slightly relevant

dé·jà vu (dā’zhä vōō’)
noun.

• 1. Psychology The illusion of having already experienced something actually being experienced for the first time.
• 2. a. An impression of having seen or experienced something before: Old-timers watched the stock-market crash with a distinct sense of déjà vu.
  b. Dull familiarity; monotony: the déjà vu of the tabloid headlines.

It’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Over the years it has become more and more frequent. About a year ago it was tickling my curiosity so much that I decided to research it. I read a lot of articles and papers about it. I read about a lot of studies that had been done on it. Some people think it’s a trick of the eyes. Some people think it’s a trick of the brain. Some people think it’s more of a spiritual experience. Since nobody knows what exactly it is, how it happens, or why it happens, I’ve kind of adopted my own thoughts on the subject. I heard this explanation a while back, and it’s stuck with me ever since. I like it, especially since over the past couple of years I have grown a profound fascination with, and respect for, the idea of reincarnation.

Before your soul is reborn on Earth, you are given a quick run-down, a preview, of the way your life should proceed. Almost like your life “flashing before your eyes” before your birth, as opposed to right before your death. A déjà vu moment is like a little flashback to that preview. A quick little glimpse of your soul recalling the way your life was supposed to go. So in a sense, a déjà vu moment is like your soul letting you know that you’re on the right track. Your life is going the way it should.

There’s no telling how accurate this assessment is, but it is the one with which I seem to resonate the most. Maybe it’s just that validation from a higher power that I’m searching for. No matter, though, the reason. I like this explanation and so I hold it with me every time I have a déjà vu.

Now, with all this being said, the reason I bring it up is because I have been having a LOT of déjà vu lately. The moments are getting more frequent, more intense, and are lasting longer. I have them several times a week now.The most recent one was so intense that I had to tell someone about it. I told Ley and she agreed with me that it was very weird!

I was parking my car when it started. I had just pulled into my parking space and was turning off the ignition when the sound of the music slurring to a stop jogged the déjà vu into action. By this time I had gotten to used to the frequent déjà vu that I was kind of brushing it off. “Yeah yeah, déjà vu, and then when I open the door it’s gonna slip a little bit out of my grip” … and it did. “Yeah yeah, déjà vu, then I’m gonna open my back door and reach for the bags and one of them is gonna slide out of reach” … and it did. This continued, me predicting what was going to come to next, until I gathered all of my things, dodged the wasp at my front door, unlocked it, and set my things down inside. I mean, how odd is that? It’s not as if it were even a very predictable moment. I had gone to pick up all of my new things for culinary school, so all of the bags in the bag were a new thing. I never even carry things in my back seat, but since i had recently cleaned it out, I used the seat. There is rarely a wasp anywhere near my apartment, so it’s not as if that was even a regular experience.

Very odd. Very odd indeed.
But, if this means I am so on the right track that I am beginning to predict what comes next… Well, I think I’m okay with that.

Just when I get my bloggery mojo back, my internet has to go and be cut off by a hurricane! I swear, I just can’t catch a break, can I? :P

Image thanks to boston.com.

So, for those of you interested (haha), here’s a run down of what I’ve been doing since Ike:
Continue reading…

Friday night I went out to the bar with some friends, one of whom was the one whose farm I sent Scooter to live on. It has been about two months since I brought him out there, and while he didn’t seem to be living the way I had envisioned (driving them all mad with his chatter and cuddles), he still seemed to be adjusting well enough. But that night she informed me that the previous day she had found him laying under the corner of her house, lifeless. :( She gave him a little burial for me, and from what she told me, he was still a big and heavy cat.

I thought that I was okay. I was sad, obviously, and disappointed. But I wasn’t sitting there sobbing at the counter. We had some fun and some drinks. Then after a couple hours we made our way to another bar where I had another drink. A couple hours later I headed home. I got on my computer to talk to a couple friends. I told them about Scooter. And I started bawling. It’s a good thing I had a box of tissues on my desk because by the time I was done, my little trash can was overflowing. It especially didn’t help when my friend asked me how he died. I told him that we don’t know for sure, but we suspect it was a snake bite, since he liked to hang out under her house where a lot of snakes live also. And do you know what my friend said in response? Not anything consoling or comforting. He said “or maybe he died of a broken heart”. That motherfucker. X(

You know, I didn’t want him to die. Certainly not! I thought that bringing him out there would be a winning answer for all of us. He could be outside and free to do as he pleased without harming anyone. I could have a clean home. And Genny could have some god damn peace. I didn’t want the little bastard to go and fucking die on me. Now all I’m left with is the feeling that maybe all I did was send him to his untimely death. My little baby. My fat little motherfucker of a cat. I loved him so much. I just wanted him to be free and happy. Not god damn dead.

Little Scoot-Patoot, I took you in as a baby and I raised you the best I could. I loved you with all the love I had to give. I sang to you and you sang back. I bought you all the accessories you could ever want. You were my little baby and I will never forget you. I can only hope that your last two months were enjoyable, and that your last moments alive were not spent in any sort of torture. Rest in peace, little baby.

(P.S. No, I do not intend to tell my parents. I will never hear the end of it, and I really don’t need any more grief right now. Sigh.)