Back when Sarah Palin first hit the national scene, I realized that the catty in Cathy had been turned loose. Some people have that affect on me, so the cat in me came out with claws splayed.
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It's not my best trait, it can be very hurtful; I've wounded many a friend, sent unfriendly acquaintances scurrying for safety beyond earshot, and gotten myself into trouble with numerous authority figures. Sarcasm is an easy defense mechanism I use when I feel threatened, unattractive though it is. Something about the Alaskan governor immediately scared me. My therapist and I have had more than one conversation about this shadow aspect of my personality.
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The cat is an image I've identified with as long as I can remember, and my father is the one I credit for that, he planted that idea in my head at an early age. Not all of my cat-like qualities are negatives, some have served me well. Some of the things I've heard my dad say about the cat in me:
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“She’s like a cat. No matter how you throw her, she lands on her feet." That's proved to be a very affirming image when life "throws" me.
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"She can climb a tree faster than anyone." He frequently coaxed me down with, "Here, kitty, kitty."
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"She loves to curl up on the floor like a cat in front of the fire and go to sleep. She would spend the entire night there if I didn't wake her up and make her go to bed."
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"Don‘t pick a fight with her. She‘s not afraid to use her claws.”
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But the earliest encouragement I got from him to be cat-like was in the song he sang sometimes as he rocked me to sleep. I doubt that Irving Berlin wrote it for a lullaby, but Daddy used that way.
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The girl that I marry will have to be
As soft and sweet as a nursery
A girl to call my own
She’ll wear satin and laces and
Smell of cologne.
Her nails will be polished and in her hair
She’ll wear a gardenia and I’ll be there,
‘Stead of knittin’, she’ll be sittin’,
By my side and she’ll purr like a kitten.
A girl I can carry,
The girl that I marry must be.
As soft and sweet as a nursery
A girl to call my own
She’ll wear satin and laces and
Smell of cologne.
Her nails will be polished and in her hair
She’ll wear a gardenia and I’ll be there,
‘Stead of knittin’, she’ll be sittin’,
By my side and she’ll purr like a kitten.
A girl I can carry,
The girl that I marry must be.
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And may any cats who
cross your path
be cool cats.
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