Time for a new map

So there's denial, anger, bargaining, and eventually acceptance... what the hell is the fifth one again? Is it despair? Jesus Christ. You know how it's supposedly better to be alone than with the wrong person? Maybe, but it's really fucking lonely. Even with building new friendships and doing new things, sometimes I think I might actually die of loneliness. I start freaking out about what will happen to Solo after I die of an aneurysm on my couch. I am feeling a very strong need to take a self-defense class or perhaps something a little less serious, but just as physical. My friend gave me a long hug the other day and pointed out how important that is because what single means is we aren't being touched. God, isn't that sad?

I need to just find the next class and sign up. I want something physical- Zumba is helping, but I feel the need for more exercise. And I want to take a math class. Yep- a math class. Constructive puzzles. If that's what I need, that's what I have to do. Now go enjoy the warm, breezy evening and the rest of your walk with Riley.

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Compression! Art and Fire Festival pictures

We got there just as the performances were starting.  There was a lot of stuff like this: people waving around things on fire.

There were these huge poles set up behind the stage that would punctuate performances or the applause with giant burps of fire.  The blasts on the left are those poles- there were six poles with three... um, branches (?) each that set fire blasts in different directions.  There were three huge cannons set up that burped really huge blasts, as you see here.  When ANY of those things went off, you could feel it.  My friend's son had to move to a different spot to get away from the propane smell.  (I was told it was propane.  I have no idea.)

The smart people watched from the parking garage, away from the fumes and flames.

My phone camera is not nearly as awesome as other people's, especially as it got darker, but this was my favorite out of the pictures I took.

These girls were pretty awesome, but my favorite group was the Tahoe Fire Dancers, especially this girl:

That's a rope, people.  She swung that thing around impressively, and that's saying a lot, considering that everybody was swinging things around.  I stole this picture, clearly.  Check them out: http://tahoefiredancers.com/id22.html

Some people got uncomfortably close to the front row, where I was totally ok with not sitting.

Aaaah, stop it!

Exorcisms

Sad days always come like this, because of this, but maybe there's a quota on tears because I feel all cried out now.

It was such a full weekend with beauty and challenge and sadness and people, but I sailed right through it and nobody saw me sad- I put that away. I have 360 degree postcard visions of my favorite lake from the water with my dog asleep in my lap. I watched her play with the other dogs. I threw the stick for them and shifted my weight off the rocks as the water washed the sand away from under my feet. I drank a can of Coors Light on a boat and later we ate ribs and sweet corn. "Can I borrow a brush?" I asked Elaine. "I have boat hair."

And Saturday! Busy, busy. Working on my project, hearing suggestions, listening, helping. The evening was fire and people being audacious- something I wanted to see, invited friends to, and went! Do you know how hard that used to be? And now, the scrapbook of tickets and fliers is getting too fat to close.

The sadness is to be lonely, to feel not that close to anyone. To feel a hole where somebody was. Even if they weren't the right somebody, they're still missing.

The week is less busy without Riley, so I know the stage was already set for sadness. And I let that monster in, I know that. But I knew it was coming and each time it's less devastating. And Solo is here, lonely too, and cuddling with me as often as possible.

Now I know why I only know the dog people in my neighborhood. Without Riley, I come home and don't go out again.

And then I have a private moment with a movie- how do I explain this? A new one after only we loved the first one so much. A new one I thought would be unrelated to the first one and to our history- our relationship to it, and the only person who would just get it and love it and need no explanation or defense of it is gone and I can't even say "Hey, watch this movie" because this is how things turned out- I watched it alone and I'm only sharing it with myself. The moment passed with just me in it. There's nobody else on that page now; what a brutal ending. The movie ending was brutal, too... how fitting.

So ok. It's no accident that the Emotional Intelligence class is this week. It will come right when I need it. Tomorrow is Zumba- work to remove more fat and other negative crap and dance to silly songs:

Bad girls, bad girls
You're such a naughty bad girl

"WHAT?" the instructor yells.

"Uh-huh," we sing in reply.

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Perhaps not.

I keep thinking I'll be able to get rid of this box.

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Notes

Dear coworker,

When I asked you what you thought of the Van Gogh exhibit you had clearly just been to see at the local art museum, the answer should not have been:

"Oh, I already saw it in Amsterdam."

Wow, really, how irrelevant. Interesting that you felt the need to show off rather than answer the question. Next time, try not to assume you are the only person who has been outside of Reno or this country, and stop trying to impress. Just because you have seen art doesn't mean you can talk about it... clearly.

Dear Leroy's owner,

You are a disgrace. Walk your goddamn dog- he is desperate to go outside. And while you're at it, cut the mats out of his hair and brush him once in a while. And for god's sake, neuter him.

Dear neighbor,

I am sorry to hear about all the trouble you're having with your wife's Alzheimer's. It sounds like you live on eggshells, and you seem very frustrated and lonely. How hard it must be already, and then to know it will only get worse. I hope it did help to talk, and I wish you a better day tomorrow than you had today.

Dear checkout guy,

Don't question me. I'm on a budget- I did the math.

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A (long) moment of reflection

I'm not as forthcoming with the gratitude as I should be, so I'm going to document the moment.

Walking my dog is like walking. I thread the leash through my belt loop, hook it to her collar, and just walk. Sometimes I see people looking in awe because I'm not holding the leash or she's not even on one, but heeling anyway. Then I remind myself that it is an accomplishment- that it's not that common. It is not an exhausting, frustrating chore to walk my dog, which is probably why I'm such an advocate. Or maybe we have just practiced enough because I'm such an advocate. It is very important to me to be a good dog owner, and I am out with Riley every single day, practicing commands, giving her exercise and time to smell things, taking her on car rides to fun, interesting places, being extra careful in the heat or the cold. I put a lot of time in, and I often tell Riley how lucky she is, especially when I see or hear about a dog that's abused or ignored. I hug her and cry in her coat because she's so lucky.

But I am also lucky. In addition to being smart, loving, communicative, protective but also friendly, silly, well-behaved, and happy, she is also a dream to walk. I don't understand people that don't walk their dogs, but today I can understand their reluctance if they don't have a dog like mine. (That's all the tolerance you get. Now go walk your dogs.)

On to Part 2: children. You know I never wanted kids, but I put my whole heart into raising Ant. When I got pregnant, I was suddenly in love. I would have been a great parent to the kid who wasn't mine as well as the kid who was never to be, but neither of those was for the long term, and I don't get to know why. I'm hoping that I'll get another chance someday, because I think I'd be pretty good at it.

But for right now (as you pointed out to me, 10), I have the space, the freedom, and the quiet time to watch movies. I watch exactly what I feel like watching. I can stop it when I want to go to bed. I can watch it with subtitles, and nobody's annoyed. And that's just movies. I read, I sew, I do puzzles, I talk to myself, I eat bizarre meals, I clean when the urge strikes, I browse stores all Saturday afternoon, I take naps whenever I'm tired. I'm grieving the chaos and the responsibility of a house and a family, but I'm here in a quiet, beautiful place of solace and freedom.

Jody came over for dinner tonight. She brought her almost two-year-old son, her two dogs, and a pizza. I did a child proofing sweep before they showed up- ha. Brand new blinds they put in today, and he's pulling on them. I have two chairs and he climbed into the fabric covered one to eat pizza. There are pizza handprints all over the table, the doorknob, the ottoman, my book, the blinds, and the sliding glass door. There is a grease stain on the chair. Her dog, Lucy, despite having a recent encounter that ended similarly, tried interacting too closely with Solo, who popped her in the nose so deep that it took Jody several minutes and paper towels to stop the bleeding while I cleaned the blood out of the carpet and Jody's son happily explored my cabinets. I see now that those cupboard locks are not to keep darling baby from eating rat poison, but to keep him from putting his mouth all over your cookware. That was my determination, anyway, as I watched him drink out of an empty measuring cup. Imagine my confounded expression.

"Ready to walk?" I asked Jody.

See, that's the less romantic side of parenting. And it's not as if I don't understand that that's more often the reality than not- I got to experience some parental juggling, just not with a two-year-old.  And letting a two-year-old run free seems to be more about exhaustion and surrender than an intentional violation of someone else's home. But I'll come back to that.

I offered to walk Snoopy, since I'd only be walking Riley the cloud dog. Snoopy is a herding dog, bred for long days of work. She is the best off-leash dog I have ever seen, but this dog cannot walk next to you- she must run circles around you. Leashes are not her thing. I have known these two dogs their whole lives, and as diligent a walker as Jody is, Snoopy is just an asshole to walk. All she does is pull.

I tried many things: using the Cesar loop, touching her side, making noises, short tugs on the leash, making her follow Riley, switching sides, making them walk together. Finally, I had Jody walk ahead and kept Snoopy at her heels. If I had to walk a dog like this every day, I would go insane. I would buy a bike to run her with, I would take her to off-leash parks daily, I would learn to roller blade- anything to drain that energy and then train her to heel.

It was exhausting and aggravating and I don't know how Jody does it every day. But we came back from that walk and I had to look to see if Riley was still there, as all my attention had been on Snoopy. She was right there, of course. I felt this surge of love for her.

"You are such a good girl," I told her.

Now, Snoopy loves me, and I love her. When we got back to my apartment, she sat next to me and cuddled me, leaned her head against me. I cuddled her back, kissed her head, and talked to her. There was such a difference between this dog and the one I just walked. What a love.

But let me walk you to the car.

This is not a complaint. I will clean up the pizza handprints. The blinds are intact. Walking Snoopy on a leash sucks, but that gave Jody a break, because Lucy is good on walks- so good that Jody was able to let her son hold the leash.

My (long-winded) point is that for one evening, my peaceful paradise was stirred. Feathers were ruffled a little, but it was only temporary, and up until now, I had no idea how much I was enjoying my peace. My friends like Jody: I envy their chaos, their companionships, the feeling of being needed; they envy my quiet, my peace, and my freedom. We can't trade for an equal balance, and maybe someday I'll look back at this time and feel wistful, but tonight- right now- I feel grateful for what I have.

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Cat Law

Cat Law states that if you move something from its usual spot, like the water bowl, the cat will sit in the empty space.

They're replacing the blinds today, so I have to shut the animals in the walk-in closet. Solo already knows what's up-clear her tail has been a little puffy this morning. She will fight me when I try to put her in there. Riley thinks we're moving again.

I hit the store on Tuesday and bought a new bag of cat food. As I put it on the shelf, I wondered if Riley could get to it.

"Nah..."

Yeah. She pulled it down, chewed it open, and chowed down. How much cat food did she eat? She stopped on her own accord, that's how much. I came home to find a noticeably wider dog. She looked like a small, furry ottoman. Three big poops and no dinner later, she started looking like a dog again, but left a runny present in the living room for me last night. Yes, there are people coming into my apartment today and it smells strongly of dog shit. I am working on fume extraction, but I also need to go to work. Sigh.

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