just a big kid, really.

my (other) man.

a note to mr. scott or whatever you real name is...

dear mr. owner of somewhat-cool gym i attend.

while i appreciate the dim lights. the cool art. and the no-meat head mentality...please, please fix the best treadmill. i believe her name is bette. the other ones are screwy and it makes me want to cry.

also, maybe it's not the best idea to have vh1's "hottest beach bods EVER" playing in front of the treadmills on a dreadfully humid saturday morning. i mean, seeing cameron diaz in her bikini isn't exactly making me feel better about myself.

thanks for listening,

yours truly (because i paid for a year membership at one time,)

PG

spew.

i feel like i'm in this chasm between who i was and who i'm becoming. and there's an increasing level of discomfort here. like i'm waiting for something to happen. for the heavens to open sending god's hand down to hold mine while he physically leads me to my next task. like he would a dog. that's sort of how i've been viewing god.

i think the part i forget is the faith part. it's about trying and failing and learning. and how sometimes no success is better than success because it teaches. and stretches. and molds you into this person who is mature and self-aware and focused and goal-driven and god-minded and anyway, i'd prefer if i could just go on a walk with god and he could tell me what i'm in for.

see, there are these deep, guttural yearning that god puts in us. to belong. to be accepted. to be loved. to have community. to have fulfilling relationships with people who build us up and affirm us and support us and who lovingly tell us when it seems we're walking off the path we want to stay on --- yearnings that when unfulfilled, leave empty pits in our very souls.

but people aren't perfect. they've let me down. i'm learning to trust again. and i'm realizing that no love can be as perfect as god's love, and anyway i've been spending too much time mulling over lostness. lost friends. lost relationships. lost possessions and hopes and dreams. and dogs.

and i have this anger toward people who don't care to know my side of the story. of why i'm here. of how i'm healing and growing and changing. of why i had to do what i did. and it's these people, these representations of god, who have failed me. and i've failed them, i suppose. and really, we just all need to stop failing each other.

so from now on, i refuse to let bitterness rob me of my joy.

i think i'll take a walk with god tonight.

recovering.

kolby james is in recovery mode. but he doesn't know it. he has so much energy it's ridiculous.

for the next few weeks i have to keep him and the cat as separate as possible. you'd think it would be easy to keep a cat and a dog apart. but these two are best friends. and they like to play rough. this rough play usually involves the cat's claws all over kolby's face. which scares me always. but especially after eye surgery. so that's cool.

k's going to get to stay at this awesome doggie boarding place for part of next week when i'm in atlanta to visit b's dad. he's way more social with other dogs than gus ever was. so he should love the open-environement atmosphere. no kennels means a happy dog mommy.

in other news, i'm going to HAWAII in six months.
my wallet is experiencing labor pains, but i'm trying to ignore that. because it's fricking Hawaii.

warning.

to all dog owners.

the little bugger is in surgery...

today, the k-man is having his third eyelid removed. it's making my stomach hurt.

questions.

am i really making any kind of positive difference in anyone's life? am i living for what i really believe in? and helping and giving and loving and forgiving? what purpose am i serving and are my motives right?

i wish answering the question, "what am i here for?" was easier.

can't god just send me an email with an assignment, a location and a post script line about not whining about it?

mourning.

when i was in 7th grade, my dad became "the flower man." and i became the flower man's daughter. 16 years later, he closed the doors of the flower and wine shop on gregory. the one that everyone knew. the one that i would pull up to on any given lunch break with a sub sandwich and some venting to do. sometimes, i'd cry. sometimes we'd laugh. but always, i knew where i could find my daddy.

as of last saturday, he's not going to be there anymore.

i didn't realize how sad it made me until i broke down during dinner tonight with b. i'd made a rice casserole. you know, the kind that'll last all week. and we were eating it and having a glass of wine and he turned to me and asked, "what's wrong, jessi?" i stopped chewing and thought about it. i said, "i think maybe it's just pms...i don't really know what's bugging me. i'm just sort of sad." and then, i lost it. i realized why i was upset. and i cried and went on and on and on about how my life has changed. this staple, this flower shop, this part of my life that has been there since i was 12, is gone. and i know my dad will be happier. and that he didn't just close his business, he sold it. so he's walking away with something...with a lot.

but the part that rips my heart out...the part that really hurts is that it's the last "thing" that had his, and my mom's, stamp on it. he opened it with her help when they were still married. we lived down the street then, and it was a place we could walk to on weekends. my first job out of college was right across the street from his shop. and so, i'd stop by several times a week for lunch or just a chat. and even as my parent's marriage fell apart, and mom stayed in the leawood house, and he moved into the loft above his store, the actual store remained a constant. andy the dog was there. and i could visit whenever i wanted to. and last year, when i was going through the hardest time of my life, i sought refuge there often. i'd go up to the loft and sleep during the day when i just couldn't figure out what was wrong with me...in between doctor's appointments and leases to sign. i could go and talk to him because he'd listen. unbiased and with a soft heart. and no matter what came out of my mouth, i was his daughter and he was going to love me unconditionally.

it's not that any of that love is going away. it's just that it's going to have to be more carefully planned. like on weekends or holidays or dinners. because he isn't going to be the flower man anymore. he's going to have another job and he's going to live somewhere else. and i am going to miss what was with my whole heart.

i'm also going to have to start buying flowers somewhere else. and i don't think i can ever get past the thought that no matter where they're from, they're not as fresh as the ones from LeVine.

i have a concussion.

have you ever had one before? they suck.

my head hurts.

after a bang-up day at work (please sense my sarcasm,) i went to the gym. for some reason, 3.5 miles was all i could take. so i stopped and walked home. then, i almost tripped over kolby on the way downstairs to take him outside. i remember thinking that if i did trip over him and broke my neck in the fall, no one would know. anyway, we went outside with no big hiccups. but then, when i was back inside, i bent down to get something and hit my head harder than ever before on the shelf i "forgot" was there.

i feel all woozy and stuff now. and i'm tired and can't even be creative at all. not even in this post.

ugh.

how a sunny day ended up with a lice shampoo shower.

woke up. beautiful. sunny. crisp. clear. perfect day for a hike at shawnee mission park. pack the cooler. sparkling waters. granola bars. aluminum water bottles filled with tap water. shorts. socks. running shoes. tanks. park the car.

paved walking trail. looked good to me. steep cliff up to possible trail running trail looked good to B. i obliged. all-the-while saying, "shouldn't we be wearing long pants?" count three seconds. B freaks out, looks at socks. shoes. legs. covered in seed ticks. thousands of them. me, too.

run out of woods. onto paved trail. take shoes off. socks, too. try to get seed ticks off. impossible. run into public restroom. stick feet, legs in sink. arms, hands, face, shoes, too. ugh.

look up seed ticks on iPhone on 30-minute drive home. learn to treat hair with lice shampoo. stop at cvs, barefoot. go in, buy shampoo. 20-minutes later, apply shampoo to hair and body. clothes and shoes in the washing machine. shower. put on other clothes. wait.

put clothes, shoes and socks into dryer on high. wait.

take shoes out. the ticks are STILL crawling in the shoes.

try again.

more success.

go on 3.4 mile run to blow off steam.

then make really fattening stuffed chicken breasts with butter sauces. because it was that kind of day.

if cleanliness is next to godliness, the dmv is smack dab in the middle of hell.

i really believe everything that is wrong with the world begins at the dmv. it is full of misinformed, bitter people. it's not convenient. it smells, is fluorescently lit and probably has oodles of germs living on the chairs that are sat in for too long by disgruntled people. i avoid it like the plague, but my temporary plates expire tomorrow, so i had break my rule and pay it a visit.

i tried to do all this last friday, but learned i needed to ge my car inspected somewhere else (i'm used to the kansas laws.) so, monday i did that. and today, i headed to the dmv, paperwork in hand, at noon. i took a number and was surprised by how quickly i was called. i was changing my mind about the dmv. this place isn't so bad, i thought. until two seconds later when the cashier told me i needed to get a personal property tax waiver. from the courthouse. downtown. OMFG.

so i drive downtown, find a place to park and enter the courthouse where they confiscate my pepper spray and send me into a room with another line. once my name is called, i sit down infront of a man who is chewing a huge mouthful of his lunch. food still being chewed, hands yucky with bits of sandwich, he writes down on a piece of paper that i need to obtain a bank statement from january of 2006 and january of 2007 in order to prove residency. great.

so i drive to the bank - the most logical place to get a bank statement right? wrong. they can only go back six months, and have to ORDER ones from farther back. the'yre also $9 a pop and won't be in until tuesday.

joy.

so, very much frustrated and hungry i head to cosco because i need some stuff to take to my mom's for dinner tonight. thirty minutes later, i'm at the checkout where i learn my membership is expired and i need to renew. fun.

but back to the dmv. why do they make it all so incredibly difficult? i think they take pleasure in watching people like me squirm.

and please, dear police officers, don't pull me over tomorrow or the next day or the next day. i'm trying ito register my car. it's not my fault. it's missouri's

i'm going to live to be 125.

i knew it.

the whole story.

saturday night, b and i ventured down to 18th and vine for a little culture. it wasn't hard to find.

for dinner, we ended up at kansas city blues and juke house. have you been there? it's a jazz club with a small menu and lots of men in fancy suits and hats at the bar - harold penner style. we sat outside because it was a nice night and ate craw fish, gumbo and baby back ribs on the patio.while we were figuring out if we wanted to suck the craw fish heads or not, one of the waiters went out to his buick, rolled down the windows, opened the doors and began bumping this R&B song. loud. he told the women sitting at the table next to us that the voice on the CD was him and that he, "needed publicity." this publicity went on for most of our dinner. so we had dinner music.

next, we went to the blue room for a random concert. it was the first time either of us had been in the presence of a jazz flautist. she was really good and we were really under-dressed. after an hour of jazz and doodling on b's new iPhone, we were ready to go. i was finishing my wine when b said, "i'll give you 100 bucks if you go out that emergency door." i thought about it and then replied, "i'll do it for $500." he said okay. and how could i not pass that up?

i almost did though. i walked with b to the front of the club when he turned to me and said, "see you out there." that was the little push i needed. i turned around and wasn't going to stop walking until i was out the emergency door. i walked right by the line of people heading out the front door with nothing but my mind on the money and the money on my mind. the alarm wasn't even that loud.

so now, i have $500 off of the ticket to hawaii i just bought yesterday and these iPhone doodles.

easy money.

last night, after a jazz concert at the blue room near 18th and vine, i was dared to go out the emergency exit for $500.

i did.

missing my gus gus.

two years ago on his second birthday. i miss you, mr. woof.
:(

food snob alert.

i know this is hard to believe, but i have nothing to do tomorrow night. so, tonight i insisted that b be social with me. he joyfully complied (since i put it on his calendar on monday,) and we went to harry's bar and tables. happy hour lasts until 7 and includes half-priced wine. in my opinion, you can't really go wrong with half-priced wine. so that was good. the food, though, was another story.

the guac was gross and was considered a "special of the house." and then we ordered the yellow-tail. which was way too well-done and ahi-like. so, we sent it back. in its place we ordered crab cakes. the cakes were good on their own, but the accompaniment of cooked spinach and bacon was bitter, and an odd choice. simply, it didn't "marry well" with the richness of the crab cakes.

and i haven't even mentioned our socially awkward, military-esque waiter who would come check on us and then say, "as you were."

so yeah, i'm glad i had sushi from bumblefish for lunch. and chocolate cake for lunch dessert. otherwise, i'd be starvin'.

hi.

i need a vacation.

i'd prefer to go somewhere warm with no humidity. it would be nice if they spoke french there. and if the food and drinks were free and abundant. but i don't want one of those all-inclusive resorty vacations. maybe a smattering of that mixed with some down-and-dirty, livin'-like-the-locals time. i'd also like to snorkel. shop. get a full-body massage (deep tissue, of course.) hike. run. sleep in. bathe in the sun. explore a new city on foot. bike next to the ocean. and have a moonlit dinner on the beach with my honey. all of that while discovering the best music i've never heard. the best food i've never eaten. the best sights i've never seen. the best clothes i've never tried on. the best air i've never breathed. and when it was all over, i would weep as i said au revior to paradise.

k-man the update.

kolby is a resilient little bubba. he's just a little stiff but the vet said he's running around there, playing with the other dogs.

but BUT his prolapsed third eyelid is going to send my wallet into the negative $1300 range.

and i thought gus was an expensive dog.

...

this morning, kolby fell from a 10 foot loft onto the ground.

i heard him screaming.

he's at the vet.

they haven't called me yet.

i'm freaking out.

also...

i've been having the strangest emotion lately toward the idea of being a mom one day. it makes we weep. like, WEEP weep. in a good way. and i've never had this reaction before. it used to make me shrug and say, "maybe someday."

i also find myself being unhealthily envious of pregnant women. like i look at them and think, "wow, they are fulfilling their potential. they are growing life. they are growing family."

is it because i'm almost 30?

anyway, for the record, i think the brangelina baby farm is a bit much. that many would make me weep, too. not in a good way.

now please, internet, hear me well. i don't want to have a baby NOW. but i do want to have one someday. the "maybe" part of the equation has gone by the wayside. for now at least.

the ick.

i have this thing happening inside of me today. and i don't quite understand it. maybe it's god speaking to me. maybe it's anxiety. whatever it is, it's making me uneasy. i think i need a big hug. some cookies and milk and some cuddle time. pronto.

this weekend...

friday night i saw my niece and then had sushi at domo with amy. it was amazing as always. then we walked around the block we grew up on and i took her home. when i got back to b's, i noticed kolby had a bulging red thing over his eyeball. after a trip to mission med vet, i learned that it's a prolapsed third eyelid. and that it's common in small breeds. but it doesn't fix itself. i need to follow up with my vet tomorrow and consider surgery. fun.

mission med vet, by the way, is the most depressing place i've ever been. when we got there, a family was in tears over the loss of their dog. and as we were waiting to be discharged, we witnessed a woman being given her dead cat in a box. she tried to get her son to leave, but he was too upset to move, so she sat down in the waiting room, opened the box, and began to stroke the white fur of her cat -- all while moaning, "oh, precious. oh, oh."

needless to say, i was in tears.

got home about 11:30 that night, woke up at 7:30 saturday for a 4-mile run. and then went off to womego kansas to visit b's sister. that's where i ate the most amazing chicken of my life. why so amazing you ask? because it was topped with mustard, herbed BUTTER. omg.

and because you've read all the way through this post without quitting, you must care that i watched charlie wilson's war last night. was unimpressed. went to church this morning. looked at houses, and then went on another run.

now, time to make fish and veggies.

exciting huh?

:)

irony.

a vintage poster by an unknown artist from 1944.