Have you ever seen a movie where an ex-junkie, now reformed and living a normal life in everyday company falls completely, totally, utterly off the wagon and goes on a heroin and cocaine fueled binge that only stops when they wake up, three days later, disoriented and not knowing where they are, usually someplace like Neasden?
Okay, now picture that, but with dogs.
So I thought I was doing okay with the no dogs in my life thing, ya know, you get used to not having a small furry to trip over. But this morning I went to a "meet and greet" with the local greyhound rescue group and spent two glorious hours surrounded by needlenosed ex-racers. And I am totally out of my gourd for a dog. It's all I talk about. I am covered in dog fur, as God and nature intended, and even if I don't end up with a greyt, I'm so gaga for a puppy that I may actually do someone physical harm if I don't get dog.
Which, naturally, has led me to reflect on my life. One of the women I work with is contemplating buying a house with her nearly-fiancee who just joined the Navy, all the while making fabulous reproduction period fashions and eventually going back to school for a master's degree in historical design. And she's 22. I, on the other hand, have cul-de-sac'd here in Williamsburg. Don't get me wrong, I still love it here. I love the history, the costumes, the people, the two kinds of roaches. I'm so grateful to have a full-time job in this economy, with health insurance, and I'm looking forward to moving into an apartment that has both a kitchen and private bathroom. But I'm not using my degree, I'm not even writing very much anymore. Without any pressure to produce written words--either for a class or other public consumption--I've just sort of drifted away from it. The Goals of my Life include A) getting a dog and, uh, B) well, that's pretty much it.
I feel like I'm not building on anything I've done. Other people my age are buying houses, building lasting relationships with members of the opposite sex, demanding higher wages, raising children, and saving the planet. I'm not leaving so much as a footprint on this world. My colleage noted how "lucky" I was to be able to pack up and move anytime I wanted--I wanted to shake her and say "no, for once in my life I'd really LIKE to have some things tying me to a particular area, person, anything that stops me from picking up and moving." I'd really like to buy a house, raise children, publish a novel, maybe even, ya know, get married, but that just doesn't seem to be happening. People keep telling me I need to move back to London. I wish it were that simple.
So I'm going to get a dog. And that will be what I do.
I didn't mean for this to be a depressing post...I'm afraid I've got the hypo today, even though I spent the morning with puppies and in a few minutes I'm going to go get a wasabi (wasabiii! hyah!) veggie roll. I think I'm just lonely and reflective. I need to meet more people. Next week is going to be fun: I'm finally going to get to train for the military programs so next Thursday I'll be learning how to fire a black powder musket. And we all know what happens next: that's right, breeches. Jealous? Oh yeah.
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3 comments:
Okay. Dutch uncle time (whatever that is.) Sure, there are things you don't have - things and relationships. But that doesn't mean you will NEVER have them. And I'll tell ya, my friend, you will never have everything you want. I have two Emmy awards, and I'd trade 'em both for a Tony. You know how that goes ...
On the other hand, you have something that can't be earned, and that's talent. I've read part of one of your plays, and - of course - your posts. You are truly gifted, you challenge me constantly ... in other words, you're not bad at all.
Everything else will come to you (I want it NOW!)
On the other hand ... you're not writing? To give you incentive, I'm sending 300 people to ask you where the bathrooms are.
Be warned.
I agree with Jack Bunny...you will never really have everything you want...but you know what? You're leading a pretty damn exciting live. I long to settle down somewhere too. But my alter ego is eager to go country and continenant hopping at the same time. I have a steady job with benefits that uses my degree, but I'm not feeling challenged. I'm living in Hawaii for crying out loud and I want to head back to the frigid world of Chicago!
I hear you on the dog. I miss the warm fuzzy...nothing screams home like a dog to come home too...even when you are up and moving every few years. Dogs are constant...
You'll figure things out. We're all talented survivors.
(and I give the practically engaged naval couple five years...especially if he's stuck on a boat...three years of six months tours...yeah...there are lots of bitter divorced YOUNG naval men at Pearl Harbor and most of them started at Norfolk or San Diego with the wife and house and lost it when the women realized a life with the man at sea ain't the married life they expected...)
As much as I want you to get your puppy I wish you wouldn't find anything to tie you down to one place until AFTER you come visit me and it is so beautiful here in the summer I wish you were here now. We could go camping on the beach by the Black sea for almost free!
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