MadameBastet-Firing-Neurons

Hail Augustus

The first Emperor of Rome, formerly known as
Octavian, grand-nephew of Julius Caesar, was
purportedly a lucky man in what is now this,
the 8th month of the year, obviously named after him.
Yes, we call this month August, and with
it comes the waning, unofficial last days of summer,
although with this crazy weather, we can expect
the wretched bloody heat well into October, if
not November. Ah, there's nothing like an 85 degree Thanksgiving.

I fell asleep on the couch earlier tonight and now
I'm awake and it's after 3am. I ate much too much
chocolate, which is unusual for me as I'm not crazy
about chocolate. I have to really be in the mood for it.
Everything in excess with the food! Aristotle would've
just been so irritated with me. Everything in moderation
my dear, even moderation. Ha, I'm irritated with
myself.

Took the cats to the vet over the weekend. Well,
actually Zoe ended up seeing two vets. After 11
years, I now realise that wasn't a great idea. Zoe
let it be known after getting a rabies shot, a
thermometer up her kitty behind, lights shone into
her eyes, her heart monitored, her ears looked
out, her mouth pried open (which revealed two
nasty cavities) that she'd had enough....by starting
the loudest fight I've ever heard with her sister
in the examining room. I normally take both girls
to the vet in the same carrier and have had no
problem. Zoe turned into a wildcat, thrashing and
screaming and scaring us all to death. Poor Fletcher.
She did get one good swipe in, right across Zoe's
nose. I stood there, with Gena, and did nothing.
Hey, I value my hands people.

Zoe has to have dental surgery Wednesday morning
to extract her two teeth. They tried to get blood from
her on Saturday but holy shit! The sound that came out
from the back of that vet clinic was not animal, not human.
We all just stood there and stared at each other. I considered
bringing a priest in. When a big, burly male vet tech brings
your cat out and says, "We're not getting any blood today"
you know you've got a tigress on your hands. God I hope
they fare better with her on Wednesday morning. Poor baby.
Now she's alseep on the bed, on my pillow, looking so cute and
innocent. She's not fooling me anymore. I should keep one eye
open when I sleep.

So a lot of things are happening this month. I will find
out if I passed the Test from Hell on the 21st. I am flying
to Chicago on the 16th to meet up with H and S, and to see
the Church as a real live fan, without having to work the
merch table. I won't be a 'merch wench' as Heather so
aptly put it. I must also somehow extract another hug from
Rob Dickinson, and convince Steve I am NOT stalking him.
I've never done anything like this; it feels a little strange, but
exciting too. Since I saw the Church at the first two shows,
I feel a little robbed...as they seemed to hit their stride
on their third show, haha. Missed the boat. I only hope
they still have enough energy for us when the 18th
comes around. Although a less-than-stellar Church
concert is better than any other concert I could ever
see. I also want to visit The Art Institute while I'm in
Chicago. I've always wanted to go there; they have
such amazing pieces of art - pieces I taught for years
but haven't seen in real life.

Speaking of my teaching, I ran into a former student
today in a card store. I heard this tiny female voice say
"Professor_________" (the line being my last name
which y'all aren't getting here) and I thought, "Oh wow,
someone else has my last name" which is pretty nuts
because I've never met anyone in almost 40 years
who shares my last name. I forgot who I was once, ha.
She was really sweet; she told me she and her friends still
talk about my class and how much they enjoyed it. We talked
about what each of us were doing. Gena managed to really
embarrass me by waltzing up and telling this girl how I needed
to hear this as "she feels she hasn't made a difference" or
some such litany of my personal insecurities. I wanted to
kick her in the ass, frankly. I kept saying, "Gena, Gena,
GENA" louder and louder as if to say, "SHUT THE FUCK
UP PLEASE." I mean, Christ, who wants their former student
knowing all their personal feelings of potential career failure
and insecurities? Wasn't that nice of my friend? I'm so pissed
at her. Lately she's been on my fucking case and I've had it. I can
tell a 'talk' is coming. She really has no right to judge me on my
career, or feelings about such career, or work at all. What would she know
about work? That sounds terrible but it's true. She's
almost 43 years old and has never had a real job in her life. She
rides the lazy wave of her husband's efforts and even though
they're having financial problems, she refuses to get a job. God.
Who needs enemies when you have friends willing to blast it all
over the mall what you really feel like inside all the time. If I want
to tell people, that's one thing. But I don't appreciate my friends
(I'm starting to use that term loosely here) telling strangers things
I tell them in confidence. Or what I thought was confidence.

I have to go to her husband's graduation on Saturday at Pepperdine.
I kind of dread this, for personal reasons. He is getting his MBA, which he
got while working full-time, an impressive feat. But every time I go back
to Pepperdine, I am overwhelmed with emotion. It is my alma mater,
and also the place where I lived out some of the best, and some of the
worst times of my young life. They're having the ceremony in the same
place I graduated all those years ago. I don't know why I get so emotional
there, but I do. Funny. I'll probably cry and it won't even be about him. The
past often has a hold on me and it's hard for me to go back, whether it was
good or bad. This is probably why I'm not fond of people from my past
crawling out of the woodwork, contacting me and wanting to rehash shit
that went down years ago. When I walk away from something or someone,
I normally do not want to go over the situation in all its minutiae. Get it?
Got it? Good. :)

Anyway, I felt sad telling my former student I wasn't
teaching art history anymore and why. It was only a
couple of nights ago as well that I checked my old Yahoo
email address and found another former student had
written me, telling me my class had completely changed
her LIFE (geez!) and how she wanted
to study art now, blah blah blah. Wow. Very nice. It's nice
to know you've made an impact on people's lives. It's sad
because teaching art history is definitely my first love, but
I cannot make a living at it. Some things just sucketh.

So I am going to start school yet again at the end of this
month, for my teaching credential. I have about 10 million
birthdays to remember this month as well. I swear, I've
never seen so many people who have birthdays in August.
November must be a really sexually arousing month for
couples. My grandma, aka, The Immortal, turns 93 this month.
My other grandma, who died in 1995, would be 106 on the
16th. I miss her. A lot. My mom turns 67 and we're all already
feeling the heat from her on this one. She is really bitter about
getting older. It's a bitch, no doubt about it. But what's the
alternative? Well, look at my dad. He'll be 53 forever. That's
the alternative.

I hate summer. I'm never sorry to see it go.
It can't go fast enough for me. Especially this
summer, with its brutal heat and odd humidity.
Autumn has always been my favourite season,
which is odd, considering we don't really have
very distinct seasons where I live. But if you
look around, we are surrounded by trees whose
leaves change, and become wildly colourful.
Occasionally we might even get a cool, crisp day.
In my youth, I remember actually frost and cold
days. Global warming has taken care of that. I like
the clothes of autumn, the smell of autumn. I even
like the Santa Anas, although they always seem to
bring the inevitable fires. This is when I wished I
lived in New England or some place where I could
really have an authentic season. Maybe someday.

Augustus was that rare emperor who ruled
quite successfully, and died in his own bed. So
many of the Roman emperors, especially during
the dark days of the end of the empire, were
killed, assassinated, committed suicide or 'forced
to commit suicide.' I love that last one. I always loved
that nut Nero, who said, "What a great artist dies in me"
before kicking it. What a moron. Augustus brought about
the 200 year period called the Pax Romana, or
'Roman Peace.' Peace in Rome. What did that mean?
They only conquered and slaughtered a few
thousand people, as opposed to hundreds of thousands?

Perhaps it is Augustus and his diplomacy we need now,
heading into the 3rd week of war in the Middle East.
Sadly, I fear nothing will ever stop the Jews and Arabs
from fighting. The hatred, deep-rooted and seated, the
fear, the self-righteousness of both sides...they are going
to dig in until every last one of us is somehow directly
or indirectly killed by their insane hate. I fear it will be
some crazy terrorist group that gets the bomb.

CNN did a special today on the question of whether
these are the true 'end days' - as in the Biblical end
days. I am either going straight to Hell, or I'm totally sane,
because watching preacher after preacher screaming
about being ready for the rapture, and being taken up
any moment, Armaggedon, the Tribulation,
and the Seven Years of Rule by the Anti-Christ kind
of cracked me up. I think Paula Zahn was having trouble
taking it seriously too. Well if it's happening and I'm laughing
and damned, then so be it. I can't stop any of this shit.
At least I'll go out with a smile on my face.

Photo: Augustus, first emperor of Rome, nee Octavian