New Arrivals

I’ll admit; I’ve been a bit on edge lately. I keep trying to “re-center” myself, but I’m still too spiritually wobbly. I’ve tried humming in quiet spaces with tofu and incense. I’ve tried chanting, steaming, crying, and jogging. I’ve even tried alcohol. Nothing.

I blame the abounding weddings. They’ve loosened a screw or four. Why, just yesterday, Daniel was asked to be an usher at another one of these things next June. Ahhh! What’s the antidote for being “wedding-ed out?” Hmmm? Only hanging wif single friends? Promiscuity? Happiness?

I digress. Today, I received an electronic “announcement” from a girlfriend who moved from Austin three days before I left. One of many reasons she left was to be with her boyfriend. Since her move to his town, she has landed a job at the university there. She bought a house soon thereafter. When I read the subject line in her e-mail, my heart stopped.

“Not another one,” I thought. Instead of reaching for the mouse, I grabbed the nearest tissue. I took a deep breath and realized that it is totally impractical to vomit into a tissue. I’d need a bag, but not one of those good bags from Saks or Bergdorf Goodman.

It was one of those things again, informing me of young love gone wed. I wasn’t sure if I could handle another. We all have our breaking points. What about points of breaking up, huh? Any one?

I sat and stared at the screen and figured that I’d have to face my fear. What the hell? It was right after lunch. I did just start a new diet, and it’s been a bit slow to work. I could have used a good puke courtesy of Cupid.

I downloaded the scanned attachment. I couldn’t tell if the photo was of the bridegroom, a member of his family, a lawyer, or an animal. As the anticipatory pre-vomit glaze fell from my eyes, I saw a dog whom they call Stella. She was announcing her new dog, not the new human husband thing that seems so hip these days.

Except for the dating I’ve done, I’d never been fond of dogs. Bringing one into your home is like saying, “I don’t have enough to clean. I need a challenge, perhaps something to walk around here shedding and getting into everything. Oh! And, he has to promise not to wipe his ass so that it all sticks to his fur so that he brings it anywhere he goes.”

Please understand; I love animals. I boycott fur and hygienic products which are tested on our furry friends. I’m an ardent vegetarian. But, when they in my space, in my home, I sneeze and smell shit everywhere. Not kosh.

I suppose it’s a relief. I want to congratulate homegirl. I mean, it could be worse. It could have been a child on the way, or even worse and more helpless, a husband. Kidding. Kind of.