the beginning

hello-
this is my blog. finally a real blog. no friendstermyspaceflikrjdategoodreads blog. a real blog.

This will surely make me a billionaire!!! yesssss!

haHA!

or just a place to feed my narcissism.

I just realized I actually kinda dig my blog name. I hate naming things. Always convinced my choice is too boring or stuffy or stupid or vapid or......overthought.

But I like this one.

Of course that's because it's not original.

As far as I know, the sentence/title "Running & Howling with Barrel Fever" has not been used for a public - er - publication. But it's a composition of 3 of my favorite writers..... You might be able to figure it out if you have the same lit tastes. Or even if you just bother to read a book or 2 now n then. or the cliff notes. or a book review.

anyway- hope this is good. oy. my inner charlie kaufmann is already rearing his self-berating head. Where's my drink? ahhhh the writer is born.

Gained a pound!!!

When I returned from my trip home last month, I found my 17 1/2 yr. cat, Misha, wayyy too skinny, disoriented, not eating. Just overall glum.

This after I paid a woman $25/day to feed him and observe him to make sure he was ok and not in need of medical attention. A woman referred to me when I called my vet to schedule hospital boarding. A woman who, looking at me and Misha at the hospital after my return, chuckled "yeah, he wasn't big on the whole eating thing...."

?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?

You're being paid to give medical attention to a 17 1/2 yr cat with moderate kidney deterioration and you think it's CUTE he doesn't want to eat??!?!?!

FOR 10 FUCKING DAYS?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!!!!!!

oy

anyway-- I spent a week working at home so I could force feed him every hour and just be with him.

today was his 2nd follow-up check after my emergency trip with him 2 weeks ago.

He's gained a pound!

Doesn't seem like much, but when you're a 17 1/2 yr cat and your weight dropped to a scary 4.15 pounds 3 weeks ago gaining a pound is a crazy amount and truly a miracle.

looks like the davening, red string, scanning, and buddhist charms do work.

or maybe it was the force-feeding, iv fluids, iron injection, daily iron boost injections, and daily steroids combined with a buttload of hugs and kisses and cheering him on when he ate on his own.

He's still a long way from the goofy playful goofball he was when I left for Chicago 5 weeks ago, but, per his usual kick-assiness, he's kicking major ass over here in Santa Monica.

Baryshnikov and Gorbechev have nothing on my maleekee Misha-

wheeeeeeee!

Chis Hedges and LA Times Festival of Books

"This presupposes there's something GOOD about the mainstream"

Beginning of an anwer to panel question....

I've never heard of Mr. Hedges until today when I attended "The Politics of Faith" panel at the Festival of Books today. Amazing man, I have to own and read all his books in addition to reading all his essays on TruthDig and The Nation....

If you don't know about him either, here's an easy place to start-
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chris_Hedges

then another-
www.chrishedges.org

Then go to Amazon.com and buy his latest book -

American Fascists: The Christian Right and the War on America

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Fascists:_The_Christian_Right_and_the_War_on_America

http://www.amazon.com/American-Fascists-Christian-Right-America/dp/0743284437/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-4840182-8858238?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1177834402&sr=8-1

do me a favour and let me know what you think

what I learned today...

I was lucky enough to be invited as a VIP guest to Donald Trump's Wealth *cough* live 8-hour infomercial *cough* Summit.

I learned some things today-

1. Only poor people are willing to pay $6000 for a book that will teach them how to protect themselves from losing their money stupidly.

2. Ivanka Trump sure loves herself. and her daddy.

3. You can get wicked strong free unlimited wi-fi at the bar/lobby of the Hyatt Century Plaza Hotel.

4. If you sit in said bar surfing the net long enough, the cabana boy will bring you a bowl of really yummy wasabi covered peanut butter thingies...yum...

5. They shoot movies at the Hyatt Century Plaza Hotel.

6. CAA is quite ominous looking from the bar/lobby of the Hyatt Century Plaza Hotel.

7. CAA agents hang out at the bar/lobby of the Hyatt Century Plaza Hotel. (or at least expensively dressed-all-in-black, clenching cell phones and blackberries, ridiculously coiffed with too much product snotty people - why would I assume they're CAA agents.....)

8. If your job is making your head all dizzy, it's ok to email in sick on what you expect to be an insanely busy day.....they will survive without you and your brain will slowly unmush...

al gore, kcrw, and al's huge hands

so I met Al Gore last Thursday morning at a book signing here in LA

I made a point of wearing my volunteer-exclusive Sounds Eclectic Evening kcrw t-shirt hoping he might ask me about it.

I walk up....dumbfounded and a wee intimidated by his massively large hand reaching toward me to greet me with a firm handshake...

As we grip each other's hands (aaaackkkk! where did mine go?!!?? it's lost in the midst of this super-human politician hand!) he inspects my shirt and says "great shirt!"

*choke* "thank you" *smile*

I try to think of the smart, informed bullet points I'd planned to share with him but all I could think of was how large his hand and head are and how in awe I am of him and how crazy it was I was standing here before him and he was signing my book and how he liked my kcrw shirt and should I tell Nic Harcourt and should we send him a shirt and my GOD I need to pitch the station to him and in my choking haze surrounded by secret service agents and news cameras....

I raised my hands held in rock-star devil ears and proclaim "npr rocks!"

and Mr. Gore, nodding in agreement says "yes, yes it most certainly does, doesn't it"

Next time on Kara's blog:

my ex-boyfriend's wife

and nobel peace prize winners vs. G*d

change

These past 2 weeks....ok a wee more than that...have had a steady dark cloud over my "circle of life"

Death

The unexpected death of the daughter of a dj I only know from our 5min smiles exchanged each Monday morning...I was shocked to find a tear rolling down my cheek as I read the email.

The long-anticipated death of the young daughter of a good acquaintance of mine. Since I still vividly remember it, I guess I'll never forget that sunny Saturday afternoon in that park on Riverside/Victory. After the Sacred Fools "retreat". Sitting on a park bench with her dad and Joe Jordan. Watching her in awe of the small green grasshopper on her arm. Lizzie was a bright beautiful flower in the middle of my grey life at that time.

My cat wobbling on my patio - reminding me his days with me will be short.

The woman for whom I babysat for 8 years was found dead in her sleep 2 weeks ago. Last Wednesday I suddenly had a strong feeling about that family...feeling guilty I'd not made contact with the family in 5 years thinking "oh no! I wonder if the father is ok?! I need to contact them before he dies so I can make sure both the parents know how much I appreciated them in my life!" Last Friday I got the call from my mother that the funeral was a week ago.

sigh

Today I learned a good friend is now so alcoholic she's slowly killing herself with the alcohol she consumes nearly 12 hours a day. Calling her vet panicked her white mouse has black spots. The vet explaining to her, while washing the spots off, that their orgin is a marker, not disease. She called 2 days later panicked with the same black spots on the same mouse. I remember all the fun I had with her 10 years ago. And her 10 cats. And how 8 of them were under 2years old. And us laughing about how, in 10 years, she better be a millionaire to have the time/money to care for 8 geriatric cats! and now I wonder what's happening to poor Willow...does Julie notice him anymore? Does she care? I'm both releived and feeling guilty for pulling away from Julie when I felt alcohol was too important to her. From the description our vet and friend gave me, it sounds like the Julie who lit up many days and nights for me is now dead on the floor of some bar in lincoln park.

and the CD that was playing when I began this depressing rag is strangely appropriate for where my mind and heart has been recently

battery acid

Just extricated myself from an oppressive, abusive environment.

Sometimes you wish you never learned something about someone...

2 words to describe my former housemate:
Battery
Acid

He knows what that means. I have the scars on my hands to remind me.

I'm still unpacking. Bringing my lingerie drawers and pillow to the police. Mailing my key to my former landlord. Enjoying watching my 16yr cat being playful for the first time in over a year.

more later