Blood is thicker than water

I was thinking about health today, and growing older, and drinking water or forgetting to. My parents are such good water-drinkers — it's part of their routine to get glasses of water before bed, and if I were an excellent host I'd always leave a carafe of freshly filtered water by their bed when they come to visit.*

Anyway, I was just drinking some water and thinking about water and dehydration and realizing that lately every time I realize suddenly that I haven't been drinking enough water, I think of this one phlebotomist who was disappointed in me because I was dehydrated and she couldn't find a good vein. But...phlebotomists love me, I thought. How can this be possible? "When did you last drink water?" she asked me, frowning. I was instructed to fast for twelve hours, so it had been twelve hours since I drank water. Still, I felt I'd let her down, and vowed never to disappoint another phlebotomist again.






*Note to self: add carafe to wish list. Also, filter. 

Eighth Grade

Brave and lonely girl
Every heartbreaking detail
Rings tender and true

Rabbit rabbit

Cap know what do.

Maybe, just maybe, September will be the month I stop neglecting this goldurned blorg.

Rabbit rabbit!

Pinteresting

I love the tiny glimpse into people's lives I get from what they're pinning on Pinterest. Is Holly thinking of getting an Airstream trailer for real? I know she's mulling over lesson plans and jewelry making. Zoë is making lots of salads, or at least dreaming of salads. She rarely pins recipes for sweets, but when she does, it's something fruity. Emily is excited about her new house (a fixer-upper), and is particularly focused on the bathroom. And the yard — the new place must have a well. Jeannette's been knitting, Amy may be thinking of adding chickens to her flock and swapping out bedroom furniture. Erin covets a beautiful new rug. Megan is still singing, Ella's contemplating a bullet journal. Several friends are interested in bourbon drinks and butt exercises.

Small things

There have been recent reports of people being bitten by rabid foxes — not here, but in a nearby town. This makes me so sad for the foxes, on the one hand, and has also caused me to rethink my emotional relationship to the foxes I (rarely) see in Portland. A couple of weeks ago, I was walking both dogs at night when I saw what was probably a fox across the street (Gus was barking his head off, so probably a fox), and instead of running off like they usually do, it just stood there. Which seemed odd, unless it was maybe a cat.

Not so long ago, I drove past a dead gull on the street. It was on its back with its little bird legs sticking straight up in the air, like a dead cartoon gull.

Even though I had to drive around the block twice and ended up parking blocks away, and even though I had to turn over my debit card to the tune of $100 for flea and tick tablets, and even though I completely forgot to make Theo an appointment for his yearly stuff, I had a great ten minutes at the vet today. Some days, the things that make Portland feel like a small town are so sweet. Todd the receptionist, who's married to Tommy, who owns the cafe where Isaac worked one summer, asking after him. And Ina the receptionist, who's worked at the vet forever and is probably the kindest person on the planet, asking how Gus's joints are doing. Small things.

I started training today for Crisis Text Line, and I feel like I'm in college.

Rabbit rabbit