rebecca_in_blue: (worried eyes)
I had to wake up at 3:30 this morning to open for Black Friday. And instead of taking a nap when I got home, I've been putting up our tree. Something always seems to go wrong when I do this (see here). This year, it needs new lights.

Today, November 23, I would've had Sable for 16 years. (This day last year is back here.) I can't believe he's been gone for eight months already. I still really miss that dog. I have one of my favorite photos of him on the refrigerator, and with words from Sara's magnetic poetry set, I wrote on it, "Take warmth, feel better." That is my prayer for Sable -- that wherever he is now, he is warm. He is better. He is not old and feeble and hobbling to get around, but young and strong and practically leaping over the back fence again.

Off to Shabbat services at the temple now.
rebecca_in_blue: (worried eyes)
Rebecca ate her first Big Mac today. (I know, but as much as I love fast food, I've never been big on hamburgers, only cheeseburgers.) It was surprisingly bland, difficult to eat, and not filling at all. Why in heck this is McDonald's #1, I have no idea. In other news...


Hope looks like this: the one brave seed that decided to sprout into something green, in spite of the fact that I managed to kill every other seed in the packet. And I'll probably kill this one, too!


Dead-and-gone looks like this: I finally got Sable's remains back from the vet. A little bag of gray ashes and bone fragments. I put it on a shelf in my closet. I don't know what to do with it, and right now I get all weepy just looking at it.
rebecca_in_blue: (worried eyes)
This is what our ticker looked like today. Sable was my dog for 15 years, 3 months, and 3 weeks. It was hard not living with him for five of those years, and I am grateful that he died while he was living with me and I got to see him every day. When I left for France, I was terrified that would die while I was gone, thinking that I was never coming back and not knowing how much I loved him. To think that was four years ago.


I love this shot of Sable lying on my bed. Look at how messy my floor was!

Sable and I woke up early this morning. I gave him some chicken bones for breakfast (I don't usually give him any non-dog food to eat; it makes him have diarrhea all over the carpet) and he gobbled them right up and licked his chops. Then we went outside for a little walk. It was a beautiful Spring morning, with dew still on the grass and so many plants and trees in bloom. Then my uncle picked us up and took us to the vet. I held Sable the whole way. My arms felt so painfully empty on the ride home.


I stayed in the room with him and held him when they gave him the shot and when he died. It was HARD, but the alternative -- not being with him, and instead just leaving him to die among strangers -- was unthinkable to me. It was fast and seemed peaceful. I cried a little bit, silently, when it happened, but I held most of it in until I got back home. (I try not to do crying in public. I didn't even cry at Dad or Grandma's funerals.) Then it was like a dam burst. I managed to keep it under control at work, but I fell apart all over again when I came home tonight to an empty apartment. I've felt kinda nauseous all day and haven't eaten much.


Sable died at the same vet clinic that we adopted him from way back in 1996. I asked the secretary if they still had a copy of his adoption record on file. She looked, but they didn't have it. The oldest record they had for Sable was from 1997 and it was titled "Emergency." It took me a minute to remember that he got hit by a car that year, when he was still just a crazy puppy running wild everywhere. Thinking about it actually made me feel a tiny bit better. Dogs and cats get hit by cars and killed every day. That could've happened to Sable, but instead, he survived, made a full recovery, and lived for another 15 years. I am so grateful to have had him in my life for so long. I could've had a prettier, smarter, better-behaved, or more obedient dog -- but I wouldn't have traded Sable for anything.

Sable Winston C.
1996 - 2012
A Good Dog
rebecca_in_blue: (trembling hand)
Due to worsening incontinence, skin issues, loss of hearing and vision, mobility and respiratory problems, and other effects of very old-age, I have made the absolutely heart-wrenching decision to euthanize my sweet 15-year-old dog, Sable.


My first picture of us. Sable had been home for less than a month.

This wasn't a decision that I made lightly. I have been thinking (and crying) over it for some time now. I LOVE this dog. I have loved him for over fifteen years, more than half my life. Anyone didn't would've had him euthanized already. My mom has wanted to do it since 2006. I knew that it would be hard to go through with, and I hoped that if I kept putting it off, Sable would die naturally and I would be spared from making this horrible decision. Alas.


"Sit still for the camera? I think I'd rather lick your ear!"

I know this doesn't even register on the scale of human suffering in this world, but on Rebecca's personal scale, it is very, very hard, especially so soon after losing Grandma. Even though I've made this decision, told others about it, and made the necessary arrangements, I know that it will all be easier said than done. I just hope that I can go through with it without falling apart completely.


I love the wary expression on Sable's face here.

Lately I haven't had much of an appetite, I've been biting my nails until they bled (a habit I thought I had kicked), and I've had trouble sleeping because I lay awake listening to Sable breathe and thinking about how much I'm going to miss that sound. Last night, I had a terrible dream where I was walking Sable and we were both attacked and ripped apart by big, mean Rottweilers. It's anyone's guess as to how I'm not dehydrated yet.

He spoke through tears of 15 years how his dog and him traveled about.
The dog up and died, he up and died. After 20 years, he still grieves.


See a pattern? I always have my arms around him. I love this dog.
rebecca_in_blue: (Default)
On Monday night, Sable and I slept over at JC & Co's so Eva wouldn't have to stay home alone (her dad was working nights, and her mom was spending the night with Grandma, who can't be left alone anymore). I love them and visiting their house, so I was happy to do it. I'm not sure if Sable was, though; in all the years I've had him, I'd never brought him to their house before, and he doesn't adapt well to strange places in his old age. He and their sweet puppy Eleanor didn't know what to make of each other, but Sable enjoyed sniffing around their back yard so much that I had trouble bringing him back inside!

I got some bad news about Grandma before we left -- she's in hospice care now, and the doctor thinks she has about three months left. It hasn't really sunk in yet. And I'm not gonna lie, the first thing I thought about was when the doctor said that Aunt Carolyn had about six months left, and she died a few weeks later. We visited Grandma later that evening, and it was painfully uncomfortable. I wish I could do more for that poor, sweet old lady.

To distract myself from that -- NCIS! Yesterday's was our first new episode in a while, but Rebecca hasn't taken a break from her notes. I decided that for each week we don't get a new episode, I'll go back and rewatch an old one. I started at the beginning of Season 8. I'm not sure if I'll go back and write reviews for every old episode -- I'd have to rewatch close to 200! -- but I do wish I had started writing these reviews sooner.

Anyway, as for last night's episode. Perhaps because I was already so depressed going in, it didn't thrill me. NCIS does not have a good history with Christmas episodes.


Humbug! Notes on episode 9x11 "Newborn King" )
rebecca_in_blue: (subtle sigh)
Today, November 23, 2011, is the fifteen-year anniversary of the day my family adopted Sable. Fifteen years! That's more than half my life. I really can't believe it. If you had told me even last year that Sable would still be alive to see this day, I probably wouldn't have believed you. Don't me wrong, I'm not complaining. I ♥ ♥ my puppy, and I'm happy that he's still with us, but he's been slowing down a lot lately, and I find myself wondering how much time we have left with him.



This is the oldest photo I have of me and Sable together. He's only about five months old in it. It was taken by Grandma on Sara's birthday in December 1996, just a few weeks after we first got him. Look at how tiny Sable is, and how young we both are! It's unbelievable!

(P.S. Making this post has made me feel really old.)
rebecca_in_blue: (bemused shrug)
Here's my sporadic but thankful Thursday for today:

~ Real music from a real radio station at work! Hallelujah! (We'll see how long this lasts.)

~ Even Sara had to admit that Sable's bladder-control pills seem to be working. He's still not quite 100% accident-free, but he's been having them a lot less.

~ I finally bought a bike light and a mezuzah for myself. They were both more expensive than I would've liked, but I feel like I've been putting off buying them for forever, so it's good to finally have them. My mezuzah is rosewood, has a shin (ש) and a nun (נ) on it, and came with a scroll. Hanging a mezuzah is one of the mitzvot commanded in Deuteronomy, and while I have no intention of following all 613 of them, it felt good to do this one. My bike light is very bright (I almost feel like I'll need sunglasses!) and has strobe and solid options.


/\  My mezuzah. (Update: My mezuzah on the doorframe of our new apartment.)

~ And just look at what I came home to yesterday!!!  \/



It was such a beautiful surprise. One of my neighbors put up this stained-glass in the stairwell window right outside our door. It's really dazzling when the sun is out, and I love looking at the colored light shining through onto my mezuzah. :)
rebecca_in_blue: (raised eyebrows)

All these LiveJournal hiccups have been getting on my last nerve! Most people are having trouble accessing the site, right, not just me? I read a crazy-sounding theory that it's a massive hacker attack launched by pro-Kremlin forces in Russia, where LJ is the main platform for political dissenters. All I know is that not being able to get to my NCIS communities is driving me crazy! Anyway...

Name-related funnies unrelated to Sara:

#1
Michael and Brenda (Sassy Jewish Grandparents #1) invited me out for coffee last weekend. I had posted on FaceBook a while back that I was "kinda getting nervous" about converting, and I suspect they wanted to make sure I wasn't backing out. Brenda asked me if I had picked out a Jewish name yet. I'm a little surprised when people ask me this (my rabbi did) because I would think it'd be obvious that I'm picking Rivka, which is Rebecca in its Hebrew form. I love them both! They're such strong-sounding names to to me. Anyway, I told Brenda that I had chosen Rivka, and she said, "Oh, that's Rebekah's [their daughter] Hebrew name too! Isn't that a coincidence?" Me: "Well, it's the Hebrew version of Rebecca." Brenda: "Oh. Yes, of course." Michael: [rolling his eyes] "Oy, Brenda..."

#2
When I was walking Sable that night, my downstairs neighbors were outside barbequing and one of them asked me what his name was. I told her Sable, but she misheard C'est Bon and proceeded to drunkenly call, "C'est bon, c'est bon!" trying to get him to come to her. (He never comes when he's called. He's too old, probably deaf, and possibly blind.) But how Cajun is that?

54 DAYS LEFT until the Season 9 premiere of NCIS!

rebecca_in_blue: (happy smile)

There's a happy feeling nothing in the world can buy
when they pass around the Green Glop and the pecan pie.

The above is a slightly tweaked line from "Sleigh Ride," one of the few Christmas songs I like -- and one of the many I will soon be tired of, since one local radio station is already playing nothing but Christmas music! Ugh!

As soon as I woke up today, Sara and I sprinkled French-fried onions over the green bean casseroles (I do that last, so the onions will stay crispy) and headed over to Grandma's. After eating, we drew names for Secret Santa at Christmas, and then Uncle John took Eva to the parking lot across the street and let her drive his truck. She drove into the safeguard, knocked the front bumper loose, and was very upset until her mom said, "Oh Lord, she crashed into that yellow bar," and Grandma replied, without missing a beat, "Well, who else crashed into that yellow bar when she was learning to drive, Connie? And you thought your father would never find out, but of course it was his car."

When we left, Grandma loaded us down with all the leftovers we could carry, and she would've given us something else, but I told her I'd come back tomorrow for it. Typing this now, I don't remember at all what I'm supposed to be going back for. I was dazed from all the eating and talking, but we went to Mom's house for Thanksgiving dinner with her. We watched Beauty and the Beast on TV, which was fitting because Sara wore her shirt with Jerry Orbach's face on it (she said he's what she's thankful for). She fell asleep on the couch, and I left her there and came home to walk Sable. He'd been by himself all day, and I felt bad about leaving him alone on Thanksgiving. It was pouring when I left Mom's and when I woke up this morning, but thankfully, most of the day inbetween was sunny. And windy! When we were all sitting on Grandma's front porch, we practically had to shout to make ourselves heard over the wind.

As for me, I'm thankful 1) that I don't have to work tomorrow morning, and 2) that Sable is still with us. I was so busy preparing for Thanksgiving, I totally forgot that November 23 was the 14-year anniversary of the day we got him.

A girl and her dog
At the time of posting, this said: Rebecca got Sable 14 years & 2 days ago.
I love that puppy.

rebecca_in_blue: (dozing off)

Taken a few hours ago, on a walk down the block. The sun was just starting to set behind the live oak tree, and the shot was perfect, but I ruined it by taking the picture in a hurry. I wanted to get it before that patchy old dog wandered out of the frame. I edited it to look a little more blurry, so maybe it would seem like it's supposed to be that way.



The evening was so cool. I wanted to go bike riding, but I've been exhausted all day. Staying up until 3 am to post in NCIS LiveJournal communities and message boards and rewatch the premiere the CBS website was not a good idea.

rebecca_in_blue: (bemused shrug)

Lately when I walk Sable, he's gotten into the habit of flinging himself in front of oncoming cars. I don't know if he's actually trying to do away with himself, or if he's doing on accident because he's just gotten that uncoordinated in his old age, or if he is so blind and deaf now that he doesn't know a car's coming. But either way, I have to make sure I don't take my eyes off him when we're on a walk.

My trips to the hospital for a breathing treatment and the doctor's for prescriptions, while they didn't put me in the red, turned out to be more expensive than I'd expected. And I still haven't gotten the prescriptions filled yet. And I need to order more contacts. And I should get a haircut and buy new dishes for Sable. It seems stupid to buy new dishes for a dog who might not even be alive to use them that long, but his old ones have gotten so grime-encrusted, and I can't pretend I can wash them anymore. *sigh* Back to collecting cans. I can budget, I just don't want to.

I'm trying to decide whether I want to do NaNoWriMo this year. Last year was my first attempt, and it didn't go as well as I'd hoped (i.e., I let it peter out before November was even halfway over). I remember thinking last year that for NaNoWriMo 2010, it might be fun to pull a really weird, random story idea out of nowhere and just go with it. The story I wrote last year had been sitting in the back of my mind forever, and I think that might've made me feel more pressured to make it perfect. It wasn't bad; I just wish I had done written more on it. I've been writing fanfiction pretty intensely lately (which is good practice, right?) but I can always put that on hold. I'm also trying to decide whether to put a link to my FF.net profile up here, but I don't think I'm comfortable with that yet.

rebecca_in_blue: (stiff shoulders)

When I logged into LiveJournal yesterday, I found 24 new items in my inbox. And that's a lot for me, since my inbox is usually empty. I didn't know what was up (and thought for a fleeting moment that my young actress community had gotten featured) until I went to the homepage and saw...

As a child, did you feel like you were you expected to pursue a certain type of career? How did this make you feel? Did you wind up choosing a different profession or path?

Submitted By [info]

rebecca_in_blue

<input ... >
View 811 Answers
 
 
...one of my suggestion questions got featured for Writer's Block! I am so geekily excited by this. I got about eighteen new friend requests (most of them from people in Russia, for some odd reason) but no new members at my young actress community. *sigh*

We did inventory last Saturday at work; I'm glad that's over, but now we're officially in the Back-to-School season. The store was so packed today that when Boss Man asked Josh to stay late, he literally turned and ran. It sucked for me, but I couldn't say anything because I probably would've done the exact same thing. (Probably? Okay, definitely.) And it's not even August yet! The only light at the end of the tunnel is the Season 8 premiere of NCIS.

A few days ago, Sable dug up this old piece of rawhide he had buried against the back fence. I was there when he buried it, otherwise I wouldn't have known what it was, because it was no longer identifiable as rawhide. It had turned solid black and had the foulest, nastiest stench you could possibly imagine. I've smelt my share of stinkiness (I pick up dog shit regularly and have eaten a variety of smelly French cheeses) but nothing even compared to this. And Sable acted like it was manna from Heaven! He would've brought it inside, but I couldn't take the looming odor of death, so I threw it away. I had to wrench the disgusting thing out of his mouth, which made me very nervous because he doesn't have many teeth left. He was so pissed at me after I threw it away. Crazy dog.
rebecca_in_blue: (subtle sigh)
The first hurricane of the 2010 season, Alex, has appeared in the Gulf. Bad news for the people of Mexico (where it's currently expected to make landfall) and even worse news for us if it makes the oil spill spread further and faster. Which it probably will. So in the meantime, I'm enjoying all the fresh, cool wind and rain that it's sending our way. It rained for most of today and yesterday, but not so hard that I couldn't go bike riding in it. It felt so nice. I like to think that somewhere in Jamaica and Mexico, Nakesha and Mariana are enjoying some cooler weather, too.

Re: the oil spill, by the way, our street has been flooded by storm surges before, because it's a former drainage canal that connects to a lake that's part of a river that flows into the Gulf. So my worst-case scenario is a river of oil rising right outside my bedroom window!

Sable's skin is bad enough as is, but it always gets worse during the summer, so yesterday I finally gave him an overdue, much-needed bath. He was awful. He's never liked baths, but usually he just suffers through them silently, with Gibbs-like stoicism. ("Stoic? You think my house is stoic?" Oh dear, how does everything I talk about end up back at NCIS?) This time he whined like I was killing him! I've never bathed a squirming baby, but now I think I have some idea what it's like.

In other, geekier news, I've begun writing fanfiction (to quote Craig Ferguson again, "Don't dare laugh at that! How dare you laugh at that!"), which is very strange and not something I've ever really done before. While I am glad to finally have those creative juices flowing again in some way, the bad news is that inspiration only comes late at night when I should be in bed. The past two nights, I stayed up until about two in the morning, and both times I had to be up at eight. Although the second time was more Sable's fault for wrestling with the comforter.

I'm off for the 4th of July this weekend! I'm still debating how I should spend the day, and whether I should make some dessert for the occassion.
rebecca_in_blue: (dishevelled hair)
This is why you should never be nice to customers, boys and girls. Because as soon as you are, you'll get a customer like the one Rebecca had Friday night. A man who was at least old enough to be my father first looked as obviously as possible at my left hand, then asked me if I'd like to go to dinner with him. When I told my manager (who has never taken anything seriously in his entire life) about it later, he said that I should've taken him up on it, because if the guy was "about to croak," then I could marry him and inherit all his money, and at the very least I'd get a free dinner out of it.

Sara and I have kicked our comforter to the floor, because it's gotten too hot to even think about sleeping under it, and now Sable thinks it's another bed for him. He's in hog heaven.
rebecca_in_blue: (excited grin)

Scenes from an office supply store breakroom...
EJ: I'm gonna have the most awesome time this weekend, Rebecca.
Me: No, I'm gonna have the most awesome time, EJ.
EJ: Oh, yeah? What're you doing?
Me: You first.
EJ: Well, I'm going camping! With lesbians! And there's gonna be alcohol!
Me: Well, I'm going canoeing! With Mormons! And there's gonna be... uh... Kool-Aid!
Sally: Really? I didn't think we had any Mormons down here. Aren't they all up in Utah?

Kim was a little late getting back from lunch today, so Sally asked me to stay for a few minutes extra. Which I was fine with. Then a few minutes turned into a freaking half-hour because my last customer of the day was very blatantly trying to rip us off for $200. I realized what was up right away (it's an old trick at our store, and not even a very good one -- like, if you're going to try to rip someone off, couldn't you at least not be sloppy about it?) but it was still very sucky to deal with. After I finally got out of there, the first song I heard when I turned on the ignition in my truck was The Cure's "Friday I'm in Love!" What better sign of a fabulous weekend?

My aunt invited me to go canoeing last Saturday, when I was at her house for Adam's birthday, but I haven't posted about it before now because I was sure that if I did, something would happen to throw a wrench in the plans. (I'm still not entirely sure something won't.) I'm so excited!

Sable has gotten quite tepid towards strangers in his old age. (Sara likes to say, "Death? Is that you?" in her Sable voice whenever he sees someone coming.) But he still has a bloodlust for this one specific mailman, who remembers him from when we lived at Mom's house. We saw him today on our walk, and Sable starting lunging on his leash and barking, and the mailman said, "One day that dog's gonna like me." Lately Sable's been burying and reburying this piece of rawhide he found in the parking lot. He digs a hole with his paws, then pushes the dirt back in with his head and pats it down with his face -- it's hilarious to watch.

Now to go get some shut-eye. My uncle wants us to leave for the river at eight tomorrow morning.

rebecca_in_blue: (happy smile)

I was suffering a terrible NCIS drought for the last three days. USA didn't show any episodes all weekend, and I missed the ones that came on yesterday because I was stuck at work. There was one tonight that started at seven, and since I didn't get off until seven, I ran across the parking lot and drove home as quickly and dangerously as possible (which, for me, is not at all quick or dangerous, certainly not compared to my mom or NCIS's Ziva) to miss as little as possible.

Speaking of droughts, it rained yesterday for the first time in so long that I was tempted to run outside and dance in it! (And I probably would have, but I was at work.) Unfortunately it was brief, and when I drove home, I saw that it the rain hadn't touched my end of town at all. This after it was cloudy all day on Sunday, but all we got were a few worthless little drops, the kind the people in the Dust Bowl got when they prayed for rain.

I've been thinking lately about Sable's weird habit of rolling around on his blankets. I don't know if he does it when no one's around, but when I am around, he usually does it just after I've come home from work, fed him, or walked him. I used to think he was wrestling with the blankets, but now I think it might be his form of celebration, like that happy dance Snoopy does. When he does it outside on the grass, I suspect it's way of worshipping his one true god, the sun.


 

rebecca_in_blue: (raised eyebrows)
Sable seems to be spending more time than ever in his many beds -- not sleeping, but just lying there with his head on his paws, raising his eyes when someone walks by. It's the most pathetic-looking thing you can imagine. Poor old pup.

Last Sunday, April 11, was Holocaust Remembrance Day. I looked up more information on it, and found out that every year on that day in Israel (where it's known as Yom Ha'Shoah), sirens are sounded are sounded across the country at ten in the morning, and people are expected to stop whatever they're doing and stand at attention for two minutes, in remembrance of Holocaust victims. People who are driving stop their cars and get out of their vehicles. I looked up videos of this on YouTube, and they were incredible. In a crowded neighborhood in Jerusalem, everyone stood so still that the only movement was the birds and the Israeli flag flapping in the wind. On a major highway, all the cars stopped and the drivers got out. I can't imagine how powerful it must feel to pay tribute like that, knowing that you're doing together with people all across your contry. That's an appopriate way to pay tribute. It makes me wish we did something similar here, instead of having Memorial Day Sales at the mall. But then, I don't think any nation in the world has an event in its past that's comparable to Israel and the Holocaust.

Hahahas, courtesy of me and my grandma:
Grandma: Do you need any vitamins? I have three bottles in here. Course some of them are probably out of date by now.
Me: Why'd you buy three bottles?
Grandma: Well, they were on sale, and I had a buy one, get one free coupon.
Me: You and your sales and your coupons. You end up buying all this stuff you don't even need.
Grandma: I know. [pause] But I'm gonna stop.
Me: Yeah, you'll stop when you're dead.
rebecca_in_blue: (dishevelled hair)

Shortly after I got to work this morning, Sara called the store saying that the three outlets in our kitchen had suddenly stopped working. Which meant we had no toaster, microwave, or refrigerator.(They actually went out sometime yesterday, but we didn't notice immediately.) So on my lunch break, I had to haul butt home, parallel park on the street -- because our landlord chose today to repave part of our parking lot, so I couldn't get in the driveway, and I had only parallel-parked once before, and that was years ago! -- wolf down my quarter pounder, then drive back to work with Sara and my bike. I bought an extension cord from the store and she used it to plug the refrigerator into one of our living room outlets until the electrician came out and fixed the outlets in our kitchen. I'm still not totally sure what happened there, because Sara has been asleep since I came home, understandably exhausted from spending all morning on the phone with our landlords and electricity company.

Strangely enough, when I got back to work from lunch, Gina asked me what I'd had, and when I said a quarter pounder from McDonald's, she looked incredulous and asked, "You eat quarter pounders? You seem like more of a ... salad person." So she apparently doesn't know me at all (the word vegetable isn't even in my vocabulary!) whereas Josh knows me too well. When I mentioned how important a chocolate-fix can be, he said, "More important than your NCIS-fix, Rebecca?"

Nothing soothed down all the stress of the day as well as riding my bike home from work. The clocks sprang forward last weekend, so it was still light out and wonderfully cool. I didn't have my earphones, but my iPod speaker was in my purse because I listened to it on my way to work this morning, so I jerry-rigged everything into my bike basket and rode the whole way home with my music blaring. Riding by lots of front-yard barbecues and blooming Bradford Pear trees that smelt divine.

I just moved our truck back to the parking lot from where Sara parked it on the street, and Sable came along for the ride, so we drove around the neighborhood a bit with our windows down and his nose sniffing nonstop. For years we thought Sable was terrified of riding in a car, but it turns out he was just terrified of mom's driving. When I'm taking him somewhere, he practically leaps up into the cab. When I walked him today, he hardly even noticed the crew of guys paving the parking lot; not too long ago he would've been barking for their blood.
 

rebecca_in_blue: (happy smile)
Last night Sara and I watched Now, Voyager, this Bette Davis movie I checked out from the library. I was pissed at Sable when I had to pause it halfway-through to take him for a walk -- he always seems to need to be walked at the most inopportune times -- but as soon as I stepped outside, I didn't mind so much. My mind boggled that I could possibly be seeing snow (!) in Louisiana (!!) in March (!!!), and I'm still not sure that's what it was, but it was drifting to the ground in such a lazy, back-and-forth motion that I'm sure it wasn't plain old rain. It was so fine that I could barely feel it, and I could only see it when I looked at the super-bright light over the back of our apartment building. It was damn hypnotic, and beautiful. I should be grateful to Sable for that. Sometimes I worry that we petty humans will eventually get so caught up in our screens, appliances, possessions, etc. that we'll completely lose touch with the world around us, and each other. (And I guess I'm more guilty of this than anybody, since I'm the one whose life is being taken over by a TV show.)

The message that I took from Now, Voyager is that there are as many different ways to be happy as there are people in this world. Most people in the movie assumed that the only way for Charlotte to be happy was for her to marry well; even Jerry seemed to think this. But in the end, that wasn't what she needed to be happy at all. The other message, of course, is that Bette Davis is Just. Too. Much. (Her words, by the way.)

Today I deep-cleaned my room so thoroughly that I suspect Sable didn't know where he was when he woke up. I actually got into the zone and enjoyed it, even though kicking up all those clouds of dust made me wheeze. I also went over to Grandma's house and hung up her bird-feeder for her: "I'm old, so it's safer for me if you do it." Yesterday I actually heard myself using the word "ta-tie," which I can't spell and is some sort of Cajun word for boogey-man. Sara was freaked because it's strictly an old-Cajun-people word.

rebecca_in_blue: (stiff shoulders)
Our pilot light somehow went out last night, causing our heater to shut down. When I woke up, everything in the apartment was like ice. (I am not exaggerating.) I threw a blanket over Sable, relit the pilot light, cranked up the heater, and got back in bed until it was -- well, not warm, but less cold. I can't wait until this damned cold weather is over. Sable shit all over the floor a few days ago, probably because the weather was so terrible (cold and wet and windy) that he didn't want to go out. Either that, or he's so old that his plumbing doesn't work anymore. And I really hope it's not the latter, because I can't deal with that.

I am a tiny bit excited that the Saints are going to the Superbowl, but I also will be very happy when it's over and everyone stops talking about it. A lot of my customers today were wearing Saints shirts and/or black-and-gold Mardi Gras beads. I'm scheduled to close tomorrow, no doubt because my managers knew that I don't pay attention to football and wouldn't care.

I had a dream a few days ago that one of my managers -- one of my nicest managers, actually -- went drunk-driving and crashed his car into our apartment building (or a house nearby, I can't quite remember). He was okay even though he was covered in blood, and when he saw me, he slurred, "Rebecca, you can't tell anyone at work about this!" I began to suspect I was dreaming at that point, because he's the last co-worker I'd expect that from. I told him about it at work the next day -- which I maybe shouldn't have done, in retrospect -- and he was weirded out.

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rebecca_in_blue

March 2013

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