Sunday, Rainy Sunday

Music played on my computer cannot compare to music played on my stereo. And it’s not as if I have a real kick-ass stereo or anything, but still. Anyhoo, I had a craving for U2 after typing in today’s post title, so ... there ya go.

Currently playing: The Best of 1980-1990, with “New Year’s Day” just starting. (Kept hoping to hear this on New Year’s Day but did not, which was quite a disappointment to me.)

An aside: At this writing, I have not listened to U2’s latest album a second time. Yet. Nothing hit me on the first listen-through, and now it is tossed among the chaos of a stack of CDs, somewhere, and I really have not had the urge to get it out and play it again. Though Teresa tells me she enjoys it.

Someday, maybe.

I awoke to rain this a.m., feeling sadder, perhaps, than I have any right to feel over my friend’s doggie. Damn, isn’t grief a funny thing? Not funny ha-ha, but funny strange. All I know of this pooch is that, occasionally, in the midst of chatting with me, my friend would have to bolt for a few minutes to take him for a walk. And sometimes she would return with a brief story about what had happened during their walk, like the night two women with Dutch accents stopped her and her dog to ask for directions.

She sent me a couple of pictures of him, too, along the way. He was a Dalmatian.

The first time I spoke to her on the phone, I did not know she had a dog. And our conversation was rather surreal, the way any convo is when you are actually speaking to someone for the very first time, or also when you are talking to someone with whom you have not spoken for a long, long time, and there are those few seconds or so of awkwardness, and then it melts away (if this is, indeed, a person you have known practically forever) or settles in or something, and the two of you simply talk.

And in the midst of simply talking to this girl, she shouts, “What the FUCK are you doing?” and I’m like, “Huh?!” and she goes on to explain that she is yelling at her dog because he is trying to get into something.

And, as I told her last night, her coolness factor shot straight through the roof in that instant, when I found out she was a dog person. Because, secretly, I think everyone wants to be a dog person. Not that there is anything wrong with being a cat person — I will be the first to admit, I am a life-long cat person and became a dog person during the mid-1980s (thanks to Patti’s Scotty and Cheryl’s Arthur and Kurt’s Fred) and am currently even RELATED to a dog, by marriage ... but truthfully, it goes far deeper than that.

So, this morning, I lifted an AIDS ribbon (“Ju MUST wear zee REE-bone!”) from some Web site out there, did a bit of color revision on it and came up with a little something for Dylan. (And yes, Matthew, I know you have a thing against “zee REE-bones” — as do I, to be perfectly honest! — but somehow, this one makes me smile.) And I hope it makes Jack smile, just a little, and that each day gets a little bit easier for her.

: )

On to brighter topics: I can heartily recommend the nachos fiesta from La Fiesta Restaurant, having just wolfed down a FULL ORDER (said in full-on “Full Moon House, Help You?” tone of voice) of said nachos, with guacomole, without the sorry-assed pale orange tomato tossed on top for effect. (For just what effect I cannot even fathom.) Topped off with a Coke on ice — yeah, my second of the day ... which shows that, no, the Lent thing is not going all that well — and followed with a few bites of chocolate ice cream.

(Gimme a break. It’s Sunday and I’m sad, for goodness sake.)

: )

Got an e-mail from Linford of Over the Rhine earlier this week, and throughout the message, he included this line:

Make sure the people you love know they are loved.

And this morning, whilst thanking God that my friend had her girlfriend by her side as she went through this loss, I decided to start keeping track of what I am thankful for in my simple little life. And hopefully I will remember to remind myself of this, all of this, no matter what comes my way in the days and weeks and, God willing, years ahead.

This is only a start:

— My delightfully dysfunctional family, most especially my sister, who came along barely a year into my life to assure me that I would, indeed, never be alone in this world, and my mother.

— My girlfriend, who believes in me so completely that I know I can never fail ... if only I’d just get busy ...

— My real-time pals and my online pals, and especially those who are real-time AND online pals, by any measure.

— My health (mental AND physical).

— A sense of humor that includes the ability to laugh at myself ... though not always all that loudly ...

: )

— The ability to take words and put them in sentences and occasionally do some good with them.

— The foresight to take a camera with me, always.

— Movies. Music.

More to come ...