THE KIND OF PUPPIES DREAMS ARE MADE OF

I'm thinking about opening a high end pet boutique in an upper middle class town in Florida. I have owned one dog in my adult life and I gave it away when I selfishly decided to move into an apartment that did not allow pets. The family I gave her to already had a puppy of the same breed and was looking for a female and since I had known the family for some time I felt no remorse. Now that I have a baby, a real live human, of my own I feel the guilt of giving away my first "baby." The point of this diatribe is that I do not know a great deal about pets, nor do I seem to be an exceptionally good pet owner - based on prior record. What I do know are fancy accessories that accompany pampered pets. When I had Jazzy, aforementioned pet, I would take bubble baths with her and then douse her in Chanel Mademoiselle, blow her dry and put on a little top or sweater of some sort. I even had these little Ugg boots that I would put on her when it was chilly out. She hated them, but they were so cute - I loved the attention we would get when I would pull her out of my purse. If I had been with a man with money or better yet, had money of my own I would have had the Louis Vuitton dog carrier. Instead, I had a really cute pink Sherpa carrier. I miss Jazzy, I miss her sleeping in my bed and just being so damn cute. I have a friend who I call from time to time and in this really high pitched voice I say "HIIIII, it's me!" He'll say "Jazzy?" Then I will go on to ask really simple questions. "Hiiii, how are you?! I'm wearing a new sweater!" He'll ask "Jazzy" a thousand questions and because she's stupid she'll say the same thing over and over "I'm wearing a new sweater!" It's funny, in my funny kind of way. Sooo, we'll see if this is a good idea or not - the boutique. If it pans out I'm definitely getting a puppy to bring with me to work. She'll have a different voice than Jazzy but will operate on the same wavelength. Sometimes when the customers are assholes I will have Jazzy 2 address them. Then I'll just smile, shrug my shoulders and point to Jazzy 2. It's always best when you can be simultaneously insulting and funny - get your point across without immediately upsetting the person but after they are left alone they realize the insult and feel depressed. Oh, Jazzy 2, you are man's best friend.

What is it about people that even in this day and age the only acceptable place to live over the age of 30 and not be married is New York City. I live in a standard small town, minimal culture, people with four year degrees are considered smart per se, slutty girls are considered "pretty." I hate small towns, but, I also kindof just adjust wherever I am so I don't hate this town. What I am getting the shits of are the small-town married people. Married people with the attitude that they are intuned to some inside secret. Married people who secretly wish you were married too, why - not sure, but their secrets are out nonetheless. Married people who back out last minute because their tired or because significant other does not like for them to co-mingle with a single woman. Now, yes, there are exceptions. Well, there is one that I know of here - she is very independent and is an anomole. I am trying to figure this whole married people thing out. I an not pensive typically, but this has got me thinking. Mostly, because I keep getting my feelings hurt by these people. So, it has me re-evaluating things. I don't believe in the bullshit inside secret insinuation. I have a baby and prior to having one talking to mom's I would always feel inferior because they would go on rants about kid stuff and I just knew I was never going to have a child and never fully know their "pain." Well, I did now I know those people were just small town assholes who revolved their whole life around someone else's life. People that took on too much because they were looking for something in someone besides themselves. I love my daughter more than life, but do I stay home every night holding her and writing poems about the joy she brings me? Work on my fucking scrapbook? No, and you know why? Because that would make me an asshole with a big fat scrapbook collection that no one gives a shit about. I like going out, I like talking to people when I'm out, I like to listen to live music, I like to experience life. I don't just say that, because everyone would say that - I do, I make plans, I do it. I want to meet someone, but I am not sure I want any more kids. I want to share my life but I don't want to run through my life exhausted, stressed, arguing, always fucking tired with sick kids and a needy husband and still have time on my hands to over analyze. It's just tough because I have crazy wanderlust by nature and being in an environment where the people that too want to "experience life" are 25 years old, and younger, is making me a bit nutty. Now, I should say there are those that have kids and the whole nuclear family thing and totally thrive on it and I LOVE these people because they went down the right path. They don't bitch and moan and never have time for anything or anyone besides their families - because they are not stressed, they are happy and fulfilled. My friends in NYC are like this. A very good friend of mine just had a baby and I know she will be like this. Walking the line with a swagger. Suburbia sucks because the majority of it's population consists of lost people who did what they were supposed to because otherwise they would end up like me with all their friends analyzing them - why is Susie single?! She pushes men away. She has crotch rot. It makes you insecure, it makes you wish like hell you would hurry up and find someone, it's a shame honestly. I heard a quote today it just really fits what I am willing to wait for. Love is friendship on fire. I love that.

We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
-- Robert Frost

I know, I know. I'm stupid. This is where I should be right now. On a mostly expense paid vacation. But, noooo I choose to stay behind and "relax." Enjoy some me time. Which for the most part has consisted of time spent with on average 10 other people at any given moment (besides today which I vowed I would not see a soul - and it sucks, I have forgotten how to be alone - which I used to covet more than time spent with people). Every since I can remember I have wanted to be a boy. Not banging women kinda boy, but not over analyzing, overthinking, over everything kinda boy. Boys/Men are down right simple - because nothing beyond that is really expected of them. I was soo looking forward to this trip - but, I had to go and ruin it for myself by getting into the mind of the person who invited me (or trying to - which I discovered I sucked at). So, since I got no feedback from this person beyond "yeah, go. I won't be there and I am not promising you anything that puts me out. But, go there and just relax, you need a vacation. Have fun. Now, please get your shit and get out of my house because I have to get up early and this whole conversation is tired and boring me. You are giving me all I need to be secure and treat you like shit. But, I am not going to give you much beyond an inch because if I do I might lose this headtrip I'm on." Well, more like "yeah, sure go. Where's your stuff you need to go home." So, I did what any woman with half a backbone would do - I told his sister I wasn't going and didn't tell him anything. It wasn't difficult because he never asked when I was arriving, if I was excited, anything really. So, I didn't even have an akward moment of breaking the news to him about my nonexsistence - I just remained nonexsistent. This is supposed to be my "summer of george." And, in true capricorn fashion I made up my mind to take charge of my life completely and I did it. I decided that this summer I will take no shit from men. I always take shit from men. It's my main fault, I believe. Anytime in the past when good things have happened it has been from a "summer of george" moment that ultimately led me to becoming TRULY happy at being alone again. But, as a friend from Oregon had recently said to me "anytime I truly become comfortable with my life a man comes along and fucks it all up again." It's true. But, that is precisely why I love life so much.

"Well she's going to have a lot of poops." AKA, I have to go, this call is boring me and I really don't care plus I think you are trying to get attention off of you're daughter's bowel movements. I have this...friend...that always acts all concerned over GG's issues. It's a front, I'm convinced. Does anyone, I mean anyone really honestly care about a baby's problems but the mother. I mean, my sister is a saint - abnormally caring - she does, but most people don't besides the actual mother. Not the father, grandma, grandfather - it is so boring, isn't it? Not when your in the heat of the action it's not in fact. Last night was one of the longest most draining nights of my life. I could write a not so short story on last night. The poops, the crying, the sleeping in the big bed - so much action, noises HOLY SHIT the Stomper is up, my belly starts to hurt - the room smells like a monkey house, it's chaos I tell you! But, this friend could care less. Well, I understand but as the mother it is just heartbreaking that people don't want to listen. I want to share my horror stories. I used to be one of these people that never talked - only maybe to 2 people. Besides that I was super private and did not share with anything - I'm thinking seriously about going back to those days. Not repressing just not being so open. Half the shit I talk about these days is just boring. I recently read that by not speaking people think you are intelligent - I picture a lot of nodding and hmmms. And, the more questions you ask of the other person - How do you feel, What did you think of dinner, Where did you get that dead racoon - the more the other person will like you. I'm getting back to me damnit - my Mom who sorry Mom, but her advice usually sucks gave me really good advice this morning. Stop caring about other people so damn much. It's true it's been ions since I've done that. I have been so preoccupied in everyone else that I don't know who I am anymore. So trite, but sometimes trite is good - it just hit home this morning when she said that. I was like, yeah, so if someone doesn't like me then I just don't have them in my life anymore. There are tons more people to meet and fuck, I mean.. I'm done with trying to make my daughter's poops sound exciting. Fuck that friend that can't see the excitement in some sick crazy night of uninhibited bowel movements. His loss.

Post baby sucks. I had a baby 6 months ago this Saturday and I can not shake these awful feelings of doom and gloom. The thing that sucks more than anything is that no one wants to hear about them. Or, should I say I don't want to share them with anyone. It's weak and degrading and pathetic that someone who has as much as I do is feeling this way. The only explanation is hormones. I cry when I go to bed because I am tired and fixated on whatever "horrible" foreshadowing I have going on in my head. And, I cry when I wake up due to the same feelings - fatigue, hopelessness. It has went on for so long now that I feel it's a part of me. It is like some horrible teen agnst novel. Like a Judy Blume book. Waaah, wahhh, I don't have a husband, I live where it's always warm and sunny, there are ugly people on the beach - it's pathetic. I don't want to take medication which is just pissing the people who I do share with off - great sentence I know, say it outloud, I'm depressed damnit. I do wish I had someone to unload on and rub MY back and tell ME it will be ok - and then it could very well be okay or it not. Who knows, I put too much emphasis on the uncontrollable. So, I spend time with selfish, spoiled men that add to my burdens because of the glimpses of whatif's I have. There's no end, only updates. Waiting for the next big change. It'll come, I'll have to stick in there - they always come, those big changes. Reminds me of Billy Joel and that cheesy song of his that I always sing along with. Oooohhh, you'll get your second wind - ewww, ohhhh. I'm depressed and a dork, great.

I am horrible at relationships. I have a deep horrible issue with relationships. I still have hope besides these statements. I seem to fuck up time and time and time again. Since I can remember first liking a boy I remember the difficulty I had remaining true to myself post these heafty initial feelings of love. I completely lose sight of what I like, want, need and kill myself trying to get this person to like me on whatever terms they seem to steer me in. It is horrible. As a 35 year old woman, it is not only horrible it is debilating and extremely stressfull. I've been in therapy, I've talked incesantly to friends, family, read self help books, done every controlling proactive thing possible to try and understand why I fuck up relationships with people I like. I could be married, but I would not be in love. The men I "love" are the ones that end up treating me like shit, leaving me, not caring about me and just overall make me feel extremely insecure and scared shitless for the majority of the time and on the highest high ever exprerienced at other much less frequent times. It's so tiring. The sick thing about it all is when I step back from these ruined relationships I see why they fail. I have little in common with them, they ultimately bore me and if they are clingy I get super independent and make them feel like shit and if they are distant I get clingy and scare them away. My sister always reminds me of how every since I have let down my guard at around the age of 25 and opened up to people I have been in this extreme mode of longing for the "right man." Now I have a daughter and 2 jobs and a long ass commute and 10,000 other things going on - but, I am lonely and don't want to be anymore. It'll pass, I'm sure it's all very normal. Constant struggle, I think it might be time for me to stop by the bike store and see if Ryan, the owner, knows who the adorable curly haired guy in the khaki linen pants was. I'm hopelessly hopefull.