yeah,
it's back
again.
the twitter feed
going off in my head
only
not words,
but sensations . . .
maybe this is what they call
synapses
i don't know
but i want to sound intelligent
almost like i know what i'm talking about
instead of just feeling
what i feel.
from out of nowhere
comes the zapping -
behind my forehead
somewhere
back inside my brain
not close enough to touch
or massage it away
maybe temple to temple
~ back there,
somewhere.
& as always,
i blame myself.
i stop drinking coffee
or switch to decaf
but i won't exercise
(except for mowing the lawn)
everything i do is wrong
or goes awry
'nothing's ever easy'
i still hear my mom say
& now i know
how right she was.
sleeping
is my best friend
but even she
turns on me;
i wake up
exhausted
& confused.
would jumping jacks fix this?
or running down the street
like a madman?
how many miles would it take?
walking w/fists clenched -
thumbs tucked in,
mind on fire.
5.5.2019
you wouldn't have to know me long before you learned how much i hate christmas. the reasons are varied, & a lot of it i've brought on myself, but i can safely say it's been going on for over 30 years. & since i'm presently in my 60's, if you do the math, that's over 1/2 my life. a sad state of affairs, that, & i've yet to find someone who truly understands.
so today was just a flaming example of what it's like to be me. & i'm blessed beyond comprehension, but not really good at dealing with life's obstacles.
over the years, i've scaled my christmas preparations down to a bare minimum to try & hate the holiday less. i don't decorate, i don't do presents, & other than getting a little creative on computer making a card for each of my 3 grown grandkids (& tucking a small amount of cash in each one), i no longer torment myself as i once did making handmade cards & ornaments, baking cookies & sending them to family across the miles, while searching for the perfect gift for relatives living nearby.
i finally decided: FUCK THAT NOISE. i weaned myself from feeling the need to make everyone's christmas merry & bright, & opted for the gift of More Sanity for myself.
however, about 3 years back, the spirit got hold of me & i decided to make a few different types of cookies, just for family & a couple of close friends. mind you, this only involved mailing 3 packages, & bagging up 4 or 5 treat bags.
by the time the cookies were baked & i was doing the packing bit, i had returned to my hateful christmas sElf, & was sorry i had even begun.
since then, i've limited myself to choosing only 1 favorite recipe, sending a small package to my brother as well as my youngest son, who both live up in new england. the rest i share with my other son & his family, who live near me in georgia.
last year, i didn't even do that. I THINK I'M DONE.
but this year, i did opt to make just 1 batch, just for me ~ my newest favorite, double chocolate snowball cookies. i decided today would be the day, found the comedy-christmas-mix CD i had made years ago to accompany my baking expedition & keep my spirit bright, & once i got my laptop to stop trying to play the thing with 2 different programs (most unsettling!), i jumped in.
i got the batter made & was balling up the dough when my male dog, Bean, kept whining like he needed to go out. i ignored him as best i could, got batch #1 in the oven, but he was unusually persistent, so i figured he must really have to go.
i checked the timer, & with 6 minutes left, my all time favorite pseudo-christmas song queuing up on the CD, i leashed the dog & took him out.
he really seemed to mean business, dragging me around to his favorite poop spots; about 5 minutes & no results, it was time to go back in. needless to say, i was fairly annoyed.
back inside with a minute to spare! backed up the CD like i had never left, put the 2nd batch in, let the 1st cool just long enough to handle so i could give them a healthy roll in confectioners sugar.
then starts the dog again.
i am like, 'No, this is not happening, you are just going to have to wait' as i continued rolling cookies to the tune of "Christmas Wrapping" by The Waitresses.
whine, whine, whine. 1st batch rolled, 5 minutes to go - - - he like NEVER does this unless it's really important - - - out we go again. drag me here, drag me there - i am muttering to myself about how much i, once again, HATE christmas (as if these occurrences were actually related - but then, how could they not be?) - & still no results from Bean.
back in the house, i am beyond pissed by now; FUCK the dog, FUCK my comedy christmas music, & FUCK these fuckin' cookies ~ i am one merriless christmas bitch.
i growl at the dog to 'get the hell away from me i don't even wanna look at you', roll the remaining cookies in powdered sugar not caring a whit if they hold together or crumble into a sugary mess . . . dumbfounded & amazed at how brutally wrong something so simple can go.
ready to put my yearly adventure behind me, i prepare to settle down & watch TV, but first decide to go out & feed the chickens so i can pretty much call it a day. Bean thinks it's time to go out again & unfortunately i don't help matters by yelling "OUT!" at him (meaning get out of the way) . . . he obliges by bolting out the back door (sans leash), & heading for the road, which is his typical m.o. when he manages an escape.
i am so livid by now i don't even go into my usual panic mode of grabbing car keys & a leash & heading after him; i calmly go on feeding the chickens as if nothing were amiss. only then do i get into the car figuring how to best maneuver around this nice lady's truck who has pulled behind me in the driveway, abandoning her vehicle to try & retrieve my freaking dog.
always in my pajamas when 'relaxing' at home, i choose 'over the grass & through the ditch' as my option (to grandmother's house - no, wait - that's another holiday favorite, bah-ha-humbug); the poor woman apologizes for blocking my driveway as she realizes the irony of our situation; i thank her for trying as she panics, watching Bean parade up the middle of the road, for that is his style. apparently, it is his desire to be seen during these death-defying excursions.
up the road i go, blinded by the afternoon sun as i try to keep an eye out for my beloved dog, without crashing into someones vehicle.
i cruise through a small subdivision where he's been nabbed a couple of times before, but no sign of him. back down towards the house, i catch sight of him in my rear view mirror, turn around in my own driveway (the lady & her truck have since departed), head up past my neighbors house to the corner street while a van in the opposite lane has verbally caught Bean's attention (he LOVES people.)
'is this your dog?' he asks, holding up traffic as i put my car in park & grab the leash. he crosses the street & pulls up behind me, Bean now happily sitting in his new best friend's lap. as i'm gushing my thanks to yet another human who has saved Bean's life, the man says 'boy, he sure can jump!'. i hadn't witnessed how he got Bean in the van - apparently he just jumped up into the driver's side window. of a van, in case you didn't catch that.
still thanking the guy, i ushered Bean the Adventure Dog into my vehicle & back to our home. once inside, i growled at him to get in his house - he's usually very good about that - but this time, he scuttled through the house with me hot on his tail. this made him nervous, as in all the (5) years i've had him we've never played THAT game before, & i finally cornered him in the bedroom, grabbing his collar.
he resisted me all the way back to the front room & then stopped: i finally lost my cool & snarled in his ear that i WOULD beat the living shit out of him, at which point he got moving again, & within a few more feet i had him locked inside his house.
i know it's recommended not to use a dog's house as punishment, but i've got to have some kind of consequence for this behavior, even if it's just for my own sanity. he not only puts himself in danger, but drivers & their passengers as well!
however, i guess it's time i went & let him out ~ i had only planned to leave him in there for 1/2 hour, but got so carried away writing this it's been an embarrassingly unfair amount of time now . . .
* * *
i find no moral to this story, though i wish i did. i let Bean out of his house after snapping this picture; i imagine my anger had an impact on him, as he refused to make eye contact with me. his movements about the house were wary, as if i might go off again 'for no apparent reason', so i gave him some space, & resumed my normal speaking voice. things returned to their usual evening routine, we forgave each other, snuggled on the couch with his 'sister' Lamb Chop, & watched TV. i made a mental commitment to take the dogs to the park the following day - the weather had been wet for 2 days keeping us house-bound, so i knew he needed to stretch his legs.
the next morning was sunny & comfortable, i took each dog out for a potty break (no fence here), fed the chickens, & prepared to feed the wild birds out front. fully alert after Bean's little spree the day before, i did my best to squeeze out the front door, but that damn s.o.b. pushed through my legs & bounded off down the street.
i learned a long time ago there was no point in trying to follow him on foot (have i mentioned he's part greyhound?) ~ besides being very fast, he zigs & zags back & forth between yards & across the street ~ numerous times i have been able to lure him to the car, but even that has worn thin.
i pulled into a couple of different driveways, hollering out happily 'hey! you wanna go to the park? c'mon, let's go to the park!!', but he wasn't buyin' it, & continued on his merry way.
finally, a kind lady had seen my predicament, pulled her vehicle into someone's driveway, allowed Bean to climb onto her lap (despite the fact her black lab was in the passenger seat & she had no way of predicting how the 2 dogs were going respond to each other), & waited for me to cross the road.
thankfully the rescue was a success, Bean & i went safely home, & although i sequestered him to his house once again, it was only for about 10 minutes while i made myself ready to take him & Lamb Chop to the dog park. there, he can run free to his heart's content inside a large chain link pen, use the bathroom without being attached to a leash, & often there are other dogs to play with, although both he & Lamb Chop show more of an interest in the humans.
BEFORE COFFEE we made our way to the park; after he used the bathroom i tried my best to interest him in chasing after a tennis ball ~ he never brings it back, but at least if he chases it he expends some of that puppy-like energy of his. (he & Lamb Chop are both 9 by the way; she just acts more her age.)
it was a firm NO from him on the tennis ball - he sniffed around the park a bit, then finally settled for laying on the concrete, chewing on a chunk of mulch. a chocolate lab & his owner had shown up by that point but after an initial greet, Bean was more interested in the mulch, & young Fred was left to try & get Lamb Chop to play.
i was way ready for my morning coffee by then, & if he was going to do nothing but lay there & chew, i figured he could do that just as easily at home, so that's what happened next.
now i've spent another hour or more writing a follow up to the original "Christmas Cookie Caper"; Bean is snoozed out on the couch, Lamb Chop twitches away in dreamland, yet still no lessons learned or moral to the story for Bean OR me.
*sigh.*
pissed somebody off at the dog park the other day. & when i say pissed, i mean i thought the man's head was going to explode.
it was a lesson in just how ill equipped i am to deal w/the psychos of this world, how easily they can be set off, & how doing something out of character for me is not always in my best interest.
lesson learned? time will tell . . .
arrived at my usual a.m. time, large dog pen was empty as it often is by then, B & LC left their business cards around for me to file in the appropriate bins, which i did.
not long after, a large, beautifully fluffy white dog (F) arrived w/his owner; i don't think i'd met them before, but they both seemed pleasant enough, things were going smoothly, so the woman & i chatted.
then a nicely cared for pick-up truck drove up w/a familiar husky riding in the back ~ not one of my favorite dogs, but i like him better than his 'master'. we run into each other on a fairly regular basis, make small talk & our dogs get along fine, but his dog, C, can be quick to fuzz up around other non-neutered males, which is not uncommon in the doggie world. &, as it happened, he & F are both intact.
sooooo, they did the male hormonal thing as might be expected, but while F seemed satisfied w/an initial song & dance routine, C did not. he kept coming back for more, until things got physical between the two.
more than once.
F was wearing a strong harness which his mom used to keep him at her side as we sat together on the wooden deck, while the husky owner kept trying to distract his charge by throwing a tennis ball, which was only mildly successful. C would chase after the ball, then come back to the deck to instigate more unpleasant behavior. after about the 3rd fight sequence (which my happy-go-lucky neutered dog, B, foolishly jumped into & broke up), my mind told me it was time for this guy to leave. without a word, i walked over to the gate area where C's leash was hanging, & since he followed me along to get a drink of water, i took the opportunity to clip the leash to his collar.
he was in no way disturbed by this, & trotted happily along side me as we approached his dad. "is this your lead?" i questioned. well, that's when the fireworks started & if the man's head could have unscrewed & flown off into the universe i'm certain it would have.
the verbal explosion happened so quickly i can only recall bits & pieces, such as 'what are you doing w/my dog? you don't run this place/have authority over me/tell me when it's time for me to go, how would you like it if i did that to your dogs' etc. etc., to which i (lamely) replied "you wouldn't have to". . . but when i heard the word 'fuck' come out of my mouth re: the [fucking] rules & regulations posted on the gated entrance to the dog pen which make specific reference to how aggressive dogs should be handled, i knew i'd better shut up or soon i'd be calling him an asshole. unfortunately, name calling is my immature default reaction during a verbal confrontation. *sigh*
the man continued on & on about how i had no authority over him (much like a kid saying 'you're not the boss of me!'), to which i replied that at least i had sense (which, if you've read this story through, i have vividly proven otherwise by getting involved in something that was never my business in the first place!)
my dogs & i headed to the gate, as did the lady w/her beautiful (still pristine white) spitz dog, & while i tried to small talk about maybe running into her again i got the feeling she was, by then, about as impressed w/me as she was with C's owner.
oh well. it's a big world w/lots of people on short fuses to piss off ~ i too am becoming one.
why, just yesterday i found myself thinking it might be wise to start stashing bits of money aside to cover legal fees for the day i finally snap & punch somebody in the face.
