Leaving Hope
I'm drunk right now. But 10 days, 25 minutes and 38 seconds in, I'm calling it. 2010 sucks. So happy Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day. Happy Memorial Day and Labor Day and Fourth of July. A joyous 9/11neverforgetGodblessAmerica Day. Happy Thanksgiving and Hanukkah, Merry fucking Christmas and a Happy New Year. Now, let's be done with it.
Because I'm sure 2011 it will all be different.
We as people put a lot of emphasize on milestones. On changes and markers and self-created new beginning. New years, new millenniums and new decades. New days and new weeks, new months and moments. And it really is all a load of shit. It's the same as yesterday and the day before. Sure there is change, but we never achieve the drastic upheaval and renewal we say and hope will come. It's 2010 and the only thing different from 2009 is the number. It's the same war and death and disease and misery. We're still killing each other to impress invisible men in the sky, we're still slaughtering animals because we think they taste good, we're still raping the planet cause our Hummers and Escalades are so damn convenient and awesome looking. We still hate and destroy and kill and die and it goes on and fucking on. We make our resolutions and we fall short and leave them behind for dead, like a raccoon caught in the headlights and just not quick enough to save herself...beyond saving but still twitching. But we all know next time will be different and better and we'll round a corner and turn over a new leaf, get to the flip side of that coin and we'll be Good. We'll fix instead of break, save instead of ruin, put aside the pain to help alleviate the agony around us. After all, it is a new beginning. Things will be different.
Because I Can
I'm writing this post using the Wordpress application for iPhone right now. I got a 3GS recently and just can't stop using it for whatever excuse I can find. There is no real reason to be doing so but I can so I am. I've got to say, as skeptical as I was I love this phone. It's like having a little computer with me at all times and as a geek how can I not love that? The apps are awesome (though I am reluctant to actually pay money for any), the interface is slick and overall everything is intuitive and user friendly. I won't be turning into an Apple fanboy anytime soon, but this is easily the coolest toy I've bought in ages.
Doing good
I had orientation at Faithful Friends today, a no kill animal shelter that I will be (or I guess now officially am) volunteering at. I am so happy and psyched to be doing this. I don't feel like I've been doing much to benefit the world right now, and while helping take care of homeless dogs may be a relatively small thing, to me it feels huge and I am so glad that I am doing it. The people I've met so far seem extremely nice and the place overall just had a great vibe and energy. I've been in a bunch of shelters, and some just feel very sad and desperate and this is nothing like that. It made me feel even better about the whole thing. And I got to see Spanky again, an awesome pit/lab mix I met at an adoption event a few weeks ago.
I have another session of dog care specific training/orientation. Those are normally Wednesday evenings, but my work hours don't allow for that, so it will take some schedule adjusting to get that done. Hopefully it will be taken care of in the next week or two though and then I get to start helping. I can't wait!
The pains of being a pack rat
Jesus, what a mess. I've spent the past couple...well, months, really (off and on) gradually working my way through the mountain of paper and debris in the corner of my den. It's amazing how much crap I have saved under the misguided idea that I might one day need it. And I'd say something like 90% of it has vital personal info on it such as address, social security number, account numbers, etc. Almost a decade of loan documents, pay stubs and bills that I never needed to keep. All sitting in various states of organization, with no real purpose.
So now bit by bit, sheet by sheet it goes through the shredder, and slowly the mountain is becoming manageable. And I swear from now on anything I might need documented gets scanned and saved, and then it all goes right in to the burn pile. Because seriously, this sucks.
Tax Time!
Fuck the IRS fuck Federal form 1040 Schedule A fuck taxes fuck all of this convoluted bureaucratic nonsense that is fucking as incomprehensible as it fucking can be cause otherwise it would be fucking illegal...fuck fuck fuckity fuckfuckfuck!
Ok, I'm feeling better now.
Bella thinks she’s a cat.
Our dog is pretty awesome. The other day I was in the kitchen getting ready for work. I walked in to the living room, because I tend to move nonstop from the time I get up until I leave for the day. Restless, every day. Make what you will of that. So anyway, I wander in to the room, and what do I see? This:
Keep in mind, she is a 50+ pound beagle/hound mix, not a lap dog (despite what she thinks). Now this isn't a completely new sight, as when Kelly and I are on the couch, Bella will sometimes get out of control excited and crawl her way up to the back. But this is the first I had seen her do it just for the hell of it, because it's comfy. So I laugh way too much, grab the camera, shoo her off the wrong spot of the chaise lounge and go about my business. A few minutes later I return to the living room. Maybe you can guess where this is going? You guess it, it's going here:
I laugh again, harder, take more pictures, and shoo her down again. And over the past couple days she continues to do this periodically. Yet she won't sleep on the ottoman in the bedroom, because it doesnt have as much room as our bed. Go figure.
Reflectivity, Two Thousand and Eight
Another year is drawing to a close, and as cliched as it is I feel compelled to somehow reminisce and reflect upon it.
First of all...to any and all who happen to be reading this, happy new year's. I hope your 2008 didn't suck and that your 2009 is even better. I hope dreams come to fruition and goals are attained and all that you are striving for comes to you. Unless it somehow negatively affects me or other people, in which case, that is fucked up and you should hope for better things. Seriously.
As it seems is the norm for me over the past several years, it has been a year of enormous change and upheaval. The two biggest things are starting a new job and buying a house, either one of which would be huge by themselves, but I did both in the same month of the same year. Looking back I wonder if it was the smart choice, but I guess it doesn't matter because it's the choice I made and so far at least, I have survived it.
Owning a house still feels so odd. As of now, it hasn't changed my life really. Other than mortgage being more expensive than rent, it's pretty much the same as the house rental situation I was in a year ago this time. But I feel like I'm holding my breath because I am now responsible for everything alone, and the second something major (or minor for that matter) does fail on me, there is no landlord to call. There is me to fix it if I can and call/pay someone else if I can't. And trust me, I'm pretty sure I can't. So it's all great and good now...but still scary. Our backup funds are limited, and being forced to tap too far and too fast in to them could be disastrous.
On top of all that, it still feels a little weird to have a semi-permanent residence. I have been living what feels like a nomadic life for so long now. I moved out of my parents' house eight years ago, and this is the seventh domicile I have lived in since then. I am accustomed to moving nearly every year, and I don't think it has fully sunk in that this is where I am going to be for an extended period of time.
The job change was even bigger though, at least to me. I had been working remotely for my old company in Chicago since I moved to Delaware. In a lot of ways, quitting there felt like severing my last personal ties to a city that I really had loved living in. Sure, I was miserable much of my time there, and the winters were pure inner circles of Hell on Earth, but all the same I loved so much about being there. The people I met, the places to go, the culture and all the things to do and sights to see, I loved it. I have tried to keep those connections, to maintain those friendships that were so important to me for so long (with varying degrees of success), but it's hard and I feel it's a losing battle sometimes. I think a lot about my friends from Chicago, people like Chris, Rob, Dave F., Rebecca, Sandra, Gisela, Jason, Roy, Joe G., Freddy, Susan, Rich and Sush...I miss them all tons and have not seen any of them in far too long. It sucks and I hate it, but that is life I suppose...one more aspect of life to despise.
So here we are, 22 hours, some odd minutes, and counting until an arbitrary marker, a milestone that really means nothing at all except what we make of it, and still I am nostalgic. And I really do not know if it is legitimate or because it's been impressed upon me for years that I should reminisce and look back upon 12 months of strife and love and pain and joy...but either way here I am. Nothing to gain but remembrance. Nostalgia. Looking back, reflective.
Linus
December 10, 2005
That is a date that will always have a special, terrible significance to me. And here it is again, three years later. December 10 is the day that always will be the day I signed Linus' life over to Chicago Animal Control after two months trying to save him. He died then, either that night or on the 11th. I don't know and I never will, just like everything else about that incident. He bit the dog walker. Why? I don't know. No one does, except maybe her. I know that I tried so hard to stop the inevitable, and it wasn't enough.
Incident...makes it sound like some sort of misunderstanding. A scuffle between friends that was later made up over whiskey and tears and reminiscence.
I still remember the horrible small things. The coppery smell of blood in the apartment the day it happened. I remember sitting with him that night, in tears, saying "don't you know what this means? they're going to try to kill you now," and praying to any god who I thought would listen that I was wrong. I remember how happy he was to be going on a car ride that night he was taken in to city Animal Control, and once we got there, the frightened way he kept looking back as they lead him away when he was surrendered for "quarantine".
And most of all when it was all lost, I remember that drive down to animal control, alone and feeling it more alone than I ever have or will. The lingering thoughts that somehow, the inevitable could be avoided, that I could save him. Even to the point of absurd fantasies of movie hero theatrics, slaughtering cops and those who had lied to me about what his fate would be in a righteous violent fury, shattered glass and bullet casings in slow motion, saving the one thing I had in my life who at that time loved me and trusted me completely, that I had failed to save. He loved me, and he trusted me, and I failed him.
There was no gunfire though, no swirling trench coat as the bad guys fell before me. There was the dry scratch of ballpoint on a release paper and a brief moment to say goodbye. But even that didn't matter, not anymore because he didn't recognize me, and if he did it didn't matter. After two months locked non-stop in a cage, he was dead inside, had given up all hope. If he recognized me, it was with nothing but pain, because I am the one that turned him over to Them. Who subjected him to the living Hell that was about to end finally, mercifully. Then it was a drive home through the snowstorm to drown in a flood of tears, alcohol and regret. And god I hate how self-pitying this all sounds, wallowing in my own sadness, because fuck it at least I am still alive. He didn't get that luxury.
It's been so long now, and I still dwell. I don't know why. I don't know what the point is other than remembrance. But I loved him, and at a time that I felt very alone, he loved me unconditionally. No matter what, he was always so happy to see me, and I knew that I mattered to him. And he mattered so much to me, and I miss him still. So fucking much. Beating myself up for it does no good, and I can't bring him back or change how things played out. But I would give just about anything and everything I have to do just that.
I miss you still, Linus. I loved you and do love you, and I hope that you are somewhere that it doesn't hurt anymore. And I am so sorry, still. I will always be sorry, and I will always love you.
Recent Posts
- Leaving Hope
- Because I Can
- Stephen Colbert, Accidental Hacker
- Doing good
- You know who needs to be punched in the face?
- The pains of being a pack rat
- Justify your rage
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