ask!
The raid ended around 9 and I went into the living room to hang out with my family. I mentioned that I hadn't seen Claire in a couple hours, and was immediately brushed off. "Oh, I'm sure she's around here somewhere." Claire generally doesn't find a place to hide and then sleep in it and not come when called, but hey, she'd been under a lot of stress lately and I figured maybe she was just being shy.
Eventually I went to bed. No Claire. I woke up Thursday morning to no Claire. At this point it was very, very clear that Claire had gotten out of the house somehow, probably while my mom was picking tomatoes and my sister was playing in the backyard--they'd been opening and closing and opening and closing the back door and probably just didn't see her slip out. I spent most of Thursday absolutely distraught. I put up flyers around the neighborhood. I posted an ad on the Lost and Found page on Craigslist. I wandered the neighborhood on foot and by car several times each, calling for her and searching for any sign of a lost tiny orange cat. Unfortunately she didn't have her collar on her.
The really frustrating thing throughout all this was my parents. Phil was absorbed in Elena and didn't seem to notice or care that I was literally DISTRAUGHT. I mean, I was bursting into tears and standing in the middle of the room, or the road, or the ravine, just stricken with shock and sadness and an inability to think clearly or make decisions. Mom was more helpful when she got home from work, and walked around the ravine with me looking for the cat after dinner, but she also didn't seem to realize how upset I was.
I left the back door open--and Phil actually rigged a little piece of wood to hold the door open wide enough for the cat but to not let too many bugs in, which was really really nice of him--and my bedroom window open (it looks onto the front walkway). I put her litter out under the window by the front door, and her bowl of food a few feet away. I couldn't sleep, so I stayed up and played on the computer for a few hours, and around 1 am (more than a full day after she'd disappeared) I heard a tiny meow. "Claire??" I gasped. "MEOW!" "CLAIRE!!??" And then her head popped up in the window and she looked at me like, "Oh my god, is this home???" and I grabbed her up and there was much huggling. She was COVERED in dust. I set her down and shut the window and brought in her food and litter, and as soon as I set the food bowl down she devoured about half of it (she's a tiny cat; it generally takes her three or four days to eat her whole bowl of food, so half a bowl in one sitting is a lot for her--she was obviously starving). I got a washcloth wet and wiped her down, and she curled up on "her" pillow and washed herself and then went straight to sleep.
So she's been locked up in the office ever since, only being allowed out when I have the energy and the time to be hypervigilant about the dog door and the front and back doors. My parents still refuse to admit that they could have been the ones to let her out, which is very, very frustrating for me. I suppose it doesn't MATTER if they admit it or not, since the whole thing is over, but some admission of guilt or expression of--what's the word I want here? apology for wrongdoing?--... something... would be nice.
My mom let Claire out again this morning. I was letting the cat roam the house, because I was reading and being hypervigilant about her whereabouts, and Mom came in and left the front door open. Claire made it halfway across the neighbor's yard before I caught her and scooped her up and brought her back. Mom's comment? "Oh, I didn't know your bedroom door was open."
THANKS A LOT.
Edited to add: She has apologized, and I think she realized how upset I was about this. She's making an effort. I will keep trying to make an effort too.
So, anyway. This self-absorbed and single point of view entry has been brought to you by a feeling of neglect and displacement.
I've been thinking that my best option right now is probably to go back to Utah. I need to call my aunt and uncle and ask about a few things, but I really think that the "apartment" they offered would be perfect while I try to find a job and get back on my own feet. Claire needs the room to run around without me worrying about her escaping, and I need the room to move around and feel like there's actually a space for me. A WELCOMING space. Cause there's a lot of stuff I could add to this entry about the social dynamic this week... and it hasn't been fun for me. I remember now why I was so eager to move out after high school.
Anyway.
I played Spore on Friday at a friend's house. We got to the civilization stage. It was pretty awesome. When the price goes down I'll definitely pick up a copy.
I got to Reno last Sunday night. My parents had cleared out Phil's office, so I sort of have my old bedroom back. There is no bed or dresser, and there are random tables and bookshelves, but it's my room and I've got a camping pad on the floor and it's not so bad....
We've been keeping Claire locked in here so she won't escape through the dog door. We can block up the dog door sometimes to let Claire roam the house, but Cassie pees on the floor if we block her exit too long. She's about 14 now and is really losing control of her body--she's totally deaf, mostly blind, and obviously moving towards incontinent.
Wednesday night my guild had its first 25-man raid since the split and reformation. It was ridiculously hectic and uncoordinated, but we managed to get Gruul and Mag down--not necessarily something to brag about, since most of us are in upper T5/Black Temple level gear--which we were actually really proud of considering all the guild drama we've had over the last couple of months. It's nice to see that the brand new guild made up of old members still has the potential to put together a coherent raid.
Anyway, my point in mentioning this at all on LJ is that I was tied up for four hours on Wednesday night with something that was very, very socially important to me. And while I was playing, Claire was roaming the house, because she'd been cooped up in here all day and I felt that my parents could keep on eye on the various doors and the dog to make sure that all concerned pets were happy and accomodated. Apparently this was much too much to ask!
The raid ended around 9 and I went into the living room to hang out with my family. I mentioned that I hadn't seen Claire in a couple hours, and was immediately brushed off. "Oh, I'm sure she's around here somewhere." Claire generally doesn't find a place to hide and then sleep in it and not come when called, but hey, she'd been under a lot of stress lately and I figured maybe she was just being shy.
Eventually I went to bed. No Claire. I woke up Thursday morning to no Claire. At this point it was very, very clear that Claire had gotten out of the house somehow, probably while my mom was picking tomatoes and my sister was playing in the backyard--they'd been opening and closing and opening and closing the back door and probably just didn't see her slip out. I spent most of Thursday absolutely distraught. I put up flyers around the neighborhood. I posted an ad on the Lost and Found page on Craigslist. I wandered the neighborhood on foot and by car several times each, calling for her and searching for any sign of a lost tiny orange cat. Unfortunately she didn't have her collar on her.
The really frustrating thing throughout all this was my parents. Phil was absorbed in Elena and didn't seem to notice or care that I was literally DISTRAUGHT. I mean, I was bursting into tears and standing in the middle of the room, or the road, or the ravine, just stricken with shock and sadness and an inability to think clearly or make decisions. Mom was more helpful when she got home from work, and walked around the ravine with me looking for the cat after dinner, but she also didn't seem to realize how upset I was.
I left the back door open--and Phil actually rigged a little piece of wood to hold the door open wide enough for the cat but to not let too many bugs in, which was really really nice of him--and my bedroom window open (it looks onto the front walkway). I put her litter out under the window by the front door, and her bowl of food a few feet away. I couldn't sleep, so I stayed up and played on the computer for a few hours, and around 1 am (more than a full day after she'd disappeared) I heard a tiny meow. "Claire??" I gasped. "MEOW!" "CLAIRE!!??" And then her head popped up in the window and she looked at me like, "Oh my god, is this home???" and I grabbed her up and there was much huggling. She was COVERED in dust. I set her down and shut the window and brought in her food and litter, and as soon as I set the food bowl down she devoured about half of it (she's a tiny cat; it generally takes her three or four days to eat her whole bowl of food, so half a bowl in one sitting is a lot for her--she was obviously starving). I got a washcloth wet and wiped her down, and she curled up on "her" pillow and washed herself and then went straight to sleep.
So she's been locked up in the office ever since, only being allowed out when I have the energy and the time to be hypervigilant about the dog door and the front and back doors. My parents still refuse to admit that they could have been the ones to let her out, which is very, very frustrating for me. I suppose it doesn't MATTER if they admit it or not, since the whole thing is over, but some admission of guilt or expression of--what's the word I want here? apology for wrongdoing?--... something... would be nice.
My mom let Claire out again this morning. I was letting the cat roam the house, because I was reading and being hypervigilant about her whereabouts, and Mom came in and left the front door open. Claire made it halfway across the neighbor's yard before I caught her and scooped her up and brought her back. Mom's comment? "Oh, I didn't know your bedroom door was open."
THANKS A LOT.
Edited to add: She has apologized, and I think she realized how upset I was about this. She's making an effort. I will keep trying to make an effort too.
So, anyway. This self-absorbed and single point of view entry has been brought to you by a feeling of neglect and displacement.
I've been thinking that my best option right now is probably to go back to Utah. I need to call my aunt and uncle and ask about a few things, but I really think that the "apartment" they offered would be perfect while I try to find a job and get back on my own feet. Claire needs the room to run around without me worrying about her escaping, and I need the room to move around and feel like there's actually a space for me. A WELCOMING space. Cause there's a lot of stuff I could add to this entry about the social dynamic this week... and it hasn't been fun for me. I remember now why I was so eager to move out after high school.
Anyway.
I played Spore on Friday at a friend's house. We got to the civilization stage. It was pretty awesome. When the price goes down I'll definitely pick up a copy.
