Writing Prompt: Bad Dog Owner! Bad!

I've been allowing Facebook to slowly drain out of my life over the past few months, and I'll admit, it's been shockingly difficult and liberating. The only trouble I keep running into is lack of information. Because Facebook is such an echo chamber of information (mostly garbage), most information is filtered through the site, and there is A LOT of information on the Information Super Highway.

I remember the commercials for the Information Super Highway when I was in, like 8th or 9th grade or something, with no freaking idea the impact it would have on EVERYTHING. There was a little girl, and she was British (hmmmm wonder why) and she was yammering on about the coming of the Information Super Highway...ooooOOOoooo.

Fast forward to yesterday. Yesterday, I did not get on Facebook but for a brief moment to promote myself (which I NEVER do so DON'T JUDGE ME); therefore, I was not aware of the fact that yesterday was National Puppy Day.

Then, whilst browsing today, I saw post after post of puppies galore, and it is tearing me apart (Lisa) that I did not even acknowledge it and post a giant shrine of pictures of Linus all over all of the Facebooks. I am the WORST.

Except...I'm not the worst. The worst is that, while the information super highway did change the world as we know it by putting all of the information that ever existed in this other realm where we can do whatever we want with it, it also put ALL OF THE INFORMATION THAT EVER EXISTED into this, like other dimension, where we can do whatever we want with it.

I'm not saying I'm mad at Facebook or National Puppy day or even any of the adorable posts on Facebook of puppies with parents that are way better than I am. Not at all. Puppies are magic.

However, I am saying, if there's one thing I've learned from Linus Marie Allen, it's that most of the stuff out there is just crap. The real stuff is right here at the end of your nose. Smell it. Touch it. Taste it. Breathe. Run. Gasp. Pant. TRUST.

Love.

Forgive. Then forget.

Lick your butthole.

Here's a song to listen to while you enjoy the show (Linus is my forever puppy).

Relativity

So, I made it through a day without crying. Wednesday, 28 May 2008: I did not cry. The Events leading up to this day are as follows: Tuesday morning, I got up, lifted weights with some cheery girl on some DVD my mom has and then made myself a bowl of my favorite food: beans. I sat on the couch watching court television, eating my beans and drinking Dr. Pepper...doing fine. When I am texting people, and I don't receive answers in a manner that I deem timely (which...in my twisted reality at present...means like, two minutes), I get very sad. I start to think that maybe no one likes me and wants to meaninglessly banter with me via text messaging (I have unlimited text messaging on my phone plan). I was spooning beans into my mouth and watching this poor kid in a wheelchair argue about how it wasn't fair that he had to come all the way into the city to meet this guy for a job interview when the guy wasn't even taking it seriously. The judge ruled on the side of the jerk that didn't show up for the interview, and I cried my eyes out for the poor kid in the wheelchair. It was...almost...comical. I couldn't finish my food.

Then texting commenced, and the minutes flew by until it was time for me to go to trivia at the P and H. It was good to see people, and to share pitcher after pitcher of cheap beer. I even had some delicious Jalapeño poppers. I also got to share my knowledge of terrible 90s music as well as my extensive knowledge of television shows. If not for the tie-breaker question of "pick a number between 1 and 200" (WTF) we would have come into money. It was a robbing of sorts. My favorite moment...the question was something about who had a hit in some year in the 90s with 'That's the Way Love Goes.' Zack immediately began to sing the chorus and I chimed in with the spoken bit...and punctuated it with 'Janet Jackson,' which was right...and oh so wrong that Zack and I both not only know the artist but can perform the song. Oh FM 100...you have taught me well.

I stayed at the P and H talking with Jeff and his wife Michelle (Mechelle?) until about three in the morning...when Diana and I went to Krystal to indulge in some Krystal Chiks...because they're so good for you.

My day without tears was interesting. I ate at Fino's with Diana and we put in our applications for this apartment we are interested in. Then I met Tess and her two lovely daughters at the zoo. It was surprisingly lovely outside (cool and cloudy), but Saylah (?) still insisted that I needed to wear sandals. She kept grabbing my hand to drag me forward and warn me, 'wait til you see the polar bears!' Tess is infinitely patient with two girls. At one point Saylah ran up to her, grabbed her hands and said, 'I am so in love with Otters,' despite the fact that we were watching the sea lions.

By close to the end of the day I had bitterly reminded a young girl that is newly in love, that she is probably not in love and that she needs to wait and see and sat in grim silence for a time...and Tess still told me I was doing really well. She bought my Mango sorbet...for which I was grateful.

I ran into Chris and April at Target and we talked for a good long time about what have you...making each other laugh. It was nice. Then I bought "The Audacity of Hope" and a half gallon of Edy's Rocky Road ice cream. I went home...read...ate ice cream...and wanted to cry. Being in this place...it looks normal I suppose...but it doesn't really feel that way. I always feel kind of naked...and sore. My whole body feels sore. Sometimes...I think crying relieves a bit of that pain. But sometimes...there is not a catalyst...and I don't cry. I suppose thinking that it would be a good day when I didn't cry was a bit naive. I mean...I've had good days when I did cry...and not to say it wasn't a good day...because it was...but in and out, and up and down, I'm still in this naked painful place...and I suppose a good day is really just relative.