Cinderblock Love

So, for the past three weeks, I've have a wiener. A wiener dog that is. The one and only Slappy, Leslie's pride and joy (and by pride and joy I mean pain in the ass), a seven year old tan dachshund dog. She is very, very sweet and snuggly and dances and somehow manages to poop her body weight daily. I'm serious, drops it like it's hot like 4-6 times a day. It's a freak of nature that dog's digestive system, like her food is rigged with some colon blow. (I'd post a photo of Slappy but my camera is broken) She really is a sweet creature and she's come to actually like the cat; they touch noses now and then the cat tries to molest her. That's what Slappy gets for befriending a cat, let this be a lesson to you potential cat people: stay away. Now Slappy is probably the most low maintenance dog that has ever lived, I mean a walk around the circle and those little two inch legs are tuckered out. But she does do two things I can't handle: the aforementioned fecal barrage and the occasional vomit. Can't handle at all. Like I actually threw up a little bit this morning because of it.
I've said it before and I stand by my claim that I have the maternal instinct of a cinder block. Like if someone hands me a baby, I just sort of stare at it then try to engage it in conversation, like, "So...what do you think of the Democratic Primary process?" or "What's your favorite podcast?" questions I wouldn't even ask an adult but I freeze up around babies and suddenly I sound like a wannabe correspondent for "Morning Edition". It's the same with babies, kittens, dogs, probably lizards and/or bear cubs I just don't have the frame of reference. That cuddling, maternal thing just isn't there. Slappy and I have an understanding in our cuddling: it's the take it or leave it variety, not the suffocating needy sort. That I can handle. A little bit. In small increments of time. I mean normally I don't even have a houseplant I take care of. Being responsible for someone else isn't a forte of mine.

Once a child is somewhere between the ages of 3 and 12 and 16 and death I'm totally fine, but birth to three and 12 to 16 I'm right out. See? Cinder block. Like put a cinder block in nerdy glasses and a smartass t-shirt and it would look like me as a babysitter, which is why I haven't baby sat since I was 13.
Yeah you keep that mental image.

Thank God for the Mid-90s

So a friend from my church youth group growing up tagged a bunch of old photos on myspace and I was cracking up laughing at these. Thought I'd share me and friends, circa 1994 or so.

That would be me and good ol' Mattie V, a friend since (gulp) Kindergarten. Wow. He's now the Area Director in Winchester, VA. And is married with two kids.

A youth group sleepover in Maryland, when the boys were supposed to use a giant tent that Kelly brought but she forgot to pack the poles so they used it as a tarp over a picnic table. It was quite funny. Holly, Kelly, Erica, Brandon, Matt, Rachel, and me in the very back. I had braces and wouldn't smile because I hated them. I didn't smile for 4 years. I think is also the trip where Matt and I played guitar and with Rachel sang "Kid Fears" by the Indigo Girls cuz Matt could sing Michael Stipe's part. Awesome.

I Wanna Know What [Danny Glover] Is

Sorry for the lack of posting lately; life is a wind-up toy with fits of extreme motion and then crippling lethargy. I stayed in Virginia an extra night to spend time with my dad and it did not disappoint; if anything it was one of the more enjoyable portions of the trip. We drank scotch and sat on the back deck and talked about goats, guns, politics and fly fishing. It may sound strange but I feel so loving and loved in those moments. It scares me how much I love my father, how much I understand him, how I know him. The idea that a part of that may die if I ever get married is something I don't want to even consider; my dad isn't just my dad he's a close friend and to lose that...well, it'd be sacrifice. Daily I am thankful for the father I have.

I finished listening to Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea by Chelsea Handler on my drive back from VA and let me tell you, it is a worthwhile listen. Get this book on CD if you can; you will be crying laughing while cruise control takes you down the Interstate. Most of the drive to VA was totally lost in the book; I don't remember it being as arduous as it normally is because I was laughing the whole trip. Thanks to my co-worker for buying that for my birthday.

I got back Tuesday evening and immediately changed clothes and started to rip up flooring. I just want the flooring project to be done, I hate it weighing over my head. I hate (strong word but I mean it) half-finished projects, I want them to be complete and not in this pubescent stage in which they are settling. I burned out the motor on Andy's hammer drill so I had to buy him a new one (yay unexpected costs!) to mix the mortar but hopefully by the end of the week all the backerboard will be done and it'll be time to tile this mofo.

I wouldn't ever date an actor no matter how amazing he may be. I wouldn't trust him to be truthful (he is an actor after all) and it would kill me to see him saying loving things or kissing another woman on screen. I don't care if they are lines, it would negate whatever he'd said to me. I'm a jealous type apparently.

Scotch Whiskey + Anything Else = Awesome. Even when “Anything else” includes “Watching old SportsCenter commercials on YouTube”

So that person who came back into my life after five years of being gone? We actually spoke on the phone for the first time and it was like hearing a voice from both a haunting past and the best kind of dreams. I have literally been praying for that voice for five years and to hear it again...well...wow. It was almost to the day that my friend from college died (six years ago...blows my mind how it still stings and how I miss his voice) and it was a lot of ghosts in one phone call because of that. But it was also like an invite into a bouncing castle; I was on air for the rest of the night with thankfulness and hopefulness and joy.

Quizzo without Andrew? Blah. What a terrible idea.

I'm rereading Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell and I love how she loves US History. It makes me even more passionate about it all, and I'm already in the “pick another topic to talk about or you'll never get laid again” sorta category of American history nerdom.

Darts: Not my spiritual gift.

(What's Danny Glover Got To Do With It)

Shoes for Bros

My brother is walking around the house wearing these shoes. I'd like to nominate them for the "awesome or apocalyptic" list. They are more awesome in person.

My Tended Earth

Wow, whadda whirlwind. I drove back to VA last Wednesday, stopping to have dinner with Matt and Megan, two friends I have known literally my entire life (I met Matt when I was five and Megan has been a dear friend since I was 15. I actually introduced the two of them; amazing people) and got to have dinner with Megan out at Brubaker's in Old Town Winchester. I was getting ready to leave when they said, “Just stay! You've been in the car for 7 hours already!” so I did. Great time with lovely friends and their sweet daughters. Finally got to my dad's house on Thursday morning in time to have some quality coffee and Washington Post time with my dad before driving up to Natalie's and then driving her Volvo Cross-Country out to Wegman's for the best lunch one could ever fathom getting at a grocery store. Wegmans=Heavenly experience. If you ever have the chance to go to a Wegmans, just go. Do not ask questions. And of course Natalie somehow has a chunk of my very soul and is one of the people I love most on this planet, so any time at all spent with her is a gift straight from the heavens. Needless to say it was a lovely afternoon. I got home in time for a very quick nap and then shower before delicious BBQ dinner with my dad and uncle. Love meals with bitter old men...makes me feel youthful and optimistic. Then I headed out to Arlington to hop the Metro to the home of the incomparable Emile, a friend I met literally the first night of college; someone I want to figure out a way to have in my life even more. You would do well to have her in your life in any capacity. Sitting out on her front porch in NW, drinking Sierra Nevadas and mocking her pea-sized bladder: it was priceless.

(Emilie and I at the college version of a cocktail party, Fall 2002)

I stayed there Thursday night and got back to my car early enough to not have to pay for my overnight Metro parking (gates are open til 10:30am, holla!) on the way home I dropped my car off to get inspected and piddled around the house while I waited for my car. Once I got it back I drove out to Michelle and Dave's house for an all too brief visit before cutting down Snickersville Turnpike for my trip up the mountain and back to Adventure Links. What a treat that was. I can't tell you how much I love those people. Like my insides literally flipped in joy just hearing their voices. I got a physical ache; these are people who know and love me well. Anna, Austin, Audrey, Autumn, Shelby, Dave and Scott made for the perfect sort of dinner companions and we played some entertaining board games til very late. Leaving there is never easy. I can't believe I've known them for seven years. Anna Birch is a friend to my core. I am so lucky to have her in my world.

(Anna in her natural habitat)

Saturday morning I tried to talk my dad into going out to my sister's house with me but to no avail; I made the hour trek solo to see my older sister and her four (count 'em, four) children and the new house. The house was a DISASTER. I can't blame her, the woman does have four kids and her husband works a lot but still...it reminded me so much of how cluttered my mom was with us and I got immediately angry at it. I hate that I do that; we just have different tastes and different standards (I know I am an EXTREME packrat, but compared to my family I'm SPARSE.). But I did get to see my niece and three nephews, whom I simply love and adore so it was worth it. I don't know how those boys are so genuinely nice...I hope they keep that. I got back from Bubby's and drove straight to my mother's house for a late dinner. Got to see my mom and my little sister and pick up a trunk full of my old stuff which was wonderful. My little sister is growing up and away and it breaks my heart. I got back to my Dad's in time to watch a little TV with him and then go to bed. I slept in on Sunday and took a traditional Spooner Sunday morning, which consists of reading the entire Washington Post Sunday Edition and drinking at least three cups of coffee the consistency of tar. My uncle came over again later in the afternoon and then I went and grabbed my little sister, took her to dinner, came back to dad's, dropped off the beer he asked to pick up then drove the 30 minutes out to South Riding to have drinks with the one-of-a-kind cynicism that is Amber and Mark. Two people I wish lived in Asheville with me: those two. Seriously. I could be so lucky.

So now, 833.7 miles later, I'm finishing up my trip to the VA and heading back south. North Carolina is home now and for the immediate future, but there is something so bittersweet about coming back to an area and a people so intimate to me; it's a watering of the roots in a way. This is my soil, my tended earth, these are the places and the people that made so much of me and I love them unabashedly for that. I am so blessed in every faction of living.

(Speaking of blessed and past: someone who left my life five years ago has very suddenly returned in a very full way. I am ecstatic about this. I've prayed for this person daily for five years; to have them back in the picture in any capacity is tear-inducing. We'll see where that goes in the redux.)