Cats ... Are Like Four-legged Poster Children

When I Drank, The Part That Felt Dangerous And Needy Grew Bright And Strong And Real. The Part That Coveted Love Kicked Into Gear. The Yes Grew Louder Than The No.

Cats Are Narcissistic. Their Needs Come Before Ours. They Don't Understand The Word "no." They Carry Themselves With That Aloof, Arrogant Sense Of Perpetual Entitlement, They Will Jump Up And Insinuate Themselves Wherever They Please--on Your Lap, On Your Newspaper, On Your Computer Keyboard--and They Really Couldn't Care Less How Their Behavior Affects The People In Their Lives. I've Had Boyfriends Like This; Who Needs Such Behavior In A Housepet?

Trying To Describe The Process Of Becoming An Alcoholic Is Like Trying To Describe Air. It's Too Big And Mysterious And Pervasive To Be Defined. Alcohol Is Everywhere In Your Life, Omnipresent, And You're Both Aware And Unaware Of It Almost All The Time, All You Know Is You'd Die Without It, And There Is No Simple Reason Why This Happens, No Single Moment, No Physiological Event That Pushes A Heavy Drinker Across A Concrete Line Into Alcoholism. It's A Slow, Gradual, Insidious, Elusive Becoming.

You'll Reach Into Your Wallet To Brandish A Photograph Of A New Puppy, And A Friend Will Say, 'oh, No - Not Pictures.

Our Culture Thrives On Black-and-white Narratives, Clearly Defined Emotions, Easy Endings, And So, This Thrust Into Complexity Exhausts.