Not Suitable For Work

Dear lord, I love Reggie Watts!

Sally's Big Night

A couple of things you should know about me: 1) I am a sucker. 2) I am a super sucker for dogs. Knowing this now, you can probably guess that Sally has me wrapped around her paw. So it's not enough that I pet sit for her (and that fat fuck Fausto) for a week and a half, I have taken it upon myself to ensure that all of her emotional and physical needs are met and maybe even exceeded.

So this evening I loaded her up in the 'baru after work and, with Tina, took a ride over to the Magnuson Off-leash Park (with a quick stop at Tina's where she bequeathed me some possible Burning Man costumery). Sally was allowed to come in and she spent a good amount of time just sniffing around.

Once at the park I had to put Sally on the leash, which she doesn't need at all, but they have all these rules and signs everywhere that shout at you: blah blah blah leash! She was, as usual, a good sport but was so very, very excited to get her freedom once we got thru the gates. She made a bee line to the water and frolicked in her own calm, Sally way. Poor planning on my part - I forgot a stick - but she still had a lovely time swimming, smelling other dogs butts, and running about like a happy, happy puppy.

After dropping Tina off, we then headed to my place in Ballard with another quick stop - this time to Mud Bay Granary on Greenwood where I got her some high falutin', organic parmesan doggy biscuits to replace the beef berry snacks from REI that I'd been bribing her with for a while now. These biscuits definitely did the trick as she proceeded to follow me every time I headed to the kitchen where she would stare longingly at the bag of biscuits on the window sill. I was tempted to giver her more but I knew that I ran the risk of becoming more than your ordinary, run of the mill sucker if I had.

Anyway, we've been home for a little more than an hour and Sally has abandoned all pretense that she doesn't sleep on the couch when no one is looking. She's crawled up onto the end closest to the window, her head propped on the armrest, a front paw draped over a pillow. She looked right thru me when I came out of the bathroom ready to blog and she pretended not to hear me when I first gave her a half-hearted reprimand and then asked her politely to move.

So here I am, wedged in between a farty black lab to my right and a plotting, evil cat jealous of all the attention he's not getting to my left. All of us tired, nodding off, and dreaming of cheese.

If ever you are in Copenhagen...

There are a number of designs and graphic elements in the rooms at Hotel Fox in Copenhagen, Denmark that I LOVE. But I don't know if I could sleep in them. Bathe. Eat. Hang out and watch DVD's. Sure. 40 winks? I'm not so sure. Check 'em out and tell me what you think.

Mini Ivan Report

Brief contact with Ivan last night. Lack of sunlight for solar recharge and/or no wifi connection has made blogging difficult. He'll have more to report when he can get on-line but for those of us tracking his progress as of last night he was at Cayuse Pass (where wa-410 & wa-123 meet) and was planning on climbing it today. Hard to tell how many miles he's gone so far. I'm having trouble mapping it on Google, but MapQuest puts it at about 82 miles with a slightly different route to Enumclaw. That means roughly 638 miles to go.

Evening

My first night staying alone at Ivan's. Quiet so far. Sally alternates between barking at anybody who sets foot on the porch, lying flat on the floor like a chicken getting ready for roasting, and looking at me quizzically as if to say: I know you, but where is the one with the deeper voice who is usually here? Fausto, on the other hand is napping draped over the top of the couch just to the right of my head. A paw comes out occasionally and touches my hair with soft, furry strokes.

Sensual Deprivation by Pattiann Rogers

I've never held a monkey of any kind,
never smoothed the stubbled fur
of a collared titi's head or enclosed
the twig-thin bones of a spider monkey's
fingers in mine or followed the wrinkled
petal of its primrose ear by touch.

Though I've held a live chicken hen
full grown, I've never put my finger
under the feathers of an eagle's throat,
felt the kind of furious flutter
that must pass there continuously
as it sails in surges above the buttresses
of seacliffs or down the thunder
of river passes, that hot, pulsing
thudder under its skin, raging
even as it roosts, even all night
under a dissolving and rainy moon.

I've never pressed the ball of my thumb
against a common wombat's claw
or felt the spotted cuscus curl its pink,
naked tail tip around my finger
or pressed my hand to the bass-drum
barrel of a sea lion's ribs as it bellows
or let the tentacle of a short fin squid
suck to my fist.

What of essence can the eyes alone
truly perceive, those overrated, flighty
skimmers? After all, it was the hands
that invented fondling, the fingers
that created gentleness.

And I, who actually claim
to know you, have never once studied
with my finger the intricate assertion
of your inner wrist, have never found
your stance from neck to feet, every linked
furrow and tone, by touching them all,
or felt your breath as proof on my fingers
during a shrill snow closing in
on a day like this one.

What can I know, possessing now a touch
so restricted, a grasp so limited,
such ignorant hands, such poor,
deprived fingers, such a pitiful,
hampered heart?

How to build your own Hobbit Hole

I'm pretty sure you don't need to live in Wales to do this.

Morning Musings

It's 9:00 a.m. and, unless something untoward happened to him after leaving me at the bus stop this morning, Ivan is on the road at last. Last night I got home and there he was, puttering around his bike, arranging the last few items of gear and, although I knew he'd be there, my reaction was: "Oh. You. Are you still here?"

Maybe it wasn't such an odd reaction because for weeks he was leaving on Monday morning. Yep, gonna leave on Monday the 13th. And there was, for me, a swelling sense of sad anticipation because he was leaving on Monday and I wouldn't see him for two.whole. weeks and everything was for 'the last time'. The last time we'd eat dinner together for two whole weeks. The last time we'd fall asleep together for two whole weeks. The last time he'd make me my morning coffee for two whole weeks. The last time we'd walk Sally together for two whole weeks. And when he walked me to the bus stop on Monday morning we held hands and kissed and stood very close together because this was good bye FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS!

(I should note here that we've been together for less than six months so, yes, it's a bit syrupy but cut me some slack.)

Anyway, next thing I know : Nope, not leaving. See you tonight. Gah!

Now don't get me wrong, I'm glad we had an additional night together but this morning coffee was just coffee, the walk to the bus stop felt kind of rushed and as we held hands I wondered if I needed more hand lotion because they were feeling kind of dry. Talk about an anticlimax.

But I've had a couple of hours to think about it now and I think it was a good thing to have happened. He's on the road and I'm no longer starry eyed about the separation. I can plant myself even more firmly in the "This is an awesome thing you're doing!" camp and look forward to reading about his adventures on his blog. I'm less likely to worry about him. And I can simply look forward to meeting up with him at BM where we can set up our tent, fall asleep together, and have morning coffee together there.

More importantly, I can focus on getting myself prepared for my first Burning Man experience: What am I going to do? What and who am I going to see? What the hell am I going to wear? I'm glad that that he'll be there with me, but I'm even more glad that I'm going at all. I have tentative plans to volunteer at a few camps so that my experience will be focused on 'me' rather than on 'us'.

At breakfast a couple of weeks ago with Mark McB and JulieP, we talked about BM as an opportunity to explore and expand one's boundaries. I would also add that it can be about examining how one experiences life. I want to go to BM with intention: to do things that I've never done before, to take risks small and large, to look at life upside down and with clothes that don't necessarily match.

Ivan is on his adventure now. Mine starts in 2 weeks.

Life is known only by those who have found a way to be comfortable with change and the unknown. Given the nature of life, there may be no security, but only adventure.

Kiwi

Grab a hankie...

3..2..1...We have lift-off!

Ivan leaves today for his epic 700+ miles bike ride to Burning Man. I've linked his travel blog over there to the right. You can also access it here: http://www.cockrumville.com/biketotheburn/

UPDATE! I may have been hasty in the above statement...Will keep you posted.

Le Grand Content

Since I don't go to church anymore, I've started to use my Sunday mornings to ponder "LIFE". You know, the 'Big Questions', "Le Grand Content.'