I've been living for the day in NY lately. Quicker than quick review for elaboration later:
-Met and befriended NYPD officer! Scarily enough, he's my age. Gave me new perspective into the job. Amazing conversation.
-Sister came in town.
-Bought classic "little black dress", but of course, this one has a Betsy twist.
-Great Saturday night with hatches, strangers, dance party extraordinaires, twins, sombreros (see left), missed connections, calling a complete stranger a fashion victim to his face (Yikes!), AND nachos!
-Jack Bauer Power Hour.
-Walking through wonderful snow.
-Girl America by Mat Kearney.
Basically if my life were always this exciting, well, I'd be a busy little fun-haver. Like an heiress. Oh NY, why do you have to be so nice right as I'm saying goodbye?
ps: Anyone else know that Kiefer Sutherland's real name is Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland? (I did that from memory, but here's your proof.) Yeah!
He brings the hottness like no one's business. I might have to bump him up to #2 on my Top 5 over 40 list. (No one can touch Clooney.)
It's like the shirt that you love the second you're about give it to Goodwill. You suddenly remember the high school football game you wore it to, and your mind thinks of the perfect outfit in which this particular shirt, the one you haven't worn in five years, will truly shine. (I know plenty about this metaphor as I've been trying to downsize for a couple months now.)
My departure is coming quickly. In a little over a month, I'll be leaving New York for presumably forever. I've slowly been falling in love with my neighborhood. It's taken twenty months, but now, it's become my neighborhood. I know the cars on the street. I know when I get woken up by a car that just won't crank, it's the boy with the Bronco across the street. I know that when I get off the subway and walk up those stairs, without fail, someone is going to open the emergency exit door, setting off the alarm as they exit calmly, with a herd of people right behind them. I like that when I get groceries, the man who works in the bike shop next door, that calls himself Tony Montana, will help me carry them even if it's only for a block. I like that if I'm short a dollar at the store next door, they'll spot me until the next time I come in, which would most likely be the next day. I like that I can almost always guess which stop any particular person will get off of the train. I look down streets and remember the drunken night of wayward bike riding, with two on my bike and crashing into the parking meter. Laughing for hours. Or when we rode around and pretended to be a bike gang, riding all day, having so much fun that we didn't realize how exhausted we were until we got home. Sore for days. I love walking down Robling and remembering last Christmas when we walked our Christmas tree home in the snow. When we'd get tired we'd slam it into the packed snow, securing it there and proceeding to sing Christmas carols until we had regained our energy to carry it the rest of the way. I like that almost every corner brings back a memory.
I feel like this neighborhood is too safe to be scary. And too scary to be safe. For those who don't know Williamsburg, Brooklyn, it is filled with old warehouses. Williamsburg is right on the water and used to be full of factories and warehouses with a few neighborhoods sprinkled in between. Then the L train happened. A train that connects directly to Manhattan in less than ten minutes and boom, the young people started pouring in. There are now basically two types of people that live here. Older people and families who have lived here long before the L train came, and post-graduate artistic types who are often called "Hipsters". With all of the new people coming here in the 90s, lots of restuarants and bars and clothing stores came that were geared towards this new age of residents. It seems like it's a scary place, and especially at night, it looks scary. Sometimes it is. You're walking down a residential street and all the sudden, you're surrounded by big scary warehouses. Deserted warehouses. It's ugly and unsettling. But when you're walking around, there's young people everywhere. Around every corner, hanging outside of some bar in a warehouse you never knew was there. You are surrounded by people just like you, and I love it. Sure it's as dangerous as any other place, and it'll keep you on your toes, but it's outward apperance can be misleading. I like that though. I like that you don't recognize the good restuarants by their flashy advertising. I like having to be in "the know" for a lot of the best places in this neighborhood.
And all of this came to me last night when I was walking home. I was thinking about how I was leaving so soon, moving away, moving across the country, and I started to look around at the familiar streets. A Jack Osbourne look alike passed me by, and looking inside windows I could see lofts in warehouses with huge portraits on the wall and 20 foot ceilings. There were two police officers looking into a subway trap door on the street with flashlights. They were yelling, "Hello!" as I passed by. One of them cursed loudly, and I assumed it was because the bad guy had gotten away in a police chase made for the movies. One where the bad guy lifted the safety door and jumped onto the tracks, running through the tunnels for freedom. I watched the police officer pull his hand back towards him and turn his palm over. It was covered in grease and he was looking at it as if it were the most disgusting thing he's ever witnessed. (Those NYPD are tough!) If my scenario were correct, they were not going in after said subject, and were much more concerned with the grease on Number two's hand. If they aren't worried, I shouldn't be, right?
I'm going to miss this place. In the least creepy way possible, I like looking into windows as I pass by. Looking at the homes people have made themselves. I like being surrounded by tons of people who are just like me. I like watching people on the street, wondering their professions. I like laying in my bed and watching people on the street below fighting, or kissing, or singing, kicking trashcans, or just walking around aimlessly. I hate that I could never feel at home here. I love that this is my neighborhood, I just wish it were my home.
After my previous post, I had a request for a few samples of my favorite depressing songs. Seeing as this request came from possibly my only reader, I find it important to keep her happy. So here's my top ten in all its glory.
1. Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright: Set Fire To The Third Bar-The soulful piano and beautiful voices of both Gary Lightbody and Martha Wainwright would put you in a trance even if they were singing about diaper changes. Of course, they aren't. They sing of a doomed relationship, perhaps a long-distance one. The great thing about these lyrics is that they are just vague enough to be able to apply to many different situations. The listener can take their own interpretation of the lyrics. For me this song is about the person who you can never get; the unrequited love.
"I'm miles from where you are. I lay down, on the cold ground. I pray that something picks me up, and sets me down, in your warm arms."
2. Bright Eyes: Gold Mined Gutted-Nearly anything by Bright Eyes has a tendency to twist the knife a little bit in your wallowing. To me, this song is all about always being so close to what you want, but never being able to get it. It's about you being your own worst enemy. The song itself is a tad eerie but not as whiny as people often claim Bright Eyes to be. Great song.
"From the sidelines, you see me run, until I'm out of breath. Living the good life, I'm left for dead. The sorrowful midwest, well I did my best, to keep my head."
3. Under The Influence of Giants-Lay Me Down-I can't say enough about this band. Every song is wonderful in its own way. The self-titled album boasts many songs that will make you dance. This one, however, is much slower and originally drew me to the band. This song is about getting comfort from a loved one. Or wanting comfort that you can't get. Love the music, love the vocals, just all in all, great song.
"Give me a sign, say it's okay. Need it to make it through the day. Give me your hand, sell me your soul. I need it so I can feel controlled."
4. Oasis: Don't Look Back in Anger (Live Version)-Oh man. This song. This song has some serious personal reasons for my adoration. It's about something ending but instead of being mad, and 'looking back in anger', you remember the good times and keep it holy for what it once was. The lyrics, "You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out" are carved on the backside of my iPod. One of my favorite songs of all time. And one of the most heart-breaking.
"You said that you've never been, but all the things that you've seen, are gonna fade away. So we start a revolution from my bed, cause you said the brains I had, went to my head. Step outside, the summertime's in bloom. Stand up beside the fireplace, take that look from off your face, cause you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out. And so Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by. Her soul slides away. 'Don't look back in anger', I heard you say."
Even better, the MTV Unplugged performance of this song.
5. Stars: Elevator Love Letter-Wow, another one of my favorites. To me, this song is about getting so caught up in work, and forgetting about the other aspects of your life. I'm sure this song could be taken in many ways, but that's the one that resonates most with me. Taking it at it's most literal. The song is a little more upbeat, but the melancholy vocals will break your heart.
"I'm so high for a rich girl, my heels are high, my eyes cast low. And I don't know how to love. I get too tired after midday, maybe. I take it out on my good friends, but the worst days end. Oh where would I begin?"
6. The Knife: Heartbeats-Okay all of these are in my favorites so I'm going to stop repeating that. This song is a little more upbeat in the tempo, but again, the lyrics are beautifully depressing. To me it's about a broken engagement, or promise, and the intensity that follows such a parting. A huge fight or a passionate Friends-style bonus night. Again, different interpretations. The vocals are just so touching, you think that in some parts of the song, the singer's voice is cracking. If you can't feel the emotions in this one, I'd ask about your sanity. But, hey, I'm not judging.
"One night to be confused, one night to speed up truth. We had a promise made, four hands and then away. Both under influence, we had divine scent, to know what to say. Mind is a razor blade. To cry for hands up above, to lean on, wouldn't be good enough for me, no."
I couldn't find a sample online, plus the video is super-amazing, so I just embedded it here. I'd watch once with your eyes closed, and then the second time, watching the actual video.
7. Will Oldham: New Partner-This song may not be as much depressing as it is, moving. It's almost a love song, but with such a tender beat and the groveling voice of Will Oldham, I find myself wanting to listen to this song more when I'm depressed than I'd expect. It's beautiful, and even though it is such a sweet and peaceful subject matter, it makes me want to cry.
"There's a black tinted sunset with the prettiest of skies Lay back, lay back, rest your head on my thighs There is some awful action that just breathes from my hand Just breaths from a deed so exquisitely grand.
And you are always on my mind
Well, I would not have moved if I knew you were here Its some special action with motives unclear Now you'll haunt me, you'll haunt me Till I've paid for what I've done It's a payment which precludes the having of fun
And you are always on mind But hello, I've got a new partner riding with me I'v got a new partner, hello
Now the sun's fading faster, we're ready to go There's a skirt in the bedroom that's pleasantly low And the loons on the moor, the fish in the flow And my friends, my friends still will whisper hello We all know what we know, it's a hard swath to mow When you think like a hermit you forget what you know
And you are always on my mind I've got a new partner, riding with me I've got a new partner now."
Again, no sample. I included all of the lyrics because all I could find for a sample was this live version. It's Will Oldham, aka Bonnie "Prince" Billy, performing the song:
8. Camera Obscura: Books Written For Girls-I'm tempted to write all of the lyrics down for this one. Whew, it's amazing. A little gem I found accidentally, but couldn't have come at a better time in my life. It's about disappointment, whether you are the disappointed or disappointer. It's about how things can appear to be one way, but in reality, it's much different. It's about that heartbreak that follows being let down. Just an amazing, touching song. And yes, I will include all of the lyrics because really, it is that good.
"You can compliment me on the style of my hair GIve me marks out of ten for the clothes that I wear You probably thought I had more upstairs.
I disappoint you. Can't see through your perfect smile.
He likes to read books written for girls. He prides himself on being a man of the world. In the darkest of places he gets his thrills.
He will disappoint you If you see through his perfect smile.
I think separation is okay. You're no star to guide me anyway. You only wanted me to play, A fool...played by your rules.
Now my door has swollen from the rain. God knows we'll never see her face again. People get shattered in many ways.
They can disappoint you. When you see through Their perfect smile."
9. Death Cab For Cutie: A Lack of Color-Okay, this song is fantastic. I used to hate this band, for no real reason unfortunately. I just thought they were overhyped and had become too much of a symbol for that revolution of "indie-pop" that I so loathed. One day, I was at a friend's house and this song came on. I had to know who this band was. Of course, it ended up being none other than Death Cab. It didn't take me long to find many songs of theirs that I enjoyed and I quickly threw out all that I thought I knew of indie-pop. I apologized to the band for not giving them a chance sooner and vowed not to make that mistake again. "A Lack of Color" remains one of my favorites. It's about how we take things for granted, be it the amazing way our bodies work, ("...I really see you upside down. But my brain knows better, it picks you up and turns you around..."), or the people that we love and forget to appreciate. For me, this song is all about not knowing what you got till it's gone. Heartbreaking.
"All the girls in every girly magazine, can't make me feel any less alone. I'm reaching for the phone, to call a 703, on your machine, I slur a plea for you to come home. But I know it's too late, I should have given you a reason to stay."
10.Sufjan Stevens: For The Widows In Paradise, For The Fatherless In Ypsilanti-This is a classic and always makes it on my lists of depressing music. Amazing use of banjo and a wonderful voice. This song can mean so many different things. It is definitely religiously driven, but in an unobtrusive way. It could also be about a love and all that applies there. There's also a story floating around the internet that when this song was played live, the explanation of it was that Sufjan visited a town in Michigan called Paradise. It was an odd little town and there seemed to be no men. He said that he wrote this song, devising this story in his head that all the men had died in war, and the women were left behind and formed this community of mothers, sisters, daughters, grandmothers, and friends. They had their own world and took over.
With any interpretation, it's beautiful.
"I was dressed embarrassment. I was dressed in wine. If you had a part of me, will you take you're time? Even if I come back, even if I die, is there some idea to replace my life?"
As I finish this, I find still have more to add. There's so much wonderful music in this world! I love it. I'm sure more of these lists will come along in the future. Keep an eye out.
I listen to my iPod on shuffle and wonder when I fell into this coma of depressing music. There's no need to make sleep mixes anymore. The happy songs are so few and far between that I'm usually long asleep by the time any of them roll around. "Aw, that's sad," you might say. "She needs light in her life," you may suggest. You may even recommend me some of the best music ever to lift me out of my narcoleptic music slump. Well stop those interventions right now my friend. This is completely self-induced and I take any and all credit for any damage done to my psyche.
My favorite kind of depressing music is kind where the singer comes out of the speaker and jumps in your throat and all of the sudden, they make you want to cry because they're in you, or maybe are you. And you wonder if that's why you are so tired at work. Nights spent recording records and touring and your body is so shocked and emotionally tired that you just forget. You're pretty sure people would totally believe that it's just another artistic quirk of yours. Unwilling to speak of or even recongnize that this is your line of work. (You also wonder where those paychecks are and hope that your alter-ego didn't donate them to the environment because you have credit card bills.)
Back on track here. My iPod and its need of the music that makes you want to cry. It's the vocals that do it for me. I've never been a huge fan of ambient music, even when Sigur Ros ruled my school. Techno has never been my thing, and maybe not just because of the lack of vocals. I need to hear a person. I need to connect. I need to feel like they are struggling to get the next line out. This doesn't necessarily mean sleepy music or whiny lyrics. In fact, the more the music contradicts the lyrics, the better. The more hopeful and upbeat the music, paired with lyrics that rip you to shreds, the more I'll love it.
And when you're depressed, it's the best! I am a reveler. When I'm feeling low, I want to be surrounded by my most depressing music. I want to wallow and feel sorry for myself. I like to write down the lyrics to Bright Eyes songs. Almost always one of these lines will relate to me and make me want to write something myself. It's a cycle that I've come to love and appreciate.
Sad music really makes depression fun again.
I guess I don't always listen to the woe-is-me music. I do have some more upbeat bands that I listen to. (But even they sing about being lost, cheated on, or poor.)
I used to do the Song of the Moment in my sidebar. I was thinking about bringing it back, but maybe I'll just do it inside the actual blog and put a handy-dandy tag on it. "SOTM".
Okay, so all this talk about depressing music and my SOTM is actually not completely depressing. It's called "Mama's Room" by Under the Influence of Giants. Go here for a sample. You'll probably have to click on the song title to listen. I love all of their stuff, but currently this song is my fav. It inspired a late night, "making a grilled cheese and drinking a beer, dancing alone in my kitchen" routine the other night. Like I said earlier, the song is upbeat, but there's a lot more behind the lyrics. A song that can make me dance or cry? [Can't-compute-greatness.]
1. IF YOU COULD BUILD A SECOND HOUSE ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD IT BE? Wilmington, NC, to be able to visit my family for longer than a weekend and have it be enjoyable for all. 2. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING? These jeans that are so ratty I cry when I think about their imminent death. Each hole and tear has a story. Not to mention how cozy they are. 3. THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT? Amy Millan, "Honey From The Tombs" 4. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? Seven a.m. on weekdays, and noon on weekends. 5. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE KITCHEN APPLIANCE? Coffee maker. 6. IF YOU COULD PLAY AN INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Violin. I love the sound and think it's pretty sexy. 7. FAVORITE COLOR? Red. It has such a variety of things it's associated with. It reminds me of me. 8. WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SPORTS CAR OR SUV? SUV. Not a gas-guzzler. In fact, a hybrid SUV would be perfect. 9. DO YOU BELIEVE IN AFTERLIFE? In some senses. 10. FAVORITE CHILDREN’S BOOK? If You Give a Mouse a Cookie 11. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON? Fall-I wish it lasted longer. A relief from the bright rays of summer, with cool breezes and holidays to come. 12. IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPER POWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE? To live as someone else for one day. 13. IF YOU HAVE A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT? I don't have one, but a geometry influenced sailboat makes me want to go into the next tattoo shop I see. 14. CAN YOU JUGGLE? Nope. 15. NAME ONE PERSON FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO. My grandmother. She always wanted to tell me about her life, and I never sat still enough to listen. 16. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE DAY? Sunday. Because they are almost always lazy and usually involve brunch. 17. WHAT’S IN THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR? *sob* (I currently am without automobile) 18. WHICH DO YOU PREFER SUSHI OR HAMBURGER? Hamburger. 19. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER? Lillies. 20. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MEAL? Barbeque chicken on the grill and homemade macaroni and cheese, with Kraft barbeque sauce for dipping 21. DO YOU PREFER DOGS OR CATS? Dogs 22. WHAT IS MORE IMPORTANT GOOD LOOKS OR A SENSE OF HUMOR? Sense of humor. There's a beauty in everyone. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder. 23. WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT IN LIFE SO FAR? Getting a business card with my desired profession on it.
This blog entry is very scary. How do I sum up all the things that have been happening in my life here? It's been so long. On so many occasions something has happened and I knew I had to write a blog entry. My life is measured in blog entry ideas and gathering myspace items, (be it pictures, quotes, or even friends). After taking a good picture, it is declared, "that is your new myspace photo". Twice yesterday, things were said that immediately were assigned as "my new headline". ("Makes depression fun again" being the only memorable of the two.)
An alien, time-travler, or grandparent would be lost in this new world. The way we talk, the things we do. I read a letter from 1934 from my grandfather to my grandmother. It was the most sincere, lovely letter I've ever read. A real love letter. (Postage and all). There has to be something so intimate about receiving a love letter. The other person licked the envelope. For some reason I find that so intimate. Like they are sealing this thing that only they will share. My mother still hasn't read it. She can't bring herself to do it. I told her it was great. My grandfather calls my grandmother an angel and pledges, "we will be together until we die". They were.
My mom and her two brothers had the very difficult task of cleaning out their parents house. They found a box of similar letters. They were all in such a hurry, they all picked one and threw the rest away. One of her brother's got one to my grandmother from another man. I try not to be sad knowing that the rest of those letters are probably incinerated by now.
I wish my grandparents could have seen the Nintendo Wii. They would have thought it was the most amazing thing ever. They were mystified by their Gateway.
The people across the street painted their door yellow. That makes me feel like a character from a book. The yellow door.
I love that complete strangers say I'm a talented writer.
I love Veronica Mars now. I think it's the best tv show on television.
I often feel like a character from one of Pamela Ribon's books. I feel like I could be best friends with Pamela Ribon. That makes me feel like a crazed stalker. I'm not.
I've fallen in love with my Brooklyn neighborhood. As much as I hate New York, sometimes I love it with equal passion. Ever since I've declared I was moving to Los Angeles, this place hasn't seemed all that bad. That always happens, doesn't it? I like waving to people on the street, because we see each other everyday. I like that even though the liquor liscence of the store next door was revoked, I can still buy beer there by going into the back room and picking out my desired brand. They double bag it. I love that on New Year's Eve, they were giving out shots to all their patrons. I love that at one point in the evening, I took a shot with about fifteen strangers. I love that I see most of the same people everyday, and I've become a regular in many places. I love getting the deals that only the regulars get.
I love that when New York let me down the most, strangers were there to help.
It was last week, my dog had been sick. So sick that on Sunday night, I got little to no sleep. I was up every fourty five minutes, almost on the dot, taking my dog outside. She had diarrhea. (Such an ugly word that I'm now immune to.) It didn't go away. I stayed home from work on Monday, and on Monday night, it seemed to be getting better. She was going about four hours without having to go. It was an improvement. I was feeding her nothing but boiled rice, and she seemed her normal self, only a little tired and wouldn't eat or drink much water. By Tuesday, I had to go to work. I left the office early and when I came home, she had used the old towel I had laid out for her. She had also used the floor, in what could only be a last resort. It wasn't her usual diarrhea, This had blood in it. A lot it seemed. In all the research I had done on doggy diarrhea, the one thing I knew was that blood was bad. Very bad. I called my vet who directed me to the Animal Hospital. They told me to bring her in ASAP. They were located on 62nd st and York Ave. I freaked. I didn't own a crate. That was the first thought that went through my mind. I didn't have a car. I needed to somehow get her there and knew that most car companies, if not all, didn't allow uncrated dogs. This is when I cursed New York. I was trapped and this was the thing I had always feared. Desperately needing a car, and not having one. I always thought this would be how I died. A natural disaster and no way to evacuate. Being trapped. One of my biggest beefs with this city. I wasn't going to let my dog die. And from the tone of the woman's voice from the hospital, this was a life or death situation.
I called my friend completely lost in what to do. I asked her to buy me a crate and I would meet her by the store. I think I was hysterical. She told me I didn't need a crate. That I should call Northside, (our local car service), and tell them my situation. I did and through my tears, explained what was happening. The guy responsed without hesitation, "I'll be there in five minutes." I grabbed my dog, (and the thinnest jacket known to man, dumb adrenaline), and jetted from my apartment. Ran into the store next door, and asked if I could bring my dog in to use their ATM. They said yes. I got money and by the time I was out, my savior was outside waiting. He was the nicest man ever. He kept telling me she'd be fine and even offering to put on his emergency lights and go in the emergency lane. I couldn't believe how great he was. I guess I didn't have much faith in strangers here in NY. He certainly didn't have to pick me up, much less be so nice about everything.
I get to the hospital in record time, and thank him profusely, trying to tip him way too much. He declines and only takes half. We can't see the hospital but traffic is so bad, I tell him I can find it. I know it's near this intersection. He starts to ask other strangers where it is, when I spot it. Once I get my dog in, I wait two hours, watching emergency dog after emergency dog go in. I sit there with my dog going to the bathroom on the floor twice, with the receptionist telling me I couldn't take her out because they were going to call my name any moment now. To just let her go on the floor and someone would clean it up. I sat there watching nearly everyone in the place crying for some reason or another. I watched people leave teary eyed empty handed. I watched the nervous glances darting around the room everytime a code anything went across the intercom system.
I rarely wish that I had a boyfriend. There are always moments, but for the most part, I have this single thing down. This evening, sitting in the animal emergency waiting room, by myself, scared and sad, I needed someone. Everyone had someone there for them, so they could use the bathroom, or step outside to make a phone call, or get them something from the snack machine. I hadn't eaten dinner, I hadn't called my mother, I hadn't used the bathroom in hours. And Hopper was getting restless. I needed to get out of the vortex of sad, but couldn't move. I had to stay there and wait for them to call my name. I needed to cry. And did a little, but not like I wanted. I wanted to be in the fetal position and with my mother patting my head saying it would be okay. I needed someone to tell me it was going to be okay. I watched all these pet owners being comforted by their significant other, and was jealous.
We finally got called in, and the doctor was great. He was nice and understanding when I told him, yes, money is an issue for me. He mentioned a possibility of an overnight stay and I tearfully explained that a two thousand dollar overnight stay isn't in the cards. There's literally no possible way for me to pay for that. I broke down at the prospect of me not being able to get my dog the best care possible because of my monetary restraints. The doctor was great and said that we'd deal with it if it was necessary, but he didn't think it was. He took Hopper and sent me back to the waiting room. I felt a little guilty to be so relived to have her off my hands for just a few minutes. I knew she was in better hands than mine at the moment, and I needed to pee. I needed something to drink. I needed to go outside and call my mom and break down. I had been holding it back for far too long.
When they brought her back out to me, she seemed happy, and normal. She was wagging her tail, and smiling, and I was relived, but felt so guiltly for having a seemingly heathly, happy dog. Especially for the couple in front of me, with the dog that was bleeding and had been waiting for far too long.
When the doctor came out to explain to me what the results showed. She had some sort of a parasite, or bacteria, or something small and unwelcome. The results were thankfully positive. She had great results. He put her on some medicine and a diet for the next 48 hours, just boiled chicken and rice. I took a doggy taxi home, (who knew such a thing exsisted), and within 48 hours, she had her first solid poop in what seemed to be a year. Cartwheels.
In some weird, twisted way, this city is livable. Things work out, and people are great in times of crisis. Faith was restored in humanity and in the backwards way things seem to work around here, I survived a crisis the best I could.
-Great Saturday night with hatches, strangers, dance party extraordinaires, twins, sombreros (see left), missed connections, calling a complete stranger a fashion victim to his face (Yikes!), AND nachos!
ps: Anyone else know that Kiefer Sutherland's real name is Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland? (I did that from memory, but here's your proof.) Yeah!
