The dice were loaded

Romeo and Juliet were huge fucking assholes. They weren't star crossed lovers, the were two selfish teenagers who wanted what they wanted at their respective families expense or else they would kill themselves.
I know this now, and I wish I didn't; I wish that I could watch Teenage movies and think boy these two really belong together, but what you don't see, is that they have the opportunities they have because they're doing it on their parents, or guardians, backs, that others are just trying to make it through the day and are working hard, while the two frolic and play away.
I wonder now, about how William Shakespeare meant for us to think about this story; I realize he knew the multiple perspectives one might have at different points and junctures in life and how that effects your view of the story; and it may seem simple but it's pretty cool to know mine is not the only HFA walking around.

All together

I have another life and death situation my midst. Echo, is experiencing a unfortunately common back issue, and most likely it's not going to go away. So I could choose to outfit her with a wheelchair, or I can do the right thing and be compassionate about her pain and loss of quality of life.
It's my guess that if you have the wherewithal and the funding you can maintain an animal for much longer than would have been possible since the days of Old Yeller and Sounder. But, I feel as a pet owner that it's part of my job to make the decision for the beast when things are looking rough and or bleak; and in my situation I know she's in a lot of pain and can't move her back legs.
I'm of like mind when it comes to my life, so as I explained to Eamon, if I'm super old,find me that ice drift and send me on my way , otherwise, I'll be a monster on a scooter chair.

Past resignation

I love Dave Grohl, he's funny, irreverent, intelligent and there is a Foo Fighters song that is one of my favorites of all time. But, to have to go and and see him at Arena Rock central. No, but yes unfortunately.
Sunday the Gusser turns 16 and he is a big fan so I will not let him down, and I will take him, but it's with remorse and reluctance. Not all of the reasons have a thing to do with me. I remember so many concerts in that sort of setting, and I know how unsatisfying it is to be one person in the thousands, and to see someone perform, who you really like,and not even be able to see a little bit. Sure I could have gone and gotten better tickets for the a huge sum, but even then the experience is a sterile one.
Maybe it's just me, perhaps Gus doesn't care how he sees them, just as long as he does. but, two weeks ago I stood right in front of the stage at the Black Angels, and years ago I made a vow to myself that the only way I would go to shows is if I could be that close. So, I guess I'm waiting in the car for this one.

Hope in my past

I don't know who I am right now, except maybe for a cliche, and that squared might sum it up.
Jack is on a road trip, and Gus is in a college level math program at a local university, that has him stay in the dorm for six weeks. So empty nest syndrome is my name, but not even in the way it's supposed to be, where gradually your children leave one by one and you can have time to adjust.
The day my entire family left here, that is fourteen people; is when both boys started their adventures, and so it was a bit abrupt, and the last few days have had me paying for it, with kind of a lost and sad feel. Not to say, I won't get used to the time and chance to work on projects, get various things done and just lollygag, but by that time, life will have returned to normal or some such facsimile.

Digging for fire

When the cat that has come for the last two years, into the garage where your own cat resides, and decides that this is definitely the place to die, it brings up questions of what family really means.
This cat has been tormenting, assaulting and eating the food of our feline non-stop. Because she lives in the garage, there's not much we could do, except when we found the other in there, to shoo it away or stamp our feet.
Yesterday as we were working outside, I saw that Eamon had "the face" it's the same face I saw when he ran over our enormous frog with the lawn mower, just sort of a sour, sad, and determined look. It's a one of a kind thing, so I followed him and asked what it was, and he said a cat and I started to cry thinking it was ours, but in our garage, or it's death slab, was the evil cat, who apparently had come here to die either because it felt somewhat safe enough to not be molested by another animal, or because it just couldn't go anymore, I don't really know, but it's okay to decide what we want the reason to be.
I spoke to him, let him know that we were there if it needed anything but didn't mess with trying to touch or move him because he had already had a moment with my old man. It took about three hours, and then as the world repays those of us who are kind, Eamon got a boat load of mosquito bites burying him in the woods.

splashing around in the muck and the mire

I was thinking about how now there is a pill that you can take to stop periods, and what that probably means is that in a few years, there will be another one that stops people from having to pee. What an inconvenience all of this human biological garbage is. If we could just keep going and don't have to stop for anything that might make us be aware of our animal origins, imagine what we can do and how far we can go.
What are we so fearful of when it comes to our bodies and especially female functions; it's amazing how distant women can be from their own experiences, even with childbirth, or especially with childbirth.
When we had Gus at home, the uproar it caused for our doctors, families and selves was a huge challenge to contend with. But we did, and by using moderation in our approach to the entire experience, we kind of bypassed any massive conflict because we were flexible on many counts and didn't make it a rhetorical or issue related experience. It was just Eamon and I not wanting to go to a hospital to have a kid, we wanted to be in the setting of our own home, albeit a rental, where somehow we ended up in the bathroom and not because we had to use it.

Foolish people do

Eamon and I ate out together last night, one day shy of twenty years. I picked the Establishment as is my want. We went to a new restaurant, a French Bistro , Tartine, smack in the middle of the Rocky Riviera.
I jest, it really is a lovely space, I never noticed the building before, it's red brick, rustic and just one of those very well put together spaces.
We sat outside and ate, it's a small and crowded area. I may have never mentioned, that my husband is a bit on the giant side, though I rarely notice anymore, but folding himself into small wrought iron chairs can be a bit of a challenge. He's also kind of squirrely when it comes to sitting still for long, so as we were finishing are somewhat perfect meal, a women from the table next door looked over at him, with nothing less than disdain and with the hypercritical attention of a Mohel, and said to him; "that's so loud." I realized he had been tapping his foot on the ground for a few seconds, and it was so not loud nor was it for any length of time. However he stopped and apologized, while I, instead of feeling sheepish or shamed, replayed the moment in the movie In Bruges, where Colin Farrell and his amazing acting super self, punched a woman in a restaurant in the face for coming at him with a bottle. When I said; "wasn't that great when he punched that woman in the face?"
Silence except for the tinkle of the glass, and the polite conversation far over on the other side. I broke it with, "in that movie last night." But, you know I really don't' think people should be bothered by the smallest most nothing things and feel obliged to comment or judge. So, I had my say and I don't regret it, just the two four dollar bottles of Pelligrino.

You on the run

The simplicity of the the composition still puts me in my place, as does the genius of certain songs that just manage to take something modest and make it amazing. The tinkling piano to the roar of the mob back to the innocent music tapped out; all that and a satisfying twist, so refreshing in the face of absolute narcissism.
I got a call last night, as I was waiting for Jake at Chipotle, which he had designated as his pick up location after work, but never showed; it was Jack Henry on the phone and he was in the process of outrunning a tornado in Nebraska. Just another day on the road.

I'm already there

I made soylent green for breakfast this morning. I wasn't going to eat it, but I needed to make room in the freezer and it had been sitting in there for more than a year so I figured I would try and pull it off in hopes that one of the boyos would partake. There is no other description I can give to this stuff, except maybe if there was a dog treat that was bacon themed.
Jack is on the road with my Sister, Brother in-law, their two sons and a standard poodle; in a Prius. They are driving to California, and taking the long way. He was having some trouble the first few nights, perhaps due to the shortness on oxygen or room in the car, but seems to be managing now. I explained to him that embracing the homesickness, might not be a bad idea, . I remember fighting that feeling, and then you just get wrapped up in trying to contain it which is an enormous undertaking; to attempt to keep the tears and subsequent sobs at bay.
The thing about the feeling, is it's not really about home nor is it a sickness, it's more of a physical reaction to not being with your pack or clan, or even just another person that has the right smells and sounds.

thirst for knowledge

So at Cedar Point in the waining light, Jack Henry had yet to decide on the ever popular, thing to bring home and drop on the floor. As the "park" was about to close, he decided he wanted dog tags, and had seen a stand, but couldn't remember exactly the location of the hut. So, we walked the midway about eleven times and finally came upon it. The place was an amalgamation of different types of rustic, perhaps colonial with a hint of a desert storm military theme.

As the Frontiersman tried to help Jack make his decision on what action line the tag would hold, I noted his coonskin cap and camouflage pants with nothing short of; what the fuck.

Jack picked lighting bolts or action bolts as their known in the biz and for the tags to say "Captain Jack" However our ever helpful Daniel Boone wanna be, typed out on his wind up computer, Captian Jack. So, I with as little confrontational or critical tone that I could muster, asked him if he was sure that was how to spell captain, and he indeed was sure and there was going to be no shaking his confidence on his phonic capabilities.

Jack was miffed, and I asked him what he wanted me to do as I had tried to make the correction before the result was permanent. And told him he was lucky it wasn't a tattoo and should thusly be happy I hadn't been scalped or perhaps water boarded for my attempts to intervene with Blackwater Crockett.

What for now

I was and am at the precipice and that's where I have to be before my Mom will finally leave me alone, stop talking and step far enough away, but not too far to give me a little push. Then we can have fun; that's when she knows I'm at the most raw and well used place I could possibly be.
When my brother in-law Jim was at his Mom's house, after not seeing her for a year, his brother-in law came in yelling at him about how his dog was not being controlled and Jim didn't know how to keep his dog with him and some other gnarly grouping of worlds that were mean. This was the day before his sister was going to get married, so spirits were high and people were happy to be there and see each other after long absences.
One week prior, as my side of the family gathered, my neighbor went off on me, as I've mentioned. My thinking is that something must trigger these negative incidents that shade and color what should be an all good experience but gets tainted by someone or something. As I teased Jim about the incident, I saw in his eyes, the emotions and just plain feelings of sadness and fear that I had gone through, and then I realized in that moment the vulnerability we all experience when we are at our most happy and where we should be the most safe, but never are.

Carnival life forever

We got to the point yesterday. The last time I was there, I felt the same awe just in the number of people and the amount of flesh showing. What I don't get, is the correlation of amusement park local and skin. I'm not one to reveal all of the goods in any setting, and I don't have standards as in what people should wear or what is too revealing. However, there was a lot of chafing going on for both genders.

I know that I must have felt differently when I was younger. I'm remembering some ensembles that might have been scary being seen from the other side. And, I'm sure I thought I looked mighty foxy; alas, based on what I, the person who went on like three rides, so I had lots of bench time to ascertain the environment, can confirm, is that very few people really pull off minimal threadage.