Category: Fourre-tout

I just watched a movie about somebody being dumped and it made me reflect on my own storied life.

Don’t deny it. We all have been through this rite of passage, the abrupt transition from bliss to hell.
We have all been dumped or have ditched somebody. It is a fact of life. And better being dumped early than later in a relationship.

Dumping (the disposal of unwanted material in an often hurried way) is usually initiated by one partner. It is seldom mutual.

It is like a post Bar Mitzvah, or maybe like a rehearsal for the future mandatory divorce. It means that after that ritual you have (hopefully) become an adult and ready to play the game again, but in a more cautious and mature way.

A breakup often comes as a surprise to the dumpee.
It can be brutal “Piss off wanker” or mild “it’s not you, it’s me”, but it is always traumatic.

Now thanks to technology, breakups can be expedited with text messages or through Facebook. “You have 6 days to remove your stuff from my place. Have a nice day”. Your 6000 friends will know right away that you are finally available again.

Dumpees never see it coming. It comes out of the blue… like a sudden spring shower tornado.

And the nagging question is always, why?
What did I do? Is it my fault?
Did I drink too much? Did I eat too much? Did I gain weight? Did I fart too much? Was singing “Le Cantique des Cantiques” (the Song of Solomon) during our lovemaking over the top?

You are racking your brain trying to find the answer to this question (and maybe a parade to this blow) but things are usually too far-gone.

Of course, it is always better to be the dumper than the dumpee and some people anticipating a breakup will take the initiative and become the dumper before becoming a dumpee.
It is much less traumatic and much more satisfying.

But even 10, 20 years after the facts, the memory of a breakup still haunts you.
Because the dumper never really tells you the reason for the breakup.
It is probably better that way, but you still would like to know.

There ought to be a formal process for breaking up.
There ought be a form to be filled by both parties explaining clearly what prompted this fateful decision.

“One woman is not enough for me” or “she refused polygamy”, or “he sleeps with a Glock pistol under his pillow and he fondles it more than he fondles me”.

It would be nice to know for future reference and to avoid making the same mistakes again.

So, if you have been dumped, do not despair. It happened to the best of us.
And in your next relationship, dump that bastard/bitch before he/she dumps you.

Famous dumpees:
Josephine de Beauharnais (dumped by Napoleon I)
Lady Di (dumped by prince Charles)
Nicolas Sarkozy (dumped by Cecilia Attias)
Valerie Trierweiler (dumped by Francois Hollande)

Have a pleasantly mellow day.

Uncle Alain

Watch Tina S. the amazing French prodigy:

In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.
Terry Pratchett

My cat is not quite a teenager but she already behaves like one (and I fear that the worst is yet to come.)
She is wild, impulsive, rebellious, highly energetic, adventurous and emotional.
In one word, a true juvenile.

It won’t be long before she starts sniffing glue, smoking pot (I better hide my stash) and demanding her own cell phone.
And of course begging for the car keys and spending the night out.
But not so fast dudette!
I am seriously considering fitting her with a GPS so that I will know where she is at all times. And I want to meet her “friends”.
She is not crazy about this idea.

Because of her inbred inquisitiveness, I think that when she grows up, she might be a journalist, a private investigator or maybe (because of her amazing athletic skills) join a circus for a flying trapeze act.

“The performance was invented in 1859 by a Frenchman named Jules Leotard, who connected a bar to some ventilator cords above the swimming pool in his father’s gymnasium in Toulouse, France. After practicing tricks above the pool, Leotard performed his act in the Cirque Napoleon (now known as the Cirque d’hiver). The traditional flier’s costume, the leotard, is named after him.”

I bet you didn’t know that!

Despite her young age, she can reach any spot in the house. And to my chagrin, she does. Nothing is safe from her inquisitive mind or sharp claws.
During the night, she moves like a ghost, her eyes occasionally glowing in the dark. And regardless of the situation, she always wants to be on the other side of the door.

While an occasional couch potato, she is also a deep thinker and spends a lot of time mulling over different mischief possibilities.
When relaxing, she prefers her martini shaken not stirred.
Unlike her royal relatives, she is easily amused and will play with anything loose or not chained to a wall.

For a feline, the call of the wild (the common ground area behind my house) is irresistible.
Kate is a naturally canny hunter and I dread the day when she is going to catch (and she will) one of the little birds feeding in our garden.

She is rowdy but good-natured, affectionate and not averse to an occasional tummy scratching session. She then purrs almost as loudly as I snore.

As May Sarton once said:
“Time spent with cats is never wasted.”

I totally agree with this.

Alain

http://youtu.be/OnqnCoPLdyw