Memoir of a Cat Part 2

Read part one here!

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"It was the first night, and Sparta was still nervous and aloof. He missed his companion and his home. He had not yet grown accustomed to my roommates who immediately pounced on him because of his cute face and soft coat. It was the dead of night, but my sub consciousness had been waiting for a sound like the ear-splitting crash that suddenly erupted. Still immersed in darkness, I knew it could mean only one thing: Sparta had knocked over the unstable shelving unit that held my entire collection of snow globes. I flicked on the lights and found glitter, glass, and water all over the ugly carpet of my room. Sparta stood flat against the opposite wall looking scared and not in the least bit sorry. The thought dawned on me that I was in over my head and had never truly been a pet owner before. Was it always going to be like this? With tears in my eyes, my heart ached to have Piddy Paws there and not the Destroyer of Snow Globes as I picked up the large pieces of glass and soaked up the water. Vacuuming the glitter waited until morning.

The dead snow globes

            The next morning, I nearly started packing up Sparta’s belongings to drive him back to my mother’s house. It was not going to work out, I could see that now. He was too rambunctious, and I was feeling guilty for taking him away from his home in the first place. Yet, something stopped me as I watched him sleeping in my beanbag chair. Looking back, if I had taken him home, it would have been the worse decision I would have made.

            Due to the curiosity in his friend’s roommate’s cat, I met my boyfriend Stuart, who increasingly came over to our apartment to play with Sparta. We fell for each other and started dating, thanks to Sparta. Then three months later, Stuart graduated from Western Carolina University and moved to his hometown of Raleigh. We began a painful, lonely one-year long distance relationship. My constant companion and bright star through the entire year was Sparta. He kept me entertained, forced me to get out of bed in the morning, and gave me a living thing to hold at night. Even he knew what it meant when Stuart left, patrolling the apartment and meowing loudly as if looking for him.

Sparta fell in love with Stuart!

            During that time, I also hurt Sparta deeply. In desperation to constantly see Stuart, I often traveled to Raleigh, a five-hour trip from Cullowhee. Because of my few friends and scatter-brained roommates who would most likely kill a fish in a day, I usually dragged Sparta with me. For five hours, Sparta whined and cried down I-40 or settled in my lap between my stomach and the steering wheel wondering when he would never set his foot down on solid ground again. Two nights later, we made the same trip back to Cullowhee with me sobbing at least half an hour of the way after saying good bye to Stuart with Sparta’s pitiful whines in the background.

             After a semester of that, I transferred to UNC-Greensboro to be closer to Stuart. Sparta moved into my new home where there was another male cat and a Labrador retriever. The male cat, Mac, refused to let Sparta out his grasp. Constantly, Mac mounted Sparta and pinned him by biting his neck in his small jaws. It took only a week or two for me to break down in tears over the stress and misery Sparta experienced. I handed him over to Stuart one hour away in Raleigh, heartbroken, promising to bring him back after Mac was neutered. Even then, Mac still abused and tormented my cat. For the rest of the semester, Stuart cared for Sparta, and I spiraled into a deep and deadly bout of depression as I pined away for the cat that had never meant much to me back when Piddy Paws and I were growing up together. Now, I committed so many fouls against my beautiful pet whose personality had started to alter because of the stress of it all."

To be continued...

Random Memory: Grandpa Menz

This memory needs a bit of background information...
I was a wild child growing up! No, seriously... like scary wild. I pretended to be a cheetah and ran around the grocery store growling at people, I never stopped moving, and had way too much energy! I was like a jet pack that never ran out of fuel! I'll never understand why my mother had more kids after me. She must have the unbelievable tolerance of small children I've ever seen. I was a handful!
So, whenever we visited my grandparents on my father's side, I was usually... well, bored. My grandfather worked at Helping Hands and did handyman tasks. There wasn't a thing he couldn't fix. I'm talking squeaky doors, broken bicycles, spammed computers, unflushable toilets, a bat stuck in the chimney. He was the poster child for that era where a man did everything himself and did it well. He rode his tractor around their expansive backyard, grew vegetables in a garden, sang in the church choir every Sunday, and made himself a fish pond full of monstrous carp (at least they were monstrous when I was 9). He was that guy in their small South Carolina town who was a grandfather to everyone's kids at church and that guy you called when you just didn't know what to do about anything.
My grandmother is ULTIMATE GRANDMOTHER! She sings in the church choir, she plays the organ, she gives piano lessons, she sews (she made me an overstuffed ottoman for my birthday!) and stitches, she cooks like a madwoman, and has gray wispy hair. She's the grandmother from Little Red Riding Hood, is Mrs. Cunningham, and Aunt Bea.

I love them both in my own way, but in my fits of fiery energy, I never sat and enjoyed their company. As far as I can remember, I played on my own and zoomed around the backyard and the apple orchard. My grandma tried to teach me piano... I had no patience for that. I learned "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and that was the end of my pianist career. My grandma tried to teach me to sew... I had no patience for that. She gave me a latchhook rug pattern in the design of Scooby Doo. The box says it's "easy" and "fast." ...I've been working on it for at least six years! 
The times I looked forward to seeing my grandparents was when my dad's twin brother Uncle Brad appeared on his rare trips from Atlanta, GA. Uncle Brad! Uncle Brad was the man!!!! He was this cool, laidback dude that owned a cat and just chilled in his condo in Atlanta with no wife, no kids, and no responsibilities. Kate and I tortured this poor man whenever he visited, making him play with our dolls and out in the yard. I think I am single handedly responsible for Brad never wanting to have children.

Then something happened. I grew up. I have the same energy, but now I know how to correctly use and put it toward constructive activities like biking to class or housework. And one weekend in the summer before I entered 11th grade at East Gaston High, my dad took my two sisters and I down to visit my grandparents. It was to be the last trip before school started, and I was a bit bummed about it because I wanted to spend my last days swimming in the pool and doing nothing. But away we went, and I distinctly remember it being an awesome trip. I started really hanging out with my grandparents, telling them all about my anticipated school year and what I'd done that summer. I have a sharp memory of laughter around the dinner table and learning so much about my grandfather all of a sudden.
On our last day, Grandpa and I had a battle of Solitaire. I had really gotten into the game on the computer as a way to ease summer boredom . Grandpa was also a master at the game, particularly at Spider Solitaire. However, game after game, I won easily! In fact, I ended up showing him a few tricks to help him with his game. He looked at me in wonder... or maybe it was horror at the realization of how much time I was spending on the computer. Either way, I have the strongest, sharpest memory of thinking, "I want to know more about this person. I actually can't wait to come back."

~~~

A day before school started back my mother comes into my room to wake me. Grandpa had gone to the hospital that morning for a scheduled triple bypass surgery. It would be the second in his lifetime. According to his doctors, he had a 99% chance of surviving. The surgery went fine. But afterwards, he never woke up. And per his request, my grandmother turned off the machines. 

And, I never got my chance. My only consolation is knowing that I had that last day, that God gave me that last day and made sure I appreciated it because He knew that it would be the last. 

I've never told anyone that. But it's a memory that's been bothering me lately, a memory that always pops up when school starts back again. I started my 11th grade year with the burden of my grandpa's passing and skipped out on Friday's classes to attend his funeral where I delivered a eulogy. I don't remember what I said. All I know was that I was scared out of my mind of giving a speech in front of a church of people. I also remember afterwards when I sat back down in the pew beside my sister Kate that it was one of the few times I've seen my dad cry. 

It's one of those memories that teaches a lesson, a reminder to never take that last moment for granted because it could be the very last. Nowadays, I don't get to see either my mother's parents or Grandma very much. It's hard living away from my parents who I have to drive to see. Unfortunately, my grandparents live in South Carolina and I can't see them all together. My parents' siblings don't live in North Carolina either. We see each other when we can. And, I never take a single moment for granted.

Graduating high school, Father on L & Grandma on R

An Open Letter to The Viking

Hey,
 How are you?
The last time we spoke to each other was a year ago today. So much has changed, so much hasn't. I wish all of this could be in person. I wish you'd actually be able to see this. I miss you.

I've been thinking about what I'd say to you here for weeks. It changes every day. I'm sure when I look back at this tomorrow I'll think of something I should have said and run it through my mind a thousand times wishing I had written it instead of something else or added a line or two, that all of my feelings were completely conveyed in what I'm about to write. Just another regret.
How are you and her? I heard you told her everything. I wish I had been there afterward to tell you both how sorry I am for everything that happened. It's not completely my fault, but some days, I take all the blame. That's all I want - to tell especially her how sorry I am to her face and not over an impersonal Facebook message through her roommate's account. I tried, I tried so hard to get her to talk to me. You did your best to make sure I didn't, and then you two together made sure we'd never speak again. I was never so hurt, shocked, and lost in my entire life. I won't tell you how low I sunk after that moment because I don't want you to have the satisfaction. But, it hurt. You knew how to hurt me the worst.
Maybe you weren't even thinking about me when you did it. But there had to be a part of you that knew how badly I'd feel when I learned from some stranger I could never talk to you again. Looking back, I told you "never to contact me again," but did I really mean it? No, not in the long run.
I'm transferring at the end of this semester. I'm going far across the state where there aren't any mountains or piles of snow. And yes, I'm running away from you and her and everything that happened. There's not a place on campus that doesn't remind me of you or her. I have to get out of here. I hate walking into a room and immediately scanning the room for red hair and my skin jumping when I see someone who looks like you. I can't stay here anymore, and I think you'd like to know that I'm leaving. Now you don't have worry about me anymore either.

What happened? Please, explain to me what happened! How did someone I share secrets with and let so far into myself now be unable to look me in the eye when we pass each other in the dining hall? Do you hate me? Does anger boil over inside every time you see me? Because it doesn't for me! I just feel an overwhelming sense of loss and an aching void. Is that sad and pathetic to still feel a year later?
Do you remember the good times we had? Watching a concert on DVD in your room the day before we left for Christmas Break as I helped you with a button on your shirt after we had unbunked your beds. Running up to you after I had finished my last exam and you swinging me up into a hug. Carrying me back to Walker after my sugar dropped when we were at Wal-Mart. Trying to convince me to skip class and stay with you for the afternoon in your room. Watching "Spongebob" one night and you tried to tickle my feet. Staring at each other in horror in my dorm room after Miles told her what he thought he knew. Did you trick me then... did you make me lie for you because you knew I'd do whatever it took to make you happy?
Part of me wonders if you were ever the person I thought you were. In some ways you have to be. Lisa told me about the person you were in high school, the same person that I thought I knew. Now it seems I've probably created and fabricated personality quirks about you that either don't exist or aren't to that extreme. Sometimes, I get the character you play in my novel mixed up with who you actually are. The person you are... are you a coward for not confronting me yourself and getting someone else to say the "bad" things for you? Are you brave and protective for "saving" your girlfriend from me? Or are you a vindictive, son of a bitch for what we did to her? Because you can bend the truth all you want, lovely, but that doesn't make what we did go away.
I'm glad she knows. When Lisa told me what happened, I was so relieved. Finally, I thought! Finally, that poor girl knows the truth and I can stop hoping and wondering and praying for the relationship that she was caught in. No one should have to live in someone else's lie. I wish I knew why you told her, where the light bulb came from. In the end, it doesn't matter. Thank you for doing it - for whatever reason you did - thank you.
You asked me once if I hated you. I never did. I've missed you and have cared about you since we were first together in November of 2009. I occasionally ask Cory how you are, if you're alright. If anything ever happened to you...well, I'd probably break every rule and I'd be there to make sure you were ok. I never hated you. I just miss your company. What I do hate is what happened between us. We both could have handled things better.
After all that's happened though, it's time to move on. You're never going to seek me out and apologize in person. I'm not allowed to. I have to accept that. I want you to know that as sad as this letter sounds I am happy. You might not care, I think you might, but I am happy. My life isn't perfect, but it's better than it was. There's this great guy who takes such good care of me. He's been so patient while I've been dealing with all of this. You two have similar music tastes to a certain extent. I think you'd like that about him. I'm very happy for you. I'm so happy, sincerely happy, that you and her are still together, that you've gotten through all of this and have stayed together... as long as it's for the right reasons. I hope you two last and I wish only the best for you both.
Now, it's time for good bye. I really do hope I hear from you again.  I do. In my dreams or my nightmares, we're good friends again. But for now, this is good bye. I hope you have a great summer and you find whatever you're looking for in this life.

Until then,

Lex

The End of the Catamount Era

Thursday was my last day of college classes as a Western Carolina University student. This week is just a lot of exams!!

Twister Night

A sadness overwhelmed me on Thursday, to look around and know it was the end. No one could understand. When I texted Morgan that it was my last day, he sent back "Wohoo!" But that wasn't what I was feeling at all. So much has happened in the last two years, so many amazing or horrendous things. I guess you could say they were all amazing in either a good or bad way. Honestly, I couldn't tell you exactly if there was more good than bad or vice versa. I think it was an close equal dose of both.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not regretting my decision to transfer at all! No, I'd never regret that... unless I got to Greensboro and it's a holy disaster, but I'm confident that won't be the case.
But I am sad that I'm leaving behind good friends, a good job, and a beautiful view of the mountains. I wish I could take them with me, except the mountains (at least for Little Honda's benefit).
The following was written for The Western Carolinian in my column "Off Campus Living 101:"

Climbing a tree

"Catamounts, this is not only the last "Off Campus Living 101" article, it is also my last editorial column working for The Western Carolinian.
"I am saddended that for the fall semester I will not be returning to Western Carolina University. Instead, I am transferring to finish out my college career in a place that I hope will bring me new opportunities, new networks, and new experiences. In August, Sparta and I will be moving out of our Cullowhee apartment into a rented house in a quiet suburb to be near one of the UNC mid-state college campuses. It will be a big adjustment for both of us - me to be living in a house and the work that goes into that and Sparta adjusting to living with a Labrador retriever and another cat. It should be interesting!

Honors College Formal

"I wanted to take the time to thank everyone at The Western Carolinian for supporting me and helping me shape and strengthen my writing. When I started as a contributing writer in the Arts and Entertainment section working for free, I never thought I would become News Editor, at least not in the span of less than two years! Also, I would like to thank the readers who would randomly come up to me if they realized who I was to share their excitement about Sparta or my rain boot fiasco last year. You guys were the reason I asked Justin Caudell if I could start "The Freshman Fifteen" and writing that column and this has been my favorite part of my job.

Birthday dinner

"My two years at Western have been nothing less than exciting and dramatic. I have learned so much and grown as a person. College was nothing like what I expected and certainly attending college in the little town of Cullowhee is not for the faint-hearted. The incoming freshman class of 2009 and I have faced being snowed-in over Christmas break, endless rain, power outages, losing a chancellor and gaining a new one, and the invasion of zombies! The experiences I have had and the people I have met will never leave my memory, and I hope to visit on occasion for shows at FPAC, Mountain Heritage Day, and other events that can be found only at Western Carolina..."
In response to my hard work and dedication, I received this award from Justin and The Western Carolinian. I was shocked, thrilled, proud, and sad simultaneously. Thank you to everyone there. This is will always hang on one of my walls:

The Tough Romantic Questions Part 1

These come from the "100 Questions to Ask before Marriage" blog. I was surfing through the Internet and thought they'd be interesting to answer since I've finally got some time of my hands and really wanted to post something! That could be a dangerous combination!!

Starting with the 'Do You?' Section, I would like to add a side note that Morgan doesn't know the answers to some of these questions. ...Huh.

1. Do you consider yourself to be an honest person?
I do indeed!! One of my strong beliefs in life is to never, ever lie! I can recall only three times I ever told a straight-faced lie, and one was to get out of gym class in 2nd grade. I wasn't so much lying that I was injured but I lied and said my dad wrote the letter when I had written it in class because he didn't have time that morning to write one. Though I was a kid, I still regret telling that lie. The others.... I try not to think about them. Then, my belief crumbled under pressure. It won't happen again.

2. Do you believe that love involves following your heart or your head?
From my personal experiences and what I've seen, you follow your heart when you love someone. I've done many stupid, stupid, retarded, lame, dumb mistakes out of "love" and gotten burned. I've seen my own family members and many friends do the same thing. So, I believe that you follow your heart for love but that I also believe you won't have a well-rounded, fulfilling relationship unless you also follow your head!

3. Do you still have feelings for someone what you once shared a relationship with?
I do. And I don't think Morgan will be surprised to hear that. For one person, I still have feelings of respect and a family-type of love. He knows who he is. The other... well, I can't really say what kind of feelings I still have for him. They're just as confusing and hurtful as our relationship was. I hope those feelings disappear.

4. Do you have an specific plans for the future when it comes to your permanent relationship?
As in this relationship? We plan to get a hamster over the summer. :) Due to our circumstances, that is as far as we're allowed to specifically plan right now!

5. Do you believe in living with someone before you married to them?
No, but I'm not exactly being the best model of that right now. I believe that if Morgan and I lived in the same town or had a place to stay that wasn't each other's apartment, we would not be living together.

6. Do you feel that a high value should be placed on money or relationships?
Relationships, yes. Money, no. And Morgan and I often have disagreements about this because he's very practical like my father. I think Father would enjoy that fact in Morgan as he saves and budgets in a very similar way that I watched my Father doing as I grew up. Maybe this is because I'm enthralled with the Moulin Rouge-themed idea that truth, beauty, freedom, and love are to be placed above all else (except for faith of course) and that I don't care about the money. It's great to have but an overflow is not necessary for my happiness.

7. Do you feel as if you are a trusting person? If not, what makes it difficult for you to trust others?
I'm not a trusting person. Ask the guy who screwed me over why.

8. Do you believe when people are just dating that it is ok for them to date more than one individual at a time?
As long as they up front and honest about it, why not? It's up to the other person whether it's ok or not for themselves.

9. Do you feel as if you are able to get along with others well, or do you feel as if most people do not understand you well?

Ah, a question after my own heart. No, I don't feel that most people understand me. You can ask my friends and they'll tell you that I'm one person at one minute and turn into someone else the next. I'm happy; I'm sad. I'm creative; I'm on a different planet. No one, including myself, knows what is going on inside my head. And, I kind of like it that way. I'm so used to no one gaining VIP passes into who I am that I stopped handing them out.

10. Do you currently have any type of financial goals for your future?
Uhhh.... ha! Not really. That probably scares Morgan.

11. Do you have a book that you consider your favorite of all time?
Wuthering Heights
Vulpes the Red Fox, this is the only book that I've read more than 3 times. This book with its description and characters, even with the crappy ending, I can never turn away from!
The first four pages of The Hobbit. They make me happy!

12. Do you view someone that you know or know of as a "hero"?
William Wilberforce. He fronted the movement to abolish slavery in England and its colonies. His life story depicted in the film Amazing Grace makes me cry every time!! That man... I want his passion about everything in life! I would love to have the type of marriage he had with his wife. I would love to make that kind of difference in at least one country. I would love to have that kind of determination and belief in something and fortitude.
"NO MATTER HOW LOUD YOU SHOUT YOU CANNOT DROWN OUT THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE!"

13. Do you often feel as if you are a victim of circumstance?
I am ashamed to say yes.

14. Do you suffer from a habit that you consider to be bad?
I bite my lower lip until it's all chapped and dry.
I grind my teeth, which drives Ma and Morgan up the wall!
I adapt my personality depending on who I'm hanging out with....

15. Do you feel as if you are a positive or negative person?
Depends on what question you're asking me on what day. This morning, that was a negative morning!

Random Memory: Dance

One of my favorite things to do is to reminisce. Lately, this memory has been popping into my head.

* * *

Kate took a year of dance before I did. I was jealous of her mostly because she got a trophy at the end. The next year, I took a combo class of jazz, tap, and ballet. The trophy totally wasn't worth it as I recall.

Often when Kate danced, Ma and I would wait in the little side room with the other mothers for their child to finish the 45-minute-or-so class. It was like a walk-in closet jammed with chairs.

That day I had to sit on the floor next to Ma's chair which was closest to the door. From my spot, I could watch the younger dance class practice, which had a bunch of blonde girls and one poor boy who looked miserable. Ma was in the chair grading papers for her high school biology course... or maybe it was 7th grade science?! The other moms were quietly reading, staring into space, or messing with whatever.

Suddenly, Ma let out a strange, LOUD cackle! If you've ever heard my mom laugh, you know she can really let it fly. She has this giddy cackle that can be heard for miles! And that's exactly what she did that day.

The other mothers immediately froze. I nearly jumped out of my skin from fright. We all stared at her.

When she finally noticed the rest of us, Ma continued to laugh.

"I'm grading my class's test papers," she said.

Apparently, one of them was either really dumb or really sarcastic and had written something completely outrageous. At that point in my life, I probably didn't get a high school science problem or why someone's answer would be funny in comparison to that problem. Back then, all I wanted was to play; I hated school! Which would explain why I don't remember what my mom told the women that day. It was Greek to me!

The rest of the room laughed, maybe a few out of politeness because it went over their heads, too. Then, the "closet" returned to quiet until it was time to gather up the dancers for home.

* * *

I don't know why I remember this simple story so vividly. I'm not even sure Ma will remember what I'm talking about after she reads this post. I guess it's because that was one of the few times I saw my mom as the center of attention of a larger group of people, particularly women.

Growing up, Father and Ma never had any parties at the house or went out with a large group of people, leaving Kate and me with babysitters. If there was ever a group they socialized with, it was when their Bible study group at Cook's Presbyterian Church started reading the Bible chapter by chapter and supposedly grew closer. Suddenly, all they were talking about was what this chapter meant and what So-and-So and Jane were doing. Even then, I never saw those interactions; I merely heard about them secondhand. Ma never had cocktails with the other lady teachers on a Wednesday; Father never spent a night out of the week to skip family dinner to hang out with his work office in Charlotte at a sports bar. It wasn't because we couldn't afford it. They just didn't. It was one of those things that we all shrug at because that's just how it was.

I'll probably always remember that day of Kate's dance class, and I'll probably never figure out why I remember it. It's just one of those random memories.