I Still Can't Believe It

...you get gifted the last batch of homegrown tomatoes? More specifically, Illinois award-winning tomatoes? I'll be making guacamole, salsa and hopefully a batch of tomato sauce I can share with my grandparents. Thanks Paul & Sally! ...you score a goal from just shy of midfield? I even managed a short bit of what's known as dribbling - a concept I just can't perform very well. But I keep trying and when it goes right, it's oh so gratifying. ...the Corn Dog lays her super soft head on your lap? Or when you just look her way and she wags her tail? She loves me, in spite of all of my shortcomings as a dog owner. We're a package deal: Two Chubby Beasts For One Low Price! ...you think the water heater has gone tits up only to find a simple push of the little red reset button fixes all? That lukewarm shower was nerve-wracking - how long since the last heating of the water? how much longer before it's straight up cold? how much will a new water heater cos

But I forgot to wear deodorant. It's small victories I have to applaud anymore. Things like "I remembered to brush my teeth" are celebrated with solo high fives. It's kinda awkward, but it's something you get used to. There's this thing that Corn Dog does, well more specifically DOESN'T do, that really makes me insane. I'm pretty sure every other dog in existence knows that when you say "Wanna go outside?", you go to the door and the human let's you out. But not CD. Noooooo. That would be too easy. Cassady went to the door in a flash if he needed to go out, but somehow Corn Dog never picked it up. She'll sit there and look at me and put her paws up and whine and when I ask...she goes to her bed. I'm pretty sure she's about to puddle, but she just lays down. Meanwhile, my avoidance maneuvers are still firmly in place as well. I've successfully avoided a number of crucial things that I've really needed to

Tonight, we play for first place. That's correct - the team that went easily nine months without a single win, is playing for first place for the second session in a row. It's shocking, I know, but I'm trying not to think about it too much - don't want to psych myself out. Playing soccer reminds me of my youth and my age simultaneously. As a kid that felt like an outsider from really any of the established social groups (limited as they were in parochial school), soccer was the first time I felt like I fit in with something. I'll never forget being in fourth grade when they finally added a girls' soccer team. I signed up immediately even though I'd never been exposed to much soccer. Who knew there were practices that entailed running up and down steep hills and running around in circles as much as kicking the ball around? We weren't very good then either. Maybe there is a connection....? Nah. But losing wasn't the worst experience to have at

Apparently, I just can't be "light" and witty anymore. It would probably behoove me to try and rediscover that whole part, but everything seems heavy. I am tired of doing nothing and yet, I still don't want to do anything. Boil it all down and I'm straight up scared. I ask myself "What's the worst that could happen?" and usually can't come up with anything good enough to legitimately hold myself back from whatever I'm afraid of at that moment. And still I manage to talk myself out of (or into, depending on the situation) taking action. I'd never thought I'd say this, but I need to make some action items for myself and fucking get something done already. At this time last year, life seemed so promising. This year I'm stuck in a vortex of suck and self-loathing. I miss my dog. I miss intimacy and affection. I miss my paycheck. I miss the excitement of trying new things. I want all of those things back in my life, so why c

It was once suggested to me that when one makes a significant change in their life, it can cause a domino effect and other massive and unintended or unforeseen changes are the result. In last week's visit to my therapist, I went on record with my disdain for the theory and the way my life in the past two years has proven it out. I started seeing this therapist, who I fondly refer to as The Poodle (short for Therapoodle), a few years ago now and the impetus was a pervasive feeling of unhappiness. I didn't want to come home from work but I didn't want to be at work either. When I got home, all of the things I'd wanted to do when I got there would go undone because I just couldn't find the motivation. I was anxious about traveling for work, anxious about wanting to have kids or not, anxious about my future with Surfer Boy. Anxiety and malaise characterized my life and I had that dreaded feeling that my life was slipping away while I sat and watched. In the course

Last week, I had to do the unthinkable. I had to play God. In the aftermath, I'm left with only the hope that I gave Cassady a decent home, a decent amount of love and a decent passing to the Great Big Piney in the sky. Friends assure me that I did, but when it's just me and my thoughts...I have regrets and I wish I could go back and do things differently. When I start to struggle with those regrets, I'll be able to look back on this entry for posterity. Like I told the vet after the deed was done, Cassady taught me a lot. Not because he didn't have any issues either - it was because of his issues (and mine) that I was able to grow and learn so much about life and love. Here's to the good and the bad of a 14-year relationship with a dog. A great, great dog. Random things I don't want to forget about Cassady: I got Cassady from the Animal Protective Agency on Christmas Eve 1994. I'd gone there every day on my Christmas break from school looking for j

Quick math lesson: PMS + Nicotine Withdrawal = Hot Mess I think I'll leave it at that.

I still struggle with what to write here. 2008 verily sucked. Sure there were some moments I'll recall with fondness, but I'm going to have to go with Strongly Disagree if the question is "Would you classify 2008 as a good year?". From one nasty habit to another. I'm trying to quit smoking and I'm not using any medical or OTC aids...yet. But I've taken to sleeping on the couch - the busted out, drooping in the middle monstrosity and it's not doing much for my back health or my emotional well-being. I bought a pretty fancy mattress in September but for some reason, it's just not doing it for me. Part of the reason definitely has to do with how cold my bedroom is but sadly, that's only half the story. The other half is certainly the part where sleeping in it alone is deflating. And Corn Dog just isn't the bastion of warmth and affection I need her to be. I wonder if Cesar Milan could help me train her to be a better co-sleeper. Mayb