It is late, although it's early for him. It's 2:10am pacific time / 5:10am eastern, and my husband has surmised the last 60 hours in a two line text. We're both struggling to understand just what the fuck happened. My bones feel the torment 3,000 miles away. And you're paralyzed into staying put, but your mind concocts any way to right a situation that has gone horribly wrong. Sometimes the best laid plans... right?
The reason for my Lady Vacation with puppy was because Travis agreed to road trip to the south, with a presented goal of doing comedy. It would be his first real chance to wet his tastebuds being a comic who performs outside Los Angeles. Do the whole bit. It wouldn't be the same as being a true "road comic," who are on the road more than they are off. But dude, test the waters. The plan seemed solid. Have the clubs set him up with a room; see the local sights; get to experience the feeling of making a little money. Los Angeles knows it doesn't have to pay people to perform. But it's that entertainer's desire to be on stage, lured by a dangly green carrot, which drives them to the brink of such propositions.
Every comedian is mad in some way, pushing to get their fix in laughter. We shouldn't trust them to make proper plans. Not all of them anyway, which is why they get a manager. Someone has to be the suit AND deal with your obsessive, your manic, your recluse, your perfectionist, your addict, your depressive, your over achiever, your impressor, your fake, your hustler, and the minority of your mostly stable comic. Only one of these is capable of wearing a pair of creative and business pants. I'm married to him. But even he needs help at times; we all do.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Sunday, June 22, 2014
La historia de dos Hermanos
Leroy, the Puppy Boy, has been with us almost a year; July 4th to be exact (read about his April birthday.) We are so, extremely lucky and overjoyed at how wonderful a boy he is and how brilliantly he enhances our lives. My brain can't process how 55 weeks ago, he wasn't in our faces. Running up to say hi when we get home; Tough-guy prancing around; seeing his cute little underbite; Always on the lookout for that pesky squirrel. And simply being our sweet boy...
His adoption situation was a wonderful, unique experience coming from the Glendale Humane Socieity. It was all about family and building a strong connection, rather than getting these buddies out the door. I really appreciate that modern take, because we're now friends with the shelter staff, trainers and other puppy parents! Between the crew and social media, we have an open door for continuing the sibling bonding experience most dogs don't get. Seeing them grow and following their entire lives is now totally possible and totally necessary. It's so fucking special!! gah!
A few weeks back, I remembered one of Leroy's siblings, Mr. Bentley Jackson (formerly Dolce) was on Instagram. I have an instagram account but figured me sending Bentley a photo from my face would be weird. So I created one for Leroy! You should check it out, cuz why the hell not. Sorting through the complexities of the site, oogling how to send a message, realizing you can't send a message - man, all I wanted to do is tell him and his mum - hey, we're here! But through pawseverance, score! We connected and yesterday, about 50 weeks later, two sets of giant, most cuteably squishy ears reunited.
We're so fucking lucky. xo x a million.
His adoption situation was a wonderful, unique experience coming from the Glendale Humane Socieity. It was all about family and building a strong connection, rather than getting these buddies out the door. I really appreciate that modern take, because we're now friends with the shelter staff, trainers and other puppy parents! Between the crew and social media, we have an open door for continuing the sibling bonding experience most dogs don't get. Seeing them grow and following their entire lives is now totally possible and totally necessary. It's so fucking special!! gah!
A few weeks back, I remembered one of Leroy's siblings, Mr. Bentley Jackson (formerly Dolce) was on Instagram. I have an instagram account but figured me sending Bentley a photo from my face would be weird. So I created one for Leroy! You should check it out, cuz why the hell not. Sorting through the complexities of the site, oogling how to send a message, realizing you can't send a message - man, all I wanted to do is tell him and his mum - hey, we're here! But through pawseverance, score! We connected and yesterday, about 50 weeks later, two sets of giant, most cuteably squishy ears reunited.
We're so fucking lucky. xo x a million.
SGT. Leroy Buckles, re-meet Mr. Bentley Jackson
Bentley is the little blonde / Leroy is grey with a white nose
LOOK AT THEM NOW!!
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
We were happy and then we weren't.
Not too long ago, I found out my first (and only) serious boyfriend (before Travis) got married. The emotions I felt weren't planned.
The backstory, September 1995.
I stepped foot onto my high school campus a naive, nervous wreck wondering what friends I would make and whether I would get in a fight. I always had this strange obsession some chick was plotting to jump me and my noodle arms weren't used to physical punching. 9 months later though, I left that June graduation day happy any calls of "freshman scrub" would bounce right off, happy I was fist-fight free, and all the while realizing I discovered some of the best friends that luckily remain with me today. They can-opened my world to a level of friendship I truly needed and exposed my brain to experiences. Throughout the final day, we had been trying to figure out something brilliant to do since summer-time central was happening. We finally got wind of a post-graduating party, which holy shite was gonna our first. ever.
I saw him by way of drunk-on-Boones Strawberry Hill hazey eyes, playing bass at the party. I don't remember whose idea it was to buy Boones, but I guess if your first teenage introduction to alcohol is gonna be an easy one, Boones isn't the worst. The wall I teetered on was kind enough to keep me upright, while he and his punk band played in the living room. He had a mohawk, which kept slowly moving around the room, despite his body being so animated. I remember I couldn't focus on his face, but I sternly thought man that guy is fucking cute - I should totally make out with him. But instead, as Boone's is one to do, I went outside, sat in the bed of a truck and made out with another feller.
That non-introduction would be the only encounter for a few years, but he would pop in my thoughts when my mind went reminiscing. We did end up meeting organically though, walking to class one day; I didn't realize at first it was the guy who had stopped my beats. My friend struck up a conversation with his buddy, leaving us to naturally start our own. As the chit chat played out, I realized who it was and left in a giggly mess. From then on, our romance flourished into an awesome, illuminating and bittersweet stretch of time...
The Present:
I don't want to focus on the things we did or the firsts we shared, but rather how someone from so long ago can still strum the emotional chord reserved for their pitch. When that chord has been neatly wrapped in flannel for almost 20 years, I was blindsided by the memories it stirred. And way confused why my heart cared. Really - how is it even possible my first boyfriend could actually be over me...?! Thanks facebook.*
My left hand has always wanted him to be happy. I mean, we were happy and then we weren't. Or at least I wasn't. During the break up, he didn't seem to understand my reasons. But I hope in retrospect it was just a bad case of the young eyes.
My right hand, my dominant hand, secretly wishes there will always be an unfulfilled cell by me leaving him. It's a little twisted but I believe more based in reality than most will admit to. I guess it's the emotional hunger that is appealing. To be desired. Wanted by someone, no? Even if we've removed a person from our lives, doesn't mean we don't imagine them still giving a fancy.
* I only found out through Facebook because one of my high school girlfriends from above, liked his life change update - I am not online friends with him. Although, like many people, used to occasionally look him up. you know, just out of curiosity.
The backstory, September 1995.
I stepped foot onto my high school campus a naive, nervous wreck wondering what friends I would make and whether I would get in a fight. I always had this strange obsession some chick was plotting to jump me and my noodle arms weren't used to physical punching. 9 months later though, I left that June graduation day happy any calls of "freshman scrub" would bounce right off, happy I was fist-fight free, and all the while realizing I discovered some of the best friends that luckily remain with me today. They can-opened my world to a level of friendship I truly needed and exposed my brain to experiences. Throughout the final day, we had been trying to figure out something brilliant to do since summer-time central was happening. We finally got wind of a post-graduating party, which holy shite was gonna our first. ever.
I saw him by way of drunk-on-Boones Strawberry Hill hazey eyes, playing bass at the party. I don't remember whose idea it was to buy Boones, but I guess if your first teenage introduction to alcohol is gonna be an easy one, Boones isn't the worst. The wall I teetered on was kind enough to keep me upright, while he and his punk band played in the living room. He had a mohawk, which kept slowly moving around the room, despite his body being so animated. I remember I couldn't focus on his face, but I sternly thought man that guy is fucking cute - I should totally make out with him. But instead, as Boone's is one to do, I went outside, sat in the bed of a truck and made out with another feller.
That non-introduction would be the only encounter for a few years, but he would pop in my thoughts when my mind went reminiscing. We did end up meeting organically though, walking to class one day; I didn't realize at first it was the guy who had stopped my beats. My friend struck up a conversation with his buddy, leaving us to naturally start our own. As the chit chat played out, I realized who it was and left in a giggly mess. From then on, our romance flourished into an awesome, illuminating and bittersweet stretch of time...
The Present:
I don't want to focus on the things we did or the firsts we shared, but rather how someone from so long ago can still strum the emotional chord reserved for their pitch. When that chord has been neatly wrapped in flannel for almost 20 years, I was blindsided by the memories it stirred. And way confused why my heart cared. Really - how is it even possible my first boyfriend could actually be over me...?! Thanks facebook.*
My left hand has always wanted him to be happy. I mean, we were happy and then we weren't. Or at least I wasn't. During the break up, he didn't seem to understand my reasons. But I hope in retrospect it was just a bad case of the young eyes.
My right hand, my dominant hand, secretly wishes there will always be an unfulfilled cell by me leaving him. It's a little twisted but I believe more based in reality than most will admit to. I guess it's the emotional hunger that is appealing. To be desired. Wanted by someone, no? Even if we've removed a person from our lives, doesn't mean we don't imagine them still giving a fancy.
* I only found out through Facebook because one of my high school girlfriends from above, liked his life change update - I am not online friends with him. Although, like many people, used to occasionally look him up. you know, just out of curiosity.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Because I don't want a girlfriend anymore.
Keeping with the little bits of sentiment lately, many people don't know how Travis proposed one fateful day.
It was just right...
We had conversations early on about marriage, casually over the course of getting to know one another. I was a little taken aback when Travis said with conviction he'd never get married. It wasn't the commitment to someone answer, but rather he didn't need a piece of paper proving yatta, yatta, yatta answer. He also never wanted to get a divorce, so being in a soceity where that is norm, it's a turn off for him - I get it. But I'll admit I was a little disappointed since that seemed to be the next step everyone takes after a few years of dating. Thanks society. But after the initial bluntness of Travis' answer, I spent a fair amount of time realizing that worked for me too. I actually didn't care of the implied importance. Many years went by until that conversation strolled by our informal dinner table again. Our relationship grew deeper and we each knew more about who we were. And more importantly, who we were together.
Somewhere around year 6 of dating, Travis mentioned he wanted to gather the few family items left to him. I didn't think much of it. Bonds from this relative and jewelry from so and so. The one thing that always meant the most to him, was his mamaw's wedding ring (father's mum.) He'd pondered getting it for years but wasn't sure where the ring ended up, at times his mom even thought it had been stolen. Again, I didn't think much of it since Travis was extremely close with his mamaw. He lived with her in Macon, Georgia for a spell, until he and his parents moved to Los Angeles when Travis was five. Each summer, he would go back to visit, until she passed when he was a teenager. Mamaw helped shape his childhood and gave him incredible memories any kid would be proud to have - including tea coffee. I'm bummed I never got to meet her but he wrote about one special memory.
The stigma of marriage silently washed away as the years passed between us. Within those conversations about the mementos, it became easier for us to talk about "what ifs." What if we did get married? Would we have to invite people X? Would it be local or cater to insistences from relatives? We agreed to have a wedding that encapsulated us and our personality, but left it at that. A little unresolved, which didn't help with my spiking think meter. What if he asked me? I mean he won't, but what if? Am I that person to get married to someone who doesn't want to, yet seemed super right if we did? What kind of ring did I want? Nothing new, of course (due to often horrible working conditions.) The dress - oh man, what would I wear? I don't care about it being white - what if I got a vintage red-carpety type gown? Something I'd look spectacular in. Those thoughts came in short spurts of the internal kind, but never making me nuts to think "why hasn't he done it yet?" "If he doesn't, I'm leaving this relationship!" never. It ultimately sounded like a rad idea, but whether we were or were not declared on a piece of paper, our relationship was fantastic and would continue far beyond that decree.
Little did I know, he and his mother found the ring and his planning begun.
On Jan 20, 2010 (year 7), I had gone to work like any other weekday. I wasn't scheduled for a meeting but this chick called and wanted to brainstorm ideas on something important at the time. At this point, me and this chick had been friends, hanging occasionally outside work. But just like the dude from my meeting Travis story, we are no longer friends with her either. I SWEAR it's not us. So I went down to her office for what should have been 30 minutes. Soon in, I realized I forgot my phone. Travis had always asked I keep it with me, in case he had an emergency, especially with his back being so awful. After I realized we'd been talking shop for 90 minutes, I had to go - sensing Travis needed to get hold of me. I went back to my office where three voicemails and boats of text messages awaited me. crap. The texts started off simple enough like where are you, can I stop by. Leading into more urgent pleas, can you call me, I really need to speak to you. The tone in the voicemail was the worst since I could hear something big was up...
It was around 11a or so when I finally got hold of him. He was extremely somber and off, even for a person in chronic pain. He said he was close, needed to speak in person, and would be to my work in about 10 minutes if I could wait downstairs. I secretly panicked. A hundred ideas ran though my head about what it could be... Did something happen to his parents, his brother, was he breaking up with me, or completey opposite and he had been offered an amazing job? At the time, the last option was actually the most likely given his personality, so I wagered on that. Hell, it was better than thinking our relationship was kaput.
It started to drizzle...
I'm outside and I see him walking up. His face is like a stone faced weeping angel and I'm kinda freaking out. I remind myself this is probably the opposite of what's actually happening and I'm about to hear his good piece of news.
It's still drizzling and I have no umbrella... He walks up.
"Brandi, I've been thinking a lot lately and I have no interest in having you as a girlfriend anymore."
Here's exactly what went through my head in a span of NO JOKE, 2 seconds:
"Because (the most genuine, non-cheesy smile) I wan't you to be my wife."
So my heart stopped. What my eyes saw was the most beautiful art deco ring, that was exactly what I had envisioned all those discussions ago. Prior to this moment, I'd never seen the ring, it had never even been described to me. All I knew was his mamaw wore it everyday, even after her husband passed, and she wanted Travis to have it. I stood there staring, in awe of this symoblic gesture and giant honour, entrusted to me in precious metal.
I looked at him and everything that made sense, was looking back. I needed to preserve it for eternity, if only a second. My brain said speak, silly bird. I of course said YES*! I hugged him, I unexpectedly shed happy tears, and I saw a bright future.
After the initial excitement and stares from passers by, we just sorta stared at each other. Giggling. Like what do we do now? Is there something to do? Travis said he'd been with his mom all morning waiting for me to call, so he suggested we visit her nearby work to share the swell news. On the car ride over, my brain was swimming with emotion and I struggled to say something poignant (always say something to be remembered by, hints my noodle.) But all I could form was "We can tell your parents, but I'm not ready to tell anyone else." I know that's a totally weird reaction. It's not because I wasn't over the moon, quite opposite actually. I was just so unprepared for this life changing even to actually be real. I also wasn't a big jewelry person, despite the ring being tops. Plus, I guess I had to use words like engaged and fiance - it was foreign! Saying that felt like marbles in my mouth and I just wanted to be a little more normal first. bizarre. I guess the only highlight was the emotion of being part of a secret club, like people could tell there was something special about me. Maybe that's how people feel when they find out they'll be having a baby.
The rain let up and the clouds parted, signifying our next chapter. Or some junk.
* If you ask Travis, I never made a sound before hugging him. He figured it was positive since I didn't run away, but he asked again and I made sure to say YEEEESSSSSSS. *
It was just right...
We had conversations early on about marriage, casually over the course of getting to know one another. I was a little taken aback when Travis said with conviction he'd never get married. It wasn't the commitment to someone answer, but rather he didn't need a piece of paper proving yatta, yatta, yatta answer. He also never wanted to get a divorce, so being in a soceity where that is norm, it's a turn off for him - I get it. But I'll admit I was a little disappointed since that seemed to be the next step everyone takes after a few years of dating. Thanks society. But after the initial bluntness of Travis' answer, I spent a fair amount of time realizing that worked for me too. I actually didn't care of the implied importance. Many years went by until that conversation strolled by our informal dinner table again. Our relationship grew deeper and we each knew more about who we were. And more importantly, who we were together.
Somewhere around year 6 of dating, Travis mentioned he wanted to gather the few family items left to him. I didn't think much of it. Bonds from this relative and jewelry from so and so. The one thing that always meant the most to him, was his mamaw's wedding ring (father's mum.) He'd pondered getting it for years but wasn't sure where the ring ended up, at times his mom even thought it had been stolen. Again, I didn't think much of it since Travis was extremely close with his mamaw. He lived with her in Macon, Georgia for a spell, until he and his parents moved to Los Angeles when Travis was five. Each summer, he would go back to visit, until she passed when he was a teenager. Mamaw helped shape his childhood and gave him incredible memories any kid would be proud to have - including tea coffee. I'm bummed I never got to meet her but he wrote about one special memory.
The stigma of marriage silently washed away as the years passed between us. Within those conversations about the mementos, it became easier for us to talk about "what ifs." What if we did get married? Would we have to invite people X? Would it be local or cater to insistences from relatives? We agreed to have a wedding that encapsulated us and our personality, but left it at that. A little unresolved, which didn't help with my spiking think meter. What if he asked me? I mean he won't, but what if? Am I that person to get married to someone who doesn't want to, yet seemed super right if we did? What kind of ring did I want? Nothing new, of course (due to often horrible working conditions.) The dress - oh man, what would I wear? I don't care about it being white - what if I got a vintage red-carpety type gown? Something I'd look spectacular in. Those thoughts came in short spurts of the internal kind, but never making me nuts to think "why hasn't he done it yet?" "If he doesn't, I'm leaving this relationship!" never. It ultimately sounded like a rad idea, but whether we were or were not declared on a piece of paper, our relationship was fantastic and would continue far beyond that decree.
Little did I know, he and his mother found the ring and his planning begun.
On Jan 20, 2010 (year 7), I had gone to work like any other weekday. I wasn't scheduled for a meeting but this chick called and wanted to brainstorm ideas on something important at the time. At this point, me and this chick had been friends, hanging occasionally outside work. But just like the dude from my meeting Travis story, we are no longer friends with her either. I SWEAR it's not us. So I went down to her office for what should have been 30 minutes. Soon in, I realized I forgot my phone. Travis had always asked I keep it with me, in case he had an emergency, especially with his back being so awful. After I realized we'd been talking shop for 90 minutes, I had to go - sensing Travis needed to get hold of me. I went back to my office where three voicemails and boats of text messages awaited me. crap. The texts started off simple enough like where are you, can I stop by. Leading into more urgent pleas, can you call me, I really need to speak to you. The tone in the voicemail was the worst since I could hear something big was up...
It was around 11a or so when I finally got hold of him. He was extremely somber and off, even for a person in chronic pain. He said he was close, needed to speak in person, and would be to my work in about 10 minutes if I could wait downstairs. I secretly panicked. A hundred ideas ran though my head about what it could be... Did something happen to his parents, his brother, was he breaking up with me, or completey opposite and he had been offered an amazing job? At the time, the last option was actually the most likely given his personality, so I wagered on that. Hell, it was better than thinking our relationship was kaput.
It started to drizzle...
I'm outside and I see him walking up. His face is like a stone faced weeping angel and I'm kinda freaking out. I remind myself this is probably the opposite of what's actually happening and I'm about to hear his good piece of news.
It's still drizzling and I have no umbrella... He walks up.
"Brandi, I've been thinking a lot lately and I have no interest in having you as a girlfriend anymore."
Here's exactly what went through my head in a span of NO JOKE, 2 seconds:
- I'm sorry, what the fuck did he just say?
- Is he seriously breaking up with me at work? naw...
- Is he about to ask me to marry him? naw...
- What is happening?!?
"Because (the most genuine, non-cheesy smile) I wan't you to be my wife."
So my heart stopped. What my eyes saw was the most beautiful art deco ring, that was exactly what I had envisioned all those discussions ago. Prior to this moment, I'd never seen the ring, it had never even been described to me. All I knew was his mamaw wore it everyday, even after her husband passed, and she wanted Travis to have it. I stood there staring, in awe of this symoblic gesture and giant honour, entrusted to me in precious metal.
I looked at him and everything that made sense, was looking back. I needed to preserve it for eternity, if only a second. My brain said speak, silly bird. I of course said YES*! I hugged him, I unexpectedly shed happy tears, and I saw a bright future.
After the initial excitement and stares from passers by, we just sorta stared at each other. Giggling. Like what do we do now? Is there something to do? Travis said he'd been with his mom all morning waiting for me to call, so he suggested we visit her nearby work to share the swell news. On the car ride over, my brain was swimming with emotion and I struggled to say something poignant (always say something to be remembered by, hints my noodle.) But all I could form was "We can tell your parents, but I'm not ready to tell anyone else." I know that's a totally weird reaction. It's not because I wasn't over the moon, quite opposite actually. I was just so unprepared for this life changing even to actually be real. I also wasn't a big jewelry person, despite the ring being tops. Plus, I guess I had to use words like engaged and fiance - it was foreign! Saying that felt like marbles in my mouth and I just wanted to be a little more normal first. bizarre. I guess the only highlight was the emotion of being part of a secret club, like people could tell there was something special about me. Maybe that's how people feel when they find out they'll be having a baby.
The rain let up and the clouds parted, signifying our next chapter. Or some junk.
* If you ask Travis, I never made a sound before hugging him. He figured it was positive since I didn't run away, but he asked again and I made sure to say YEEEESSSSSSS. *
Monday, May 26, 2014
A joke a day, keeps the divorce away.
Unless you were the other two people there, most of our friends do not know how Travis and I met.
I was working at a previous job when I started chatting with this guy who worked down the hall. We had fun banter, not really flirty because he was awkward and I wasn't sure his deal, but I liked him. We hung out after work, went to shows, and I stayed at his place when my driving privileges were revoked (that's another story for another time.) I've always been a person who has to feel a certain spark/passion/umph in order to date a fella. I don't understand it and I don't fight it. I started feeling he was looking for something more, but I just wasn't into it. In fact, many great guys who would have loved to date me, have been in my life. But I just wasn't into them like that. My go-to defense was the longer I play naive, he'll eventually get the hint. I think it worked...
This guy still invited me to shows, including one in Silver Lake at Spaceland, to see Mondo Generator. It was Dec 2002. I didn't know who they were but it was supposed to be an awesome show and any activity where I could spend less time at my parents house, was perfect. He said we'd be meeting up with some friends of his. cool. As the ticket line sprawled up towards the hip houses, we found his friends Travis and Jaime. I immediately had that umph with Travis when he was sweet and cracked a joke, but my gut told me he and this chick were together, so I set the switch to internal. They were fun - laughing a lot, the band was fine, and we had a swell night.
After the show, we popped by Travis' truck where I had ditched my purse. As I held it, we stood in the ready to part ways circle and said the customary nice to meet yous & goodbyes. I wasn't given the future invitation to "hang out again," so even though I thought Travis was rad, I figured I'd never see him again. When dude and I were walking back to his car, I asked how he knew them. He said Travis and he worked together previously, but did not include Jaime in that reminiscence. He never mentioned whether they were/were not dating so I assumed she was part of the package. I didn't really want to ask either, since I thought that'd be rude. As we walked away I thought eh, I'll meet someone else.
3 months went by until a random course of events brought 3/4 of us together again on Feb 25, 2003. I got tickets to see Queens of the Stone Age at The Grove of Anaheim, giving one to the dude as a thank you for putting up with my lack of driving. I bought them in person at Wherehouse Music, getting lucky with pit wristbands. Travis is a HUGE Queens fan (which I didn't know then.) I guess dude mentioned to him we were going, Travis said - so am I! We agreed to carpool and again I felt {fucking umph, but really can't say anything with both of them there.} We stopped by the merch table, where I bought some QotSA panties (cuz that's all the money I had) and Travis bought a poster. I offered to use my girlish ways to get our wares back to the car for safe-keeping, since most shows - once you're in, you're in. And I wanted to do something nice for Travis by keeping his poster un-ruffled. Travis told me later when I left for the car, he started asking this dude what my deal was. He liked me but wasn't sure if dude liked me too, and whether it would be ok to call me. Dude said ok and Travis did. Which was likely the beginning of the end for that friendship, for numerous unreasonable reasons.
Turns out the night we met, Travis and Jaime had just broken up - like days prior or something. Which makes sense for me thinking they were a couple. I know what it's like to break up but still hang out, so that wasn't odd. And years later, all three of us are friends - and I like that. Also turns out the night we met, Travis thought dude and I were trying to date, so he didn't want to pursue anything then either. We each found out the others' side a few months after that Queens show. We'd been talking and having lunches - often. And that's all it took. The umph I was speaking about was growing. fast. Lengthy conversations with dude turned to brief chats as he was pulling away more and more. I learned later that was kinda his thing, so I stopped sweating it. We haven't spoken to him in many years. fuck him.
Every relationship with a person (friendship or other) has a unique quality that cannot be programmed for the next. And you never really know why two people fall together, but we did. What was it I found so intoxicating? He made me laugh, he listened, and he helped. I'd never even known those were things I was missing! and I'll never go back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anniversaries - it's great to set time where you can gush on your other. But I have a real aversion to these calendar killers. It's a mental block I developed in junior high, that whispers I shouldn't need to make a fuss about this one event, this one day of the year. Birthdays, Anniversaries, Hallmark holidays - it's all the same. Each year I fight the urge to ignore, because not everyone feels the same way I do. I mean it's nice to reflect, yes, but people get SO excited about THIS DAY that it turns me off. And if you're only doing something nice because the calendar rolls around again, some shite has gone wrong. I don't know, maybe I should just enjoy how Travis and I can make these days unique for us. So in as much as I'll allow myself to get sentimental, Travis is tops and the word love doesn't come close.
We eloped May 24, 2010. Afterwards, I told him the day I don't laugh is the day I get a divorce.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here are some of the "we both" reasons:
Here are some of my "he" reasons:
If we ever need to split, the amount of photo evidence indicating we were ever together is so minimal, it could be wiped out in minutes. Not saying that's a good thing, just saying.
You're seeing probably 75% of all the photos we have together. word.
I was working at a previous job when I started chatting with this guy who worked down the hall. We had fun banter, not really flirty because he was awkward and I wasn't sure his deal, but I liked him. We hung out after work, went to shows, and I stayed at his place when my driving privileges were revoked (that's another story for another time.) I've always been a person who has to feel a certain spark/passion/umph in order to date a fella. I don't understand it and I don't fight it. I started feeling he was looking for something more, but I just wasn't into it. In fact, many great guys who would have loved to date me, have been in my life. But I just wasn't into them like that. My go-to defense was the longer I play naive, he'll eventually get the hint. I think it worked...
This guy still invited me to shows, including one in Silver Lake at Spaceland, to see Mondo Generator. It was Dec 2002. I didn't know who they were but it was supposed to be an awesome show and any activity where I could spend less time at my parents house, was perfect. He said we'd be meeting up with some friends of his. cool. As the ticket line sprawled up towards the hip houses, we found his friends Travis and Jaime. I immediately had that umph with Travis when he was sweet and cracked a joke, but my gut told me he and this chick were together, so I set the switch to internal. They were fun - laughing a lot, the band was fine, and we had a swell night.
After the show, we popped by Travis' truck where I had ditched my purse. As I held it, we stood in the ready to part ways circle and said the customary nice to meet yous & goodbyes. I wasn't given the future invitation to "hang out again," so even though I thought Travis was rad, I figured I'd never see him again. When dude and I were walking back to his car, I asked how he knew them. He said Travis and he worked together previously, but did not include Jaime in that reminiscence. He never mentioned whether they were/were not dating so I assumed she was part of the package. I didn't really want to ask either, since I thought that'd be rude. As we walked away I thought eh, I'll meet someone else.
3 months went by until a random course of events brought 3/4 of us together again on Feb 25, 2003. I got tickets to see Queens of the Stone Age at The Grove of Anaheim, giving one to the dude as a thank you for putting up with my lack of driving. I bought them in person at Wherehouse Music, getting lucky with pit wristbands. Travis is a HUGE Queens fan (which I didn't know then.) I guess dude mentioned to him we were going, Travis said - so am I! We agreed to carpool and again I felt {fucking umph, but really can't say anything with both of them there.} We stopped by the merch table, where I bought some QotSA panties (cuz that's all the money I had) and Travis bought a poster. I offered to use my girlish ways to get our wares back to the car for safe-keeping, since most shows - once you're in, you're in. And I wanted to do something nice for Travis by keeping his poster un-ruffled. Travis told me later when I left for the car, he started asking this dude what my deal was. He liked me but wasn't sure if dude liked me too, and whether it would be ok to call me. Dude said ok and Travis did. Which was likely the beginning of the end for that friendship, for numerous unreasonable reasons.
Turns out the night we met, Travis and Jaime had just broken up - like days prior or something. Which makes sense for me thinking they were a couple. I know what it's like to break up but still hang out, so that wasn't odd. And years later, all three of us are friends - and I like that. Also turns out the night we met, Travis thought dude and I were trying to date, so he didn't want to pursue anything then either. We each found out the others' side a few months after that Queens show. We'd been talking and having lunches - often. And that's all it took. The umph I was speaking about was growing. fast. Lengthy conversations with dude turned to brief chats as he was pulling away more and more. I learned later that was kinda his thing, so I stopped sweating it. We haven't spoken to him in many years. fuck him.
Every relationship with a person (friendship or other) has a unique quality that cannot be programmed for the next. And you never really know why two people fall together, but we did. What was it I found so intoxicating? He made me laugh, he listened, and he helped. I'd never even known those were things I was missing! and I'll never go back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anniversaries - it's great to set time where you can gush on your other. But I have a real aversion to these calendar killers. It's a mental block I developed in junior high, that whispers I shouldn't need to make a fuss about this one event, this one day of the year. Birthdays, Anniversaries, Hallmark holidays - it's all the same. Each year I fight the urge to ignore, because not everyone feels the same way I do. I mean it's nice to reflect, yes, but people get SO excited about THIS DAY that it turns me off. And if you're only doing something nice because the calendar rolls around again, some shite has gone wrong. I don't know, maybe I should just enjoy how Travis and I can make these days unique for us. So in as much as I'll allow myself to get sentimental, Travis is tops and the word love doesn't come close.
We eloped May 24, 2010. Afterwards, I told him the day I don't laugh is the day I get a divorce.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here are some of the "we both" reasons:
- unconditional love is bullshite.
- spending time apart is healthy
- tea time is rad
- black shirts are the number one clothing asset
- Leroy, the puppy boy
- God? silly fiction
- The Wire
Here are some of my "he" reasons:
- makes me better
- a million others
If we ever need to split, the amount of photo evidence indicating we were ever together is so minimal, it could be wiped out in minutes. Not saying that's a good thing, just saying.
You're seeing probably 75% of all the photos we have together. word.
Here's the poster I saved from the savage pit beasts.
at a friends wedding
before leaving for our elopement
waiting for our appointment
cheese.
sniff.
at The Bazaar <3
at a thing
my favoritist, ever.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
It hurts more on voicemail.
Not many people knew this, but Leroy the puppy boy wasn't the only canine in my life. A former relationship and I adopted a dog named Tasha over 15 years ago, when she was a super teensy puppy. The county shelter was on a 7 day program and I found out later, it was her last day when that guy and a friend brought her home as a surprise. When that fella and I broke up, we agreed to have joint custody but it soon proved too difficult. With I'm sure insistence from his then new girlfriend, we agreed I would take Tasha full time. She was supremely sweet and always there when I was down. Dogs just sense that sort of stuff.
After I moved out, Tasha stayed with my folks because there was a no dog policy. I could also never deny her roaming a large yard, with plenty of birds to chase. I visited often and it worked. Subsequent apartments were the same policy, no pets, but again with the visiting. And the house Travis and I purchased had a small yard, but Tasha was over 13 years old and starting to have senior lady moments - so it was better she stay in the environment she was used to. Again, I visited her often and it worked.
She had a great life start with that boyfriend, his family and their other dogs, who loved her tremendously. She was the first dog I trained to stay indoors with me and she was the first pup I grew up with as an older kid/adult. It gave me an emotional bond I hadn't felt before and a new respect for co-parenting.
She was an amazing dog and I miss her.
I was at my desk all of Monday morning, multi-tasking phone calls and quick department chats, nothing of importance. Travis and I weren't having lunch like usual because he was with a friend, doing Travissy things. I went home a bit later than usual so Leroy wouldn't be by himself as long, and nothing of importance happened. I was back at work for like 30 minutes when my 2pm meeting reminder with the boss lady popped up. Off I went and nothing of importance happened. I get back to my desk, hoping there was a voicemail from Trav as I was eager to hear about his day. Red light jackpot - VM!
I punched the pass code and it chimed I had 2 unread messages. The first was from Travis, asking I call him back for the scoop. The second, was from my dad, who gulp, never calls. He spent a somber toned minute asking if I would return his call, as there was a passing of a family member (I'm thinking something suddenly happened to his brother or my aunt or any number of relatives I don't know.) I was bringing the receiver towards the base thinking it was almost over and I'd call back to comfort my parents in some capacity, when he casually mentioned "sometimes we just need to do these things." I stopped breathing. Did he just fucking say that? On voicemail? He didn't have to spell it out, I knew exactly what he meant. It was the same thing he said about my other dog Floppee. They unexpectedly put her to sleep and told me after the fact.
I just sat there, thinking about her, but it wasn't real yet. How could they do this to me again. My brain calculated the importance of filtering this information, while keeping externally composed. I wanted to talk with Travis about his day. I knew he and his friend were discussing important things, so on par with most other deaths in my life, I didn't want to think about it. We talked through what happened at his lunch and it was really positive. I was happy for that news; I needed it. Only at the end did I mention the other call. He was immediately comforting, compassionate and wanted me to make sure that's what the news was. I knew, but I said I'd call them back. I felt grey around me, sitting in my office with the door closed, getting ready to dial the inevitable.
My mom answered after more rings than usual so I thought maybe she was outdoors. But when I heard her most common phrase, "let me mute the TV," it was obvious she considered ignoring the call. Again, I knew. I could have hung up the phone and cried. I let there be silence for another few moments as I set the sadness aside and prepared to hear what happened. I also needed time to compose my response.
Her own somber tone rode the invisible waves into my ear while she recounted the events. Tasha had been having trouble getting up, even walking, not eating and a few other things I don't remember now. They called the vet and they could see her that morning and it's all very humane... they take her back... she's in a better place now... Why the fuck are you telling me the technical way this goes down, I know and I don't care. you have nothing else of importance to say was my only rationale.
Silence. I didn't react, didn't yell, didn't curse, didn't cry... nothing. I guess all this executivey training pays off when all you want to do is REACT. But your mind first goes to being the bigger person or you're then part of the problem. I sat in silence while all the emotions came pouring through the grey noodles, down into my heart.
I calmly asked when did she start having problems walking, eating, etc. cuz you haven't been telling me anything other than she's good. She said it's been going on a while. It appeared she was feeling better but on Monday morning was bad.
I'm sitting there in shock trying to process all of the everything that was just dumped on me over the last 10 minutes. I mean we all know this is the sucky part of life, but you never told me any of these problems. Not once. Not after the millionth time of me asking how Tasha was doing, did you say anything. And a week ago Mother's Day, you said nothing. And few days ago you were at Stateline gambling. And even after that you called to tell me don't feed jerky sticks from China to Leroy because they're making dogs sick. and nothing. All I could think about was how long it had been happening, with no consideration of my feelings to even tell me.
Back when Floppee passed I asked them to never do that with Tasha. At least consult me, so I can help weigh in on the decisions regarding my dog. Let ME decide if I want to visit her now or have my memories, but don't make that decision for me. I know they are with her day to day, so I always told them I understood them making the decision if her health is failing. I never want her to suffer either. never. But it doesn't excuse the facts of how the events played out. And especially not on voicemail.
I miss her...
I wrote them an email because I can't hear their voices right now. I re-explained my feelings about this because their lack of understanding & consideration for me has been a long standing issue (which I'll write more about later.) I know that's why this hurts even more. With Travis' suggestion, I waited a few days before sending it. They've called, emailed their original notion of why (I get it already and that was never my problem. But you reiterating to me only solidifies you don't get it.) She even wrote this morning saying eBay was hacked and I needed to change my password. really? this is important right now? {shoulder huff} So I proofread it again and sent along my thoughts. I wasn't harsh or mean or yelly, just stated facts and ended with "Tasha was just another thing I was being hurt with and that's hard and I need some time."
Tasha maybe 3 months old.
Tasha and Bonnie, one of the boyfriends other dogs. Bonnie loved Tasha like her own puppers and Tasha was uber sad when Bonnie passed. She would stare to the backyard where Bonnie liked to hang out, looking for her friend. <3
The boyfriends other dogs (L, T-B)
Bubbles, Bonnie, Tasha, Yai (ใหญ่ means big in Thai)
I took Tasha to get "studio" portraits at a pet store. They were awesome and got the best reactions out of her. I remember her most this way and this photo has been on my desk ever since I went corporate.
Floppee. <3
After I moved out, Tasha stayed with my folks because there was a no dog policy. I could also never deny her roaming a large yard, with plenty of birds to chase. I visited often and it worked. Subsequent apartments were the same policy, no pets, but again with the visiting. And the house Travis and I purchased had a small yard, but Tasha was over 13 years old and starting to have senior lady moments - so it was better she stay in the environment she was used to. Again, I visited her often and it worked.
She had a great life start with that boyfriend, his family and their other dogs, who loved her tremendously. She was the first dog I trained to stay indoors with me and she was the first pup I grew up with as an older kid/adult. It gave me an emotional bond I hadn't felt before and a new respect for co-parenting.
She was an amazing dog and I miss her.
I was at my desk all of Monday morning, multi-tasking phone calls and quick department chats, nothing of importance. Travis and I weren't having lunch like usual because he was with a friend, doing Travissy things. I went home a bit later than usual so Leroy wouldn't be by himself as long, and nothing of importance happened. I was back at work for like 30 minutes when my 2pm meeting reminder with the boss lady popped up. Off I went and nothing of importance happened. I get back to my desk, hoping there was a voicemail from Trav as I was eager to hear about his day. Red light jackpot - VM!
I punched the pass code and it chimed I had 2 unread messages. The first was from Travis, asking I call him back for the scoop. The second, was from my dad, who gulp, never calls. He spent a somber toned minute asking if I would return his call, as there was a passing of a family member (I'm thinking something suddenly happened to his brother or my aunt or any number of relatives I don't know.) I was bringing the receiver towards the base thinking it was almost over and I'd call back to comfort my parents in some capacity, when he casually mentioned "sometimes we just need to do these things." I stopped breathing. Did he just fucking say that? On voicemail? He didn't have to spell it out, I knew exactly what he meant. It was the same thing he said about my other dog Floppee. They unexpectedly put her to sleep and told me after the fact.
I just sat there, thinking about her, but it wasn't real yet. How could they do this to me again. My brain calculated the importance of filtering this information, while keeping externally composed. I wanted to talk with Travis about his day. I knew he and his friend were discussing important things, so on par with most other deaths in my life, I didn't want to think about it. We talked through what happened at his lunch and it was really positive. I was happy for that news; I needed it. Only at the end did I mention the other call. He was immediately comforting, compassionate and wanted me to make sure that's what the news was. I knew, but I said I'd call them back. I felt grey around me, sitting in my office with the door closed, getting ready to dial the inevitable.
My mom answered after more rings than usual so I thought maybe she was outdoors. But when I heard her most common phrase, "let me mute the TV," it was obvious she considered ignoring the call. Again, I knew. I could have hung up the phone and cried. I let there be silence for another few moments as I set the sadness aside and prepared to hear what happened. I also needed time to compose my response.
Her own somber tone rode the invisible waves into my ear while she recounted the events. Tasha had been having trouble getting up, even walking, not eating and a few other things I don't remember now. They called the vet and they could see her that morning and it's all very humane... they take her back... she's in a better place now... Why the fuck are you telling me the technical way this goes down, I know and I don't care. you have nothing else of importance to say was my only rationale.
Silence. I didn't react, didn't yell, didn't curse, didn't cry... nothing. I guess all this executivey training pays off when all you want to do is REACT. But your mind first goes to being the bigger person or you're then part of the problem. I sat in silence while all the emotions came pouring through the grey noodles, down into my heart.
I calmly asked when did she start having problems walking, eating, etc. cuz you haven't been telling me anything other than she's good. She said it's been going on a while. It appeared she was feeling better but on Monday morning was bad.
I'm sitting there in shock trying to process all of the everything that was just dumped on me over the last 10 minutes. I mean we all know this is the sucky part of life, but you never told me any of these problems. Not once. Not after the millionth time of me asking how Tasha was doing, did you say anything. And a week ago Mother's Day, you said nothing. And few days ago you were at Stateline gambling. And even after that you called to tell me don't feed jerky sticks from China to Leroy because they're making dogs sick. and nothing. All I could think about was how long it had been happening, with no consideration of my feelings to even tell me.
Back when Floppee passed I asked them to never do that with Tasha. At least consult me, so I can help weigh in on the decisions regarding my dog. Let ME decide if I want to visit her now or have my memories, but don't make that decision for me. I know they are with her day to day, so I always told them I understood them making the decision if her health is failing. I never want her to suffer either. never. But it doesn't excuse the facts of how the events played out. And especially not on voicemail.
I miss her...
I wrote them an email because I can't hear their voices right now. I re-explained my feelings about this because their lack of understanding & consideration for me has been a long standing issue (which I'll write more about later.) I know that's why this hurts even more. With Travis' suggestion, I waited a few days before sending it. They've called, emailed their original notion of why (I get it already and that was never my problem. But you reiterating to me only solidifies you don't get it.) She even wrote this morning saying eBay was hacked and I needed to change my password. really? this is important right now? {shoulder huff} So I proofread it again and sent along my thoughts. I wasn't harsh or mean or yelly, just stated facts and ended with "Tasha was just another thing I was being hurt with and that's hard and I need some time."
Tasha maybe 3 months old.
Tasha and Bonnie, one of the boyfriends other dogs. Bonnie loved Tasha like her own puppers and Tasha was uber sad when Bonnie passed. She would stare to the backyard where Bonnie liked to hang out, looking for her friend. <3
The boyfriends other dogs (L, T-B)
Bubbles, Bonnie, Tasha, Yai (ใหญ่ means big in Thai)
I took Tasha to get "studio" portraits at a pet store. They were awesome and got the best reactions out of her. I remember her most this way and this photo has been on my desk ever since I went corporate.
Floppee. <3
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Tell You Thursday: Parading Around
In the 80s, my parents and I went to Disneyland at least once a year. Only on Sunday's though, since my dad worked nights and Sunday was the only normal day. It was kinda awesome, Disneyland at that time. There was a balance of 80s charm, day glo and marginal safety restrictions that are since long gone. And my dad had a pretty fierce mustache. You also had the original Captain Eo, the perfectly slow People Mover, and The Submarine Voyage still had affixed mermaids.
They also had parades. I don't know about other kids, but I hated parades. The dancing, the loud music, and jerks never picked me to interact with them. Plus, even though you could hear the commotion, it took at least another 15 minutes to see because of the slow. The ONLY one I ever enjoyed was the Main Street Electrical Parade, because it was brilliantly colorful, had a single, catchy tune that didn't hurt my ears* and it only happened at night. Even if you weren't right up front, a great view could still be had because the fluorescent lights glowed perfectly. Here were my two favourite participants to see: Dopey's Jewel Train and the snails, bees and wormies. But just because I hated waiting on hard concrete, in the sun, for hours in order to get a good seat, doesn't mean my mom did. She loved the parades for reasons I still don't know.
One such occasion, we still had waiting time, so I imagine it must have been around 2:30pm, because they all seem to start around 3. My mom, dad and I waited on Disneyland's main street in order to watch that days' offering. We were on the left side, if you were to look towards Cinderella's castle. I was SO bored, staring down at my feet, the people around me (this may be where my people watching fixation started) and anywhere else, when my dad said he'd be back.
I didn't know where he went, but I was hoping it was to get a soda or ice cream. Anything to keep me occupied a bit longer. I finally saw him and his mustache across the street... why was he over there talking to another family? Maybe he knew them from work. It was a guy, lady and some kids. what ever I thought. I saw a few vertical bodies but their faces have since turned into grey privacy circles. Sometime later he came back and whispered something to my mom. I don't remember if it was then or many years later, but I eventually actually found out who he spoke with.
He spotted Tom Hanks and the family. holy what! You mean Mr. Bosom Buddies and Mr. Money Pit and other things at that time! Awesome and a half! From what I remember of the conversation, he non-chalantly asked for his autograph after chatting a bit. Tom politely declined, indicating he was just being a family man that day. My dad totally understood, so I think they chatted a bit more and that was it. Two families, across from one another, without ever meeting.
Tom's son Colin and I are a few years apart. So had the mustaches aligned and our families decided to hang out, who knows what could have been. It's not unheard of at Disneyland for families to meet, talk and decide to pal around for a couple hours. I mean you're mostly standing around anyway, grab lunch after and have a grand time!
We didn't make new friends that day but an 80s sunny filtered montage of laughs, ice cream and ride riding could have totally happened. We could have grown up during our awkward phases, been each others pen pal and dished on all the people we were into. Totally. I'm just saying, Colin and I could have made that initial bond over, you know, wanting ice cream to pass the time.
* I have a self-diagnosed condition where certain frequencies really bother me. Up close parade music because it's high pitched, loud clapping while not at a concert and sudden bursts of anything in a seemingly quite place are just a few.
They also had parades. I don't know about other kids, but I hated parades. The dancing, the loud music, and jerks never picked me to interact with them. Plus, even though you could hear the commotion, it took at least another 15 minutes to see because of the slow. The ONLY one I ever enjoyed was the Main Street Electrical Parade, because it was brilliantly colorful, had a single, catchy tune that didn't hurt my ears* and it only happened at night. Even if you weren't right up front, a great view could still be had because the fluorescent lights glowed perfectly. Here were my two favourite participants to see: Dopey's Jewel Train and the snails, bees and wormies. But just because I hated waiting on hard concrete, in the sun, for hours in order to get a good seat, doesn't mean my mom did. She loved the parades for reasons I still don't know.
One such occasion, we still had waiting time, so I imagine it must have been around 2:30pm, because they all seem to start around 3. My mom, dad and I waited on Disneyland's main street in order to watch that days' offering. We were on the left side, if you were to look towards Cinderella's castle. I was SO bored, staring down at my feet, the people around me (this may be where my people watching fixation started) and anywhere else, when my dad said he'd be back.
I didn't know where he went, but I was hoping it was to get a soda or ice cream. Anything to keep me occupied a bit longer. I finally saw him and his mustache across the street... why was he over there talking to another family? Maybe he knew them from work. It was a guy, lady and some kids. what ever I thought. I saw a few vertical bodies but their faces have since turned into grey privacy circles. Sometime later he came back and whispered something to my mom. I don't remember if it was then or many years later, but I eventually actually found out who he spoke with.
He spotted Tom Hanks and the family. holy what! You mean Mr. Bosom Buddies and Mr. Money Pit and other things at that time! Awesome and a half! From what I remember of the conversation, he non-chalantly asked for his autograph after chatting a bit. Tom politely declined, indicating he was just being a family man that day. My dad totally understood, so I think they chatted a bit more and that was it. Two families, across from one another, without ever meeting.
Tom's son Colin and I are a few years apart. So had the mustaches aligned and our families decided to hang out, who knows what could have been. It's not unheard of at Disneyland for families to meet, talk and decide to pal around for a couple hours. I mean you're mostly standing around anyway, grab lunch after and have a grand time!
We didn't make new friends that day but an 80s sunny filtered montage of laughs, ice cream and ride riding could have totally happened. We could have grown up during our awkward phases, been each others pen pal and dished on all the people we were into. Totally. I'm just saying, Colin and I could have made that initial bond over, you know, wanting ice cream to pass the time.
* I have a self-diagnosed condition where certain frequencies really bother me. Up close parade music because it's high pitched, loud clapping while not at a concert and sudden bursts of anything in a seemingly quite place are just a few.
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