Again, much, much credit for my wellness has to go to the guys at the Chateau.  Aside of helping me to rediscover and improve my feminine side, they’ve made my masculine side a better “man” in crucial ways too.  In a strange sense, I think my inner “man” helps to heal my inner woman.  He certainly came in handy this past weekend.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to be basically forced to be vulnerable.  I admitted to the actual guy I wanted, to being horny, a bit desperate, and quite easy, though focussed on a particular target.  Remarkably (to me anyway) this did not result in immediate rejection or mistreatment as the night wore on.  My honesty was actually appreciated.

I have no idea what the results will be sexually or emotionally in the cold and sober light of day, but I’m optimistic.  I’m going to clean my room, shave every day just in case, and definitely not sit in my room waiting for the Dick Fairy to bless me or something.

In summary, I’ve gone from Rehab to Return of the Mack in one weekend.

…as soon as I recover from three nights in a row of drinking anyway.  I am so not looking forward to tomorrow’s workout.

I’ve been cooking more, cleaning more, and being slightly more assertive about making sure the others do their chores.  So the last thing I need is to give the rats, ants, and roaches that generally plague this area, an open invitation to free dinners.  Granted, rats who wander in don’t live long, but it only takes one pregnant roach to spark an infestation that would require more than my feline mini-platoon to combat.

…but as with most things, I must be wrong because it’s me.  A stranger on the street can tell them something, and it would mean more than if I say it.

Two weeks ago, the house was robbed, and Shai’s credit cards and a watch were stolen because I said the doors should be locked and the balcony bars closed when there is nobody up and awake to watch them.  Since I said the place should be secure, of course nobody listened because if I said it, it must automatically be wrong.  Shai gave me the speech about how because this is Israel, people don’t commit robberies in broad daylight, etc.

Well…

Now I’m saying that there shouldn’t be open bowls of food laying about the house when the cats are usually outside, and of course that has to be wrong.

…only at the point of us getting robbed, I was done.  I was done helping anybody in my sphere of influence to ignore reality for the sake of their ego.

D O N E.

So when Moon defiantly told me that she had replaced the cat food bowls in the livingroom, while I applaud her stubbornness and questioning everything, I told her that this is a case where she does not need to understand.  She needs to obey until she does.  When she has her own place, she is free to experiment and suffer the consequences on her own bill.

Shai is now in his “just following orders” but with a bratty attitude mode.  I used to care when he was like that.  I don’t anymore.  There will not be open bowls of food in my house in the summer.  Period.   If they persist, then they will find themselves without cats to feed.  I’ll relocate them to the park across the road, and take food there for them daily myself, if need be.

Yeah, I’m back.