21 posts tagged “love”

I will pay you cash money to quit that internship.  (and no 14+ hour days!)

I love you. come home safely.

PS we need dishsoap.  is it supposed to be that color? khaki?

See you tonight.

mwah.

me

we got a wii.  i created my mii.  it's named 'piij'.

my dad feels lonely because i'm not posting enough. the truth is, daddy, i'm happy.  I like to swear too much to make a post of just-fine.  maybe something will piss me off, maybe tomorrow?

Sweet crashtast is back on facebook. yay.  as we speak she's commenting on all my pix.  i wish she was closer, i think we'd have good times.  I'd give her my sephora smokey eye pack.  I just don't use it.

I drank a (gin) martini with my dad.. remote.  we're good like that

got to dance this weekend... top notch.

i'm spoiled. 

In 13 minutes it will be my 32nd birthday.  If you had told me 10, or  5, or probably even 3 years ago that I'd be 32, living in Nashville with a FANTASTIC guy, training for half marathons and being vegan, I wouldn't have believed it.  As far as I knew, life stopped at 29. 

I can't believe I'm this girl.  What did I ever do to deserve the kind of awesome I get to wake up to every day? I talk to all my parents and associated parent counterparts, and they all love me.  My sister and brothers return my calls.  My boyfriend's parents seem to like me, for no reason i guess other than i sort of treat my man right.  My cat is uberfantastic.  My friends are amazing, and are constantly reminding me how many good, good people there are on this planet.  They give me hope.  I really love the work I do.  I can dance, I can sing. I find joy in silly things... which may be silly, but it is first and foremost, joyful.  I have great running shoes. I can do more today than I could last year, or in my 29th year, or possibly any year I've been alive.  I have nothing but high hopes for the future.

I mean.. i know I've gone thru some drama this year.. but.. really, right now, i wouldn't trade who I am and what I've got for anything.

I wouldn't be anyone else today. 

yay me, happy birthday me.

My daddy told me today that the family came together to say goodbye to our beloved Pugsley, aka, Pugs, aka Pugser-wugser-nugser-bugser-mugser.  Since everyone's divorced and run off to college and spread to the four corners of the earth, this is not an easy feat; I wish that I could have been there with Pugs, daddy, grandma, my sister, and my ex-and-yet-forever stepmom, saying goodbye to our little pug.  Who was not actually little.  Nor a pug.

Pugsley was a pitbull-shepherd-mix (or something).  She came to us ...gosh.. I would have had to be in late high school or early college... Pugsley was a recovering rescue dog;  as I hear it, she was found tied to a park bench in the park, left for dead;  someone had clipped her ears and tried to fight her, but Pugs was smaller than a real pitbull and probably not as strong. She didn't have a violent bone in her body, and she lost that fight.  My parents took her home and she made herself a member of our family.  I don't know who came up with the name 'Pugsley', but it suited her.  There was no question, 'Pugsley' was her name.

Pugsley was not especially attractive.  She probably wasn't destined for great beauty, anyway.. a little goofy and bony in the face, the fierce-ish crossbite of the pitbull and sort of a taut yet wiggly roly-poly body.  Then someone clipped off her ears -badly- and left her looking kind of menacing.  But she had tenderness, depth and soul behind her eyes and the softest fur, and she had a lifelong habit of wiggling herself into tiny spaces in arms, laps, and legs in order to be close to her people.

You could leave a room and enter it again two minutes later, and her tail would thump in welcome.  Any homecoming was a celebration for the wiggly Pugser.... 2 hours, 2 days, 2 years.. Even when you were crawling through the doggy door in the dark at 2 AM because you forgot your keys, you could count on her to lick your face and wiggle her bottom in sheer joy.

She was a champion ball and cat chaser... and catcher.  Incidentally, only one cat has ever survived an altercation with the jaws of the JabberPugsley, and that's my sweet baby kitty Jonas.  (i cannot speak for his peace of mind or anything that haunts him in his dreams, however).

As she aged, she grew grey, knobby and arthritic.  It took her longer to bounce up and wiggle a happy hello, and she didn't catch anything anymore, but she loved nestling into the bean bag chair with her family, or nuzzling them awake in the morning.  She was still soft.  Her tail still thumped.  She still wiggled into waiting laps and open arms.

After so many years of making us smile and snuggle, my family said goodbye to our Pugser-wugser-nugser-bugser-mugser this month.  Dad said she was happy and wiggling, and loving the attention as she was showered with love, hugs, kisses, tears, memories, and many many thanks for being such a sweet, unforgettable part of our family.

Good girl Pugs!! Who's a good girl!!?!

ShmooPug

(that's not me, that's my baby sister and our beautiful Pugsley)

so.

i didn't go dancing, because it was an hour+ trip each way, and 1.5 hours of dancing.  it simply couldnt' have been worth the travel.  and possibly being mugged or having my kidneys stolen or being sold into sexual slavery or whatever other things i've heard about DC.  So, feeling like something other than apples for dinner tonight, and feeling like I wanted a drink but didn't want to drive and didn't want to take a cab only to go drink by myself looking like some wretched cougar at the TGI Fridays, I stayed here at the 'sierra suites bistro'.

bistro: serves small, unvegan food, and no liquor.  and some wine.

the wine was pretty good, i had a few glasses. i had some hummus and pita. 

in short, i'm hungry, tired, and buzzing on entirely the wrong kind of liquor. 

the company was good however, Obama was on TV and my friend Brian was keeping me company via text message.  Shawn has strep and Abby is.. doing whatever abby does... and C, lovely, blessed, wonderful C is hard at work at his internship, bleeding, sweating and tearing over someone elses art. or at least their floors.  Hopefully, their art.  And not their windows. but bleeding sweating and tearing over something, because he's a passionate motherfucker.

how did i get -so- lucky? i won the boyfriend lotto.

i love you honey. all my air supply are belong to you. all my chicago. all my brian adams, all my Journey.  all my richard marx.. are belong to you.

onward: cable tv.

Only.. every clock i've looked at recently is trying to convince me it's really 4:53.  From my laptop, to the alarm in my hotel room, to the workstations in this class i'm taking here in DC.  and it figures, because time is where your heart is.

My heart is at home! With my man and my kitty!  I didn't even get to talk to my man today, due to the catastrophic incompatibility of his schedule and my schedule, and the overwhelming selfishness of the companies we both work for (labors of love and [sometimes] money).  I hope the next 10 hours bring him much excitement, comfortable shoes, easy parking, and no faulty plumbing.

tonight i'm going dancing.  there's going to be train travel and wandering the streets of DC, and trying to get home before the metro stops running.  there's rain.  hopefully there will be swingouts.

i wonder if there will be dinner.

still no meat, no dairy. i'm converted.

So said when I was bothering the cat during his 'quiet time' with my boyfriend. 

(while he's training him to have a 'space and time' where he's not attacking him)   <-- had to get that right..

1) I have allergies: The singulair stopped working around thanksgiving (due to rain? humidity? hmmmm....?) I was only mostly miserable, but I made a doc's appt to preempt the real deal. She saw me yesterday, looked concerned, gave me a new script for Advair*, and sent me for a breathing test which i passed with amazing! flying! colors. Next step: Asthma tests. I don't know how they work but they sound wretched.

2) I have other, different allergies: Every year, a couple times a year, my body revolts and gives me sinus drama. This can go anywhere from no big deal sinus pressure to allergic hay-fever drama or a Full Fledged Respiratory Infection with Fever and General Wanting to Die** drama. Last night was a festival of sinus pain so i took some Tylenol multi symptom cough syrup (nighttime variety) and prayed for death. Shit knocked me on my ass. I could barely lift a glass of water, let alone heavy machinery.

3) I have been invited to Hot Yoga on Saturday. Normally I wouldn't be caught dead hot-yogaing, but to be invited anywhere was just too good to pass up!

4) Ali and I hung out Tuesday. We are the blind leading the blind when it comes to finding an open bar. I vote for another meetup, at a bar. with drinks.

5) They weighed me at the doc's office. 'Nuff said.

6) I'm tossing around grad school (MBA) again. I should spend less time tossing and more time doing but you will agree that's a big undertaking. And a lot of little pieces have to come together in such a way to make it feasible. The first one being: will my boss let me leave early some days? If not, there is no point tossing at all. And I'm afraid to ask him, mostly because I think he'll say 'no' and doom me to this job, or a hundred other, boring jobs just like it. forever. until i die.

7) There's a dance saturday. In Cookeville. Will I drive 3 hours round-trip just to shake my ass? Yep. (allergies permitting)

I know a few of you are thinking that tennessee is kicking my ass, what with the not-dancing, the boring job, the eating of chicken wings, and the allergies from hell... If i had nothing going for me otherwise, maybe. But I didn't come here for any of those things, or hoping to maintain the perceived greatness of my life in California. I came to hang out with the best boyfriend ever. and it's worth it, absolutely. It's making me a better person. One day when schoolchildren are gathered around me asking about my travels and the awesomeness of me, remarking on my california fabulousness, i'll toss my head and say:

"california? Oh honey, you shoulda seen me in Tennessee!"

*That's right i'm officially on steroids. Next I plan on hitting me some home runs.

** Winter 1997. Codeine=Teh Awesome

Why, at 31 years old, am i still finding myself forced to explain and defend the tenets of a religion i don't even practice? I grew up thinking, more or less, that there's a point to things and some super deity is out there looking out for me and will help me out when I'm in trouble. That when I die, there will be some sort of afterlife involving people i love and general peace and soft lighting. Your very basic, average happy-go-lucky Christianity. When pressed, I might admit that there probably was a Jesus Christ, and he was probably a pretty decent guy. Savior? Resurrected? ehhhh. I dunno. But even if he wasn't, the content is good. I am all for healing the sick and loving my neighbor! Those are some good ideas. Worth standing up for.

This is a hard spot to be in.

The hard-core Christians have it in for you b/c you won't commit. Was there a Garden of Eden or wasn't there? Did God create people from mud and ribs, or didn't He? (and He is a 'He'). Loaves? Fishes? Will you tithe? Will you convert 10 friends? Would you be cast out for your beliefs? Would you DIE for your beliefs? Everything you own, everything you ARE, is a mark of your beast, and you are going straight to fucking hell. They recite things about being lukewarm and distasteful in the mouth of Our Lord. There are verses in the bible for just this occasion.

Uhh. ok... The skeptic in me wants to POUND this guy. When was the last thing you read anything in print that was ENTIRELY true? Is it just because it's ancient? You ever read Virgil? What's your position on dinosaurs and babies conceived in incest? How do you feel about genocide and religious conquest? Why do you have to be such a nasty bitch? I'm your neighbor, asshole. Love me.

On the other hand, even though you've got all the combative skeptic tricks up your sleeve, you can't party with the athiests either. They will give you shit for any shred of Judeo-Christian ethic. They'll call you a sheep. They'll make jokes about how well-read you aren't. They'll direct you to books and websites so that you can remedy your current, foolish condition and come up to speed enough to play with the big kids.

What the fuck, mate? Why is what I believe and how i practice it any of your business? I'm not torching your storefronts or burning your witches. Does the fact that I was 'conditioned' to find comfort in something bigger than myself make it any less comforting? Am I therefore less functional? Is it a crime to have a support system that doesn't involve mind-altering substances and self-help tapes? Is my faith holding me back from the supreme evolutionary leap that you seem to have made? If that's the case then, I'll stay right where i am. Dickhead. You know what? There IS a God. Because man didn't invent love and kittens and (the raw components of) chocolate. And what if I say there isn't a God, what do I win? Hanging out with YOU? Even without Eternal Damnation, I'm not sure it's worth it. Do the fucking MATH.

The upshot of all this is: I don't suck. I don't care what you do on what holidays with what or whom, as long as you're not torturing or killing anyone. As a human unlike any other, I think certain things make sense and certain things don't. Sorry. that's just how I was built/groomed/conditioned/evolved/sprung fully formed from the head of Zeus. If you're nice enough, and we have enough important and unimportant things in common, I think you and I can probably hang out sometimes. I expect we are going to disagree at some point, and I hope that both of us are sensible enough to avoid throwing rocks or bullets at each other. Or in fact at anyone.

If you're one of those people who just wants to argue, blame, and judge; go find a Christian/Athiest to entertain you. I'm busy with hope and tolerance, trying my hardest to be a better human, and good books of all denominations.

Today the bf and I are driving to memphis for BBQ.  I've been looking forward to this trip for weeks.

Try to carry on without me.. oh. try.. do try!

:)k