Abigail (Tart) Isaacson, Greyhound extraordinaire and perfect pet, left this world at 3:45pm PST.
I will be taking some time off from blogging for a while. To say that this has been a bad week for me is a terrible understatement which has resulted in a malfunction of my humor cortex. I'll be back when enough time has passed that I can be silly again.
Last night my mom came home to find our dog, Abby, collapsed on the hallway floor. She had lost almost all motor function in her hind end. We tried to get her up and moving again, but the poor thing could barely take a step. We put a sling around her belly to help support her hind end, but it was still obvious that she had lost any ability to move her back legs and no amount of assistance was going to change that.
So Mom laid Abby down in her bed in the kitchen and cooked her up some chicken for dinner. The only thing I saw her move again for was the chicken. Otherwise she just lay there breathing heavily, looking everywhere, but lying perfectly still otherwise.
Abby has been getting weaker and weaker for a while now, (collapsing on the driveway, struggling to climb the stairs) but this was first time Mom started seriously considering putting her down. If she doesn't show any improvement today then she will sleep. I hope that in her dreams she is free. She's always been too timid to be truly free.
_______________________________
Adendum 9/26/05
Abby isn't getting any better. I'll be leaving work early to be there for my Mom when the vet comes to put Abby down.
One of my favorite webzines is The Morning News. If I could have a legal union with TMN, I'd be all over it. We could have a modest commitment ceremony, mostly because I doubt my parents would pay for a wedding between their precious eldest daughter and an online publication, but I love you TMN and as long as you keep posting great content by talented writers, I will always love you (provided I can be polyamorous with BoingBoing).
This particular post I thought was just too darn cute. I hope they're saving the male counterpart for Valentine's Day 2006.
Kimi: Boys are stupid.
Me: Girls aren't much better.
Kimi: Humans are stupid.
Me: You're right. You never see animals doing anything idiotic, like blogging about their relationship problems.
Justin: Do you eat ham?
Me: I love ham!
Justin: But you're Jewish! How can you be Jewish and eat ham?!
Me: A lot of Jews don't keep kosher.
Justin: But that's WRONG!
Me: So is premarital sex.
Justin: [nervously glances at Sandra] But that feels good, so that's okay.
Me: Eating ham feels good too.
I'm fairly new to this whole blog thing, my first post was just this past April, and the events of the past week have led me to the conclusion that I need to write a few rules for myself....
1) Thou shalt not blog anything disparaging about work or the people thou work with. Please refer to Dooce for the multitude of reasons why.
2) Thou shalt not blog about a person thou art dating until thou art no longer dating said person (and thou better know for certain that things are really over)
3) Never blog angry. Always wait a week.
I have a feeling this list will grow over time.
My friend Todi had bought me a birthday gift while she was in France and just got around to giving it to me last Tuesday. For those of you who don't know, my birthday is during the first week of August. I happily accepted the gift, because it's kind of nice when your birthday just kind of continues like that, especially when you keep getting presents.
As I ripped away the wrapping paper, I slowly uncovered a calendar featuring a series of black and white shots of naked men in various poses.
Me: Todi, this is gay.
Todi: What?
Me: This is gay. I mean, thank you. I'll never hang this anywhere that anyone can see it, but it really is a nice thought.
Todi: What do you mean it’s gay? Look, here's a picture of a beautiful naked man on a horse!
Me: It’s GAY!
[Todi shows it to her friend]
Todi: Is this gay?
Todi's Friend: Yes.
Todi eventually took it back, against my mild protests and questioning as to the functionality of her gaydar. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but I have my limits.
It's officially over with JDate Guy. I got the break-up via blow-off this week and I can't say I didn't see it coming. When you're establishing whether or not you and the person you are dating are seeing other people and your reasons as to why are as divergent as say... this:
Me: I don't want to see other people. Where am I going to find anything better than this?
Him: I don't have the time to see other people.
You start to wonder just how serious he is about you, and when you don't hear from him for a few days you begin to realize that he's not that serious about you at all.
I just finished my cleansing exercises. Well, more like "Deletion for Completion." I had saved all the e-mails and text messages he had sent me over the past month and a half. I jokingly referred to it as "evidence," but looking back, I'm not really sure what it was evidence of. Everything that had so much meaning a few weeks ago seems pretty devoid of any significance now. Delete. Delete. Delete.
On another note, just to complain, because I can. The break-up via blow-off has got to be the worst way to dump someone. A friend of mine once got dumped via text message, and I found that method far preferable to the blow-off. At least there wasn't days of worry and wondering as to what hell was going on.
The blow-off lacks spine and any kind of respect for the other person. You didn't even care enough to end it properly. Heck, I'm a girl and even I had the balls to call Hollywood and tell him that I didn't want to see him anymore. Why? Because it was the right thing to do.
Rant complete.
___________________________
Adendum 9/23/05:
This was probably the most painful lesson in non-reactionary behavior I have ever had. Apparently he never wanted to break up with me, he was just too bogged down with work to call. I just got an e-mail from him asking why he thought he was breaking up with me, why didn't I call to talk to him about what was going on, and why on earth did I blog about it? [because I'm an insecure nitwit who's dated so many trolls I don't know what descent male behavior even looks like]
Now, unless he's the absolute most forgiving person in the entire world, it really is over and I have no one to blame but myself.
I have two, count them two, friends moving to the European Union before the end of the year. What are the odds and how soon can I afford a $1,000 multi-city round trip ticket to Dublin and Geneva? [scan checkbook] Hmmmm, if I calculate current savings, multiply that by the amount of money I've actually been able to put into my bank account since moving back to LA, and factor in the precise length of time I can hold my breath without suffering serious brain damage...... I would be dead before I finally had enough available cash to buy the plane ticket.
Hope, for as long as I have known her, has made her living as a freelance writer for the LA Zoo and various independent art magazines and a burlesque dancer. I always felt unbelievably square in comparison to her, but now that she's moving to Switzerland to be with the father of her child who is also the sole member of a one-man band, I feel like June Freaking Cleaver! Could my life get anymore painfully normal? Only if I moved to the suburbs and married a lawyer.
Jen, my former roommate and person to blame for the existence of this web site (I prefer the avoidance of responsibility whenever possible), is moving to Dublin to get her Masters in Multi-Media Systems from Trinity College. I am so incredibly proud of her and thankful that a graduate institution with Trinity's stature is finally giving her the opportunity she richly deserves. I look forward to seeing her earn tenure at a progressive university and warping the minds of America's youth on a daily basis.
For now, I will help Jen move the last of her boxes into storage (and maybe have one last dinner at Felix's) tomorrow and keep up with Hope to see when she'll need help packing up her house for the big move. I may not know when I can see them again, but at least I can give some support as they prepare for the next big step in their lives.
I miss you both already.
My pirate name is:
Bloody Mary Vane
Every pirate lives for something different. For some, it's the open sea. For others (the masochists), it's the food. For you, it's definitely the fighting. You tend to blend into the background occaisionally, but that's okay, because it's much easier to sneak up on people and disembowel them that way. Arr!
[pirate name courtesy of Fidius]
Last night Jen hosted her last Geek Out before she leaves for Ireland next week. We didn't really break out the computers, but we had a great time all the same.
I guess I'll just have to save my communal geeking for SXSW 2006.
Me: Let's say you have a blog, and you've been dating a guy that you really like for roughly six weeks. What is the worst thing that could possibly happen?
Jen: He reads your blog.
Me: No. I can say from experience that your significant other reading your blog is not that bad.
Jen: Your coworkers read your blog.
Justin: He finds out about your side gig as a tranny whore and is actually kind of excited about it.
Me: Um, no, but you're right, that would be pretty bad.
Jen: So?
Me: His family, who only has a vague awareness of your existence, finds your blog.
I was staying at a rat hole of a hotel in New York this week because all the good hotels were taken by people in town for Fashion Week, the US Open, and the UN meeting. A trifecta of a global conspiracy against my personal comfort.
From the outside, the hotel looks okay. Good, recently updated aesthetics. A staff that speaks English. My standards really aren't that high, but I have to draw the line somewhere and that line starts at furnishings, goes midway into personal space, and is blown through the roof by poor hygiene.
I arrived in my room and called Kevin to make plans for dinner:
Kevin: Well, how big is this place?
Me: Let's see... I'm starting at the door. One, two. Two steps to get past the bathroom. One, two, three, four. Four steps to cross the actual room.
Kevin: [laughing] I guess that hotel budget just doesn't go as far as it used to.
Jay called to tell me that he made the front desk change his room because some of the furniture was held together with duct tape.
Me: Does your comforter fit your bed?
Jay: Yes. Why?
Me: Mine looks like it was meant for a twin, but they just said 'what the hell' and put it on my queen. It covers the top of the bed and that's about it.
Jay: Do you have any counter space in the bathroom?
Me: No.
Jay: Me neither. I find this very disappointing.
Then I called Jodi after dinner just to catch up.
Jodi: How bad is it?
Me: Jodi, there's mildew on the ceiling.
Jodi: What ever you do, do not use the comforter.
Me: Good point.
since my last confession, and you're probably dying to know what that last post was about. I had good reason; I was busy with work and having a social life (yes, a real social life, not one of those fake ones).
Okay, so here goes. I called JDate Guy after helping a friend of mine clean her house for the realtors coming the next day, for no specific reason, just to say "hi" and chat. We talked for a while about nothing important, but it was still a great conversation because there weren't any awkward pauses or moments of boredom. It was one of those phone calls I rarely have with a significant other that just made me feel good about the chemistry between him and I.
At the end, we were saying our goodbyes and he slipped up with, "Goodnight Sweetie. Uh, I mean Lauren! Goodnight Lauren!" He is now well aware of my hatred of pet names, but old habits die hard. I took this as an opportunity call him by a few sickeningly sweet terms of endearment, "Goodnight Pookie! Love ya, Pooh Bear!" I stopped myself halfway through that last exclamation, but not before the dreaded words of "Love ya" had already been uttered with misappropriated glee. I then got off the phone as quickly as I could and began to wonder how much time I had left to live.
I hadn't even been dating this guy for a month and I was already dropping the L-word. This was firm ground for a break-up because I had suddenly turned into a clingy psychopath in the span of one sentence. I think it was a new record - from sane to crazy in two words.
I didn't hear from him for a couple days after that, which is normal, JDate Guy gets very busy with work towards the end of the week and it's very rare that I hear from him during that time, but that didn't stop me from wanting to crawl the walls in anticipation waiting to hear if we were actually going to go out on Sunday or if I was going to get the break-up via blow-off. Because I just couldn't stand it anymore, but I couldn't allow myself to call him, I called my friend Kimi and told her what had happened.
Me: I didn't mean it! I swear I didn't mean it!
Kimi: Lauren, you're acting like you called his mother a whore.
Me: I dropped the L-word, Kimi! I can't be dropping the L-word now!
Kimi: [deep sigh] (because I was in a state deserving of a deep sigh) Lauren, you were joking. Of course you didn't mean it, and if he doesn't get that, then you're better off without him.
Me: I know, but it's like I'm trying to sabotage this. I finally met a guy who doesn't act like he's scared of me and I can't help but push it to see how much he can take before he actually does start to freak out on me.
Kimi: You're good like that.
Me: [deep sigh]
JDate Guy ended up calling me a few hours later, not to break-up with me, but to make plans for getting together the next day. He acted like nothing had happened and everything was normal, much to my infinite relief.
He still calls me "Sweetie" sometimes, but I'm getting used to it. That happens when you've suddenly lost the nerve to fight back. My spinal reconstruction is currently a work in progress.
