Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Dog sitting



This is Ruben and he needs a home. I wish superdooper bad that he could find a home here but for too many reasons to list I just cant keep him.

Maybe I will list a few reasons because I feel guilty pimping him out on the internet. First of all my marriage is too new to risk exposing it to the full power of my will. From what I understand people survive in·den·ture·ship by learning to com·pro·mise, a concept that is fairly new to my vocabulary.

Rolling about in grass joy

Clark and I have already reserved a golden retriever puppy from a breeder in Wyoming. The bun is still in the oven. (that right! we are pregnant!!) The puppy is due around the 10th of December and will probably be coming home around mid-February.

We went the privileged papered dog route while love-starved dogs languish in shelters and humane societies all over the country. I can't tell you how much this bothers me. But Clark is a duck hunter and wants and says he needs a retriever who is bred for hunting. I suspect the incomprehensible things I need are fairly complex and deeply entwined with my sense of well-being, so I let this one go.

This time...

Squirrel breach

Even if I could win the battle I have decided not to launch I am simply not prepared to have two large dogs in my house, along with a cat, two frogs, 57 plants and an every other weekend step-daughter. I don't think I could manage that much living under this roof.

Anyway! Enough about my guilt. Ruben is one of the sweetest dogs I have ever met. I am keeping (read: falling in love with) him while Sascha and I search for a suitable home. And while I wont adopt him myself I promise to take care of him until we are able to find him a safe loving family.



Ruben is a four year old rott/lab mix. He is a very affectionate, intelligent and playful dog. He doesn't seem to have much of a protective instinct at all, that is, he never ever barks at any perceived intrusion. However I wouldn't underestimate the deterrent factor of a Rottweiler if you were hoping for a home security in a dog. He is not in the least bit aggressive and only looked distressed when Willie shoved her face into his food bowl while he was eating and after the third time she violated him in under five minutes he let out only the faintest grumble. His curiosity and desire for approval will make him easy to train. He is totally beautiful and infinitely fallinloveable.

Overwhelming cuteness

I am deadseriously looking for a good home for this dog. He is living with me until Sascha or I is able to find someone we trust to keep him.

asiakennan at yahoo dot com

Email serious inquiries only otherwise go ahead and comment about how adorable he is.

Monday, October 22, 2007

On curly hair

I went out with a few Tequilacon bloggers on Thursday night without my camera, but I did bring the legal pad and have it still in my possession which trumps any blurry photographic evidence of the evening. On Friday mornings review of the written plans for TC08 all the memories came rushing back, most vividly the ones most faded from the later hours.

Last call at the Bonfire Lounge every remaining blogger had curly hair, EXCEPT APPARENTLY ME and sat around sipping whiskey over candlelight congratulating themselves for having curly hair WHICH IS SOMETHING APPARENTLY I DONT HAVE. I was soundly shushed from commiseration and mocked for nodding knowingly.

MY HAIR IS EASILY AS CURLY AS BRANDONS EVEN LONG AND UNDER A STRAIGHTENING WEIGHT. ITS THE WEIGHT DAMNNIT!

I won a weak and patronizing concession to my protestations and feeling deeply the sting of rejection and scorn came up with the awesomist idea for TC08 so far... A PERM SCHOLARSHIP. It is right there on MY legal pad so it must have been my idea.

Maybe now, finally the rest of us might know how they live, how they love and how they suffer... and maybe for a brief and shining moment be welcomed into their inner circle.

Maybe...

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Out with the old name in with the new

Okay Roy, it really isn't that bad of a picture but it is hard to not pick it apart.

License photo
Me today, a married woman with bad hair. What was I thinking that day? Frizz is so in...oh yeah, dont forget to stick your chin out and smirk!


Old license photo
Me four years ago

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Seriously, Ouch!

Juice

My legs are a little stiff. Not running for two and a half months seems to have rather unprepared me for the physical exertion of a full marathon. I am ice massaging knots in my legs, big boulders of wounded and resentful muscle. I brought home flowers for my legs and wrote them poems about love. On the upside my ankle seems only slightly puffy. In a week or so I should be able to start running more reasonable recovery distances like a mile or two and then farther and farther and dammit FARTHER. Soon.

Juice pulp

I still miss Edison like crazy. Its funny, one day after about three weeks of grieving I woke up and felt like myself and concurrent with that feeling it seemed like he went from Present to Past and that meant he was Gone Forever. I have a little memorial table next to my computer: his ashes, paw print, the bow tie he wore at my wedding and his leash and his heart shaped biscuits and a few candles and a lot of pictures and they were there to keep him here now they are here to remind me that he was here. During those three weeks I was so terrified to let him go into the past, to have him be something that Was but MY GOD that is the most futile struggle. Isn't it?

Edison Memorial

Recently everything has been reconfigured in my mind like from above I can see all the angles, how the light split in a way that confused me from below, or even worse in a way that I never considered should be curious to me.

Cat table

And I get it! these roles we play in each others lives as adults, as children and as children who have assumed the roles of adults. Most significantly I feel the steady march of life, the inevitability of life moving toward death, always, and they say toward life again. I get smaller every day and life just gets bigger and bigger.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Portland Marathon 2007

It didn't rain at all and I didn't walk. I ran for the first time in two and a half months and I ran the whole course... except for the three times I stopped to wait in line for a porta-potty... and now and then I walked a few yards.

Earl Blumenauer

I didn't know I was going to run a marathon today until I did it. I didn't know I was even going to try running until I got to the start line ten minutes after the starting gun in the slow moving crowd.

mile 12

It was nice to not feel the pressure of having a goal to achieve, I mean, other then finishing and walking away. There was no pressure to set a personal record because what chance I had got drunk and wobbled on its strappy heel hugging a drag queen those 11 weeks ago.

St Johns Bridge

My musical timing was impeccable. The Pointer Sisters singing "I'm So Excited" at the foot of the St Johns Bridge, the worst hill on the relatively flat course. I passed every aching soul on that stretch.

Mile 20

On the up ramp to the Steel Bridge just a weary mile and a half from the finish line my spirit was flagging. I almost considered walking the rest of the way to the finish line. After all, I reasoned, I set out to walk in the first place so what is the shame in walking the last mile?

NEVER! I responded out loud. At that same moment Eye Of The Tiger (Survivor) cued up and with a little more wind I ran tall on my fastest mile yet, the last mile.

Steel Bridge

I finished the race in 5:00:59, one hour, fifteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds short of the time I set out training for back in January.

almost over

Oh well. At least I got myself another medal, and even after 26.2 miles can still dance a pretty decent jig on these tired legs.

As far as the ankle? Well, we'll see. It seems fine for now.

Saturday, October 06, 2007

It is gonna rain the whole time I bet...

I was totally crossing my fingers when mine was the first named called and tighter till there was no blood in the tips when they said Tom would be my partner for the scavenger hunt. I was like, DAH! DAMN cursecurse but smiled brightly. We took our clue outside into the blue finger twilight and started puzzling away. Naturally we were the fastest on bikes on the fastest bikes and naturally we made easy small talk having a lot in common as sworn enemies often do.

-------------------------------------------

Oh gosh, we won. It was fun.

Tomorrow is the marathon. I am counting down from now 12 hours, 29 minutes and 6 seconds until the starting gun. Though it isn't very exciting only being able to walk I am still going to count the seconds down instead of telling you the rest of this story.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Ride The Rogue + Death

At the lunch rest stop on my recent century bike ride with my dad I heard from another rider that a man had suffered a heart attack around mile 14 and that he had died. Later in the day a volunteer at a different rest stop told me she had not heard whether the man had lived or died but confirmed that a rider had indeed had a heart attack.

I decided to not post anything about the incident because not only had I heard only rumors, but also because I never did see any ambulances or ride through any commotion, deathly or otherwise. Long distance bicycle rides tend to have an open start line and people begin riding when they are ready to ride within that half hour to hour long window. Chances are I was ahead of the rider who did or did not die and so did never see him dying or not dying.

I am only writing about it now because I have been getting several visitors a day who find this blog by Googling "Ride The Rogue Death" or "Ride The Rogue Man Dies" or something of that general nature. When I got home that weekend I too checked the web and the websites of all the local papers for some word about what happened and nothing nothing nothing came up. So I never mentioned it. It is apparent to me now that someone may have actually suffered a fatal heart attack, either that or we all heard the same rumor at lunch from some bastard wearing tight black shorts.

I cant really say that dying on a bike is better or worse then dying any other way. I suspect my judgment would be unfounded. I don't know anything about dying except that it is what we all do anyway and are all doing all the time. The day was lovely for dying, as well as for living. And that is my insipid platitude on the matter.

I don't know anything more about the mysterious heart attacked dier, if he died as alleged or if he survived. Maybe you can enlighten me. My condolences to his friends and family if that is the case. It is never easy to lose someone you love.

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