goo goo dolls :: casino ballroom, hampton beach, nh :: april 14, 2010
The beautiful thing about blogging is that, no matter what you write, you can reach people.
The shitty thing about blogging is that, no matter what you write, you can reach people.
Unless you specifically call someone out and say, “X, you blah blah blah turnip an octopus”, everyone will think they’re “X”. Shit, everyone will think they’re “X” anyway, like “X” is a code name for them. Even if they’ve never turniped an octopus. Having the entire world think they were “X” never bothered me before. I used to be brave. Fearless. Stupid. Reckless. Back in those days, blogging was awesome. I felt like I was doing some of my best writing.
Whatever it was - good, bad, ugly, riot inducing - it was real.
Now, I’m tiptoeing around. I’m afraid to say what’s on my mind because I know someone will take it wrong.
I don’t know when I started to care, but it’s gotten old.
There was a blog entry I wanted to post, badly. I needed the closure that putting it out for the world to see would give me. (Nothing’s real unless it’s on teh intarweb, right?) But, I can’t. Too many people would think it’s about them. Some of them would be right… and I don’t need that level of drama.
I’m not working nearly as much as I had been and I’ve found that the fencing is great mental and physical exercise. I’m spending less time on the computer after work and I don’t find myself missing it nearly as much as I thought I would. All around me, things are changing…I’m
I’m happy with who I am and where I am right now.
I’m - dare I say it? - enjoying my life.
I’ve been bouncing around for the last two weeks after I realized that I can do s00per d00per wicked FUN things this weekend. Tomorrow, I’m off to Albany to hang out with Annie, Bear, Bill, Chris, and Orion (aka Black Mountain Symphony). Saturday, I’m CT bound- I’ll spend the day lounging around and visiting some of my favorite haunts before heading into the Insurance Capital of the World to hang out with Soup and Skinny.
Two days, two of my favorite bands, and a whole lotta highway.
I couldn’t ask for anything more.
apache :: da brook :: october 2008
The husband just said this to Apache:
“You are our number one, behind our number one. Which makes you number two, and that’s why we call you The Poo.”
Truer words were never spoken.
charlie :: da ‘brook :: june 5, 2010
...and so, the hiccuping uterus has STFU.
J and I went to the Cocheco Valley Humane Society today to “look”. I’ve wanted a baby for a while, and as I discovered, death makes me want a new baby. (In order: some rabbits when mom died, Apache after dad died and now Charlie. Charlie is named after her grandfather, of course.) As soon as J said we’d look, I knew we were coming home with a cat.
We almost came home with Dino, a 4 year old tabby who has lived with dogs. The only problem was Dino was a “house soiler”. I guess after his owners had a baby, Dino decided to stop using the litter box. We’ve already had a cat that didn’t like to use the box. Pumpkin was scraped, given antibiotics, anti-depressants, and even Rescue Remedy. Nothing worked. I really didn’t want to go through that with another cat. Cat pee STINKS worse than dog pee. So, we gave up on Dino, even though I was finally warming to the idea that not all older cats are damaged goods. (Should have talked to the shelter volunteer first!)
It came down to three kittens - Spidey, Chase and Tootsie. Chase and Spidey didn’t like me very much, but Tootsie seemed to like both of us, so Tootsie it was. Of course, the name was the first to go. I couldn’t do Tootsie. It would have driven me nuts. After a lot of trial and error (dude, I totally would have named the cat “Bruce”, but J said it wasn’t right for a girl.), we came up with Charlie.
I know, most of my friends will be all “Charlie the Unicorn!”, and while that’s not why I chose the name, I have found myself saying “chaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrlllllllllliiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee” a lot.
Adding a third furry member of the family was not something as spur of the moment as it probably looks… I knew Arsey would do well with the kitten. Arsey LOVES all other animals. (As long as they’re not near her food.) Apache, on the other hand, takes some time to get warmed up to new people, so I knew it wouldn’t be that easy with a kitten. We’re a little further on the first day than I thought I’d be, but we’re far from being a happy family. All things in time. Introducing him to Arsey wasn’t all that easy either.
Welcome to our world, Charlie. I do think you’ll like it here.