Ah, Grandma.

Riley was very excited to see them both, but once in Elaine's lap, she  immediately fell asleep.

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Elaine with her only granddaughter

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Busy day, I am exhaust

So tired I can't finish the title.

Ignored cat yowling until 6:30, then staggered out to fill her food bowl and staggered back to bed.

Somewhere around 9, finally got up, showered, realized I was running late, ushered myself and Riley out the door.

Spent 20 minutes discussing clipper lengths, mohawk requirements, old lady bumps, and persnickety dog temperaments, then Riley was zipped away from me. I went and ate breakfast and read seven (very short) chapters of my book, then took crap DVDs to the pawn shop. I was looking to get rid of them, maybe trade, I told the guy. He started going through them as I perused the Wii games, hoping for a Zumba. Nope. He said it was 50 cent movie day, and I don't mean movies starring 50 cent, so the aisle was packed. I stood at the end and craned my neck, (Is there a Shyamalan in there?) but the guy was ready. "I can give you $15," he offered. Shit, really? I thought I'd be lucky to walk out with $7 or maybe a game or a couple movies. "Okay." I signed the pawn slip, he handed me the cash, then wished me happy hunting in the DVD aisle. "Thanks," I said, and walked out the door.

I had missed a call, see, and knew it would be the LaunderMutt, but it was also more money than I thought I was working with, and would rather keep it. I went back to LaunderMutt and the owner was hesitant. There wasn't much definition between the mohawk and the buzz, did I want them to even it out? They brought her to me and she was just adorable. They took the mohawk all the way down to her tail nubbin, so she's got this poof at the back- cutest thing ever. She was trimmed up and smelled so pretty. Fabulous. Done. Besides, good luck getting her back on that table! The mohawk is there, but it will probably show better when she's dirty and her hair stands up more. I wanted that spot evened up where they had to shave her after her injury, get her buzzed for coolness, but leave protection from sunburn on her back. It's a fauxhawk.

Riley was relieved to go home, and we sat in the cool, shady grass, then prepped to meet Elaine and Ant in Carson. We met for lunch and talked a while. (I tried Del Taco's Asada steak taco because it came with guacammmmmmolllllle (and did you know they have a cheap eats menu with 75 cent mini quesadillas and such?) and it was so good.) Then we went to watch Ant skate, but it was hot and he had a root beer float earlier and he was probably feeling that more than the urge to skate, so we went to Goodwill and put Riley in the cart's child bucket on her dog bed and I drove her around the store. Nobody said anything, but everyone wanted to pet her. Ant found t-shirts, I found a weird puzzle and scanned the books for something Ant might actually read. He picked a Louis Sachar novel from the stack and when I offered Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul (he likes animals and true stories), he said he'd rather have the one with the people who died. I only realize now how perfect it was that I was there- who else would understand and not be horrified? I turned and grabbed Chicken Soup for the Kid's Soul, because he's talking about true, sad, and uplifting stories about people. He said he'd read something about a girl whose brother died in a fire and there was something about rainbows, and her brother loved rainbows and it was his birthday... Don't worry, kiddo, I gotcha. This is my Rescue 911 and Reader's Digest fix- you like having your heart tugged too. I bet you he'll read that book.

He's at Topaz for a couple more weeks and bored. I also bought him ConnectFour, which he loves. When I offered it, he sighed. "We don't really play board games anymore," meaning at home. "Mike will play," I said. He grinned. "Okay."

Elaine bought me a pretty green beaded bracelet. We all hugged, exchanged I love yous, and drove opposite ways on 395. At home, I offered Riley cool grass time, but she led the way inside. Dinner and done, she said. I just watched Mirror Mask. (You both should have watched it. It's Cirque and Henson and British.) Now I may just drive to Blockbuster to return Promised Land (Eh.) and Killing Them Softly (Not nearly as good as I'd heard.) Tomorrow is work on my project day, and I may just be tired enough to go to bed early.

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Eight minutes to bedtime

Unforgiven is a silly movie.

I was just sitting in the living room listening to Riley's little sleeping noises (so cute!) and the urge struck to write. Too bad that the neighbor I've been stealing internet from is moving. He was a nice guy and I wish him well, but what will I do now? The library, Starbucks, McDonalds... which reminds me: thanks, Jessica, for that horrible information about diet soda. Damn. I haven't quit it yet, but now I'll have to. I went and read up more and haven't had one since, but it's only been eleven hours- I will probably leap off the wagon tomorrow. Sooner or later I will wean myself of my last horrible habit. I am inclined to do it soon because I read that Drew Carey lost all that weight by cutting out diet sodas. There may be other things involved, but I'm already doing those. Wouldn't it be awesome, though, to drop some weight after this ridiculous breakup? Oh, I'm so sad, let me just go buy this bikini.

I thought about going to the gym tonight, eh? Eh? Instead, I tried to help a dog, which I will write about tomorrow on a keyboard. Sometimes I wonder if I am ever any help at all.

BUT. The final thoughts before I sleep will be positive: the dog got home. I have vegetables to pack for lunch tomorrow. I walked Riley four times today. I kept up with the top call numbers at work. I drank water (most of the day). My apartment is mostly clean. I am keeping up with my bills and working hard to wrangle them down. I am maintaining: my bills, my weight, my sanity. Keep your fingers crossed that Riley has lost some weight.

Now to sleep and envision even better things... and tomorrow, to write down the next steps to get those things.

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NOW it's bedtime.

Ok, yeah, but it was only 64 pieces.

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Next puzzle?

It's been a quiet evening with Ella Fitzgerald and pieces of ugly jellybeans, since I'd already put together my favorite colors. The only piece missing was the one the dog ate. Not my dog. Did I post that here?

Will I devour Gone Girl tonight or go to bed with the hopes of waking up before 9? There is vacuuming and cooking to be done.

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No more time outs

I just spent four hours reading Gone Girl. I can tell I will read it until it is done, trying to test my blood and eat dinner over it, try not to drip water on it while I brush my teeth. I'm so thankful for the three day weekend. I've been very productive, but not everything is done. I did lots today in a sweeping charge timed to three loads of laundry, but then I sat down and could not stop reading.

Here again is a book (movie, song, etc.) that speaks to me with such relevance. I had a sad moment as the situation turned to mirror my own, but paused the book at a point where it was confirmed to me (again, again) that I need to go forward as what is truly me, be me, be proud to be authentic. I do not want to pretend or emulate or follow examples. I want to do/wear/say what feels right and only that.  My personality test results surprised me- I did not think I was secretive or quiet- I thought I wore who I was. But I have been looking and I see that it's true. I have a few real confidants; everyone else gets what they expect from me. My silence seems to imply agreement. Yesterday, my neighbor let his dog jump into my car- an intimacy I get the feeling he hopes for, but not one that exists. And wow.  But what did I do? Stood back with a baffled silence. What could I have said that would not have reduced me to rudeness? Recently I spoke up to a friend for once about something truly indefensible and they defended it anyway, of course. I never speak up unless it's someone close and they'll tell you- I won't hesitate... or let up. But for those who aren't that close, it's useless. I seem to be some blank canvas that they draw their picture on. When I disagree, it's as if I don't have a right. I can read people, the results say, and it's true. But they can't read me like I think they can, and I'm learning that I have to speak up, but without sinking to anger or rudeness. I'm going to imagine channeling Mom's cool, calm clarity and ask myself first if I should say it and if so, how. But I am going to go forward feeling "fearlessly free to be me" (Thanks, Potts.) and stop letting people draw all over me. I am as I am- there are no blanks waiting for you to fill in. My counselor asked me back in the fall to proudly take up room, because I belong. That idea has been marinating long enough.

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