4 December 2020

 Oddz-N-Endz #857,231,820x42

Okay. So.

I have had, at various times, more than one friend who has the same name. At one point my editor and a friend had the same name, which was fodder for a bit of confusion at times…and I would give anything to have that confusion back, as my friend passed away far too young. I still miss her. I’m still feeling stabby on her behalf.

Most of the time it’s not a big deal…unless one of those friends happens to be extremely well known, to the point of damn near being a cultural icon, and the other is this nice, sweet soul who already has to deal with having the same name as someone famous.

And sometimes that spills over onto social media, where other people with whom I am acquainted note the friends’ name and assume it’s the famous person…who, if you pay close enough attention, occasionally comments on my posts. Their FB account is locked down pretty tight, so they show up in my number of friends but not on the list. Which is neither here nor there but it popped into my head and I typed it out, and I’m not going to backspace because I am that lazy.

The point…sending me private messages to get me to put you in contact with said famous person is not going to work. Yes, you can see that name on my friends’ list (unless they locked it down, too, which now that I think about it they’d be insane not to) but that doesn’t mean it’s who you think it is.

Confusing much?

Just…don’t try to message them thinking you have an inside track to someone well known. If they wanted to be public, they would be public, and there’s other public social media you can join and perhaps connect with them there. I’m not going to pass along messages, not going to get you autographs, not going to show them your novel/screen play/artwork/blog address.

Sound mean? Maybe. I don’t intend to be. But a few people have harassed one friend believing it to be another, and that’s not fair.

If you have a friend who happens to know someone well known…let it go. Don’t use them.

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Speaking of FB.

There’s that whole “Memories” thing, giving you a glimpse into old posts. I generally like it, and I appreciate it now more than ever because it’s showing me tons of posts I made about Max and Buddah. Yet I’m kind of reticent to share most of them because I don’t want to inflict compassion fatigue on my friends by overdoing it.

2015...no idea how this happened.

But other than the shit-ton of memes I post, a lot of what I tossed up onto FB has been about the cats. So most of the memories FB shows me is about them.

If I post more than what feels healthy…I apologize up front. I still miss the snot out of them but am gradually reaching that point where I smile instead of tearing up when I see pictures, but I still tear up a lot. Most of those pictures on FB make me laugh, so I’ll share the ones that whisper to me. Y’all can scroll past if it gets to be too much. I’m honestly not trying to make you sad.

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And on the cats front…no, we are absolutely not getting another pet for a while. My gut says a couple years. The emails and PMs telling me I’m wrong and we’ll buckle because we need cats, and the ones that claim Max and Buddah will send us more kitties are not especially welcome right now and are actually a bit hurtful. So please stop.

We’ve discussed this over the last few years knowing they were getting older, especially as Max declined. He required a hell of a lot of care in the last year to year and a half, and we were tied to the house. That’s not a complaint; I would gladly had done it for years to come for him and for Buddah. But we’re now at a point where (once COVID-19 is in the rear-view mirror) we can travel pretty much on a whim. If we want to fly down to Anaheim on Tuesday morning to go to Disneyland, we can. If we want to spend the day in San Francisco, we can go without obsessing over how the cats are doing. Las Vegas? Sure, why not.

Yes, we could have hired pet sitters. But if the worst had happened while we were gone, I never would have forgiven myself. By staying home, sticking close, we were able to give them the time and attention those old men deserved. There are zero regrets about that.

But now that they’re gone…I want some freedom. I don’t think it’s selfish. So please stop telling me I’m getting another cat soon.

A year from now, I may change my mind. But for now…no.

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I think I’m done Christmas shopping. Which means, of course, that I will find a dozen things between now and then that are perfect for someone…and I will totally get them.

Poor UPS guys…

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Done decorating, too. Christmas threw up in our front room. Shame no one will probably see it.