sirena: (End on end like a long lost astronaut.)
My grandmother's old boss, the OB/GYN who delivered yours truly into the world (for which I will never completely forgive him) (haha), passed away last week. Somewhere I still have the stuffed cat he gave me back then. Her name is Samantha.

Also, last night I had a dream that (amidst a live-action version of Monty Python and the Holy Grail) Casey Boo had returned to life, sort of like that dog that survived euthanasia, although even in the dream I didn't see how it could be possible after so long. It's been almost a year since she died, and it's still a gnawing thing that lingers in the back of my mind and gets me when I'm not expecting it.

Also also, I'm watching the fifth season of Buffy right now, and of course this is the season where Joyce gets a brain tumor and dies, which of course leads me down all sorts of thought paths, like, "What if this happens to me? What if this happens to my mother? Or my grandmother? What will I do when my grandparents die? How will I ever get over that?". So--I really, really think I'm going to have to skip that episode.
sirena: (End on end like a long lost astronaut.)
So today I get the news that Dave's dog, Max--who has loved me since the day I met him, and who wouldn't leave Casey's side after she started acting sick (even after all the months she bugged the shit out of him), and who is just generally sweet all around--has osteomyelitis in his jaw, and maybe a staph infection, and will probably have to be put down.

CAN THIS MONTH JUST GO FUCK OFF AND DIE IN A FIRE ALREADY. STOP TAKING ALL OF MY DOGS, GOD.



It was bad enough that every time I see a dog now, instead of thinking, "Oh, cute puppy!" I think:

DOG


Every dog is a big flashing knife in my gut.

I just saw him yesterday.
sirena: (banksy; i'm nothing if not unrealistic)
I want to thank everyone for your condolences--I am doing better but I still have a little extra anxiety leftover. I only cry when I think about the little things, or when I pull up in my Mom's driveway and she's not there wagging her tail at me. Sigh. Give it time, Nichole.

Anyway! This is what I really came here to say:
Is your cat making too much noise all the time?

HAPPY SAM'S BIRTHDAY!

And many happy returns of the day. Muchos huggos, Sammy. Sorry I tacked on a depressing note to your birthday message. :)
sirena: (End on end like a long lost astronaut.)
I went to see Casey today (and brought some Campbell's Chunky Soup [with love from my grandmother] and a hot dog), and of course I started sobbing as soon as I saw her. She was sleeping in her kennel outside and was all wobbly as soon as she stood up to come see me. She ate the hot dog right away. She and I hung out on the lawn for a few hours, me blowing my nose/sneezing/sniffling/touching her/crying, and her mostly sleeping (or trying to, because I wouldn't stop blowing my nose/sneezing/sniffling/touching her/crying). So we sat there for maybe an hour and a half, until she sat up a little and acted like she wanted to go somewhere. I thought maybe she was thirsty, so I helped her up the hill to her kennel and she drank some water and I gave her half of the can of soup, which she could not get enough of. I'm talking chasing the bowl around trying to get in all the crevices.

I walked with her over to the patio and tried to get her to lay down with me, but she was dead set on wandering around. After a bathroom break (yay!) she still wanted to get up and walk, so I grabbed the leash and said, "OK, let's go." (Dave said that it seemed to help if he walked with the leash taut, to keep her from falling.) She and I walked almost the whole way down the (long) driveway and back. I could tell she was slower than usual, and a bit more unsteady, and once or twice she would list to the left and bump into my leg, but she never seemed like she would fall over. She was even trying to drag me into the woods, and I might have let her if I wasn't wearing flip flops.

I know this is far from riveting, but I know she is old and I don't know how much longer I'll have her and she breaks my heart and I am not ready. I will never be ready. There have been times when I thought I would give Jeremy up--and I do love him, with all my heart--if I could have her around forever. I know how ridiculous that sounds but you're talking to the girl who cries at everything, going all the way back to the first time I saw The Land Before Time.

Ugh ugh ugh, this sucks, this whole aging thing.
sirena: (End on end like a long lost astronaut.)
Just talked to my mom on the phone, and she said the dog (who is otherwise healthy and who can still easily outrun me) is stumbling into things and seems to be cocking her head to the side, both of which are unusual and seem to have started suddenly. She's almost 13 and I'm getting kind of worried. I know certain things are inevitable, but I don't don't don't want to think about it.

oh my casey boo.
sirena: (kate; a homunculus!)
I suppose it is worth mentioning for the record that today--right now, in fact--we are getting quite a lot of snow. And I burned my fingers on some steam and have to wear onions on them like band-aids.

I wish Casey Boo were here, or I were in Whiteford, so I could watch her running around in the snow like a crazy thing.
sirena: (banksy; i'm nothing if not unrealistic)
Updated two weeks ago! That is terrible, even by my lax posting standards.

Two things to get out of the way, then:

Rumsfeld arts and crafts!
Happy Belated Caleb's Birthday!

eggman dance
Happy Day-Early Michael Watson's Birthday!

There we go. The rest of this may be long, and I apologize, and I'll try to keep it interesting with lots of paragraph breaks.

Since the accident, I've had to do a lot of legwork with the other guy's insurance company. At one point I thought I was going to have to deal with his father, who wrote his policy, but fate intervened on my behalf and I got to avoid that awkward scenario. As I understand it, there was a dispute, but it seems to have worked in my favor, as his insurance is springing for a rental car for me. Huzzah! The downside of this is that it means I will have to clean out my trunk, which is full of three years work of art projects.

The weekend after the accident (10/5), we attempted to go camping. Unfortunately all we managed was to make the 1.5 hour trip out there, find everything full, drive around some freaky dirt roads in the mountains at night, and come home. The actual camping trip happened this past weekend, which was a bit colder but not unbearable, except when the dog woke up at 4am to pee.

SUNDAY! Was of Montreal at Ram's Head Live (MGMT and Grand Buffet opened). It was ever bit as surreal and fantastic as I had expected. I'm slightly depressed to learn that Kevin Barnes looks better in fishnets than I do. Easily the most amazing show I've ever been to that wasn't a TMBG show (I've seen them so many (6!) times, they're in a different category). It was a lot like this:

(Also, a slideshow of pictures from Sunday)

I think I am in love with you, Kevin Barnes, but I'm afraid I ain't got no Soul Power.

In other news, the Bad Days have shown up a bit late. J doesn't seem to understand how debilitating and paralyzing my fears are, and I am afraid of a lot of things. I don't know how to explain it to him, and I'm afraid he won't care and just wants me to get over it, and I feel horrible and disgusting at the thought of saying them out loud anyway. So I shut down. I don't know what to do with this--I just want to get in my car and drive and get lost.

Also: For Halloween, my roommates want to go out to Adams Morgan or Dupont Circle (big obnoxious party), J wants to go to his friend's for a party (small, possibly obnoxious party at which I will likely be the only person not drinking). I would be perfectly content to put on my Jem thang and go wander around Fells Point again or Ellicott City or Annapolis or Georgetown. Or just go driving. But I have stupidly acquiesced to both of these things when I'd really rather not do either.

I am off to go watch an episode of X-Men: The Animated Series now.
sirena: (blue beetle; wtf?)
Man Not Sure What To Do About Vet's Request For Dog-Urine Sample

Yeah, that's basically what I'm looking at today.

I post too much. :(
sirena: (The terrible truth about rainbows.)


Things My Dog Has Eaten*
*not because we feed it to her or anything, she just gets into stuff when we're not looking
  • Squeaky Fleece Hippo/Cow Amalgamation ("Baby")
  • Beanbag chair
  • Another beanbag chair
  • My brother's blanket
  • Purple UniBall Vision
  • Bendy rubber Santa Claus
  • Several boxes of Christmas ornaments
  • Most of a collection of Christmas-around-the-world dolls
  • Black leather recliner handle
  • The heels of my mother's boots
  • The tabs on the back of my old Nikes
  • Pepsi can (completely drained, with two puncture marks, a la vampires)
  • Chicken bones
  • Plastic soda bottles
  • Plastic milk jugs
  • Too many tennis balls to count
  • Socks
  • Two old comforters
  • A sleeping bag
  • A mattress
  • Half of my copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame
  • Two really good wide-toothed combs
  • Paintbrush handles
  • A dried starfish
  • Seashells

But NOT:
  • Rawhide bones
  • Milkbones
  • French fries


After seeing this I'd really like to dye my hair pink, except it would match exactly nothing in my wardrobe. Well, the Jem dress.

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