Let's get one thing straight: I do not intentionally injure myself! These things just seem to happen to me. I actually stopped skating in the two week lapse that I had between health insurance policies because I KNOW myself. My name is CALAMITY. I am aware of my shortcomings.
So I returned to practice on the 4th of June, three days after my new insurance policy kicked in. 20 minutes into practice during a very fun episode of on-skates dodgeball, I took a knee to slide over and grab a nerf ball to take out some fellow skaters... and slid right into a fence. My skate wheel got caught in the mesh, my leg twisted, my knee... popped. Torn MCL.
So yeah, that part of my life is sucking eggs at the moment, but I guess I should be happy that I've been playing derby as long as I have without any major knee injuries outside of the loss of cartilage behind my kneecaps (minor, I swear). It was apparently my turn to have a crippling knee problem (a staggering 80% of all derby injuries), and as I lie there cursing like a sailor and vehemently denying any sort of EMS involvement, I was incredibly grateful that I listened to my inner girl scout and stayed off skates for two weeks. I've seen a lot of doctors and have now begun PT, but it could've been worse and I could've needed surgery. Instead I have 6-8 weeks of PT recovery. Imagine how in debt I would have instantly become had I needed knee reconstruction. Wow.
I tried hobbling around with a cane for a week and experimented with what it might feel like to be an old woman on the metro transit, needing a little extra help on and off and gratefully accepting seats at the front of the bus. It was humbling. I looked longingly at the youthful girls with their tanned and perfectly functioning knees sitting across from me, and dreaded my stop as it approached... knowing I would have to walk 1/2 a mile to work from my bus stop. Oh yes, it sucks to be a cripple. At least I'm not in a wheelchair.
The best news has happened within this setback, however.
I got a super rad interview and then was offered a super rad job at an art museum!! This has all the potential of being my dream job. I am so absolutely excited that I'm scared to tell anyone for fear of it falling through before I start. It will set me up in many ways and pave the road to a promising career in the arts in a prestigious museum that mainly handles public art projects! I will be able to apply all of my degrees and challenge myself in a multitude of extremely awesome ways such as Curatorial and Art Event Planning, and I couldn't feel luckier. The Executive Director is throwing me a bone and giving me the opportunity to prove myself. I am nervous but very much ready to move on to something that has golden potential. I have given my notice at the Coalition and although I feel a little bad about leaving them in such a short time frame, they remain understanding in light of the other shifts within their organization and recognize that sometimes opportunity knocks.
I feel so lucky right now, and I'm so grateful to be given this chance in the art community. I have been away for so long. I am so glad I didn't give up.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
I stumble
Sometimes I stumble upon things that really touch the center of my being.
This blog post is an important message to me. It has taught me, once again, that the way I am navigating through life is always going to shift and change and morph, that all external values are in constant flux. If I am craving challenge/change/variation/exploration/adventure/excitement, it is mostly due to the inner turmoil and unrest within my own person. I must find a way to "soften into" my own being-accepting all for what it is-instead of constantly wanting more or to do something else. I must learn to be content with now. This realization is not bound simply to physical existence but also to spiritual development. I must be content with who I am inside, who I have become, and who I am becoming. How do I do that?
There is no easy path. Why am I always so lost?
There is no easy path. Why am I always so lost?
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Dog Forgiveness
For reasons unknown, I have a habit of taking on just a little more than is comfortable... overstepping my boundaries by jussst a hair... changing so many variables at once that I can barely tell which way is up...
So, I am starting to "settle" into my new job. I am starting to "settle" into my new place, and all that single living entails. I am starting to get into a routine. So what's the big deal in that? Well... let's just say it didn't take long to take on a little more.
One fine morning, three days after purchasing a Walmart cruiser bike
to commute to work (because my bus commute was ridiculous on the way home and involved multiple transfers), I discovered that my bike had it's first flat tire. As it was too late to catch the morning bus, and as I had just started my new job a week earlier, and worrying about how bad it would look to come in late on my second week, I sprinted out of my apartment in hot pursuit of a different bus line a mile away. As I illegally jaywalked across the street in front of my building, an ex I haven't spoken to in YEARS came driving up. We exchanged hellos, I thanked him for not hitting me, and we each asked how the other was 3 or 4 times. Then he gave me a ride to work. I had time for coffee, even, so we caught up a bit for about 15 minutes. This led to dinner later to get the rest of the very lengthy story that he had to tell about the many, many, events that had transpired since we last spoke. After he gave me a ride home that night, he asked me to dog sit for him. Well... House sit. and Dog sit. He offered me his car to use and gave me gas money. Amazing situation, right?
Until he called me the next day to tell me he had adopted a second dog. Who does that? Who adopts a second dog and then leaves town a week later? This guy. This guy is pretty spontaneous. This guy... well, it doesn't matter. I have no stake in his affairs. I'm just a friend.
It should've been easy. Feed them, play with them, make sure they got lots of love. I discovered what I was in for upon arrival.
The dog immediately peed on the living room floor. Then she tried to chew my shoe. When I took the shoe away, and sat in a dining room chair, she went for the chair leg, my toes, the table leg. This dog was not to be trusted! Very well... the dogs stay outside all day, so I can handle household supervision. I can guard the house. From the dog.
Sophie and I assembled his dining room chairs, which was actually my distraction from being completely pissed and rageful towards the animal. After all, she needs something else to chew on.
The dog turns out to be full of other surprises, a few of them sweet (we took showers together, and played silly games of hide and seek, tag, and learned some tricks). She's cute enough... but cute gets pretty ugly when you zone out for a minute on your laptop and look down to see her gnawing on your $100 Power Cord. I wanted to strangle her. All of those feelings I had in sleep-deprived, puppy-parenting moments with my boy came back to haunt me... the feelings of seeing red and contemplating dog murder. At least when it was MY dog, I knew how much the investment was and his baby cuteness showed through his naughtiness. With this dog, I had no investment. I was furious. I couldn't even look at her. She got a pretty awful scolding, and then went outside for an hour. I had to talk myself into letting her back in the house. I had to pretend I loved her anyways. I had to pretend that she represented unconditional love that I needed to nurture regardless of how ugly I saw her. It was incredibly difficult to let her on the bed that night, but it had to be done or she would have destroyed everything else in the house by sunrise. I had to make amends even though I was right and she was wrong. I had to forgive her.
It was a good lesson. When someone gives you money and a car just to stay at their place and take care of their dog(s), there may be a catch. All of that money went towards gas into town and back and the replacement of my power cord. Was it really worth it, outside of helping out a friend? Questionable.. but I it's nice to help out friends that have helped you out in the past. I think that sometimes it's really weird how people come back into your life randomly when you had just about forgotten them. I would have been late to work but otherwise gone about my routine and my "settling in," but I guess it's kind of nice to have him as a friend again. He has a lot of great stories and a LOT of energy, which is good. He's going to need it for that dog.
Mental note: DO NOT BUY ANOTHER DOG until I'm ready for the inevitable training period that comes attached. It actually made Oscar look pretty good! I miss my boy. I also miss my boyfriend.
So, I am starting to "settle" into my new job. I am starting to "settle" into my new place, and all that single living entails. I am starting to get into a routine. So what's the big deal in that? Well... let's just say it didn't take long to take on a little more.
One fine morning, three days after purchasing a Walmart cruiser bike
Until he called me the next day to tell me he had adopted a second dog. Who does that? Who adopts a second dog and then leaves town a week later? This guy. This guy is pretty spontaneous. This guy... well, it doesn't matter. I have no stake in his affairs. I'm just a friend.
It should've been easy. Feed them, play with them, make sure they got lots of love. I discovered what I was in for upon arrival.
The dog immediately peed on the living room floor. Then she tried to chew my shoe. When I took the shoe away, and sat in a dining room chair, she went for the chair leg, my toes, the table leg. This dog was not to be trusted! Very well... the dogs stay outside all day, so I can handle household supervision. I can guard the house. From the dog.
The dog turns out to be full of other surprises, a few of them sweet (we took showers together, and played silly games of hide and seek, tag, and learned some tricks). She's cute enough... but cute gets pretty ugly when you zone out for a minute on your laptop and look down to see her gnawing on your $100 Power Cord. I wanted to strangle her. All of those feelings I had in sleep-deprived, puppy-parenting moments with my boy came back to haunt me... the feelings of seeing red and contemplating dog murder. At least when it was MY dog, I knew how much the investment was and his baby cuteness showed through his naughtiness. With this dog, I had no investment. I was furious. I couldn't even look at her. She got a pretty awful scolding, and then went outside for an hour. I had to talk myself into letting her back in the house. I had to pretend I loved her anyways. I had to pretend that she represented unconditional love that I needed to nurture regardless of how ugly I saw her. It was incredibly difficult to let her on the bed that night, but it had to be done or she would have destroyed everything else in the house by sunrise. I had to make amends even though I was right and she was wrong. I had to forgive her.
It was a good lesson. When someone gives you money and a car just to stay at their place and take care of their dog(s), there may be a catch. All of that money went towards gas into town and back and the replacement of my power cord. Was it really worth it, outside of helping out a friend? Questionable.. but I it's nice to help out friends that have helped you out in the past. I think that sometimes it's really weird how people come back into your life randomly when you had just about forgotten them. I would have been late to work but otherwise gone about my routine and my "settling in," but I guess it's kind of nice to have him as a friend again. He has a lot of great stories and a LOT of energy, which is good. He's going to need it for that dog.
Mental note: DO NOT BUY ANOTHER DOG until I'm ready for the inevitable training period that comes attached. It actually made Oscar look pretty good! I miss my boy. I also miss my boyfriend.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
The Good, The Bad, and Disco
I used to avoid Disco like the plague (it was right up there with Country). But I have to admit... it grows on you. Now there is something in my soul that stirs when I hear that downbeat of the BeeGees or see a flitter of glitter and sequins. Maybe it alludes to the ancient quest to turn lead into gold... or symbolizes the fountain of youth flowing through smooth, feathered hair and frosted lipstick... but whatever it is, I turned my nose up at it until now.
Now, in the midst of some sort of major tectonic plate shift in my world of ID, my soul strikes a chord with Disco. It isn't trying to be real. It's a dream of soft lighting, sparkle, and curves. A true harmony of suspended belief. It is about love and the seduction of a moment, frozen in time.
My life is the frozen coast of Lake Superior, patiently breathing with the tides and waiting out a Spring thaw. I am Disco, on the brink of a new direction. I am not the birth of Rock and Roll, I am not Synthetic 80's pop or stinky, raw Grunge. I am sexy hotpants on their last night out before they are retired to the closet. I have nothing to lose.
Enough with saucy metaphors.
I got the job with the non-profit to advocate for tobacco-free legislation and enforcement. I'm going to be a full-time employee with full benefits and paid vacation. I also found an apartment for a pretty good rate in town that has a dated, early 70's feel. I will finally be independent and free from roommates. I will be on my own for what feels like the first time (I know it's not true... I've been on my own for a while, but somehow this feels different).
I just went through a major issue regarding my current job and a derby tournament that I trained and fundraised for for months-I had received an approval to go to the tournament months ago, but I asked the wrong person. It ended up being not an issue of whether or not there was work for me to do, but a matter of being there in case something went wrong. I didn't go to the derby tournament in favor of keeping my job. It was the first time I have ever felt that my job was more important than derby.
I also managed to salvage my relationship with my boyfriend by the skin of my teeth through this (there are some overlaps that are kind of complex), perhaps more due to patience and some hard work on both of our parts to see the other's perspective. It was hairy. I actually packed two suitcases, thinking I was going to be kicked out. I don't know exactly how the whole thing patched up, but I think it might have something to do with both of us coming to the realization that we love and need each other. It's both upsetting and wonderful. I'm internally at peace with knowing that I depend on him for companionship and horrified that I am admitting that. I guess we all learn about ourselves as we go?
Much like Disco is dependent on John Travolta and it's eventual death, I am dependent on the love and respect of this man that is moody, difficult, and brilliant. He is the smartest person I know and I can't imagine my life without him in it. I guess that's how I know he's the one for me-honestly, who else could I talk to about Alchemy, Resurrection Deities, and the archetypal pattern of all human behavior, then find bliss holding his hand as we take a walk at dusk? I just don't think anyone else like him exists, and I can't risk losing him to find out just to go to a roller derby tournament. My perspective must have changed.
The best part of a really bad argument is the peace that comes with resolve. I am happy to at least grow from each painful transition and look forward to May when my metamorphosis really takes place. God damn, I think I've grown up! Scary.
Now, in the midst of some sort of major tectonic plate shift in my world of ID, my soul strikes a chord with Disco. It isn't trying to be real. It's a dream of soft lighting, sparkle, and curves. A true harmony of suspended belief. It is about love and the seduction of a moment, frozen in time.
My life is the frozen coast of Lake Superior, patiently breathing with the tides and waiting out a Spring thaw. I am Disco, on the brink of a new direction. I am not the birth of Rock and Roll, I am not Synthetic 80's pop or stinky, raw Grunge. I am sexy hotpants on their last night out before they are retired to the closet. I have nothing to lose.
Enough with saucy metaphors.
I got the job with the non-profit to advocate for tobacco-free legislation and enforcement. I'm going to be a full-time employee with full benefits and paid vacation. I also found an apartment for a pretty good rate in town that has a dated, early 70's feel. I will finally be independent and free from roommates. I will be on my own for what feels like the first time (I know it's not true... I've been on my own for a while, but somehow this feels different).
I just went through a major issue regarding my current job and a derby tournament that I trained and fundraised for for months-I had received an approval to go to the tournament months ago, but I asked the wrong person. It ended up being not an issue of whether or not there was work for me to do, but a matter of being there in case something went wrong. I didn't go to the derby tournament in favor of keeping my job. It was the first time I have ever felt that my job was more important than derby.
I also managed to salvage my relationship with my boyfriend by the skin of my teeth through this (there are some overlaps that are kind of complex), perhaps more due to patience and some hard work on both of our parts to see the other's perspective. It was hairy. I actually packed two suitcases, thinking I was going to be kicked out. I don't know exactly how the whole thing patched up, but I think it might have something to do with both of us coming to the realization that we love and need each other. It's both upsetting and wonderful. I'm internally at peace with knowing that I depend on him for companionship and horrified that I am admitting that. I guess we all learn about ourselves as we go?
Much like Disco is dependent on John Travolta and it's eventual death, I am dependent on the love and respect of this man that is moody, difficult, and brilliant. He is the smartest person I know and I can't imagine my life without him in it. I guess that's how I know he's the one for me-honestly, who else could I talk to about Alchemy, Resurrection Deities, and the archetypal pattern of all human behavior, then find bliss holding his hand as we take a walk at dusk? I just don't think anyone else like him exists, and I can't risk losing him to find out just to go to a roller derby tournament. My perspective must have changed.
The best part of a really bad argument is the peace that comes with resolve. I am happy to at least grow from each painful transition and look forward to May when my metamorphosis really takes place. God damn, I think I've grown up! Scary.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Calm Before the Storm?
Life is a tightrope walk, delicately poised above a smoldering lava pit. One small gust of wind may whisk me to the inferno...
I have shipped Mr. Piggles to MN for the companionship he deserves, with his loving grandparents. Although it was pretty straightforward in the send-off, I had a hell of a time with it at home. It created a lot of domestic disturbance and I was almost cast out, all because I wanted a hug. I may never understand men. Since I do not understand women (myself included sometimes), that means I will have to conclude I don't understand people. Sending off my dog was really hard. He was my security blanket. Perhaps us women think we are entitled to consoling when we undergo a major trauma... but I have a hard time believing that a man wouldn't also expect consoling in a troubled time. Do men need emotional support? It was my understanding that ALL human beings needed it. Perhaps I am mistaken.
I need to find a place to live in May and another job, since this one ends and this living situation must end as well. Every time I talk to my dad, he is chuckling about yet ANOTHER interesting kink and turn in my road. It's flabbergasting that I can even function emotionally. What helps is to look at all of the mentally unstable, homeless people in Chinatown. They remind me that I've got it pretty damned good. In better news, I have a job interview tomorrow for an interesting advocacy coordinator position with a nonprofit I actually care about, and I'm curious about what they have in mind. I am somewhat excited and simultaneously wary. I guess it's better to go in optimistic. In best news, I was named the game MVP for Saturday's bout, and I'm slowly getting into the groove of work and derby. It's been a pain in the ass, but I think all of that is starting to come together.
When times get tricky, you are forced to make sacrifices. I have left a trail of belongings from MN to NC to MN to HNL to LIH to HNL, and now I have dug my toes into the dirt and will be DAMNED if I lose my footing in May.
Dog-gone it.
Pun intended.
I am perfectly aware that everyone has struggles in their life creating chaos, and I am trying my best to quell the storm before it destroys my house. I am a peacemaker, not a flipping drama queen. I am acutely aware, however, that I cannot control the actions of others and whether or not they choose to be emotionally available. I am a living daily newspaper, my headlines constantly shifting, my news sometimes bad sometimes good, my weather cloudy then sunny then full of tornadoes. I am still resolved to practice my zen ways of living in the moment, perpetually caught in a present state, tracing a circle of breath through my nose, into my belly, and out my mouth. I am not going to scream. Yet.
I have shipped Mr. Piggles to MN for the companionship he deserves, with his loving grandparents. Although it was pretty straightforward in the send-off, I had a hell of a time with it at home. It created a lot of domestic disturbance and I was almost cast out, all because I wanted a hug. I may never understand men. Since I do not understand women (myself included sometimes), that means I will have to conclude I don't understand people. Sending off my dog was really hard. He was my security blanket. Perhaps us women think we are entitled to consoling when we undergo a major trauma... but I have a hard time believing that a man wouldn't also expect consoling in a troubled time. Do men need emotional support? It was my understanding that ALL human beings needed it. Perhaps I am mistaken.
I need to find a place to live in May and another job, since this one ends and this living situation must end as well. Every time I talk to my dad, he is chuckling about yet ANOTHER interesting kink and turn in my road. It's flabbergasting that I can even function emotionally. What helps is to look at all of the mentally unstable, homeless people in Chinatown. They remind me that I've got it pretty damned good. In better news, I have a job interview tomorrow for an interesting advocacy coordinator position with a nonprofit I actually care about, and I'm curious about what they have in mind. I am somewhat excited and simultaneously wary. I guess it's better to go in optimistic. In best news, I was named the game MVP for Saturday's bout, and I'm slowly getting into the groove of work and derby. It's been a pain in the ass, but I think all of that is starting to come together.
When times get tricky, you are forced to make sacrifices. I have left a trail of belongings from MN to NC to MN to HNL to LIH to HNL, and now I have dug my toes into the dirt and will be DAMNED if I lose my footing in May.
Dog-gone it.
Pun intended.
I am perfectly aware that everyone has struggles in their life creating chaos, and I am trying my best to quell the storm before it destroys my house. I am a peacemaker, not a flipping drama queen. I am acutely aware, however, that I cannot control the actions of others and whether or not they choose to be emotionally available. I am a living daily newspaper, my headlines constantly shifting, my news sometimes bad sometimes good, my weather cloudy then sunny then full of tornadoes. I am still resolved to practice my zen ways of living in the moment, perpetually caught in a present state, tracing a circle of breath through my nose, into my belly, and out my mouth. I am not going to scream. Yet.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Bad Dog Mom
Let's take a little glimpse of the past few weeks in my world:
Work is incredibly chaotic, with waves of constituent concerns pouring in over the phone, email, and through the door. I am fielding all of them with mixed results whilst simultaneously trying to maintain my composure. As I calmly listen to a repeat-caller tell me about his need for a colon hydrotherapy bill to be heard by the committee, my partially deaf co-worker is handling bill collection and hearings procedures... and since he still thinks he's a lobbyist, he has a constant stream of people coming in to talk story or just hang out. Meanwhile, several different hearings are being broadcast on the overhead television and I'm trying to pay attention to when they go into recess so I can alert my Senator by text message that he must now wrap up his meeting in his office to go in for decision-making. I don't really know how it all works, but somehow by the end of the day I have merged three different schedules into an email itinerary for the next day, made calls to banks, the DOH and the DLNR about constituent issues, filed reports, collected signatures of Senators, and coordinated info briefings. If it seems like a lot, it is. Am I totally complaining? No. I really don't mind the work. In fact, I really like the controlled chaos. There is an artful finesse to balancing so many odd tasks and loose ends. When I finish compiling the schedule for the following day, I spend a good 10 minutes scouring through hearing notices and triple-checking schedules. Inevitably, I miss something. It happens. But you know... it's really satisfying to leave work knowing that I've managed to get almost all of the ducks in a row for the morning without too many casualties. I feel good about it.
Trying to get all of those ducks aligned in time to catch my carpool to derby practice has proved to be a tremendous challenge. Often I get to work thinking it will be a slow day, only to discover that something major is going to happen around 2pm that will make it impossible to leave my desk long enough to run down the hall and pee, and any chance of leaving before 630-7 is absolutely out of the question. I've only been able to coordinate seeing my dog on Saturdays. Work has completely consumed me.
I believe I may have taken on more than I can chew with derby this time around... NOT because I wasn't ready or equipped to handle the additional responsibility, but because I cannot handle it during this legislative session. I am crossing my fingers that no one starts complaining about my lack of league participation; tonight I worked an 11 hour day for the second day in a row. I missed league practice last night, a GM meeting for derby tonight. I know that's not good. I sense the silence of my co-chair and coach as being entirely related to my absence. But I can't change it right now... career comes first. Luckily I know that my coach recognizes my need to set down roots so that I can stick around past May. I don't think he would be as understanding were I a new recruit or a mediocre skater. I think he knows I'm trying to find the balance between work and play. I'll find it... I just need a little more time.
In addition to the work drama and the derby drama, I currently also have DOG drama. The couple that I've been paying to watch my dog while I work Session and live in a dog-free building had a major break-up last weekend. Consequently, the girl tried to commit suicide with an overdose, causing the guy to ship her on a plane back to her parents on the mainland. He then decided to move back to the mainland himself this weekend.
This obviously puts my dog and myself in a serious dilemma. Strangely enough (and I'm a bit put-off by it, but oh well), the girl placed a craigslist ad without telling me for a new foster situation for my dog... BEFORE the guy had told me he was leaving Hawaii in a week. I got an email response from a woman who is now watching my dog, as I discovered when I paid a visit that the dog wasn't receiving his meds. The poor pooch was covered in hives and sores, had a horrible ear infection, and bloody paws. Jesus. I was paying these people to watch him, when really, the guy had focused his attention elsewhere (and I am sympathetic to his stress, but come on). I think the couple were good with the dog until their personal life crumbled... but due to the circumstances, I yanked my dog out of the apartment and placed him immediately with random strangers that I had barely talked to. She and her disabled husband happen to be wonderful dog people and are taking extra good care of him now, but in light of the whole debacle, I have decided to fly my dog back to my parents. I can't handle any more drama involving that dog. I love him, but he's tricky and Hawaii is tricky to find accommodations that aren't in the heart of Kalihi. It's just too many strikes and not enough time to find a good setup.
So this random couple is helping me to get my dog to the vet tomorrow to get an updated health certificate so that I can fly him on the ONLY airline out of 10 that I called (all but 1 don't allow his breed anymore on any airline. Only Alaskan) back to MN to live with my parents. I think my mom and dad are excited to help and love him, but I feel a great amount of guilt for putting the responsibility of his care upon them.
I don't like admitting defeat. Right now, I have to stare it in the face.
I just can't handle the dog right now and give him the care and attention he deserves. Sadly for me, I know he will be happier back with my parents. After 7 years of dog care, I am a failed dog-mom. Surely this means I would be an unfit mother... aren't dogs the test-baby? Sigh.
This may be one of those regrets in life that I reflect back on in 10 years, but right now, I have to do it. I can't put him to the Humane Society because I know what will happen. I know my dog has red flags. I also know what he is capable of giving with his heart. With that in mind, I'm forking out the same amount it would cost to fly me to MN round trip, just to ensure that my furry son is safely back with a loving family that will give him the good life he deserves. I feel very fortunate to have such kick-ass parents right now. I also feel fortunate to have the support of my sister and brother, who know I'm busting my ass out here to try and make things work and are reaching out to let me know that they think my decision is okay.
Sometimes I DO have a lot of drama in my life. I know it's a lot at the moment. I just don't know if it's entirely my doing, is all.
Work is incredibly chaotic, with waves of constituent concerns pouring in over the phone, email, and through the door. I am fielding all of them with mixed results whilst simultaneously trying to maintain my composure. As I calmly listen to a repeat-caller tell me about his need for a colon hydrotherapy bill to be heard by the committee, my partially deaf co-worker is handling bill collection and hearings procedures... and since he still thinks he's a lobbyist, he has a constant stream of people coming in to talk story or just hang out. Meanwhile, several different hearings are being broadcast on the overhead television and I'm trying to pay attention to when they go into recess so I can alert my Senator by text message that he must now wrap up his meeting in his office to go in for decision-making. I don't really know how it all works, but somehow by the end of the day I have merged three different schedules into an email itinerary for the next day, made calls to banks, the DOH and the DLNR about constituent issues, filed reports, collected signatures of Senators, and coordinated info briefings. If it seems like a lot, it is. Am I totally complaining? No. I really don't mind the work. In fact, I really like the controlled chaos. There is an artful finesse to balancing so many odd tasks and loose ends. When I finish compiling the schedule for the following day, I spend a good 10 minutes scouring through hearing notices and triple-checking schedules. Inevitably, I miss something. It happens. But you know... it's really satisfying to leave work knowing that I've managed to get almost all of the ducks in a row for the morning without too many casualties. I feel good about it.
Trying to get all of those ducks aligned in time to catch my carpool to derby practice has proved to be a tremendous challenge. Often I get to work thinking it will be a slow day, only to discover that something major is going to happen around 2pm that will make it impossible to leave my desk long enough to run down the hall and pee, and any chance of leaving before 630-7 is absolutely out of the question. I've only been able to coordinate seeing my dog on Saturdays. Work has completely consumed me.
I believe I may have taken on more than I can chew with derby this time around... NOT because I wasn't ready or equipped to handle the additional responsibility, but because I cannot handle it during this legislative session. I am crossing my fingers that no one starts complaining about my lack of league participation; tonight I worked an 11 hour day for the second day in a row. I missed league practice last night, a GM meeting for derby tonight. I know that's not good. I sense the silence of my co-chair and coach as being entirely related to my absence. But I can't change it right now... career comes first. Luckily I know that my coach recognizes my need to set down roots so that I can stick around past May. I don't think he would be as understanding were I a new recruit or a mediocre skater. I think he knows I'm trying to find the balance between work and play. I'll find it... I just need a little more time.
In addition to the work drama and the derby drama, I currently also have DOG drama. The couple that I've been paying to watch my dog while I work Session and live in a dog-free building had a major break-up last weekend. Consequently, the girl tried to commit suicide with an overdose, causing the guy to ship her on a plane back to her parents on the mainland. He then decided to move back to the mainland himself this weekend.
This obviously puts my dog and myself in a serious dilemma. Strangely enough (and I'm a bit put-off by it, but oh well), the girl placed a craigslist ad without telling me for a new foster situation for my dog... BEFORE the guy had told me he was leaving Hawaii in a week. I got an email response from a woman who is now watching my dog, as I discovered when I paid a visit that the dog wasn't receiving his meds. The poor pooch was covered in hives and sores, had a horrible ear infection, and bloody paws. Jesus. I was paying these people to watch him, when really, the guy had focused his attention elsewhere (and I am sympathetic to his stress, but come on). I think the couple were good with the dog until their personal life crumbled... but due to the circumstances, I yanked my dog out of the apartment and placed him immediately with random strangers that I had barely talked to. She and her disabled husband happen to be wonderful dog people and are taking extra good care of him now, but in light of the whole debacle, I have decided to fly my dog back to my parents. I can't handle any more drama involving that dog. I love him, but he's tricky and Hawaii is tricky to find accommodations that aren't in the heart of Kalihi. It's just too many strikes and not enough time to find a good setup.
So this random couple is helping me to get my dog to the vet tomorrow to get an updated health certificate so that I can fly him on the ONLY airline out of 10 that I called (all but 1 don't allow his breed anymore on any airline. Only Alaskan) back to MN to live with my parents. I think my mom and dad are excited to help and love him, but I feel a great amount of guilt for putting the responsibility of his care upon them.
I don't like admitting defeat. Right now, I have to stare it in the face.
I just can't handle the dog right now and give him the care and attention he deserves. Sadly for me, I know he will be happier back with my parents. After 7 years of dog care, I am a failed dog-mom. Surely this means I would be an unfit mother... aren't dogs the test-baby? Sigh.
This may be one of those regrets in life that I reflect back on in 10 years, but right now, I have to do it. I can't put him to the Humane Society because I know what will happen. I know my dog has red flags. I also know what he is capable of giving with his heart. With that in mind, I'm forking out the same amount it would cost to fly me to MN round trip, just to ensure that my furry son is safely back with a loving family that will give him the good life he deserves. I feel very fortunate to have such kick-ass parents right now. I also feel fortunate to have the support of my sister and brother, who know I'm busting my ass out here to try and make things work and are reaching out to let me know that they think my decision is okay.
Sometimes I DO have a lot of drama in my life. I know it's a lot at the moment. I just don't know if it's entirely my doing, is all.
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