The Ninth Circle of Helen: April 2006

Helen gets multicultural

I learned something yesterday. Or, more accurately, I decided something, based on something I already sort of knew. Allow me to elaborate...

A small jewel or painted dot worn on the forehead of a Hindu woman is called a "bindi." This is a highly sacred symbol of the female energy, which is traditionally believed to provide protection to a woman and her husband. Here's a lovely example...

Got it? Okay. That's the part I already knew. As for what I learned/decided...

A crappy plastic jewel, usually purchased at Hot Topic or some other such worthless suburban retail cesspool and unceremoniously stuck to the forehead of a bored, bourgeois neo-hippie wannabe fashionista dumbass with no shred of respect for the sacred nature of cultural and religious traditions other than her own, is called a "target."

Sadly, I lack a photographic example, as the one I encountered on the subway last night got away too quickly. Guess she was pissed about the meeting between my gum and her eyelashes. Bourgeois neo-hippie dumbasses are evidently quite sensitive.

Holy shit

Please thank Dan, my dear friend and homeboy in Christ, for today's sermon.

Dan is one motherfucker who knows some shit about the Lord. Bitch.

Do yourself a favor

Quit dicking around and buy the brand new Twilight Singers record on iTunes. Like, right now. Nothing else you're doing at the moment could possibly be as interesting or musically worthwhile.

You're welcome.

Photo stolen from this poor bastard.

Ah, the Walk of Shame...

Not necessarily fun. But always, always funny.

There goes my hero

Much as I'd love to irritate you today, I'm far too busy repeating my mantra ("I will not drink enough to make co-workers seem attractive") in preparation for this evening's firm-sponsored open bar event.

Instead, I'd like to introduce you to Douchebag1. He'll keep you happy while I'm otherwise occupied. Trust me.

You kids have fun.

Looking good = feeling good

It's hard to feel "professional" (whatever the fuck that means) when three toes are sticking out of the giant hole in your sock, the hem of your pants is held up with scotch tape, and you're holding an ice cube on your tongue because you burned it all to hell with your morning coffee.

I will never, ever get promoted. Ever. I may as well start showing up drunk. Again.

On with the show

Huge, sincere thanks to any and all of y'all who expressed your sympathies, checked up on me, listened to me bawl, and/or put up with some version or degree of my shit over the last week. The big cat and I are still missing the little cat pretty badly, but we're sticking close together and adjusting, albeit slowly, to her absence. (It must be noted that the big cat is not at all unhappy with the vast amounts of extra attention she now receives. At least there's an upside for her.)

So now that the worst throes of the depressing personal crisis are over, let me get back to giving you what you really come here for. Don't say I never taught ya nothin'.

Bye Bye Love

Storm Damnation

aka Stinky

aka Babycat

September 1995 - April 11, 2006

Stormy put up an incredibly brave fight against her cancer over the last six months. She was happy and full of energy during most of that time, and never complained about the visits to the vet, or the gross-tasting medication, or even the pain. In the last two weeks, her health declined rapidly, and I made the decision to end her suffering today. With the help of two wonderful veterinary specialists, she passed away in her mommy's arms with her sister K.C. close by.

Say what you will about animals not being people, about the loss being lesser somehow. But people don't love you unconditionally. They just don't. People don't trust you completely and unquestionably. And they sure as hell don't fall asleep purring in your armpit every night.

Ten years is a long time to have someone...anyone...in your life, and living without her will be a painful adjustment for K.C. and me. My relationship with her outlasted so many others...boyfriends, roommates, friends...plenty of people came and went, but Stormy was always happy to see me when I came home at the end of the day. And believe it or not, this cat saved my life once. I, quite literally, would not be here without her. And yet somehow, now I am. It's still nearly impossible to believe.

The things I learned and gained from her are innumerable. She survived and overcame the horrible abuse she suffered as a tiny kitten, and over time, learned to love and trust me. She gave me hope that maybe someday I'll be able to do the same. She was graceful and sweet, even in the midst of terrible discomfort. As a mere person, I can only aspire to that kind of strength and humility. Stormycat also taught me something my mother never could...to pick up my dirty socks and underwear off the floor. It didn't occur to Mom that if she really wanted to school me, she should drag said items into her litter box and pee on them when they were left lying around. Storm was smart like that. She was a gorgeous animal, an adorable, pure soul, and I'm lucky to have known her. As godawful as I feel right now, I wouldn't trade my time with her for anything.

I am comforted by a few things that I believe to be true. I believe Stormy is finally back with Jordan, our boy cat, the love of her life, who died over four years ago. She missed him horribly. I know I did the right thing by letting her go when I did. Cancer is evil, and no one should suffer like that. I know that there are far worse things that happen in life. I also know that good can come of those things, if one chooses to make it so.

Many people...friends, family, roommates, co-workers, and even bloggers I've never met, have been unbelievably kind and amazing over the past few months. I don't even know to properly express my gratitude for that, so I will just say thank you, all of you. Your supportive words, thoughts, assistance, and understanding have been immeasurably appreciated.

Fortunate little bitch that I am, I know that some of you will ask me in the coming days if there's anything else you can do to help. Honestly, I'm okay. But if you have an urge to do something for the greater good and all that, please make a donation in Storm's name to these guys. BARC is a no-kill shelter that helps find well-screened homes for hundreds of dogs and cats every year. They're good people. And again...thank you.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some more crying to do, and a Xanax to swallow.

Bye, little pooper. Mommy loves you.

Uranus ring turns out blue

The great thing about being a complete retard is that no matter how old I get, this is still funny.

Work Sucks

"Wow, I really like your earrings," said totally not attractive co-worker I made out with after consuming roughly a gallon of scotch at the firm xmas party. "They really have flair."

I couldn't make this shit up if I wanted to. He actually used that word.

Needless to say, the earrings have been uncerimoniously disposed of, and the post below just became far, far less funny.

Available immediately...

Help me out here, kids. I need a new job. (I know Tommy Boy's is available, but that would involve relocation, so I'll have to pass.)

It doesn't have to be an exciting job, or even terribly fulfilling...just something that pays me at least $500 a month more than I make now, and doesn't involve showing anyone my vagina. This change will facilitate several necessary betterments in my world, namely allowing me to move into a decent apartment/neighborhood, pay some exorbitant veterinary bills, and slurp up enough high end single-malt scotch to pickle my organs, thereby rendering me immortal.

I have outstanding qualifications. No, really. I'll send you my resume if you want.

In the meantime, please consider...

Special skills: