Katastrophe incarnate

Well darlings, I’ve not gone out to deal with the masses today.

     Today was the day for a bit of baking and replenishing my syrups. While being my usual extra self of course. 

   I’ve made two loaves of molasses brown bread, a batch of brownies, a batch of scones, and have two batches of pumpkin rolls rising now. 

While all that’s been going in and out of the oven, the stovetop has been equally active. 

Lavender, chamomile, and elderberry syrups are cooling. Coffee and lavender lemonade concentrates are bottled and stored. Orange, coffee and brown sugar liquers are mixed and stored to steep for their potency to the side as well. 

   The kitchen smells amazing at least, and my partner has been adorable helping me. Granted his job has mostly been doing the bending and looking after our niece while I’m working in the kitchen. 

  See I’m not always dealing with horrid people in my hometown. Some days I stay home! 

Just when I thought I was feeling back to normal, Mother Nature throws the biological curveball. 

   So I’ll be here curled up by the fire, a cup of tea in my hand and a book to keep me occupied. 

I’ve been a dull thing this morning readers, catching up on some correspondence, working on a project and watching a couple movies I thoroughly enjoyed. All at the same time because that’s how my brain works. 

  But upon returning from my shower to dress and prepare for the afternoon, a curious new message awaited me. 

  How I wish leash laws applied online as well! 

   Gather round darlings, it’s tea time with Lady Kat! 

  Now that we are all comfortable, a bit of back story. For some godforsaken reason, people who went to school with me think I give half a damn what they’re doing with their lives. I keep up with the ones I care to and those who haven’t earned that distinction may exist in their own delusions far the fuck away from me! 

  One such blight on my memory chose to contact me, and while I won’t go into particulars, has chosen to blame me for their recent marital woes. I had to slog through their poor grammar and pitiful attempts at insults, “attention seeking slut” being the most well thought out one. 

  Apparently they married one of the young men I went to school with, poor dear, and blames him seeing me and several of our former classmates for lunch a few months ago as the reason he’s leaving her. It can’t possibly be that she’s a toxic cow with the social grace of a goblin bog witch, no it must be the goth chick he sat next to in a group of eight. I was confused barely having spoken to the man at that lunch. I was far too busy catching up with the couple who’d come all the way across country to see family and made time to have this lunch! They’ve been gone almost a decade, for pity’s sake I spent the time discussing the watercolor portrait they wanted to commission me to do. I gave everyone at lunch a card with my email on it, this was obviously my mistake. 

   Now, personally I found her attempts at insult funny, but the attached picture in the email caused me the hardest eye roll of the week.it was a smile, not salacious, not alluring, but a simple smile. He was holding my chair back as I was sitting down, and I dared to smile at him in thanks. I know, I’m a terrible Jezebel, practically the Whore of Babylon, smiling at a man for being chivalrous.

Oh and let’s not forget how I was dressed, do please control the drooling dears, but a goth Velma Dinkley adequately describes my outfit. Black turtleneck sweater, black skirt, and tights and Mary janes. My hair was pinned up in a bun and I looked ready to either solve a mystery or collect a late fee on your overdue library books. To read the message you’d think I dressed as Elvira. 

Scandal! But let’s be fair to the brainless assailant here, I have before and often do dress with that goddess of the night as inspiration. Just not this time. 

  Shock of the century I didn’t give it another thought. The few people I spent any time with after high school were those few weirdos like me, punks with impeccable manners, goths who recite random poetry at hate protesters, theater kids with all of the Bard’s best insults memorized. The gentleman in question was one of the band kids who hovered outside that group but was polite and cordial when meeting in public. He was invited to our little lunch when he moved back to town, but the new wife is what we call “peaked in highschool” and is not aware no one appreciates her “advice”. 

No sooner than I read the email did a new one pop up. Explaining how the cow got my email, from the card I gave everyone in the group. And how apologetic the husband is his soon to be ex is harassing me. I’ve passed along the name of a lovely lawyer friend to him, and ignored her. The blasted woman has since sent five emails calling me the worst insults her limited vocabulary can come up with. I’ve since forwarded them to her husband for use in the upcoming proceedings. 

    I’m meeting the poor man for lunch next week with my partner and a couple other friends. The lawyer being one of them, should make for a lively discussion don’t you think? 

Oh darlings, don’t you just hate it when you have to disavow the ignorant of their dearly cherished misconceptions? 

Who the hell do I think I’m kidding, you all know I live for these moments! 

Now come in close, it’s story time with Lady Kat! Everyone get comfy, this one has three absolute characters. 

First we have a charming young person, politely doing their job and minding their business like any normal human being. Dressed appropriately for their job, nothing out of the normal range, wouldn’t have been mentioned if not for me. 

We’ve mentioned before that Lady Kat here is hard of hearing. So when my father offered to take me to lunch while we were running our errands, when we got to the restaurant the server was wearing a mask. This isn’t mandatory but a lot of people in my area who work good service or at the schools tend to still wear them. Well this young person was rather soft spoken, and I asked them to just speak up as I’ve not had even my usual poor hearing in a week. 

They couldn’t do that, and my father piped up that I can read lips if that helped. They nodded and pulled off their mask. This is where the other two players in todays performance enter. 

  We shall call them, Busybody and Combover. Busybody was the type of woman who still wears enough hairspray daily to account for the hole in the ozone layer and has a “Live Laugh Love” decoration in at least three rooms of her home. Combover obviously married her out of some demented obligation before they finished college and looks at young women  just a bit too long when Busybody isn’t looking. Both have serious issues with facial piercings as we shall soon witness. 

The server had both a septum piercing as well as a labret. I also have a labret piercing. This becomes a feature of our tale. 

Approximately 32 seconds after they removed their mask to speak to me, Busybody begins spluttering about “unprofessional” and other bullshit. Combover begins snapping, actually snapping, at the server. 

The kid turns bright red and tries to signal them they’d be with them in a moment, as we’d just started to order.

Cue more snapping and hugging. My father started to get anxious. He knows me you see? 

I put in my order for the salad on special, a lovely Caesar with grilled salmon, fantastic really. Then stood and turned to the couple who were haranguing the server. 

 Now I’m not a purposefully antagonistic person, but some things set me off and the full force of my personality comes out. My father knows that look, and usually he takes steps to avoid the blast radius. 

Today he motioned the server away, and the poor kid scurried over afraid another tirade was waiting for them at our table. Dad just smiled at them kindly and told them to enjoy the show. 

I waved the older lady at the front of the restaurant over, knowing exactly who she is. You see that’s the benefit of having such a social family, that enjoys dining out, so the managers and owners of these small family restaurants we love so much? We recognize all of them. And wouldn’t you know it, they know us too. 

   As Combover starts blustering at me, loud enough for not only me to hear, but the rest of the restaurant, the owner makes her way over. The look on her face as thunderous as my mood. 

I informed Busybody that being rude is not in-fact their right as a customer, and the hairspray hoarder looked aghast I’d spoken to her over her ill mannered companion.  He started trying to speak over me, poor dear, and seemed surprised when I ignored him entirely only increasing my volume speaking to his dining partner. 

  This went on for the three or so minutes until the owner got to us, her knees are what they used to be and I honestly think she was enjoying the show. The server was looking between the rude couple and me and their boss, my father was resigned this was happening. 

   Finally Busybody can’t take the volume, or perhaps was embarrassed, and asks me why I’m ignoring the lout with her. 

“Because men who behave so ignorantly out in public don’t have anything to say I care to listen to” 

By this time the owner was with us, greeting me and my father with a smile that blew the wind right out of Combover’s sails. 

He still had the audacity to demand the server remove their jewelry at work, calling it unprofessional and claiming I was being antagonistic and rude as well and be made to leave. 

To her credit she didn’t laugh out loud. I did, the server sniggered, even Dad let out a chuckle. 

The server is the owner’s grandchild. She paid for the piercings. The chances she’d enforce such a moronic idea is laughable. Busybody was already embarrassed, Combover seemed to think I’d still be possible to remove. 

Nope. 

I’ve done multiple watercolors for not only their restaurant, but my last portrait was of the same grandchild for their grandparents forty-fifth anniversary. I was commissioned by their eldest daughter, who went to school with my mother. Don’t you just love small towns? 

I am fully aware I am too much for some people. 

Intimidating, one of the favorite words to describe me. 

Dramatic? Yes I suppose I can be. 

My intensity is not to be diminished just because some people can’t handle me. 

I learned a long time ago what to tell people who seem to be made so uncomfortable by me. 

CHOKE 

Darlings! I am shocked and amazed, truly you have to believe me! I thought for certain I was unflappable these days! 

And yet…..

Well buckle in darlings, we’re going on a journey together now. 

I finished my morning routine and stopped at the gas station for a coffee, which was a waste of time as I didn’t even manage to get to the machine. I was wearing a pair of joggers and a Poison crop top with a cardigan and scarf and hat because it’s misty and cold in the mornings now. This comes back. 

   This was before I’d had coffee, tea, anything caffeinated at all! I hadn’t bother with a bra? How dare I! 

   That seems to be what this couple seems to have been thinking. 7:45 in the morning and Ward and June had the “I’m heading to church” look in this area. Suit and tie on him, dress and heels for her. Hair styled, they even had hats! Which I can respect, truly. 

This attitude they had, killed that. 

They attempted to shame me, in that sheltered way that assumed I give two fucks or shared an iota of their beliefs. 

I laughed when Ward wannabe asked me if I had any self respect. Faux June tried to tell me I’d never find a respectable husband, which cracked me up further. 

I pulled off my hat and scarf, un styled my hair is wild and without the scarf pulled up my lip ring was visible. Cue the pearl clutching!

“I’ll let my husband know when I get home, he’ll be glad he won’t be replaced with anyone so dull!” 

I left shortly after, before they could reattach their jaws. 

I’m flattered they thought I was a student, I haven’t looked that young in a long time! 

I’m feeling more like myself today, so a little spooky self care felt like the way to go. 

A set of witchy talons and a makeup look inspired by some of my favorite spooky director’s work, yeah I’m feeling back to myself. 

Now to go out and see what manner of mischief I can find. We all know I’ll turn heads lol. 

Perhaps I’ll relay some of my mischief when I get home? 

Given the caring response to my previous post, I’d like to thank everyone who read and offered supportive advice. Some of which I feel the need to further explain my situation. 

    When I was a child it was determined I was born with a very specific kidney issue. In vaguest terms, the kidney and bladder were poorly connected and the situation became dire when I was between three and four years old. I went septic three times before the exact medical issue was diagnosed. Most of my fourth year on this earth was spent back and forth between doctors and the hospital. A surgery and looooooong recovery later and I was a normal child once more. Or so we thought. 

    When you’re a small child and already don’t communicate quite as effectively as your peers, one pain easily cancels out any other especially when your abdomen feels like it’s housing a spiky little dragon that occasionally shoots fire through your tummy. It’s been a while but I still remember the pains. But the smaller irritating pain of my ears? That I didn’t mention because it didn’t feel like it mattered compared to the pain in my abdomen. 

    I was having almost constant ear infections, which continued into my early teen years. But my baseline for pain was skewed, it wasn’t until they got bad enough to cause a near constant fever, a symptom my parents could notice easily, that it was really found out. 

Funnily enough, my hearing wasn’t badly effected quite yet but the scarring was significant enough to watch. It didn’t get better, and has continued to escalate in the last decade. I’m considered hard of hearing for the most part, my hearing is generally muffled more than just nonexistent. 

    So the real fun of it is hearing how much my hearing is deteriorating, every appointment for my ears the news is never good, unchanged is the best we can hope for but it feels like it’s worse now. I need to steel myself to handle that bad news again, it’s heartbreaking over and over. 

     I feel vibrations more keenly and read lips because as a kid when the damage started, that how I learned to communicate. My entire childhood I was constantly chided “inside voice” or “quiet voices please” when honestly I couldn’t gauge my volume. I honestly think I catch more than expected because of all this, and after years of fighting to figure out weird social things that were preprogrammed into my brain, I’m rather good at picking up on facial expressions and body language. It’s been urged I should learn some signs by my last doctor, though I’m only really able to curse effectively and finger spell for now. 

I don’t tell all this for sympathy, just to explain my situation and why I’m reluctant to see the doctors right now. I promise I’ll go, I just need to find my bravery. But thanks for the support, it means a lot. 

Darlings! I’m not incapacitated any longer! 

That dastardly migraine has at last relinquished it’s frightful hold and today I was feeling enough like myself to venture out into the world! 

Pity the after effects left me fighting both vertigo and the subsequent nausea that accompanied it. A ginger ale and quiet little sit down saved my outing, but I shall need to tread  with just a wee bit more care, shan’t I? 

The struggle continues now of course, when a migraine triggers tinnitus and vertigo in a way it hadn’t in five or more years, medical professionals need informing. For the first time in my life I’m praying to any deity listening, the universe, and all the collected ancestors it’s just an ear infection the hood doctors can give me an antibiotic for.

       The alternative is further damage to my hearing, and possibly requiring surgery or aids, which will be a nightmare scenario for me either way, given the sensory issues that come with my unique brain chemistry. I’ve used OTC aids off and on for the past couple years since the last doctors assessment. These and their crazy expensive counterparts irritate the daylights out of me and I can’t see it going any better now. 

    My partner encourages I just bite the bullet and see the doctor, but I’m sure some out there know the nerves I’ve got over all this. Right? 

Migraines suck

that is all