MRFs

I have been a cooking machine the last few nights, but now I've got a burger patty, ham slices, and individual meatloaves all packaged up and ready to eat.

My hands are chapped from the constant washing and it got cold outside. I just put on some Gold Bond big guns lotion.

Today we ate lunch at Süp. A slice of quiche and a cup of soup and a tiny oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. I don't remember what was in the quiche because I was too busy eating it, but I do know that its description on the chalkboard made us both order it. My soup was broccoli cheddar, Dad had chicken tortilla. Folks, remind me to take you to Süp when you come visit.

Time for Roseanne on Netflix.

Almost Dinnertime

Ham and mac 'n cheese are in the oven, Dad is flash frying fresh green beans. Say that three times fast. I am drinking Shock Top and grooving to my Good Boys playlist. It was a lazy day filled with cookies, well wishes, and awesome presents. I've got good food, good company, good beer, and good music. I hope you do too. Merry Christmas.

You can now call me a happy girl.

Groceries are bought and put away, half my apartment is cleaned and vacuumed, my tree is up (thanks to Sparky for that kick in the pants), Amazon boxes are stacked more or less under the tree, and reciprocal Amazon boxes will make it in time. It's almost midnight, but it's still Saturday night, and I'm going to watch as much of The Fellowship as possible (about 20 minutes, I'm sure) before I fall asleep. I often feel like weekends get away from me, but this one feels good.

It will be fine.

I finally had my pre-holiday meltdown and just took half of a pre-holiday valium.

I am extremely unhappy with myself at the moment, and it is really hard to reach past this feeling to convince myself that it is only temporary, and that I do not always hate myself. That not everything I do is selfish and procrastinating.

Valium works quickly.

Ok, so two things I know to do right now:

1) Be grateful. I have amazing people in my life who either aren't aware that I am awful or who love me in spite of it. I have a lot of good that needs to be noticed.

2) Redefine or revisit my values. Is what I'm doing in line with what's important to me?

This is like math: I need to make sure I'm using the right formula and setting up the problem right.

Here's a tired, half-drugged attempt:

It is important to me to treat myself kindly.

It is important to me to show appreciation to all, but especially the ones dear to me.

It is important to me to be a good pet owner.

It is important to me to be brave.

It is more important to me to make a messy effort than none at all.

Feeling Useful

I was just at Winco getting groceries. I didn't fight for the shorter line, instead patiently waited in the long one. I was finally buying the beer I'd been craving all week, but I forgot that I have not received my replacement driver's license yet.

Well, now as I look I realize I haven't actually told you what happened yet. Just before my trip to Phoenix for Thanksgiving, my wallet was stolen. I'll finish that post next.

So I'm standing there wondering if I'm going to get carded, because I always get carded at Winco. Sure enough, she asks, and I produce the temporary paper drivers license I printed out from the DMV website. I explain that my wallet was stolen, and she asks me from where.

I tell her work: the VA, and she says she'll have to warn her father, who is a new patient there. She tells me he just moved here and has to take the bus in from Carson City. I tell her that there are volunteers who drive people in from outlying areas. She was trying to tell me more about her dad's situation in between questions from her next customer, so I gave her my work number. I have really got to start carrying my business card.

I drive home from Winco, and before I even take the groceries in, I check the mail, and there is my driver's license. I meant to check the mail earlier today. If I had, I would have had my ID and there would have been no reason to talk about the VA.

Maybe it is not so cut and dried as "everything happens for an reason." Or maybe we just don't often see it. It's a pretty crazy tie to get to this, but it sounds like her dad needs help, she needs information, and I can be the link they need.

It's not that the information isn't available or that the government wants to restrict it or that the VA doesn't care about veterans, as my conspiracy theorists like to tell me. It's that there is too MUCH information available- it's overwhelming. I bet he's already got the book and the transportation info. All they need is 15 minutes on the phone with someone who can stop and listen, who knows what questions to ask, and who can give them a roadmap for the most pressing needs. It doesn't sound like much, but I have received so much gratitude from so many vets and their families for this that I know how valuable it is. In two and a half years at the VA, I have learned- not all, but a lot- just by trying to answer these questions for people and I suddenly see what my coworkers keep telling me:

Grand plan or not, I am in the right place.

You wouldn't like me when I'm angry... or sick. Or jarred from a nap.

The danger in answering the phone while taking a nap is that it might be an asshole calling.

Perhaps I shouldn't have answered, as I was apparently still all confused and not quite awake, but nobody ever knows they're not awake. All I heard was something about "we have your cat" and my brain struggled through sleep and the snot from my cold. "What?"

"Are you missing a cat?"

I thought hard. I thought of Laxy, of course. I saw Solo up on her cat shelves.

"...not for some time."

"Well, obviously we've got the wrong number," the voice sneered, all attitudey.

"Wait... you found a cat?"

Laughter, then CLICK.

My actual next thought was: Now, wait just a goddamn minute.

If I had still been talking to a person, I would have actually said that, which makes me feel very old.

I feel old and confused anyway, so it feels like a prank. I wonder if it was.

I look at the phone and try to find another cat in my brain. Recalculate; are you missing something? The time to process crucial information has passed- the number is restricted. Now I'm just confused and struck awake and... mad.

I spent the past two days on my couch, filling Kleenex, drinking tea, mouth breathing, trying to warm my feet. Today was my first day back at work, and like always after an absence, my chair is all wonky, nothing was shut down, my stuff is moved... I thought I was feeling ok, but my short fuse, no sense of humor, and first glance from a coworker told me otherwise. They banished me to Urgent Care, where apparently the theme of the day was horrible sore throats. No attention was paid to my unexplained neck pain, which convinces me that it's meningitis, and I was assured after a review of symptoms that I have no strep, no Ebola, just a cold. Back to my desk I went, only to be further harassed by caring coworkers, and I gave up on much work by around 1pm thanks to the ceaseless interruptions that I normally juggle with easy smile. The Hulk formerly known as Lou Ferrigno was supposed to come visit the hospital today, but had to cancel due to illness. I find this an appropriate sign that I shouldn't have come in either, because I could feel the green monster in me lurching around. The sweet timekeeper was trying to help me fix my timecard after several failed attempts, and called me when our email conversation did not result in the correct amount of leave. I did a minor roar before grabbing the phone and realized that I might not be as well as I had originally thought. I managed to label my rage as cold-induced and put it away for the 17th time that morning. This was 9am.

Sparky gave me a comic book a few months ago. Did you know that there's a She-Hulk? Her name is Jennifer.

Even on my day off.

Old guys...

I'm out at breakfast, sitting at the counter at Kimmie's. I can never remember that their stools are too short. So I'm between two old guys and the waitress asks one of them if he'd like more Pepsi.

"What?"

"Would you like a refill?" she asks.

"No!" he coughs, then calls after her: "No mas!"

Nice job, doofus. Not sure you needed to show off your extensive Spanish skills, seeing as how that exchange was in English.

Immediately after that, dude on my left asks, "Where's the blonde girl? Doesn't she work here anymore?"

"Which one?" our patient waitress asks. "There's like three blonde girls that work here."

"The real blonde," he says.

Eyeroll, gross old dude.

Maybe it is time to go sit in a different part of the hospital and work less directly with old guys for a while. Maybe I'm a little tired. As I write, I'm thinking that this falls under the self-righteous indignation category. I'm going to have to chuck those assessments.

My job is about to undergo a major change, and I seem to be cleaning house right now anyway. I just rearranged my bedroom- that felt fantastic. I signed up for Audible on Saturday, and I'm two hours away from finishing This Is Where I Leave You. Tremendous timing... between the book and getting a WAY better interest rate on a consolidation loan, I am thinking a lot about the sadness behind me and the life ahead. I do not want to stagnate, I do not want to be bitter, I do not want to be stubborn and sadly stuck. Onward.

Alright.

Because she's been so patient (and persistent), here is the wedding blog, or as I like to call it, the wlog.

The wedding was very nice. It was held at what I described to a coworker as an old, fancy, small, hotel kindof thing, which didn't help her understand what the hell I was talking about. Then I said it was in Old Town Alexandria, and she knew right away.

All my pictures are from the getting ready part, and I was sneaking pictures while the photographer was doing her thing, so let me just assure you that the real pictures are going to be gorgeous.

The light in there was perfect, and Tracy's dress was all Grecian and pretty. She got it for a steal too, which just delights me.

I was running up and down the stairs right about now between the bride and groom staging areas. I delivered the boy flower and asked for the precious, but Dave's brother had no idea what I was talking about. I get that a lot.

See what I mean? The pictures are gonna be gorgeous.

Mom and I were both stealing pictures and trying to stay out of the way.

Here's my Once Every Decade hosiery obligation. I spent way longer than anticipated in the bathroom trying to get those suckers on. Then I got a hole in them. That reminds me- some nights ago, I had a dream that I was trying to help Tracy get ready for the wedding, but I kept having wardrobe failure after wardrobe failure, which is a pretty accurate description of what happened.

I am fond of this particular series that happened after the photographer left, just before I skittered down the stairs to wait in the Clue room with the rest of my family members and soon to be family members.

And of course, we couldn't leave without stepping all over the train first.

Downstairs, we waited with Dave. Tracy was hovering somewhere nearby, waiting for the cue from the coordinator. Eventually we got the green light and the harpist started playing. Dave's brother and mom went in, Dad and I went in, I can't remember if Mom and Marty went in before or after us because I was busy trying not to screw up, then Dave and the non-denominational but very reverential reverend. I was at that level of nervous where you can't actually focus on anything, so I was quite relieved to be brought back to earth by the sweet sounds of the harp playing Pachelbel's Canon. pling! pling! pling! BWOWww

HEE HEE HEE!

She was trying hard, but she's not putting out a CD anytime soon. I tried not to find it nearly as funny outwardly as I did inwardly, but the nervousness did not help my giggles.

I am always dismayed by how much the reverend speaks. I see how if this is your church, and this person has known you forever, they might have more of a role, but it seems so weird to me to see pictures of these two people who love each other so much... sandwiching some random person that they don't know and will likely never see again. That's why I wanted Chris's friend, or Aunt Kate... or even if we did have to go with the very watered down "family member" who was ordained in prison, it would be somebody we knew who would marry us... but Jennyway.

So the ceremony is over quickly and preciouses exchanged, and Dave and Tracy start to turn and walk out of the room. Blah blah blah... "present Mr. and Mr. Buracker." So I think that had us all rolling. They leave and I don't know if I'm supposed to go get Dad and follow them or what, so we all just kind of look at each other and shrug until someone points us in the next direction, which was either alcohol or pictures, I can't remember.

I managed to get my Diet Coke purse into the ceremony, but outside, the photographer very lovingly gave me permission to set it down. Multi-option family photos to follow. I think it was Dad (or was it Marty?) who started singing, "You put your mother-in-law in, you take your mother-in-law out..." We continued playing Who's the Closest Relatives to the Happy Couple until we were all eliminated and went back inside for more alcohol and schmoozing. At some point, we were herded into the private dining room, where Tracy poured champagne all over my chair. Ok, now I really have to make a list:

1. Failure to bring hosiery
2. Original dress rejected by Mom
3. Unanticipated struggle to get into hosiery
4. Raging period
5. Unable to buckle shoes
6. Can't fit anything into ornamental Diet Coke purse
7. Champagne lap
8. Dad narrowly avoids setting his jacket on fire- Jenny prevents this and a beer from being knocked over
9. Step on Tracy's train as she's walking
10. Informed of hole in hosiery
11. Negate earlier save by knocking Dad's glass out of hand from my overenthusiastic dancing, sending wine simultaneously up his nose and down his shirt.

Dad told me about his trip to the dry cleaner's. He was telling the lady about what happened to his suit when they both noticed some schmutz a little further down on his jacket. "AH, CAKE!" she identified.

Yeah, so I wasn't the only one. And I'm sure there are other wardrobe failures I'm missing, but those were entertaining.

So, dinner. Tracy did us all a disservice by not telling us how delicious the chicken was going to be, so damn near everyone ordered steak. She did tell us it was really good, but I imagine wedding chicken to be a dried up, boneless, skinless, tasteless chicken breast with a lemon slice on top on a bed of shitty pasta. She was kind enough to feed me chicken bits. The steak was good too, but not nearly as delicious as that frigging chicken. I also heard there was pasta available.

Beer! Wine! Champagne! Toasts!

Eventually we stopped eating and were herded back to the ceremony room for some cake and goth clubbing. I guess some of the couples were waiting for a slow song to dance to, but it never came, but it was also not their wedding, so fuck 'em. I say that appropriately, because this was the most personalized wedding playlist ever. There was no Chicken Dance at this shindig.

The only thing that sucked was that we had to STFU by 10. That was probably for the best, as Tracy and I were shutting down by yelling CAKE lyrics to each other. Alienation- it's what we do.

Tracy's friends drove me back to T&D's so I could babysit the puppies. I took one more picture that night of my pretty hair and makeup that Tracy got for me. I was sad to take it all down, because I felt so pretty in it.

That's after 10+ hours, alcohol, food, and dancing! I had wardrobe malfunctions all over, but no hair or makeup failures. Thanks for that treat, Tracy!

It really was a lovely time, and I can't wait to see the real pictures!

One of these days I'm gonna...

So somebody had some choice words about my writing. They had some very valid points and overall it was a serious compliment, but it was accompanied by some pretty shitty generalizations. I tried very hard to be grateful, because the overall message was confidence in my writing, but it was very hard to listen.

You're going to have to forgive me for my mini rant. I don't know what it is about Sundays that sucks so bad. Plus I am not ready to go face another week, and it depresses the shit out of me that my next adventure is not for over a month, and at this very moment I am cranky. That was one of the assessments, by the way: that I write about self pity. And self-righteous indignation. Waaaahhh, goddammit.

The main argument is that I'm wasting time and I need to be writing actual pieces and submitting them. That is valid. I agree. And this is just my outlet. I like it better than writing in my journal. Where else can you bathe in self pity and self-righteous indignation? But if that's all there is to read, then that's what you have to judge. Noted. But this stuff here is not for your judgment. It's for my sanity. And I can't laugh about this stuff until I process it. This is my process.

I got back from Virginia on Wednesday, and I have a blog on order about that, though it will take energy I don't have at the moment, which means that could never show up. Tracy requested it though, so I will follow through if she harasses me enough.

In the meantime, here's what's happening at the moment:

I went to pick up Riley from Chris's house on Wednesday, because Mike and Elaine decided not to come get her for the week I was gone as we planned. I don't know why, and I'm afraid the answer will just annoy me. Jasmine was just as excited as Riley to see me, and very sad when she didn't get to come with us. Chris asked if I could take her this weekend, as he would be working a lot. I was wrecked and not looking for extra dog duty quite yet, but agreed on Friday. Friday went all haywire and I never heard from him Saturday, but I got a call around 7:00 Saturday night from an unidentified person who said, "Um hi... I've got... Jasmine?" I took down the address and headed right over, calling Chris on the way. He sounded upset, saying that his roommate must have let her out and forgotten to bring her back in. She was almost two miles away from the house, and she perked up when she saw me. She ran to me and was so excited to see me that she headbutted me a couple times. "You have a REALLY sweet dog," the finder told me.

It was really weird- I was supposed to pick her up on Saturday, I had asked Chris about her food on Wednesday, I was given a stack of coupons at work and had actually gone through them that afternoon and found one for her food, I had just put her food bowl through my dishwasher, I bought another dog blanket that afternoon... it was serendipitous, as Sparky put it. I think it's more like being tuned into the universe, like when I think a person will text me a second before they do. My number was listed on the tag because I made that tag months ago at PetSmart. It was supposed to be Chris's number, then Topaz, but I put myself right in the middle. It was a good thing, since Chris's number has since been disconnected. When we got back to my place, Jasmine ran all the way to my door.

So that was weird.

I have a horrifying number of books to read before the end of the year. I am currently debating about what to read next. Tracy suggested Unbroken, as did Shannon, but I'm not sure I can handle a devastating true story, which is usually my favorite genre. The trip, the family drama, and the wedding seem to have sucked all the energy out of me. I should start scheduling a recovery day after my vacations. I don't mean that to sound as awful as it does. I had a good time, and enjoyed the company, the family, the wedding. I even danced exuberantly and hit a wine glass... ugh. I will cringe forever at that memory. Other than that and the drama, it was a perfectly lovely visit. It was nice to be among trees in the rain, but I did breathe a surprising sigh of relief when the plane descended and I saw Nevada's brown wrinkles. Maybe it's just my little place of solitude, or being in control of my day, or driving my car, or wailing to my music. It felt good to collect my critters and curl up in my bed. I suppose it felt good to be back at work too, but that is a different form of stress that is all challenging and character building and all that bullshit and a story for another day. Tonight I have watched a Frasier episode and giggled, ate a delicious meal that I cooked, already portioned out the leftovers, I walked the dogs individually, I did tons of laundry, I cleaned, I reorganized, I even watched a movie earlier today. It was not a bad Sunday, but Sundays are oddly my least favorite days. Now I guess I understand why you don't like fall, Mom.

Witchy Woman

I finally figured out how to upload more than one picture at a time, but I still can't narrate as I'd like to from my phone.

We decorated for Halloween. And rats will eat anything, including Tabasco, apparently.

Cheers

Two years ago at this time, I was moving into my own apartment. It was sad and horrible, and I think it took me a while to realize the shock of it all. I remember feeling- about a month into it- like I should be over it, and I see now that I was still shocked then and for several months after that. I think it was around six months later that I looked up, still feeling bruised to the bone, wondering how it could have possibly been that long ago. It still feels odd, but odd because my current life is what feels normal. This apartment, this hairstyle, being on my own...

Shock protects you, but it can also kill you. I think I have been emerging from the shock, but long after I thought. I wonder if I still am, and how long I will be. I saw a friend the other day and she was proud of me for ending things with Sparky. She found it so promising that I was able to end something that was not right for me, and to be the one to walk away. Being a coworker, she was one of very few who nursed me through every day of that nightmare. Writing that, I am struck by her kindness and wonder what on earth I can do to acknowledge it and show my heartfelt appreciation. When I saw her, she pointed out some things I said about Chris and how I had just been proven wrong. I think I knew that somewhere underneath, but to have it named like that brought it up to the surface.

So here I am in Virginia after a long day of traveling. We ate a lovely dinner and sat around the table and talked- such a simple family tradition that I rarely get these days. It felt comfortable and warm and good, like it should, and I am happy to be here. I haven't been back here since this whole mess, and it's nice to be among family- the bustling and bickering and gentle, usually happy chaos that comes with out-of-town visitors and weddings. It's nice to be a member of this family, to fall into place and be reassured that that my place here exists regardless of everything else that changes. And yeah, that will change too, someday, but I look around here and see the same books as when I moved here 13 years ago when I left the Air Force and Bryan. I know the stories of this house and my family, and I have a pretty good idea of what the week ahead will look like with these people I know so well.

On Sunday, my anniversary of wreckage will become a much happier memory- a celebration of Tracy and Dave's wedding, with family and food and questionable dancing on the part of a tipsy maid of honor. I will raise a toast to my sister and be glad to know that it's true that

Love is out there waiting somewhere

You just have to go and find it.

Tracy said blog

That's me sitting at the airport eating an Egg White Delight. It's eaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhhllyy and I have an hour to kill in ergonomic yet uncomfortable chairs. I'm not sure why my carry on is so heavy, except that I pack like I'm on an Everest expedition. I'm very excited to announce that I was in bed by 10 the night before a trip. Look at me with my adult luggage and shit...

Now I'm off to see if anyone's got Vicks Kleenex in this bitch. (4:30 am language)

I'm going, I'm going...

Back to the old anxiety. I hate having things to do on a Sunday afternoon because I feel stressed all weekend about having to go. It makes a huge difference to have someone to go with and I, of course, put an end to that. It's always worse in my mind than in reality, but even knowing that doesn't help. But I can hear my therapist saying, "Yep! Do it anyway." Besides, I ask myself, what were you gonna do anyway? Fine. Aaarrrggggghhhhhh...

The Jenny P.

I finally got up today and ran errands. I didn't get too much done but that's okay, because I needed the rest. I feel a lot saner than I did on Friday afternoon. It feels so nice to have this rainy weather, but when I got home I could not wait to take off what felt like wet socks (even though they were not) and put on warm, fuzzy, thick, dry socks. I've got on this lovely flannel button down shirt that's actually made for females, and it is comfy and pretty. I just feel good today. Now I am cooking dinner- if you can believe that- and I'm about to sit down to eat it in front of Rififi, which I read is a masterful movie. It has been raining all day long: a fall rain with a chill in the air and I feel like Margaret on the Maggie B.

 

 

 

North Star, star of the sea,
I wish for a ship
Named after me,
To sail for a day
Alone and free,
With someone nice
For company.

 

Stayed up late, slept in, got up to feed me and the girls, pottied Riley, and went back to bed. It feels good to rest after this week. I was exhausted.

Hgggg f ggffff

Looking through pictures at 4:30 in the morning when you're wide awake after crashing is a terrible idea. Actually, looking at pictures at all is a terrible idea. Now I just feel empty and sad. This is compounded by realizing that my apartment got messy again when I wasn't looking and milk has not magically appeared in my fridge yet. It's ok. It's fine.

Patriotic and prehistoric are close enough

There's this bulletin board at work that is used to display artwork by kids from the nearby elementary school. Some kids are just the best.

RRRAAWWWWRRRRR

And now, some rest.

I just had a really lovely night.

My day was really good too, but I am running short on time. I ran home after work and did a super productive clean. Paulette came over and we made meal #2 from Blue Apron. I took some pictures and promise to make a better blog than that mess yesterday. She helped me clean the kitchen and the whole thing was packed up by 7:30, which is earlier than I even started last night. I ran to the store to get a small gift for the librarian from Sacramento, who has been here training me all week. He is retiring in December, so this will likely be the last time I see him. He promises to be available for questions until then, thankfully, but those of us who know him will be sad to see him go. So I got a little present (that he will protest and appreciate) and then I went home, admired my clean apartment, and had an ipod dance party. Look: furthering my work knowledge, getting chores knocked out, laughing and cooking a delicious meal with a friend, sharing some gratitude, then dancing my joyful tail off in my living room. And tomorrow's Friday!

Oh...

You can't see the patties because I cooked the living shit out of them. They are tiny but delicious. The cucumber salad is tasty, but I'm not sure how it's supposed to feed two people, because I'm going to eat it all.

The process

The mint smells wonderful.

The rolls smell incredible. Oh my god...

Dropped the scooped out cucumber seeds on the floor.

Why the hell am I starting this so late?

Why the hell am I starting this so late and without any help?

I'm going to die alone.

See you then Lee sliced onion hahaha voice recognition thinly sliced onion can also work as chunks of onion.

This game sucks.

Actually, this is starting to look and smell pretty good.

I feel like a chef. Aww yeah.

You want to smell this.

9:30 and I'm toasting my buns.

I am definitely running the dishwasher tonight.

I need this food to be ready so I can eat it.

DROOLING

Lamb & Beef Sliders

This is what we are making tonight. Let's see how I do.

Limited blogging options

I would ordinarily make this a photo blog instead of many photo blogs, but I can only post one picture at a time on my phone. Sorry about that.

Irrelevant picture

This is my favorite picture because everything look so beautiful I just want to eat it. This is my Blue Apron plug photo, apparently.

Not in focus

Sorry about that. Here the rest of the vegetables and the bottom part is where the meat is packed in ice packs.

Produce

The produce was packed on top, and I was immediately thinking about keeping the service when I saw how healthy my meals would be. But that's if I can cook them all, as Mom pointed out. Killjoy.

What's inside

All of the ingredients are packed into this box, and mostly labeled by meal.

Blue Apron

One of the volunteers at work subscribes to this service. The ingredients for three fresh meals are delivered each week. Subscribers are given free meals to donate to other people to lure them into the service. I got my free box today, but I will probably have to pay for next week as well, since I probably was not able to cancel in time.

IntroverSHHHHHion

6:45 am on a Saturday. I'm up from a slight low, but the cat would have woken me up anyway. I fed the girls and took Riley out, and now Riley is rolling her treat ball around the living room. Putting her kibble in that was the one of the best ideas I ever stole off the internet.

I have a boring weekend ahead now that I am unattached again, but I am looking forward to having a chance to rest and catch up. I'll figure out what kind of trouble I can get into later- for now, I just want some quiet.

The librarian from the Sacramento VA is coming to spend next week training me- this is the second and final visit, as he retires in December. I have to make sure I am really focused for that.

Also, I had a very important realization that I am lacking in good work shirts, so I'll be out at our favorite tagline stores, armed with coupons.

It won't be like this every weekend, but it's good to have just one.

Eventually trainable

I have lived here for almost two years, and I just now figured out how to thwart the dryer. Do you ever wonder how you make it out the door in the morning? Do you ever wonder how I make it out the door in the morning?

So I heard or read somewhere recently that you should not make decisions based on your emotions, and I was dumbfounded, because that implies that there is another way to make decisions! I... what?

But of course, the reason that information makes sense to me (now) is that I wear those feelings so thoroughly and immediately. It's a little alarming. Do you have anything I can take responsibility for- anything you'd like me to feel guilty about? It's a good thing I wasn't raised Catholic. Jesus.

Sparkles

I had most of a blog written earlier when I left the page to look for a picture and the whole damn thing disappeared. That was not how the old phone worked, gd. But last night I heard a woman say that God answers her in three ways: yes, no, and if you insist. I'm going to take notes from that and not attempt to rewrite that blog as was (because I could), and instead incorporate my new findings.

I was telling you that I felt like a deservedly unloved asshole because I broke it off with someone I did not feel was right for me. Well, not because of that. I felt like an asshole for the way I did it and... well, just the fact that I caused hurt by doing it at all. That sucks, and I have been feeling sick and awful for three days. I really, really do not like that part. And maybe I was not clear enough and maybe I did not say it often enough, but I DID try to communicate my concerns. I tried several times and with that realization, I am suddenly feeling much less defensive and apologetic about my decision.

I was being told that I was not communicating, but I was. Verbally. And like I said, maybe not to the best of my abilities, but it was the best I could do in that particular situation.

If this isn't me, I don't know what is. Let me skulk around, feeling like a bad dog in my asshole hat, wearing that and any other guilt and shame I can put on until I finally notice that I am not the only culprit. And hey, I might have had good reason to feel alarmed or reluctant. And that doesn't make me or him into a bad person, because we are not. Not even close. We're just not it.

So Jennyway

I put The Red Menace back in the box. I admit defeat.

This one came from the thrift store (of course), but in a Ziploc bag! No box! And it's a map puzzle!!! Hooray!

Also, I forgot to tell you that there were zebras.

Seriously, ostriches.

Look at them! Doesn't seem possible, does it.

Ostriches

I got a nice picture of one of the ostrich races. They also raced zebras and had children chase emus and chickens. The chicken race took WAY more time than any other race, even though they started maybe fifteen feet from the finish line. Hysterical.

Just for Tracy

I'm not sure if he's supposed to be inspiring drivers to slow down through Virginia City or just creep them out, but he succeeds at both.

Camels

Went to the camel races yesterday with Sparky. It was pretty hot and my shoulders got cooked again, even though we sprayed me in what must be some very old 50 spf sunscreen. I have never been to the camel races before- it was very silly and lots of fun. I got to skritch one camel's neck, and from the way he or she was stretching out their neck and almost yawning, they were either about to tap their leg or bite my fingers off. There was no attempt to whip their head towards me, so I hope it was good. The ostriches were so neat. I loved watching them.

My soft little fluffy cloud

Poor little princess has been splattering unhappy poos all over my goddamn apartment for the past few days. (Well Marty, you did say you were tired of reading about cat vomit.)

Did I tell you guys about how Sparky taught me to dance to old rock songs under the stars in his backyard between sips of beer as we waited for his super secret chicken recipe to cook on the grill? That was a really lovely night. I have decided that the length of work weeks and weekends will be switched, effective immediately.

Tomorrow should be fun, and I may take some pictures with my new phone that hasn't been bounced across several concrete floors yet. I don't know what it is about parking garages, but I do love to throw a phone there. Note that I haven't told you where I'm going. That's in case plans (or unhappy poos) hit the fan between now and then. (It did look like shit actually hit the fan in here, but thankfully Nature's Miracle is exactly that.)

I'm going to brush the rest of my fluffy cloud girl and get my ass to bed so I can go have fun tomorrow. Goodnight.

Happy Almost Wednesday

Almost 14 years, and this dog has never once had matted fur... until two weeks in the cone of shame. I didn't dare take it off until it was time for it to go for good, because I didn't want to see her severely disappointed expression when I put it back on her. The vet said she is healing very well, and can have a bath now.

Sparky and I went to the duck race on Sunday, and I need to post a blog about that for you, but I am finally ready for bed at bedtime for once, so off I go.

Staples

Waiting for staple removal...

Also,

In other idiotic updates, I just realized that Riley can't scratch her ears.

She is not spazzing out much these days. Sparky was able to step right over her, which should sound insane to any of those of you who know her. I hope it's just cone related depression.

I haven't done much this weekend except hang out with Sparky and enjoy my birthday presents. It was nice to have a quiet weekend, now I'm ready for another. I did meet Jody yesterday for pizza, and we decided that the perfect work day would be 3 hours. I cannot understand why I am not in charge of these things yet.

I am experimenting with ways to prepare myself better for the work week, since nobody is offering me perpetual 3 day weekends. I bought small containers to prepare some grab-and-go lunch and breakfast options, plus I am also going to pre-fill some containers with morning pet food portions, just like pill boxes. Just trying to get my shit together. I miss movies and puzzles, so I'm going to try to accommodate them. I can juggle, right?

Speaking of which, I had better go get ready- we're going to help out at the duck race today.

She is a cat, dummy.

I was just about to post how the birds were being brave and Solo was not chasing them when she went charging out the door and damn near caught one.

Old Lady

Riley News

Just got a call from the vet- the histogram results came back- it's benign.

I'm so confused. Sparky said some cancers are benign, but why did she say we'd find out what stage it was? Does benign cancer have stages? "It's good news," says Sparky.

Yes, it's good news. And I am grateful.

Oh look, more staples

They took the bandage off her leg yesterday. She's still a conehead until next week.

Making Progress

We walked a bit tonight. Riley has no peripheral vision, so she kept turning right in front of me, trying to her me to trip over her. Tomorrow is our follow up appointment to see how she's healing. I think she's doing quite well.

My Lovely Conehead

A day of movies and rest with my little bear.

Tired Sleep

I found a new really great song, but I can't find my checkbook. It's here somewhere, I know I saw it... but I will find it as I put other things away. I love my shirt and my new bracelet ($2.98 on clearance at Target) and Riley seems not to even notice her cone (The Cone of Shame, my neighbor called it). Her ears get folded down a bit by it, and she is not fighting it. I stayed up reading a new book that is quite readable and not terribly long, which provides relief because I am reading and actively working on my goal of 30 books this year. It's also a relief to stay up late and actually get tired before I go to bed and know that if I wake up early tomorrow, I can stay put.

It's not much to write, but it feels better now than it did earlier, and the no was eventually voiced. Several this week, actually. Maybe soon I will learn to schedule a no day into the calendar.

 Quick! Take a shot, cookie the dog, brush teeth, fall asleep and that's it- nothing extra. Do the bare minimum or risk finding a second wind...

Goodnight.

Downtime

Today I was talking with a coworker who is also dealing with the decline of an elderly dog. The conversation made us both sad. At one point she said, "But isn't this the goal? For them to make it this far?"

Yeah, it is. It's sad to lose them no matter how or when they go, but it is nice to be able to let them grow old with us.

And I wonder why I'm not right this week, and why I need alone time. Not alone. Alone with Riley.

Fantastic Day for a Beating

Ok, so took a small boat ride with Amanda and one of the lunch couples through Emerald Bay, and that was a glorious ride. Patti turned on some of her favorite songs, we all kicked back, and looked at the beautiful scenery from the new perspective of the water. The sun was out, there were nice, big, puffy clouds, the green and brown of the trees, gray rocks, the blues and greens of the clear, cool water, some silly, some awesome music, surrounded by seriously wonderful people. All I could do was look and smile and sigh.

After we dropped off our passengers at Camp Richardson, we started across the lake. The water was getting rough, and Jon stopped about halfway there along the shore and said if we were going to get dragged on the raft, this was the place.

See me stretching out my wings, trying to figure out how I was going to stay on? Can you hear me making high pitched EEEEEE noises?

I am amazed I didn't fall off. If they had kept it up for much longer, I would have. It was rough out there. Sparky said he was pretty sure he spent more time hovering above the raft than actually on it. If that's the case, then I must have only touched the raft when I smacked into it. We were BEAT UP. I woke up Sunday from some horrendous knee pain- had to ice it for hours before I could move.

Patti said she knew I'd had enough when I stopped laughing. The whole time my head is down, I'm telling Sparky, "I'm going!"

As we were towed in, I slipped off the raft to pee in the lake. The water wasn't freezing, but cold enough that I had to take a minute to breathe normally, let alone pee. Once that was taken care of, I bobbed around in my life jacket for a little while, enjoying the water. I had never- in the entire ten years I have lived here- swam in Lake Tahoe before. I always heard about how cold it was and had no interest, but now I would not only do it again- I can't wait. It felt SO good.

Smorgasblog

I have to hold Riley's bowl when she eats. The water bowl is pulled away from the wall. Our trips outside are pretty much just potties. If her hearing was getting bad before, it's all kinds of messed up now with the cone. I'm going to put clean sheets over the dog beds because I'm paranoid about her Frankendog wound getting infected.

By the time the cone comes off, the poor dog's going to have a food colored circle around her head.


Ok, you've been so well-behaved.

Random picture of Mini being allowed to sit out on the porch because it's cool enough to keep the door open.


So on Saturday, Sparky and I joined my coworkers at Lake Tahoe for a beautiful day of fun.

 

That's me, Amanda, and Patti...

 



...and Sparky and I at lunch. Also in attendance were Patti's husband, two of our multi-day volunteers and their wives, plus our other work study, Alonso. It was a beautiful, crowded day at Tahoe. We rode across the lake on Patti and Jon's boat with them and Alonso, 3/5 of us drank tequila, we watched Alonso and Jon wakeboard, then met up with everyone else over at Camp Richardson for lunch.

Don't want to go

I would rather just sit with her today.

The Cut

Sorry, Mom.

 

 

I cried when I saw it- I wasn't expecting there to be this big of a hole. The spot that was removed was less than an inch big, so I expected a couple stitches and a bandage. I was not prepared for this.

The lady who brought her out to me and my neighbor (who works there) were great- they were very comforting to me and assured me that Riley is going to be just fine (as they handed me Kleenex.) Debbie, my neighbor, walked us out to my car and made sure Riley got in ok. She gave me her cell number and encouraged me to call with any questions and asked me to text her to say how Riley was doing.

At home, Riley drank a LOT of water and I fed her some peanut butter, then went off to Petsmart to buy her a donut to replace her cone. I went to talk to Deena, my trainer, who was also phenomenally supportive and gave me her number in case I needed emotional support. She expressed concern about switching to the donut, though, and pulled it open so I could see how big it would be inflated. She felt like Riley would be able to reach over the donut to lick her hip (Can you imagine being that flexible?), as Riley is a kind of a long dog. Riley is often between sizes on these kinds of things, so maybe it would work for other dogs. What I LOVED about today was that both the folks at the animal hospital and my trainer know my dog and me. Debbie didn't know Riley was going in today- she just saw Riley in one of the rooms and went to say hi to her. Debbie checked in on her throughout the day, giving her love from a familiar face/scent.

Deena knew what size donut would fit my dog and why it wouldn't work on her. She suggested that I stick with the cone and assured me that Riley would learn to stop banging into things. She also told me that it was good Jasmine isn't here, because other dogs tend to lick wounds, which can create infection and then Riley and I would have to deal with draining the wound. I cried again after leaving Petsmart, thinking about these people I have met on my own who are so kind and supportive to me and my little girl.

Riley is resting now. She had a nice dinner with some meaty gravy concoction, we're going to take a small potty walk outside, then bed. We're both exhausted.