It seems like I've been gone for a few days, although I cannot say exactly where. Getting ready for Bali, I suppose. I've said it before and I'll say it again--moving your life to the other side of the world is no easy task.
This, combined with continually waking up at 3 a.m. makes existence a bit disconnected, surreal. Foggy.
In an attempt to tie up loose ends before disappearing into the jungle, I contacted my younger step-daughter, Jamila. This ended up in the usual sort of e-mail comedy wherein her mother becomes the central figure in the issue. Our prospective relationship, you see, must not ever allow the mention of her mother's name. This is difficult, as the actual reason we even know each other stems from my relationship with her mother (lol). Jamila's mother, as it happens, is a vengeful, bitter, hateful, self absorbed Shrew who will not hesitate to taint the poor girl's mind when the subject is yours truly (note, the poor girl is 31 now, yet still quite taintable). I seek therefore to protect myself by employment of the snow white shield of truth and reason.
It turns out that truth and reason are also disallowed.
Moving on then. The day before yesterday our dogs were arrested and issued a warning ticket. As it happened, my wife, in the throes of one of her recurrent huffs, had left the house without closing the front gate. Forthwith, Smokey and Coco took advantage of the opportunity to explore the neighborhood, get acquainted with other dogs, and generally harass various innocent bypassers.
Coco, as was the story from the Multnomah County Animal Control officer, had attempted to bite an elderly woman on the ankle (thank God he has no teeth to speak of, right?), while Smokey, being very protective of the little dog, shouted rude insults at yet another passer-by as she tried to pick up Coco.
Well, very soon now both Coco and Smokey will be moving out anyway, as they cannot go with us to Bali.
Anyone want a Labrador? Chihuahua?
This, combined with continually waking up at 3 a.m. makes existence a bit disconnected, surreal. Foggy.
In an attempt to tie up loose ends before disappearing into the jungle, I contacted my younger step-daughter, Jamila. This ended up in the usual sort of e-mail comedy wherein her mother becomes the central figure in the issue. Our prospective relationship, you see, must not ever allow the mention of her mother's name. This is difficult, as the actual reason we even know each other stems from my relationship with her mother (lol). Jamila's mother, as it happens, is a vengeful, bitter, hateful, self absorbed Shrew who will not hesitate to taint the poor girl's mind when the subject is yours truly (note, the poor girl is 31 now, yet still quite taintable). I seek therefore to protect myself by employment of the snow white shield of truth and reason.
It turns out that truth and reason are also disallowed.
Moving on then. The day before yesterday our dogs were arrested and issued a warning ticket. As it happened, my wife, in the throes of one of her recurrent huffs, had left the house without closing the front gate. Forthwith, Smokey and Coco took advantage of the opportunity to explore the neighborhood, get acquainted with other dogs, and generally harass various innocent bypassers.
Coco, as was the story from the Multnomah County Animal Control officer, had attempted to bite an elderly woman on the ankle (thank God he has no teeth to speak of, right?), while Smokey, being very protective of the little dog, shouted rude insults at yet another passer-by as she tried to pick up Coco.
Well, very soon now both Coco and Smokey will be moving out anyway, as they cannot go with us to Bali.
Anyone want a Labrador? Chihuahua?
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