Feeling Whipped

Starting the day off with something negative is never a good thing.

It was frustrating. I have been at this job technically since late October, but have really only been doing the job for a few months. In all that time you'd think that someone would have told me all the do's ad don'ts of the job right? If not all the do's, at least all the don'ts should have been up front and lying on the table in plain sight, right? Well, I guess not.

I don't like getting in trouble. Yeah, I know sometimes it seems like I go looking for it. I may let my guard down and occasionally do stupid things, but I don't go looking for trouble. I don't go looking for someone to antagonize or a situation where I just do something to see if i can get away with or not. I'm too old for that.

When I suddenly find out that something I thought I have been doing right all along is really a no-no it bothers me. I can't help but have it bother me. Like most males, I like people to believe I'm thick-skinned and I can take anything. The thing is, when I get it chewed out (in so many words) it eats at me. I was sullen all day. I just had an overwhelming feeling like I just wanted to get in bed and pull the covers up over my head. Couldn't someone maybe have bothered to tell me?

I felt like I had been set up for a fall. It's like being blindfolded and told to walk a curvy road that's littered with traps and pitfalls. Maybe everyone isn't watching me, but at least the one that blindfolded me probably is, and he's just waiting for the inevitable fall.

Yeah, I know I'm just being paranoid, but I can't help but wonder what else I'm doing wrong without realizing it.

Frustrations

I haven't posted any general blogging in a while.  I've posted chronological events like our Iceland trip, and a few poems, but not just a "what's on my mind" sort of blog post.  The funny thing is, those are the kind that made up the majority of my blogging in the past.

Maybe it's a winter/cold weather doldrums thing.  I don't know.  I sit here and, while part of me wants to blog, I just end up staring at the screen.  I think ahead at what I want to blog and realize it's all whining, griping, or "woe is me" health (or lack thereof) coverage.  Given that realization I just move on and don't write.

Frustrations.

I'm frustrated at my attitude towards my Harley.  My heart is just not in it any longer.  Part of me wants to ride it, and part of me wants to sell it.  The trouble is, the Harley market is flat due to bad economy and lots of other sellers swamping the market.  Then I think, "Do I really want to sell it?"  Maybe not.  Given my fickle nature it's hard to tell.  If I do sell it I may be sorry.  Then again... Cash is always nice.  It would buy a few vacation trips or some new photography equipment.

Photography--another source of frustration.  My photography drives me nuts.  My 365 project ended last month, and now I have nothing forcing me to take pictures.  I'm glad it's gone, but I miss it.  Now I can take pictures of anything, any time, for any reason, but find myself not doing it.  Then when I do do it, I get frustrated with the outcome.  Part of me wants to upgrade my camera to a "new" (I'd buy it used) 50D, but part of me says, "What for?  You'll still take crappy pictures."  I sigh to myself.  I know without a doubt that Sue's camera does take better pictures than mine does.  I'm not talking about the art end of it--I'm talking about the camera itself.  Hers meters light and colors much better than mine does.  I have to "correct" almost every picture I take.  I have also found that I like to post pictures in blog format more than gallery format (which is what our Smugmug account is).  The blog format allows creativity on multiple levels that the galleries do not.  That's another issue:  When I take pictures, where do I post them?  Smugmug or blog?  I want to showcase them, but who am I showcasing them for?  Does anybody really look at them?

Frustrations.

You know what else frustrates me?  I've been itching for a good week or better now.  You ever had hives?  It's no laughing matter because you can't really do anything about it.  If nothing caused it (which it didn't) all I can do is wait for it to run its course.  You can't scratch because it makes you want to scratch even more.

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day.  I got my car washed for the first time in probably half a year.  I also washed Sue's car.  So what do I hear as I sit here?  Rain.  We have had the most attitude-testing weather lately--It's driving everyone nuts.

Our economy is another source of frustration for me.  I'm not a smart man when it comes to investing.  I know it's a "buyer's market" out there right now, but I don't know what to do.  Sue wants me to invest her money for her, but I feel like I would lose it instead.

Frustrations.

Christmas Gone

Christmas is over.  I'm still not wrapping my mind completely around how different it is than it used to be.

I grew up totally immersed in Christmas.  Our family wasn't a church-going family so it really wasn't the religious version of Christmas, which is of course what Christmas really is, but neither was it the overdose of commercialism that takes place now.  Back in those days we weren't immersed in the media blitz of commercialism that we are now.  Instead it was a feeling that permeated our lives, starting slowly but grew and grew as the month of December progressed. 

It was an experience.  It was something to feel good about.

To me, Christmas season was things like the weather getting cold, playing in snow, the daylight hours getting shorter, the colored lights going up around the houses, the smells of homemade scented candles and pine needles in the house, the sounds of Christmas music wafting from the oversize stereo cabinet.  It was a huge experience.  It was anticipation, of course, because we knew we would get presents.  We also were raised knowing the difference between good and bad, and of doing the right thing.  When Christmas season came around, we put on our best behavior at all times because we knew that Santa would not be kind to us.  You know what though?  That mentality is what made the season so merry and bright.  Everyone just felt strangely good inside.  It also taught us to be good people.

I don't know when I first became aware of how good it felt to give gifts, but I know it was at a young age.  That was another facet of Christmas I loved as a kid.  I loved to watch someone's face as they opened a gift from me.  Hoping with all my heart that it would be the best gift anyone had ever given them in their whole life.  Kids aren't aware enough to notice the subtle little things about adults pretending to be impressed with a gift, but it didn't matter.  We gave with our hearts, and we meant it.

The Christmas experience started waning several years ago.  I don't remember when.  I don't remember even if it was before I was grown with a family of my own or not.  I do know that I experienced a resurgence of interest in it when my daughter was born though.  My life was intensely focused on her childhood experiences of Christmas.  I didn't just give her things, we had rituals of going out driving, looking at the displays of Christmas lights that people had put up on their homes.  We played music, we read Christmas stories, and we watched Christmas movies.  I lived my life through my daughter's eyes.

When I divorced it was a time of turmoil.  On one hand I was relieved that it was behind me.  On the other hand, there was loneliness.  My first Christmas was one of an empty apartment.  No tree, no decorations, no nothing.  I remember taking walks and looking at Christmas lights, but it was weird--like a past life.  The following year I told myself I was going to make a halfhearted attempt at putting some Christmas into my stark apartment.  I bought a tree and all the decorations to make it look like a Christmas tree, but it wasn't the same.  Something was missing.  Sure, it was a fake tree, but that wasn't it.  It went deeper.

Now I'm married to a fantastic woman that doesn't celebrate Christmas.  Do I feel remorse?  No.  Do I feel like something is missing?  Maybe.  I can't quite put my finger on it.  Part of me is glad that I don't have the same pressures of gift-giving that I once had.  I know that Christmas gift-giving has become a requirement, and for many people has dropped to the point of being an obligatory checklist affair.  That part I don't miss.  But I miss something.  Maybe it's just the fact that there is nothing.  Maybe that's it.  I see Christmas lights all around, but I don't even feel the desire to go driving around to look at them.  It's just different.

Now Christmas this year is behind me, and it's almost like it never happened.  I guess I want the "magic" feeling that Christmas used to provide.  The childhood innocence and the wonder.  Now when I go to work someone (probably multiple people) will ask me, "Did you have a good Christmas?" Part of me wants to say, "What Christmas?" or "No, I didn't have a Christmas."  No, instead I'll say, "Sure... you?"

It's just not worth explaining.

Weather-change Doldrums?

I feel like I'm floundering lately.  I guess it's the onset of winter, which is just on the horizon, that has me in a wishy-washy state of mind.

There is also the strange way my health rears its ugly head this time of year... Every year.  I get skin issues, strange swellings, aches & pains--You name it.  I've been having one thing after another for the last few weeks.  I'm going to attribute it to the weather change.  Our weather has been all over the map, but I don't have anything else to blame it on.  You know how it is:  When you have a lapse in the conversation you always bring up the weather.  Lately, I've been dealing with a swollen ankle and lower leg pain, and I did nothing to cause it.

It could just be age.

Before we went to Kauai I was going to order myself a new camera lens.  I had finally figured out what I wanted for my next foray into the photography world, and it was reasonably priced, but instead of buying then I opted to wait until we got back from our trip.  I only wanted to spread the bills and expenses out a little farther is all.  I'm pretty rational with money decisions.  I guess that's one of my good traits.  Anyway, I came back and was going to order the lens.  The calendar had finally put me past the billing date of my Visa card, and because I pay it in full every month it was "clean slate" time.  I went onto the website of my chosen retailer, and wouldn't you know it, they're a Jewish company.  So what?  Well, they had just shut the entire company down for a solid week to celebrate Succos apparently.  When they finally did reopen, guess what?  My lens was sold out and discontinued (it was not a recent model).  That sent me on a quest to find another source.  Everywhere I went it was the same thing:  Out of stock.  Discontinued.  I think I finally have it on the move though.  I guess I have located the last one in the world--Hopefully I'll get it.  All I can say is:  I'd better like the damn thing!

I also ordered myself a new camera bag the other day.  I don't know if the harrowing tumble down the freeway last summer when it fell off the Harley had anything to do with it, but it's falling apart.  The top zipper has a corner that no longer works.  Fortunately, it has a zipper at both ends so I can still zip it up from either end, stopping just short of the bad spot.  I have grown weary of the bag design anyway--It's just packed a little too tightly and I need a little more space.  We checked out a few at a store this weekend and I liked what I saw in a particular brand and style, so I let the web do the rest of the shopping research for me and chose one similar to the one we saw in person.  Same brand, different model.  WAY cheaper.

The "doomsday media" is constantly telling us here in the northwest that we're in for a winter that's colder and wetter than usual.  I don't know about the media.  Sometimes it's like it's driven by retailers.  A classic scenario is when they say something like, "...spokesmen say the price of gasoline may rise sharply in the near future because of..." then, lo & behold, it actually happens.  It's magic!  The media puppets can foresee the future!  Well, maybe this latest one is for all the sellers of firewood, tire chains, outerwear, and heating oil.  So what am I doing about it?  Well, besides the fact that I have us fairly well stocked up on firewood, nothing much.  One exception is that I am prowling around for a cheap, small Honda 3-wheeler for snow use.  I have found that they exist in relatively low demand--Partly because they're small and underpowered (they're only little 90cc or 110cc engines), and partly because the media went on a 3-wheeler "witch hunt" several years ago and actually got manufacturers to stop making them.  I know anything is dangerous in the hands of an idiot, but these little 3-wheelers I'm talking about are really, really fun in the snow, cheap to operate and practically indestructible.  I guess I should get myself fixed up with some tire chains for my car and/or truck too.  As much as I hate them, they're pretty necessary sometimes.

Well, that's enough for now.  Time to finish the coffee and get moving.

Glad it's Over

The weekend that is--I'm glad it's behind me. For one reason or another it was just a crappy weekend.

Health was the biggest part of it. I detected the impending ill health as early as Wednesday, and by Thanksgiving a sporadic cough had developed. By the time Friday arrived I had the "full meal deal" of flu. Yes, again. I spend much of the day wrapped tightly and zombielike, dozing in and out of reality in my recliner in front of a hot-burning wood fire. I had pain, fever, cough, and kind of drifted in and out of reality. Anyway, I was much better the next day and even yesterday, but still the persistent cough nags me and those around me.

Thanksgiving Day went okay. Nothing really went wrong that is. It was a little fragmented though, having attended my parents' dinner without Suzie. I took Sarah, but she left after an hour or so--Picked up by her mom to attend a celebration at someone else's house. When I left my parents' house, I drove to Kevin and Shirley's house where Sue had spent hours with other members of her family. She was ready to go when I got there so basically I got there pretty much in time to leave.

As far as Thanksgiving went, we both felt pretty much the same: The events went well enough.

During one instance of drug-enhanced near-clarity on Friday I drove us into Covington so Sue could check the leftovers at a Black Friday sale. A few stops here and there netted nothing, but at least the traffic was nil. It appeared that everyone had gotten in and out early because it was almost pleasurable to drive around during mid-afternoon.

It seems fitting that I finished off the bad weekend by making a verbal misstep that put me in the doghouse with Suzie yesterday. Sometimes a slight thing said or taken the wrong way can have a huge effect, and this was a good example of that. When the damage is done, it's not easily undone. You can't just take things back and have things be all better. I can still taste my foot.

So, back to the weekend report: Although there were a few little bright spots, the overall rating is thumbs down. I might as well go to work today so I can collect my measly, 32-hour paycheck. Yes, as if being sick all day on Friday wasn't bad enough, it was also an unpaid day off.

R.I.P. Pokey

Suzie and I were having an evening of hashing out differences last night. We still struggle occasionally with offending each other by use and non-use of possessions--Favoritism and things like that. Anyway, we had just reached a good point of understanding after a couple hours of talking about things when this text message came in from Sarah:

"Pokey just had a heart attack and died"

I stared at my cell phone in disbelief. Not even an hour earlier Sarah and I were talking on the phone about her upcoming transition into college life and things we were going to to this weekend.

"What!?" I shouted at the phone. Suzie was sitting next to me and asked what it was about. After telling her, we both were numb with disbelief.

Pokey was a special dog. Pokey was a weird dog. But most of all, Pokey was someone's dog.

Teresa came home with Pokey as a little puppy only a year and a helf ago from one of her annual trips over to visit her friend, Karen, on the other side of Washington. Yes, Pokey was very, very young. Karen can be very persuasive, and when you couple that with the fact that Teresa can be easily swayed, she might come back with anything. Several years ago she came home with Cream, a kittycat they still have. I might add that neither of these animals were "first choice" picks. Cream was always a little more "stand-offish" than most cats, and also tended to pee on things. I figure that one of her parents was probably a feral farm cat. Anyway, Pokey was odd from the start. There was just something about her that seemed "not quite right" to me. Sarah was less than impressed with her mother's choice of a dog too, and tended to make less than favorable comments about how stupid she was or whatever. That was in the early days. Sarah and Teresa both grew to love that dog, and I also went straight for the dog whenever I stopped in for a visit.

Pokey took over their house as many dogs do. Hair, toys, and all type of things dog related were strewn about. Pokey loved tossing floppy toys into the air and catching them. She wasn't a "ball" dog--She liked things that had swing and sway to them. She was perfectly happy entertaining herself if she had to. They told me once about going to a dog class with her, and she spent the whole time playing with a toy that was given to the dog owners--Oblivious of everything else around her. The other dogs sat and watched her tossing the toy into the air and catching it all by herself.

One day when Pokey was only half grown she broke one of her front legs. Apparently she was tied up in the back yard and was near the fence where the next door neighbors also dogs-Two big, burly ones. Near as they can tell, even though the fence is solid, they did something against the fence that scared her, and in her haste or movements, she self-inflicted a spiral fracture or something on herself. Teresa apparently paid a lot of money to have her leg fixed, but her walk was never the same. From that day on she had a sort of "hopping" limp whenever she ran or played. We thought it odd at that time that a dog could break a leg so easily, but dismissed it.

One day last summer I visited Sarah and she was out back with Pokey. She was having the time of her life chasing bubbles that Sarah was blowing. She could have easily done it all day long (click to see them full size)



Last night Teresa and her friend, Noelle, took their dogs for a 4-mile walk as they had done so many times before. It wasn't a run for the dogs--It was a walk for the ladies. It was what they liked to do, and gave them exercise, a time to socialize, and also afforded their dogs a time to get out and get the same. When they got back to Noelle's house, Teresa said Pokey got a "second wind" and started jumping and running around, then all of a sudden had a seizure and folded up and died on the spot. When we think back, it's apparent that she had some sort of developmental issues with her body. It's like she grew too fast or something.

Sue and I went down there right after getting the message to give them support and talk with them about it all. Noelle's husband Kurt was just finishing up the burial when we arrived. It was a sad, sad evening.

Although it's very hard on both Sarah and Teresa, it came at a bad time for Teresa especially because Sarah will be away at college starting next week.

We're all animal lovers, and were (and are still) devastated. Rest in peace, Pokey.