The following is evidence of a very brief time on a dating site, doing my best to move forward in my life.
This is what I’m dealing with folks.
From a 22 year old:
Then 28:
Back to 26…classy:
48 year old actually convinced me to give him my phone number..he seemed like maybe he might be a respectable adult..nope.
Sexy playmate desired for he and his 27 dogs:
I’m leaving out the messages from 60+ overweight, dejected poor souls of men. They have had a hard enough time of life it seems.
Sigh.
The past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation, of fulfillment in whatever form. Both are illusions.
ECKHART TOLLE
I adopted a retired greyhound. He’s the sweetest, best natured boy I’ve ever met. Sure he peed in my house the first week, and puked, and pooped in my car, and bleeds all over the walls when his tail breaks open, but he’s quite the awesome fellow. It’s pretty humbling to be honored with introducing him to his 2nd phase of life. The retired life. He’s learned to walk up and down stairs, to sit, to come back when he’s called. He’s learned what grass feels like, and how to ride in cars with his head out of the window, how to play with toys and walk with me. He’s seen cats and squirrels and small dogs and babies and kids and cars and ..a mirror. His racing name was Classy Lad and he had a pretty decent run winning 25 out of 97 races. His new name is Classy Jackaloper and he’s a champion to me.
My dad is busy writing stories. Some have been a tough read. Some a tough realization. Some, great. This one happens to be about me, and great. It’s about two days on our trek through the Himalayas. So here it is. He’s still a bit tech challenged..so it’s a screen cap of a pdf of a scanned type written story, actual PDF follows. I hope you enjoy. The only thing he left out was us creeping along the side of a slate rock slew mountain nearing midnight with only one flashlight between us..me shining the light onto his present and future footsteps ahead of me. The guide way ahead of us..desperately searching for water and shelter. Anyway..it was something. But I survived, we survived, and we now have stories to tell.
I’ve had a lot of these lately. And unfortunately said some of them myself.
I need to find a calming lamp. “aw..fuck” indeed.
I don’t know where I found this. I have a folder of things I keep for the perfect time. I don’t do such a good job of documenting source. (if you know..please forward so that I can). I just love it though. It’s so honest and full of heart and concern and that picture of Kaine is just awesome. He looks so wild and crazy eyed and shatter toothed. Kinda reminds me of my favorite childhood book, The Inspector. I know I’ve posted about it before.
So is it the perfect time to post it? I don’t know. Is there ever a perfect time for anything? This week I read a story written about my childhood dog who was killed for eating chickens. Blue was his name. He had one blue eye and one brown eye and lots and lots of snow white hair. I loved that dog so much. I lost him. At the time I thought I lost him a different way..but either way..I lost him. That wasn’t the beginning of my loss of things I loved..and certainly not the end.
Right now I feel fortunate to have what I have, but I also feel great sadness about the loss of a lot of things that were dear to me. Really, really dear to me. People. Things. Dogs. Hopes. Dreams. I feel like drawing pictures of everything I’ve lost and posting them around the city in hopes that someone can return them…….or maybe realize how important they are to someone else and take better care of them than I did.
This is hilarious.
I love it.
Right down to the FIT logo.
Hilarious.
And yes. I know. 4 fingers pointing back. Yeah yeah.
Also note today is April 1. xo
