Forgotten But Not Gone
...or something. I forget.
Yes, I have been under a rock for a while. Thanks for asking.
It’s been a strange handful of weeks with a few changes but mostly… shit is still the same. I guess I am popping up here to say hi, give a little love and break the seal to get things moving again.
My last post was a repost in memory of one of my closest friends on this journey we call life, Grace. She served her time and has moved on to that place where good dogs go when they are done with our human bullshit.
I did a repost because it was a bit hard to process at the time. She was not my dog, but she was made a massive doggo impact in my life at a time when I needed that doggo energy.
Good girl.
Now, my little girl Luna ain’t so fucking little anymore.
Her first birthday is next weekend and she’s sitting at 75 pounds (a little over 5 stone for some of you.) of pure herp and derpness. A far cry from the 6.5 pounds (…again for you purists, almost 3 kilos.) she weighed in at when I bought her like a bag of weed at a truck stop parking lot in Casa Grande.
She doesn’t understand her size to velocity ratio, she has a sensitive stomach and gets the Hershey squirts if she even looks at something she shouldn’t eat, she loses all self control when the leaves start blowing around the yard, she has vendetta with the cactus wren teens that live in the saguaro in our back yard… and she has brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined.
Oh…
She also has a new friend… Ladies and gents, may I present…
Ziggy Pickles.
As much as I would like to take credit for the name, because it is absolutely fucking epic, that credit goes to my dearest partner. She has a knack for shit like that.
He gets all the attention in public because he’s a cute fucking pug, that’s a given.
But once you say his name… people fucking lose it.
It’s especially fun at the vet when they come out and call his name. People look at us like we are with a fucking rock star. They whisper to each other and stare with anticipation in hopes that he might acknowledge their presence.
Which he does. He doesn’t hold it together well. He likes the attention. He also likes snacks. All the snacks.
Together they are mayhem, but they adore each other. It’s like they came out of the same womb. These are my children. This is the life I have chosen. I’ll take the barf and dog hair carpet over diapers any fucking day.
Another massive change, well, at least for me is that I have finally distanced my way from Spotify.
This has been a struggle after a long standing relationship with that beast. Sometimes it’s just hard to let go no matter how fucking toxic a relationship is. So much time invested, you get comfortable, familiar feels safe… you know the drill. But after a long conversation with myself as someone who has always supported musicians the best I can, and even though my alternative choices may not be that much better, the glaring truth is that Spotify is a fucking monster.
So… for better or for worse I made the move to Apple to keep my playlists and yadda yadda, Youtube Music and of course Soundcloud and Bandcamp.
Now, I am still making the transition to get links where they properly belong. This is a process so don’t give me no shit!
Currently I am on this French garage rock kick with bands like Dynamite Shakers. You should too. Makes you wanna smoke cigarettes and drink red wine whilst sporting leather pants. I don’t do any of those things anymore… searches for leather pants on ebay.
Next week I will be having some major mouth surgery which I am not looking forward to whatsoever. I mean, I get a few days off, I’m going to get high as fuck and I get to eat ice cream as a meal.
Not so terrible, right?
It’s been a long time coming, and as much as I hate anything to do with a skilled stranger sticking their fingers and power tools in my face hole, I am looking forward to some relief once it’s over.
My dental history has been a rocky one and with this new adventure next week I will have a sort of new lease on my oral existence.
That really doesn’t sound right in so many ways.
So I will have some free time to write some bullshit and hopefully get back out here after my “garbage person” incident. Yeah… I’m still getting over that shit.
Keep smiling you beautiful meat bags.
As a dog lover since I popped out of the womb, one of the quotes that it gives me--someone who's not a fan of Hallmark bullshit--some comfort is, "'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all." I've lost a number of dogs in my life; some fast, some slow, one very traumatic death right in front of my eyes, and yet still, I do it again. Your Luna origin story reminds me of that of my late, great,125 pound German Shepherd, who saved my life more than once. I bought him for five bucks off a kid in South Tucson, and when I got home, he threw up a red tamale- including the olive!
Glad you rememberer