Introductions

Before talking incessently about these people and cats that spice my life up so sweetly, I find it only fitting that they are properly introduced.

The In-your-face, black and white cat-with-attitude is Stella. She hails from Tijuana. Was actually rescued by John's friend who found her chained behind a house across the border that was using kittens to blood pit bulls. Horrifying. Stella rules the roost - is most definitely in charge of her two doting bipeds. She spends much of her day patrolling the perimeter of the apartment and the rest of the day either antagonizing Monty or staring disdainfully at Lucius.

The long orange cat is Monty. He is the baby of the family. He's a coy, lithe boneless thing who throws me into fits of giggles at night when he jumps up on the bed and rolls on his back in the most seductive of postures. Stella thinks he's a whore. Monty isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but then John says, "How smart does he need to be?"

So that brings me to John Menier, the human in the photos. He's the love of my life. He's witty and smart (and tall). You can read all of his musings on his own blog, which is linked at the right. He and I have been together for almost exactly a year and live on the first floor of an old Craftsman home with the three beasties you see above. Lucius, the white cat, is the only one who was mine originally and he is extremely attached to me . . . sometimes seems to only be happy when he's in my arms. John says he understands completely.

So now that everyone's been introduced, I can talk about them ad nauseum. Tonight, however, I just want to take a little bit of time to bitch about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. John and I have been talking incessently about this topic. He sends me gads of links to editorials and appalling news stories from work. Why our government couldn't get themselves together enough to take care of the Gulf in its hour of need (not 72 hours AFTER its hour of need) and then continues to deflect questions about why it took so long for them to get there by saying that it is not the right time to play the "blame game," is absolutely beyond me. (See my link below to see a transcript of the press briefing from a couple of days ago - my favorite example thus far) This goes so far beyond Barbara Bush's horrifying and insensitive comments about the poor people of New Orleans being better off in the Astrodome than in their own homes, and Dubya's assinine remarks about sitting on the front porch of Trent Lott's new home and partying down in N'Awlins in his youth. This is a negligence and apathy that needs to be addressed and goddamn it if we aren't all going to sit here and watch these idiot stuffed shirts sweep it messily and quickly under the rug. Bush says there'll be an investigation (self-realization?) but I have huge doubts about it ever happening...

I have two cousins directly affected by this storm. One of my cousins lived in Gulf Port, Mississippi, and is now homeless and living with her mother in Illinois while her husband goes back into the fray to help with the search and rescue operations. Now, this is a girl who lives off the land. She did Outward Bound missions for fun when she was in high school and lived on a huge floating university for a semester in college that stopped off for weeks at a time in third world countries. She's a tough cookie, and when she's terrified and unable to cope with a situation, I know that something is horribly, horribly wrong.

My other cousin is in the military stationed outside of New Orleans and was evacuated and now is back down there doing airlifts. I don't think their home was destroyed but their lives have certainly been upended.

And here I am feeling totally helpless and stupid in California. I'm poor as a church mouse and so am trying to figure out what I can give to my family to help. I just feel like there's so much that needs doing and I am here simply crying about it. It won't be that way for long, however, as I am working in Miami from October through April and so will begin a massive drive in my '98 Hyundai through the deep South. I'm a little nervous. Not sure if the roads I was going to take are still in existance or will be passable by the time I have to leave, but if that's the only way this hurricane affected me, I think I'm doing all right.