forethoughtgirl
@forethoughtgirl
She/her. Crazy cat lady. Paranoid schizophrenic, depressive, anxious. More fun at parties than you can imagine, if you can imagine very little. I post cats and sky pics and rail about municipal politics. Newfoundlander in Toronto.
Blubbering like a little kid now with this warm furry one on my chest. I'm remembering a day at Signal Hill after my dad died in 2005. It was so long ago and feels so fresh.
Sometimes I feel like a horrible waste of space, but then Mandelbrot will lay on me and everything is better.
So my lil Cthulhu has been said to resemble a scrubbing bubble. Ben would totally approve.
Dinner at what I affectionately refer to as Indian Standard Time.
Father's day is always rough. I miss my dad. I miss my friend. I loved him very much.
The replacement shade that I purchased for my antique lamp refuses to sit straight.
Post the best picture you have ever taken of your pet (if you feel like it):
It sucks, Julie! Mandelbrot is being snuggly, so I know how crap my mood has been. She's very aware of me.
When i say knowing she was alive that's what I mean. I went no contact in 2012. Had just reopened the lines of communication right before she passed. Like, 8 months before. I had a Papa dream and it made me want to be in the loop where my mother was concerned.
My mother was a hard woman. (It's fucking with my head how much I miss knowing that she was alive.) She had really compelling stories. She wore a sari like no one else. She loved hockey and tennis. She was pretty. She was well educated, and a great teacher (Gander Academy grade 4). But oh so hard.
Roux for bechamel. Brown butter. Salt, pepper, freshly grated nutmeg. AP flour. (Fatima's making lasagna)