Catch me if you can

If you were to peek into my windows you’d see that about 15 times a day I do an amazing imitation of a matador. It really isn’t my fault. You see everyday I have to play “catch the creature”. That’s right, I have a little ball of fur that runs around trying to play “catch me if you can”. You wouldn’t think it was that hard to catch a little bit of fluff. The problem is that this little thing has legs of lightning. So the only way I can catch her is if I maneuver her into position and then toss a blanket over her. This isn’t as easy as it sounds. I seem to be out witted at every turn. I just know by her little warble she gives me that she is laughing and mocking me.

Don’t let those innocent brown eyes of hers deceive you… she’s diabolical. She follows behind me just to steal whatever it is I leave behind to stick it under the couch. I have no idea why she does this, but just yesterday I found 3 of her toys, two mismatching socks, a paper airplane, the VCR remote (though I’m not sure she was the culprit there), a shoe, my toothbrush, and my keys. When I found them and started picking them up, she looked at me as if she was offended. How dare I pilfer her stash?

The little monster enjoys victory laps around the living room at supersonic speeds. Luckily she only falls every now and again. Her puppy paws haven’t gotten down the concepts of traction or coordination yet. Most of the time she does well on these little adventures… well, until she hits the tile that is. Then she looks like a spinning fur covered top sliding across the floor like Tom Cruise in “Risky Business”.

She has a bark that could rupture your eardrum and these cute little whimpers that guilt me into giving her a puppy treat. And just as an aside, she also likes to eat human hair. How do I know this you ask? Well as I am catching a long overdue nap, I was awoken by a searing pain and a barking dog with a wiggling backside. It seems giving my hair a nice tug is about as much fun as an amusement park. Who needs the Tilt-a-whirl when you can chew on some hair?

You may think I am complaining, but really I wouldn’t change a thing about her. She’s incredibly frustrating and the sole reason that I walk around town with a pooper scooper, but she is mine. She loves to fall asleep on my chest and wiggle when I walk in the door. She’s overjoyed to see me and doesn’t expect things of me I can’t give. She doesn’t need me to be someone I’m not, or judge me by my failures. All I have to do is come home, feed her, chase her around with a blanket, toss her ball around, and let her eat my hair. Seems like a fair trade to me. Well that and the fact that no woman could resist her little face… now to get that to rub off on me.


“You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you this look that says, ‘My God, you’re right! I never would’ve thought of that!’” -- Dave Barry

Dreamer

Ever since I was little I’ve had the same reoccurring dream. Don’t worry; I’ll make this short as to not reveal the insanity of my psyche. But it’s always the same dream. I was about 7 and living where I grew up in a valley in Colorado. I peered out my window and caught a glimpse of something white moving with grace. Running out onto the porch I saw what it was. There, in a grass field between the trees was one unicorn. He stopped and stared at me, through me. He knew I could see him, yet he allowed me to stare. I knew without reason that this animal knew me; he understood what brought me to that porch seeking his comfort. I walked backwards into the house to tell my family that I’d seen him. They were all eating dinner as I told them of my incredible sighting. They all laughed, mocking me and my fantasies, but I knew better.

So I ended up alone and heading out again to see if he was still there. He was. I began to follow him until he led me into an open area flanked by pine trees. There before me was a small herd of the magnificent creatures. They allowed me to spend time with them, even run my hand along their bodies. It was always peaceful there, like the world had stopped to lend me a moment in that sun filled meadow.

I still have this same dream about once a month. It has changed a bit over the years and I can’t pinpoint when the change occurred. Now when I leave my disbelieving family in the kitchen and run to meet the unicorn he is there waiting as always. He turns to leave, looking back to make sure I follow him. I don’t move. He stops and paws at the ground in frustration. I turn my back on the beautiful animal. After all, he isn’t real right? When I glance back he is gone, disappeared into the trees. There is nothing left there to prove he ever existed. Every blade of grass is in its rightful place. I am left alone in my disbelief with only the comfort of the wind.

Why is it so hard for us to believe as we get older? Do we even realize the things we miss because of our cynicism? I have become quite adept at using sarcasm to hide from anything unwanted. The sad fact is that every time I hide I slip a little farther away from being able to believe. Turning my back can only leave me standing alone. I can no longer wonder what your intentions are, if you are a true friend, what it is you are trying to get out of me, why you’re here, if you really do care, if you remember, if you ever did love me, or if you'll be there. No, tonight I will stand and face you.

“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.” -- James Baldwin

I should've kept my eyes closed

I went to see that movie, “Passion of the Christ”. I’m not a fan of the Catholic Church by any stretch of the imagination; I just couldn’t help but be lured by the endless hype. I’m such a sheep. That and I am a fan of history. I will say that climatically the movie was beautiful and powerful. However, it really was too violent. I understand what they were trying to do by shocking people, but give me a break. At some point it looses its integrity and falls straight into gratuitous. They could have cut about 30 mins and made a much more powerful story. It was relatively accurate other than the portrayal of the Roman leadership.

The message of the movie was supposed to be love? Um you kinda lost that with all of that blood. I will never understand why the Catholic Church seems to focus on pain. It encourages judgment while pointing to an injustice of judgments. This screams hypocrisy to me. Can you tell I am *not* a fan of that institution. Anyway, if anything this movie made me shake my head at the focus on pain and not the true messages that the biblical texts were attempting to convey.

THEN on the way out of this “religious movie with a theme of forgiveness and love” when what do I see? One couple was so moved that they swiftly walked back to their car that was parked in a handicapped spot. Another woman made a run for the handicapped restroom even though a girl in a wheelchair was waiting. A man called another a “f-ing n---r” and I heard one woman make disparaging comments about my Human Rights Campaign bumper sticker. Oh yes... the hypocrisy continues.

“I would rather have a mind opened by wonder than one closed by belief.” -- Gerry Spence

Makin a list...

I find that it can be an interesting way to learn about someone just by what they list as things they love. It also helps that my brain is always so sporadic and disorganized that this is a good way to make me appear sane. Well maybe not sane, but at least it will make me look as if I know how to make a list. And this isn’t even the kind of list that I do knowing full well that I am making it solely to procrastinate over items listed.

I love my: family, friends, dogs, a child’s laughter, Mountain Dew, letters in the mail, Koosh balls, computer games, the smell of permanent markers, old photographs, giving someone a gift for no reason, the sunrise, the sound of the ocean, all things Ben and Jerry’s, going to the movies, Ellen DeGeneres, random quotes, popsicles, jelly beans, making someone laugh, when a bartender gives you a free drink, watching someone draw, music a few decibels too loud, the smell of rain, chatting online, rhinoceroses, candles, driving to the edge of nowhere, Loreena McKennitt, office supplies, convenience stores, moonlight, air conditioning, people that can say “I don’t know”, live entertainment, T-Shirts with clever sayings, Bailey’s Irish crème, other people’s birthdays, dreams, a hug from a friend, Antiloop, mythology, ripping the tag off a mattress, Melissa Etheridge, bloopers, Gavin Newsom, intelligent questions, the softness of a woman’s lower back, other people’s knick-knacks, Absolutely Fabulous, bad lesbian fiction, Blockbuster, floating in water, all things geeky, finding money in the washing machine, over tipping, complements for no reason, a good book, weird or strange news, Kathy Najimy, dreaming of places to travel, a first kiss, visiting historical places, thought provoking discussions, laughing so hard I cry, and comfortable silences

I also love: fresh bread, hearing from an old friend, when good moods are infectious, photography by Judy Francesconi, finding something I thought I’d lost, goofy crap I never buy in the checkout line, snow, a good rollercoaster, the smell of dryer sheets, caller ID, Robert Miles, talking with someone till the sun comes up, listening to the stories of a grandmother, a smile, the Rocky Mountains, E-mail, letting someone go ahead of me, small bookstores, a woman’s voice, the people that changed my life in various ways, winning, open minds, being there when someone needs me, not taking myself too seriously, seeing a wild animal cross my path, when restaurants give you those little chocolate mints, views from the top of high places (with my propensity for falling this can be rather dangerous), heart wrenching songs and poetry, hearing the song that was stuck in your mind come over the radio, learning something new, a good nap in the middle of the day, watching people, having someone rub or draw on my back, ketchup, MP3s, knowing someone is there for you, run-on sentences, and you for reading this drivel.

It’s rather nice to sit down for a few moments and think of only the things you love. We spend so much time focusing on what brings us pain or what is going wrong, that we tend to forget about the hundreds of things that bring us joy. So why not sit down and let your mind wander through all the things that you love off the top of your head?

“If we have the opportunity to be generous with our hearts, ourselves, we have no idea of the depth and breadth of love's reach.” -- Margaret Cho

Night night

I’m a night person. I bet you couldn’t have figured that out yourself just by looking at the times I post, but I thought I’d go ahead and state the obvious. There’s just something about its quiet that attracts me. For as much as I complain, I’m lucky to live in Arizona during these times. Here you can be looking out at thousands of stars littering the sky while listening to a lone coyote in the background. You can stand out there in the cool air and either hide in the shadows or bask in the moonlight.

There are no phones, no questions, no expectations, and no responsibilities. It’s a little piece of freedom. Some find it depressing, but at lest you don’t have to have others around to observe any loneliness, faults, or demons. Your worst can be set free and you don’t have to worry about any judgments.

I hated the night for a long time, especially here in the desert. I hated its shadows and eerie silence. I found it to be a lonesome time filled with the darkest thoughts and deepest secrets. It was like a dark shroud of unease that blanketed everything you could see. That was before. That was when I wasn’t able to notice the beauty in the moon protecting me against the shadows.

It’s amazing to me how perspectives can change even about the smallest things. No one changed my view, time took care of that. My hope is that right now, at a time I would love to change someone’s opinion, I allow time to work with me.

Random Thought:

Why can’t I be smarter than saran wrap? I start by trying to cover a bowl of leftovers, and end up tangled in 400 yards of sticky plastic and needing the jaws of life to come help me out.

“I haven’t a clue as to how my story will end. But that’s all right. When you set out on a journey and night covers the road, you don’t conclude that the road has vanished. And how else could we discover the stars?” -- Unknown

Heavy traffic

Have you ever been driving letting your mind wander, and once you reach your destination you realize you have no idea how you got there? I do that all the time. Shouldn’t we worry about this? I mean we aren’t supposed to drink NyQuil and then operate heavy machinery, yet it seems to be ok to go into some trance like state while cruising down the road. I like to think I’m a good driver, but I think everyone likes to think that about themselves.

Have you ever been in a car with someone who scares the living hell out of you? Why don’t we tell them that sitting in the passenger seat of their car takes years off our life? Do they realize that it’s not normal for people to have a death drip on the handle above their heads? I can never figure out how they don’t notice my foot searching for the imaginary break, or the beads of sweat on my forehead.

My dad is one of those people. I think he sees driving as a chance to recapture his youth and his one chance to be in a demolition derby. For me it is an opportunity to relive my life as it flashes before my eyes.

So, there I was today driving down the road and talking with myself as per usual. I suppose that’s almost as bad as talking on my cell phone, but that’s another issue. I saw a man in an SUV just about take out some older man trying to walk across the road. He then had the nerve to honk at the man that was stopping him from making his right turn. Then this same man, not 4 blocks away, stops in the middle of moving traffic to let an attractive woman in a convertible cut across the road. I could see all of this because even though the man was weaving through traffic as if his wife was in the passenger seat getting ready to give birth, yet ended up at the same stop lights as I did. Not that he seemed to notice.

Anyway, my point is that this man almost killed a nice older man legally crossing the road, while irritating everyone else on the road by stopping traffic for some woman that was breaking about six traffic laws anyway. This is also the kind of man that whistles at women as they pass a construction site I’m sure.

You can guess that I became rather irritated at this imbecile. Don’t get me wrong; I’m far from perfect when I drive and I haven’t been accident free. I can get lost going to the store, I am always singing badly or talking to myself, I flash hand gestures that would make my mother blush, and I tend to leave just enough room between my bumper and the car in front of me that I’m prime material to be cut off by another car. I have even been in 3 accidents. Once I was rear ended by a soccer mom, once my friend driving my car rear ended the Police Commissioner, and I was broadsided by a drunk. So I feel safe in saying that despite all of my short comings in the driver’s seat, at least I don’t act like Mr. Jackass, who only breaks for what he considers beautiful people.

My point is that I wish we could all be allowed to give traffic citations to others for stupidity. I would have loved to ticket that man today almost as much as I would love to ticket the ass in the Hummer who takes up three spaces when parking. I just hated that the man would break for only the person he found beautiful. It reminded me of a post written by Elisa which really hit the nail on the head about that subject. I myself would have let the old man cross.

Either way, until the time we are allowed to ticket these people I will continue to drive while talking to myself and shake my head at middle age men that just don’t seem to understand what’s really important.

“Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.” -- Anne Frank

Tell me something...

Have you ever been told the one thing you were waiting to hear? It could have been that you were right, or that it wasn’t your fault. It could be that the person just said they were sorry for the pain they caused you. Maybe they told you that it wasn’t you... that you weren’t lacking in some manner. I had wanted to hear something for so long it left a throbbing ache. I believe that focusing on what wasn’t said allowed me to hide from the truth.

I finally heard what I’d been waiting to hear. You would think I’d have been happy, or that it allowed me a sense of healing. It didn’t. The fact of the matter is that it doesn’t change a thing. In fact it just brought the truth to stare me in the face. I suppose one day I will be grateful for having heard the words I was searching for. In a way I am now… I just wish that things were different. I just wish that I could turn back time.

So I wonder why we as people can’t just let go. Why do we need to hear something that really won’t change anything? Your past is part of what makes you who you are. So if we cannot accept it, than are we not accepting ourselves? Why did I have to hear something that I should have known from the start? The fact that I was waiting to hear it means that I knew it was the truth. Why would I feel the need to have someone validate that for me? I’m not sure that I know the answers to any of these questions. I have to believe that simply asking them is a step in the right direction.

“Only I can change my life. No one can do it for me.” -- Carol Burnett