You’re DRUNK!

Last night hubby and I went out. The weather was GORGEOUS (clearly we DON'T live along the Gulf Coast of the US) and we wanted to grab a few hours on one of those last great summer nights. We went to a local outside bar where we ran into some people we knew. Hubby's birthday is Thursday (tomorrow) and I mentioned this so these folks decided that it was a good time to buy him roughly a half a glass of Jack Daniels (and a beer). He had a few more beers. We left the bar and wandered down the boardwalk. We bounced in time to the drum circle going on, we talked to people we knew, we looked in stores and restaurants (trying to decide where to have dinner).

We finally decided to stop at his new fave dinner spot on the way home. It's a gorgeous old beach club with a wall of windows looking out over the ocean. The place wasn't crowded; we sat at the bar to eat so we'd have the full ocean view. He had more beers. He was DRUNK! I mean giddy, silly, talkin'-to-loud DRUNK. He'd go between the very serious drunken conversation and the very silly drunken conversation. He savored every bite of his dinner (tilapia, a fish that usually doesn't do much for me but this place really does make it special), he drank more beer.

As we left he looked towards the ocean and just threw his hands in the air to celebrate how glorious the evening was in every way; the weather, the food, the fun, maybe even each other. I turned to him and said, "YOU ARE DRUNK!"

He said, "YES I AM and WHY NOT?" He went on to point out that life is really not a bed of roses. You generally don't wake up every day immersed in the joy of living. He's right. As much as I most definitely prefer living to dying its true, every damn day is not exactly sunshine and lollipops.

We do need to make of it what we can even if it means being drunk on a Tuesday night. We don't have kids, we both work, our house is nearly paid off, we're okay but he's right, what is there to life? Life really is what you make of it. What makes your soul sing? I know I address this pretty often but he really had a point last night.

As we drove home he asked if I wanted to stop for ice cream, usually I'm the one asking and he reluctantly agrees but last night he asked ME to stop! He said, "it's ICE CREAM, why not? Let's enjoy it!" I love this, I hope this stays with him. When we stopped for the ice cream there were two women on the bench and they offered to move over so we could sit, I said I needed to stand after such a big dinner but we started a fun conversation with them, hubby rarely talks to strangers but last night he engaged EVERYONE in conversation, it was fun.

I don't think I want or need to actually be physically drunk all the time but I'd like to kinda live this feeling from him a bit more often. Yeah, I'm fuckin' drunk so make somethin' of it, go ahead, I'm serious, make something of it!

Shortest line in the grocery store

As a bleeding heart liberal and someone who routinely rails against the inhumanity of humans I have a shameful confession to make. I find that I often avoid handicapped people. I think it's a knee jerk reaction and I don't like it in myself. Look, I know that someone with a severe physical handicap isn't "contagious", I know I won't "catch" what they have and yet I shy away and I don't want to. I feel like an ass for behaving this way but I also don't think I'm alone with this horrible prejudice.

Last Sunday I was in the local grocery store and as we all know, Sunday's at any grocery store are not a great experience. The lines were, of course LONG. I surveyed the scene and noticed a very short line, I made sure the light above the register was still lit so that I didn't race over only to find out she was closing her lane. When I was sure I had a chance of making it there before everyone discovered this rare and beautiful event of a short line on a Sunday I bolted over to grab that prime spot. Once there I noticed that the cashier had some very severe physical handicaps, I looked around and wondered if everyone else was shying away because, like me, they didn't want to be confronted with this reality on a Sunday afternoon. It was tough to tell but it was clear that this short line was not growing.

I took a breath, silently called myself a horrible name and proceeded to unload my cart onto the belt. When it was my turn, I made eye contact and treated her the way she deserved to be treated…like she was the exact same as me, like she had feelings and emotions, got mad and sad and happy. I made the usual small talk, I told her I had my own bags with me and would bag my stuff. We worked together nicely and I pointed out that she was too quick for me to keep up with her so my bagging had lagged behind her cashiering. She dug in and lent me a hand and we finished our transaction.

I hope I grew a little bit from that and what else did I learn? That maybe I can grow a little bit and at least for now, until my fellow humans catch up with me, I can also get the shortest line at the grocery store on a Sunday afternoon it turned into a bit of a karmic bonus for me, choose to try to grow and get out of the store faster.

And THAT'S how I got on the shortest grocery line this past Sunday!

I think it may be working

Sometime earlier this year I decided I needed to stop shopping. I don't mean stop grocery shopping (though I'd love to stop doing THAT) I mean stop bullshit shopping. Shopping was a hobby for me even when I had no real money to spend on things. I'd just go out to "look" at stuff and then come home with the perfect dress or shoes or whatever but perfect for WHAT? No clue.

I long used the excuse that I was always looking for work clothes. I'm one of the many office drones saddled to a "business casual" dress code. I usually work one day a week from home (usually Wednesdays) and of course on Friday (because Fridays are somehow magical) we can wear jeans to work which is easy. I know that every single person who reads this (both of you) are able to do that math, that means I need three days of biz casual clothes per week and the remainder of the time is mine to choose.

So how in the world could I possibly spend so damn much time shopping for 3 days per week of clothes? I have no idea. I think that when I first latched onto this idea I decided on a "uniform" for the year. During the cooler months the uniform would be black or gray trousers (the super comfy pull-on ones from NY&Co. that look like "real" trousers but are just smartly disguised stretch pants), a pretty cami from Ann Taylor (they have tons of them and get in more each season, they don't really look like your standard cami they look like a cute, professional, sleeveless top that goes with everything) and either a jaunty men's cardigan or one of those light "swing" jackets.

Summer would mean wearing lightweight summer dresses or skirts. Easy (and those things are usually fairly inexpensive as well).

As summer is drawing to a close I realize that I've done pretty well with this plan. The best part is that it's EASY. I hate having to actually THINK in the morning about what to wear to work. I don't have time for that shit. I wanna jump out of the shower and into something presentable and run out the door. I don't iron, I could, I don't; which means making sure that everything is wash and wear (it is).

So now that I've stopped shopping as a hobby I'm realizing how great it is to NOT shop. Sure I definitely have more money in my bank account. That's the first obvious benefit here but pulling in a close second is the time I now have to do things OTHER than shopping. I'm not kidding when I say that I'd get up on a weekend and if it was crappy out (meaning no playing outside, no bike ride) I'd have to hurry out the door to go…shopping. What a friggin' waste of time, right? Here's the thing, for many things that I need to buy I'm now buying them online because it keeps me OUT of the stores and keeps me focused on what I actually NEED to buy. I'm easily distracted in a store…"ooooo, I want this and this and this and this…" but if I don't go into one then I'm not distracted.

Here's an example. I need printer ink cartridges, I could buy them online or I could buy them at Target but if I buy them at Target I'll BE IN TARGET! And frankly that's a dangerous temptation for me. I'll have to check out the sale items and poke around the seasonal crap and buy a few tank tops because look, they're marked down to $3.99!

Another benefit of this plan is that I've taken the time to go through my closet and dressers and more than once to weed out shit that I just don't wear. It's been liberating. I can now easily flip through the clothes in my closet because my closet is no longer jam-packed with shit I bought and never wore or wore once or twice. It's gone. Just gone. I'm feeling another purge coming on me soon.

Look, let's do the math here. Taking into account my 5 weeks of PTO, my work from home days, my 10 holidays/yr, figuring in roughly 104 days of weekends/yr, I'm thinking it all boils down to needing roughly 132 business casual outfits per year and you can slash off 20 weeks of those 132 days (roughly 3 days/wk * 20 for 60 days off of those 132) for summer skirts and dresses which are for me easier than pants (mentally) but even if we look at it as 132 business casual outfits per year, that doesn't shake out to really NEEDING all that many clothes. There's no need to make a fashion statement at the office, you need to look professional and reasonably well-groomed. So even if I actually went out and purchased 132 business casual outfits it still wouldn't have equaled all the crap I amassed over the years in my closet and dresser drawers.

One of the things for me was that I was always chasing the elusive item that looked and fit great and I'd settle for something that did one or the other but not both and then I'd regret it but still try to wear it. I can't tell you how many pullover sweaters I've bought in my life that never really made the cut but there they sat in my closet just waiting for their chance to "wow" me; or trousers, OMG they are the BANE of my existence (until discovering the ones at NY&Co) they'd be cut to high on the waist…or too low. They would be too long or too short, too tight through the butt or thighs or not tight enough but I'd keep trying and BUYING and the buying part was the WORST.

But what was I missing out those crappy days when it wasn't a day to go out and "play"? What else is there to do when one isn't going shopping? Duh! Howzabout just staying home? Just hangin' with the fur kids or reading or, WRITING? What about doing that? I would literally wake up on a weekend day and try to figure out how quickly I could get in my car and head out SHOPPING. Now I don't do that. Instead I linger over a bowl of cereal on the deck with the fur kids lounging around me or I'll plop down at my computer (like now) and dash out some words while sipping lukewarm coffee…with the fur kids draped over sofas and dog beds and me. Oh yeah and I listen to the radio again. Real radio is my favorite thing in the whole world and always has been. Radio where someone actually plays what they want and puts together sets of music that go somewhere (Vin Scelsa, Mike Marrone, Meg Griffin, I'm lookin' at you guys). Sunday morning on Sirius/XM, The Loft is programmed by Mike Marrone and is amazing, it makes my heart sing. It feels like old-timey (1970s/1980s) NYC radio full of long sets of connected music and artists.

So I guess I'm not exactly boosting the economy these days but the personal gains are so much better, I'm boosting my spirits and my quality of life. I'm slowing down to smell the roses, or in my case I'm smelling the fresh basil, mint and thyme growing on the back deck.

 

Human Babies

This may sound odd to some (most?) people but I finally identified this the other day. Human babies creep me out.

Uh-huh, they do. I know a lot of people think human babies are just the cutest things ever but the more I think about it the more they just plain creep me out. I'm creeped out by their little pudgy legs and sausage-like arms and the unnatural way their fingers and toes seem to work. They're legs don't even lay right until they've been walking for a while, their legs just kinda splay out all bowlegged and stuff.

I saw a commercial the other day for Cheerios, apparently the cereal of babies and people who need to lower their cholesterol (interesting combo), there was a tight close-up of a baby in a high chair picking up a Cheerio in her pudgy little fingers and stuffing it in her little round "O" of a mouth. Based on the voiceover copy and the overall tone of the commercial I'm certain it was meant to be adorable but between those little, uncoordinated, pudgy fingers and the "O" mouth I was completely grossed out.

Actually most of the faces they make strike me as odd. I guess since we have no idea what's going on in their little human brain we can't figure out why they're wrinkling their nose or puffing out their cheeks which adds to the overall grossness of the behavior.

Of course there's always the great moment when you realize that the little critter also has a "poopy face" (we'll get to the whole diaper thing next). Yuppers, it's lovely when the parent looks over and says, "oh, that's his poopy face". Ya know what? I think if that were me and I was able to identify a "poopy face" I'd grab the little bundle and race it to the nearest toilet, rip that diaper off and sit it down there. Look, start early, Freud's wacko theories about potty training were debunked years ago move on.

Diapers. They're another thing that just freaks me out. As the little bowlegged critter toddles around there's this big ol' bulge of diaper all over the place. Of course we all know what goes on in those things, the kid is sitting there peeing and pooping on themselves, which, GROSS.

Then there's the spit-up. They just do it. No aversion to it or anything. One minute they can be fine and the next minute the smell of sour milk is spewing from them in a gooey stream. OMG that is disgusting.

The more I think about it the more I realize just how non-cute I think human babies are. What is it that people get all gaga about when they see a human baby? Puppies and kittens? Now THEY'RE cute!

More arrogant humans

Get used to my rants kids they're never gonna stop. Here's the deal folks, humans will argue to spare the life of a convicted, violent killer but a dog bites someone who threw HOT COFFEE on them and they get a death sentence (http://www.causes.com/actions/1671310?recruiter_id=168392094&utm_campaign=invite&utm_medium=wall&utm_source=fb&open_inviter=true ) really people it is time to stop the BULLSHIT. This dog is just one of many that have recently been sentenced to die because of an act of cruelty by a HUMAN. Yuppers, humans do the deed and the dog gets put to death.

I have to say in all honesty that the longer I live, the less love and respect I have for humans and the more love and respect I have for animals. Humans truly have learned nothing from their past history. Discrimination led to years of hatred (still going on, sad to say) and lost lives, did we learn? Nope.

We scream forgiveness and rehabilitation for hardened criminals, they get out, they kill again or they languish in jail with 3 meals a day, TV, radio and books to read. A dog bites someone and its death. We need to STOP. Just stop. Stop our own bad fucking behavior.

Sometimes I get angry or frustrated with my husband because he doesn't want to go out much. He's truly content here at home in our modest digs with our little back deck and our three rescued dogs. And then sometimes I think that he's the smartest man alive for knowing where his heart is. Look, we stay home we get to hang out; we get to enjoy the basic, primal company of the three beautiful animals that share our lives and our world. Three pure and genuine souls without the arrogance of humanity built in. Could they bite if they get angry? Yeah, probably but they'd only do it if there was a reason.

If you're a human, and you read this please do your damnedest to try, just fucking try, to also be HUMANE in all your actions. Stand up for animal rights because there are a few (million) too many arrogant humans who truly believe they hold sway over animals and honestly it's simply arrogance that let's any of us do this, just protect them, just be kind.

I'm sick to pieces of all of this crap and I'm gonna keep ranting against it.

So suck it and be real.

Not so bad this year

If you read back about a year I think I posted about the hideous retail habit of forcing the seasons forward at breathtaking speed cycling me closer and closer to some unpredictable end. As you may already know I'm not thrilled with this shit.

This year, for some weird reason, I have to say that my local stores don't seem to be on this death march. By mid-August last year my local grocery store had their Halloween displays out. This year there is an obvious switch to that from the barbeque items of a few weeks ago but it isn't in your face, crazy displays dripping with Halloween stuff. It's just that a few shelves have started to roll over to Halloween from summer sun.

I have to say that everything seems more evenly parsed out this year. Maybe it's the recession or maybe a few marketing folks realized how creepy THEY feel when they walk into a store and feel that life is being forced right past them.

This year the back to school assault came appropriately after July 4^th in most cases (let's leave Target out of this since they had moved on by Father's Day, summer moved quickly through the aisles of Target this year) and even now with Labor Day looming large on the calendar ahead I'm not seeing too much season-specific stuff clogging the shopping aisles.

Hubby and I hit up the local outlet center a few weeks ago thinking there'd be slim picken's for summer stuff but we were pleasantly surprised to find great sales and TONS of summer stuff. We weren't assaulted by wool and flannel with the lightweight summer cotton relegated to a back wall of the store, nope, front and center screaming "BUY ME…CHEAP!" was where we found the summer stuff. Wonderful, glorious, seasonal stuff…in SEASON!

I actually think that the smart retailers are sneaking in a few other buying seasons between the big ones, benign stuff that is really not associated with any one time of year or a particular holiday or event. Things like furniture and home appliances seem to be filling the gap and this makes good marketing sense. You've just lived through summer, you've had wet towels draped on every surface in your home, you've had piles of kids eating and drinking in the family room, your spouse has embarked on some half-assed projects that left you more in ruins than repair. What to do? Spruce up the joint a bit. Buy that new sofa you've been thinking about. Upgrade the bathroom vanity.

It sorta hints that you know you'll be entertaining guests soon but you're not quite draped in garland and humming White Christmas just yet.

I hope I'm not imagining this. I hope this is a trend that can stick around for a while. Let's let things coast along, let's enjoy each time of the year in its own time (not 4 months before its time).

Not every item for sale needs to be associated with a holiday or a season, sometimes retailers and marketers can just MARKET to us without putting us through a forced march through the seasons.

A-LONE!

I tried to start this with a song title and the two that came to mind were either "Alone again or" or "Along again naturally". I didn't like the need for the word "again" as the second word of each of those, "again" just made it sound so despondent and that wasn't at all where I want to go here…but it did lend further thought to the discussion. Why does "alone" need to be quantified by "again"? Why can't someone just be "alone" and then "not alone"? What's the opposite of alone anyway? Is it coupled? That doesn't work because that means that you're either alone or with one other person. Alone would seem to lead to lonely and lonely just doesn't have a good vibe to it. But you don't have to be alone to be lonely and when you're alone you may very well be quite content and not the least bit lonely.

But I digress.

My best friend's daughter is heading off to college in a few days. My best friend has been dreaming about this moment for YEARS. She can't wait to not have to cook for anyone or clean up after anyone. She yearns to sit peacefully on her patio with the Sunday Times and a cup of coffee. These are the daydreams she's shared with me through all the years of getting up early on a Saturday to get to a soccer game or when she's stayed up too late making sure that all the kids hanging in her basement have safely made it their respective homes.

My BFF (we'll call her BFF) has been divorced for more than a decade. Her long-term significant other lives several hours away and although he's often with her he also travels frequently for business which means that she doesn't have him to worry about full-time.

Her older child mostly lives with his girlfriend now; although they are nearby they aren't there full-time so he's no longer a full-time member of the household.

That left just her daughter and now her daughter has to report to her college dorm by 8AM this coming Sunday morning and when BFF heads home that afternoon it will be to house empty of all humans (but still populated by a cat and large dog).

All of this suddenly occurred to her last night while we were out having dinner and sangria at our favorite local restaurant. Alone. She's going to be ALONE. Not long after she said this we both realized she had NEVER lived alone. NEVER. She lived with her parents until college, at college she had two roommates (both of whom she's still friends with), after college she got an apartment nearby with a friend, I was invited to go in with them but the other person was CRAZY and I opted to get my own little garden apartment. BFF went from a year or two of living the wild and crazy single life to being engaged and married. By the time her marriage was splitting up she had two kids so even after hubby was gone there were still those other two humans to reckon with.

WOW!

I've lived alone for long stretches of time twice as an adult and both times were wonderful. During my second turn at alone-ness I even bought my own little house. A cottage really, very small but cute as could be and quite comfy on a nice sized piece of property and all mine. I never thought of being alone as being an unnatural state of being. I never had a problem with it. I can remember at least two times when I had my little house and I was on my way home from a long day at work, I turned onto my street and as I approached my home I thought, "this is the HAPPIEST moment of my LIFE!" I could go in and not walk into anyone else's mess; no laundry on the floor, no dishes in the sink. The house would be just as I'd left it that morning. I could settle in at my coffee table with whatever I wanted to have for dinner; I could read a book and not have to wrestle for control of the TV, hell I could listen to the radio instead and not even turn on the TV.

Don't get me wrong. My current husband? Yeah, I'll keep him. One reason though is that we're both excellent at being alone. He "gets" that alone thing. He's been there himself. When we met we were each living alone (well, not really, we each had a dog); he in a one bedroom apartment and me in my little cottage. There were no roommates to deal with when we slept at each other's places it was just us. With no roommates in the mix we could bring our respective dog along for any sleepovers. We had privacy and time to get to know each other.

I mentioned this to A3 this morning (you know her, my current phone friend who doubles as an actual friend) and we started going through her family and realized that of anyone she's the only one who has spent any time alone and even her time on the A (as in alone) list doesn't really tally up to more than a few months.

So what to make of all this? Can we be alone? Do we want to be alone? For some weird reason I always thought that alone was a natural state of being and we had to adjust ourselves to be with other people but maybe the reverse is true, maybe coupled or grouped is natural and alone is completely unnatural. I doubt that pre-historic humans could have subsisted alone, they needed their community to hunt and gather and care for each other. As civilization progressed people lived in villages and towns, they had large families, they went from their family of origin home to their family of marriage home and started pro-creating. There were always people around. I'm sure no one EXPECTED to come home to an empty house or to things just as they'd left them that morning. It's me, isn't it?

We really AREN'T "alone again naturally".

Leeetle Birdie…

I don't really like birds. In truth they freak me out a bit. They look so DAMN pre-historic. They really do. Birds, to me, are shrunken dinosaurs. I try to like them, I really do, but they just don't conjure up the image of a warm, cuddly pet in my mind.

Considering my feelings about birds I think it's odd that today I had two mentions of two different cockatiels today. Isn't that odd? My one friend told me that her parents found a very friendly cockatiel in their garage. Clearly the bird was someone's pet but despite diligent efforts on the part of my friend's parents they can't seem to find the owner which has left them in the awkward position of suddenly having a pet bird for the time being.

Then I get to work and one of the blogs I subscribe to showed up in my inbox and what is mentioned in it? Yup, pet cockatiels! Weird, right?

There was no point to this except for the oddity of having cockatiels creep into my Monday morning uninvited and unexpected. That's never happened to me before.

Phone Friends

Didja ever have phone friends? Those people you talked on the phone with for HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS? I guess it's not so common anymore. We text now. We're short and to the point at least for the most part. Who would EVER stay on the phone for 3 hours…or all night? Yeah, ALL FUCKING NIGHT?

I've had 2 "phone friends" that I can think of. Three if you include my current friend who is down in Maryland but I don't think of her in this category because if we lived closer I'd force her into my group of regular friends so she's only safe based on distance.

I guess in fact the other two didn't qualify as only "phone friends" either but it was before the time of e-mail and texting (yes, children there was a time before e-mail and texting, trust me, there was).

Phone Friend #1, we'll call him "P" (that's odd, phone friend #2 has the same first initial, perhaps we'll just call him #1 or P1, yes that's it P1). P1 was a guy friend in high school. We would talk all night and often fall asleep on the phone together then wake each other up in the morning by screaming over the phone. Classy, I know. I never dated P1. I never so much as kissed him. In person, in school, we were "friendly" but didn't really move in the same groups. It's weird, ya know. We were both pretty "popular" (I'm crazy, crazy people are always reasonably popular because others are afraid of us, trust me, it's true) but in different groups and in different ways but come night time? We were each other's everything. We'd talk about all sorts of stuff which totally escapes me all these years later. We never kept in touch a single day past high school but for those 4 years we logged thousands of phone hours together. Sweet.

In the '80's I had P2. I miss her…a lot. She was one of the most unique and wonderful people I've ever known and I've only seen her once since the '80's. We were both at a Sopranos (yeah, the TV show) premier party in NYC. She was married to some very normal guy. She seemed happy. I hope she is. We would talk for HOURS most week nights in the middle of the night. She was one of the few people I've ever known who was so much like me. We "got" each other. She had a little dog that she adored and a house she owned in an off-beat part of NYC that would've scared the average person but for her…it was home. Damn I miss her (and no, I can't even fucking find her on facebook so stop asking).

My current friend that almost makes this category doesn't have "P" as a first initial. I don't want to just be phone friends and I don't think we are. But I have to say that as far as P2 goes, I miss her, I do. A3 is my current phone friend and the only reason we're "phone friends" is because I have a long commute to work and she lives a few hours away. She's not close enough to see all the time. It'd be great if she were closer mostly because we're both breakfast people (a whole OTHER category) and our significant others are NOT breakfast people so I'd have someone to meet for breakfast if she were closer but that's not in the cards and that's fine. Life happens that way.

I don't really know where this rant came from but now I'm missing those first two phone friends and making a commitment to A3 that she will NOT fade away. Not fade away, great song, better sentiment.

More musings on life and death

So after that other post the thoughts of life and death and round and round kept playing round and round in my brain. It brought to mind a Joni Mitchell song, "The Circle Game". She basically takes you through a person's life in the space of a 4 minute song. And that's bothersome on some level but mostly because IT'S TRUE.

I sent an e-mail to a friend recently about how much I hate the end of summer and when I detailed why I hated the end of Summer she wrote back that those were the very reasons she LIKED moving into the other seasons, she liked how orderly the other seasons are compared to summer.

Summer feels like endless time sprawling out without end. Summer is soft breezes, miles of sand and ocean; it's long, long days that just slip into night and the dawn comes quickly after. Summer feels unplanned and free without the passing of time but that isn't the reality. The reality is that even while we sit on the deck and watch dusk creep slowly from the sea and we sip our beers and margaritas and talk and laugh at nothing at all time is ticking on no matter how easy it all feels.

The end of summer brings those ordered seasons. It's back to school, then Halloween, then Thanksgiving and C'mas and New Year's Eve. They stack up at the gate like planes waiting to take off from Newark airport. Time is planned and ordered, commitments are made (where to spend the holidays, what to buy for whom, etc). This is what unnerves me and forces the passage of time on me. There are songs about this stuff, about being "in the autumn of my days…" and other references to the waning of life just like the waning of the seasons.

When summer lands on our sunny shores I see nothing but blue skies and amber sand and time STOPS. It stands still for those 10 weeks while we all become young again. We stay outside until well past when the street lights come on and enjoy the velvety warm nights and the sticky-sweet mornings.

Summer lets me be carefree again. I take long bicycle rides to nowhere and lounge in the pool even after a busy day at work. But autumn, no. Autumn doesn't lead to carefree fun it means buckling down. Autumn means finishing up projects before the end of the year. It means planning and planning and executing and planning. Not Summer, no way.

With all the talk of death and loss as the summer wanes it's hard not to look around and wonder how much will be different next Summer at this time. How much more loss will we suffer? How much more heartache and heartbreak? I'm not being a Nelly Negative here but it does kinda hit you that first week that you wake up at your normal time (5:30AM) and it's dark out instead of light, maybe some of that darkness bleeds over into where my head goes.

Will everyone I love still be here next year? I hope so but there have already been losses this year, some sudden, some expected but none of them welcome. I don't like this feeling of the passing of time, it goes too quickly. Why am I not still 22 or 26? Why can't I still fit in size 2? Why don't I stay out until 3AM and be ready for more of the same the next day?

No answers and no way to stop it, just carry on and hope for the best, it's all we can do but I sure wish we could roll back the clock to a lifetime of endless summer days and short summer nights.

And we do all go 'round and 'round and 'round in the circle game, don't we?

Mostly Dead

I heard from a friend today that one of his friends is, well, mostly dead. That may sound harsh but it's a fact. The person is in a coma and has been for 3 weeks, there's no hope of recovery. It got me thinking and it wasn't pleasant. First of all, I'm a pretty optimistic person overall. Life is great, a veritable bowl of cherries. I don't act old (or not VERY old anyway). I try to be youthful enough without being dopey about it.

All that said I can't help but stare down a host of missed opportunities. Oh yeah, I've heard it all before, "you're still young yet" and "you've got plenty of time to still pursue your dreams" and on and on. Okay folks, slap yourselves because as lovely as it would be to think those things there comes a time when you need to know you're options are gettin' pretty limited. Yes they are.

Look, here's a fact folks, I'm never gonna be an Olympic athlete. Yup we were all just treated to those Summer games in London and those athletes were young. Yeah there were a few true old-timers on some of the teams but they were pretty rare and no doubt they'd been in the game for quite some time. Yeah, I got no hope of that. I realize that even in my prime I would've never been considered an athlete but maybe if I knew then what I know now I would've tried a bit harder. I would've found something and really thrown myself into it. Those gymnasts were amazing, they flew through the air defying gravity. That would've been nice to pursue…maybe.

And then there's all the other loves of my life, I had wanted to be a food scientist, not gonna happen. I loved radio like you can't even imagine and I was young at a time when radio was fresh and exciting, yup that's off the table now. Writing, yup, loved that when I was young, still love it but let's face it, even if I did get something out there now it wouldn't be like I'd be staring down a lifetime career as a writer, I'd be spending my "declining years" as a writer. Okay, that'd be pretty cool but it would still be a last ditch effort.

I have an acquaintance just finishing up the long process of becoming an architect, it hasn't been easy and it has taken a long time. Apparently there is a lot of work that goes into becoming an architect; you have to invest a lot of time and obviously a substantial amount of money to get to the point that you are finally an architect and making the big bucks. She's gutted out the whole process, the internships with low or no pay, the exams, etc. What an accomplishment and every time I see her, despite all the effort she has put in she's always so happy that she did it, she fulfilled an awesome goal and she went after something that really spoke to her. I wonder if she'll regret something ELSE when she reaches my age or if she'll continue on the fearless path she's started on.

I'm seeing some Facebook posts about a friend of several of my friends, I didn't know this person but she seems to have been a very talented photographer and it's clear that she died and from the looks of her photos she certainly died far too young. I haven't yet found out how but it does seem sudden. How sad to for her to be cut-off from life that way. She was beautiful, her photos look wonderful and her friends are all shocked and saddened, one friend wrote a truly lovely poem about her. But there it was…death.

It's hard to think about, but it's all around us all the time. Certainly as we get older it rears its ugly head more frequently but that makes it worse not easier. It taps you on the shoulder and kinda reminds you that you're also in that line somewhere.

This isn't intended to be morose it really isn't. Just real, it's just real. My friend happens to be on the radio and he talked about this openly today. He brought up the concept of death…hell, not the concept he brought up the REALITY of death and put it out there. A bold move, in our overly polite society death just isn't talked about but there it was on the radio. He played some stuff, some sad, some poignant and some that just plain put it out there.

I do want a do-over. I really do. I'd be braver and less afraid of failure. That was my thing when I was young enough to have the expanse of time stretching out ahead of me like a highway across the mid-West, I was scared of failing, scared of making a fool of myself, scared of SOMETHING. Damn that really sucks but it is what it is. I'm still optimistic, I'm happy to have what I have but there's just so much out there that I never bothered to go for.

Well, in all of this I'm wishing that friend of a friend a peaceful journey from this world, he's lingered 3 weeks now between life and death and that can't be very fun either so a toast to The Brick for a peacefully journey ahead.

Asshats on Facebook

Yes, this does actually apply to some of my friends, the real ones, not just the ones you "approved" on Facebook but the ones you even KNOW who are on Facebook. What is it that qualifies you for the truly gross title of "ASSHAT"? It's when you post something that doesn't quite give enough info to make sense to anyone or to just a few select people. If you just got good news, bad news, or even weird news that morning….either post the fucking news or shut yer damn piehole. Seriously. I do NOT want to read something that HINTS at your newsworthy item. Either do the big reveal or share it the old fashioned way, with a personal phone call to your key "stakeholders" (to share an offensive corporate term).

I did a quick log onto FB tonight and got hit with one of these little nuggets. "Nothing like starting my Saturday with good news in the mail. Yes I am happy, Woot!" No further info. We're all just supposed to get on the party wagon with that one, right?

As if FB doesn't make assholes of us all enough times a day when we cave into the madness we end up posting teasers like the above. Look, I would LOVE to know what is making a friend so happy on their Saturday but I can't be bothered pandering to their little guessing game. People, either share with others or shut the fuck up.

That is all…for now.

Breaktime

On Facebook I get lots and lots of animal rescue info. Some of it is awesome good news but much of it is heartbreaking bad news. Abused, abandoned dogs, dogs on death row for no reason other than careless humans too cheap or lazy to spay/neuter their dogs and others sent to their death just due to shelter overcrowding. It makes my soul hurt.

I do some small amount of animal rescue, not as much as I could, or should, but…some. I have 3 rescued dogs, rescued Australian Cattledogs. They're fun, they're awesome, they're DOGS. For all the sad stories, for all the happy stories, there are also just the day-to-day stories.

Yup, no matter what; these dogs, in THIS HOUSE have their own little world and their own little lives. They are fed, cuddled, loved, yelled at, laughed at/with. I guess that's the best part of having them, that they're HERE. Just every day they're here for me and hubby.

Hubby is on vaca this week. He spent the middle of the day on a fishing boat, after a dip in the pool it was naptime. Our male dog LIVES TO LIE DOWN WITH HIS HUMANS. This is his favorite thing to do so off they went to dreamland. Two hours later I heard T-bear barreling down the stairs and then tossing himself on his back in the middle of the foyer and rolling from side-to-side on the rug. There he was; a 45-pound dog, fairly large when it comes down to it, and joyfully rolling around like a puppy (he's 9 years old).

T-bear came to our family after spending 3 months in a shelter. He had been turned in by a family that bought him from a pet store. That means he was born in a puppy mill. Puppy mills are evil horrible places. T-bear was turned in to the shelter when he was just over a year old. He was no longer a cute little puppy, he was now an adult dog, big and untrained, and off he went to the shelter. He was one of the lucky ones, he was in a low kill shelter with an awesome director who wanted him to end up with the right family, he did; he ended up with us. He's the king. Right now he's zoned out happily on two dog beds piled on top of each other because he CAN be. Because he's safe and loved and cared for (and there are lots of dog beds in this house).

Our oldest dog suffered a stroke 9 weeks ago. I came home to find her completely paralyzed, unable to do so much as bark. We've spent $7,000 in the past 9 weeks to get this 12 year old dog healthy again. She's had acupuncture and physical therapy in a hydro tank. We're lucky, we can actually afford this extravagance but we also have pet insurance and today we received a check in the mail for nearly $5,000! Awesome, perfect, nice to get that money back but what's even nicer is that our dog can walk (and bark) again. She was a rescue, just like T-bear. I met her foster family in a park somewhere, she'd been with them for a few weeks and they were anxious to move her along so they could get their next foster. She was only about 9 months old at the time, she's been with me ever since.

Our youngest dog, our "accident" is a failed foster. She was due to be put down, euthanized, PTS as it's commonly called simply due to overcrowding at the shelter where she was. She was only 6 months old at the time, a baby condemned to death because she was in an overcrowded shelter, she'd been there too long and she was deemed less adoptable than some of the others (not good with men…she's fine with men). She's crazy and wild and skittish. Her family died in an accident and she landed her sorry ass in a shelter. A baby who had a family suddenly in a scary place with no one to explain things to her and no way to understand what landed her there. Her behavior was most likely not great, how would you feel in those circumstances, would you allow strangers to stuff you in a cage and handle you less than lovingly? Probably not so the only way they would turn her over was if rescue would take her, lucky for her, we could pull her just in time. She was adopted out once but got returned to us, she had already bonded to us and she just wanted to come "home" to us we kept her.

These are all successes. They're ALIVE, they made it. But the things I see on Facebook these days are heartstoppingly sad all those who don't make it and even worse the cruelty of humans towards these helpless animals. What is wrong with us humans? How are we so justified in our arrogance to other animals? We seem so sure of some pre-ordained hierarchy not just within the animal kingdom overall but even within each species. We see this in how humans treat other humans, we judge on race, culture, or other stupid variables. We go so far as to pass laws to make sure that the "inferior" groups are aware of just how inferior they are. It's shocking when you really think about it.

And because we humans have learned NOTHING from our past mistakes, we're now pushing these prejudices onto our canine companions. Yup, arrogant humans get to say what breeds can live or die based on vast and ignorant generalizations. This canine holocaust is benignly called "breed specific legislation" (BSL), look under those meaningless words and what you find are laws not just authorizing mass killings, no these laws oftentimes DEMAND mass killings of specific breeds of dogs even if those INDIVIDUAL dogs have done nothing. In some instances families are told to surrender a harmless family pet to be euthanized simply because they look like a breed that falls under these laws. Hard to believe isn't it? I wish I was making this up but I'm not.

Pit Bulls are the most commonly executed breed. This confuses me to no end. You all do realize that "Petey", the dog from the Little Rascals, was a pit bull, right? I mean for years and years pitties were "America's dog". They were THE family dog to have around. What happened folks? They did change, we did. We became stupider and less tolerant.

Facebook is doing an excellent job of getting this info out there. Rescue groups and individuals are sharing information like the sad and stupid killing of Lennox the pit bull in Belfast and other similar situations but I have to say that it is actually starting to tear my heart to shreds. I go through periods of not being able to even look at these items anymore. I feel helpless and useless. Why can't I do more? I haven't done enough.

My comfort? The only real comfort I can get is looking around me on a night like this and seeing these three rescued dogs comfortable and SAFE. Safe from the scary life of a shelter dog, safe from the fear of abuse or abandonment, they're here with me and my husband and they are loved and cared for and fed and loved and kissed and petted and played with. They're safe.

I want every single dog to feel this way and live this way. I want humans to wake up and get over their arrogance and stupidity. We need to know that the prejudices we harbor are wrong against other humans and equally wrong when applied to other species. Wake up people we really aren't all that great.

For right now though, right this very second, I'm not looking at those stories on Facebook; nope. I'm writing this blog post and I'm glancing up at some very contented canines who are happy and safe and loved.

As Bob Barker always says, "Please spay or neuter your pets!"