Saying goodbye to a pet

Jerry and his favorite manatee toy in 2003

Our pets are part of our family. They are our babies. Our fur babies. Almost all pets live just portions of our lives. But often those years are important ones.

Jerry and his favorite manatee toy

They are the years we met loved ones and got married. They are the years our human children were born. They help us through our empty nest period. The years our children are born might be the hardest. We mark the lives of our fur babies with our human babies. And vice versa.

Today I have to say goodbye to Jerry. 

Jerry has been through so much with me. He was there when I brought my oldest child home from the hospital.

Jerry was there when my best friend, Karen, committed suicide. 

Jerry was there when my second came home from the hospital. 

He was there when we bought our first home - a condo. He was there when we bought our first house. He was there when we had to say goodbye to the kitties we took when Karen died. He was there when Olaf and Lillian joined us. And now he won’t be here for anything else.

He won’t be here when Zachary graduates 8th grade in a couple months.

Zachary

He won’t be here when Allie graduates high school next year.

Allie

This pet who was here for almost every important event will no longer be here.

I can wrap my head around needing to put him to sleep. That is my responsibility as a pet owner.  I can’t wrap my head around the finality of that.

Who will immediately jump into my lap before I've even had a chance to situate myself on the couch?

Who will beg for food at the table and nearly bite my entire finger off?

Who will yowl in the middle of the night just because?

Who will eat my hair when I'm lying on the floor?

I know Lillian and Olaf, plus any future kitties, will help fill Jerry's void, but it won't happen quickly and it still won't be complete.

It's like losing a best friend

Tomorrow we will lose our best friends. And we will gain a playground bully.

The sense of loss I'm feeling is overwhelming. I don't like feeling intense feelings. I tend to shove them down (super healthy, I know). But these feelings of loss and grief keep bubbling up. They have been since November. Never before have I felt the need to break down and cry so often.

Obama and his beautiful family will go on to live their lives (in California!!) and no doubt continue to leave their positive mark on the world. But by leaving office, part of them is dying. Part of me is dying.

That family is pure class.  That family is who I want to represent my country to the world.

Now my country will be represented by a two year old with a Twitter account.

So along with the feelings of loss and grief, I'm so incredibly embarrassed. And ashamed.

Where do we go from here? Psychologists will tell you to acknowledge your feelings so you can move on. But I'm not sure I want to move on. I need to figure out how to use these feelings and fight.

I will not go gentle into that good night.

This isn't just a change in presidency

This isn't just a change in presidency. That happens every 4-8 years. We're used to that. Someone from "the other side" is elected and we say "gosh darn it, my choice didn't win". And we move on. Sure, we grumble. We post memes (well, maybe we didn't I've only been of FB for 8-9 years). We say "when my choice was in office we did/didn't have XYZ".

But now. This is so different. This goes way beyond "gosh darn it". This is a change that will affect millions of Americans. This is a change that will ruin lives. Except for the super rich. They're fine.

I'm going to be totally honest with you: this probably won't affect me that much. We're financially comfortable. If we both lost our jobs tomorrow we'd survive for months. If one of us died we'd be fine with our life insurance. We're white. We're upper middle class. We're beyond child rearing age (well, not really, but it's just not happening). We have family around us that can support us if we really really need it.

So I'm not so scared for *me*. I'm scared for all my friends. I'm scared for my single parenting friends. I'm scared for my disabled friends. I'm scared for my friends who might sorta kinda look like they might sorta kinda be the type who might sorta kinda have a bomb to kill us all. Whatever that looks like. Yeah yeah, let's just wait and see. I'm *sure* it won't be that bad.

What I'm dealing with the most right now, though, is the depression. Losing Obama is like a loved one dying. We'll never see him again. He's going to be gone forever. I can wrap my head around that over time, but what is replacing him I just can't.

Obama has class. Obama speaks to the people. He is one of us. Trump? He has no idea how to speak to those who aren't as privileged as him. He is the salt in the wound of losing Obama. Not only are we losing a beloved member of our family, we're gaining someone who will ruin us. It's almost too much to handle.

The loss of Obama, the loss of Clinton, the gain of Trump. I can handle one of those at a time. But all of them? I just can't.

I struggle to bring myself out of this depression. Then Trump appoints someone to a position who has spoken out against the position they're supposed to be supporting. Another slap.

This isn't just a change in presidency. This is a change to everything we are. We are more divided ever than before. And right now we need to stand strong together. I hope we all see that before it's too late.

I don't want Hillary, so I'm voting for... Trump??

Let's take a look at the people voting for Trump just because they don't want Hillary. Really? REALLY??

Elections over the years have always been either Democratic or Republican. There's no in between. As much as we'd like to think there are "other" parties out there, there aren't. It's a two party system. Period.

Trump doesn't know SHIT about how to govern a nation. He can't even run his own fucking businesses. Hillary, at the VERY LEAST has first hand knowledge on how to do it.

Every 4 years every single one of us is put into the position of choosing who best fits our ideology. And every four years roughly 50% of us says to ourselves "Damn it! Four years of this person's shit".

This is so different. This is not just four years of "gosh darn it, I don't like what he/she said". This is four years of tyranny. Has no one seen the similarities between Trump and Hitler? Because they're there. Go Google that shit.

I'm a middle to upper class citizen. I live in the San Francisco Bay Area and can afford a 3 bedroom 2 bathroom house ON THE PENINSULA. If Trump is actually elected, I'll probably not be affected too much. I'm done having babies, so he'll stay out of my uterus. I miss all the tax brackets he's targeting. I don't have any disabilities (knock on wood) that might make it hard or impossible for me to work. I'll survive this. I'll survive it with anti-Trump memes and angry Facebook updates.

But myfuckinggod, I know so many who may not. I know way too many who will have to pay for the policies he would like to inflect upon our nation.

I get it. Hillary, in your opinion, can't make a good president. She should be sent to prison (what politician should be?). I have my doubts, too. I was (am) a stern Sanders supporter. He was my dream come true. But fine, he didn't get the nomination, so I'm moving on. And I get it. Trump talks to (at) us like we're the neighborly neighbor. He says things in ways many of us have said things to our friends. He says things the way we might say things sitting around the local bar, chatting each other up. But if you actually listen, he's not saying what YOU would say. It's a cliche, but "think of the children" is an important phrase here. Think. Of. The. Children. What kind of country are you leaving your/our/my children to? A nation of love and acceptance or a nation of hate and denial of rights? Your rights could be next.

#Imwithher. And I'm not with her solely based on her philosophy. I'm with her because she is what is going to KEEP this country great.

Empathy

I sometimes wonder if I lack empathy. Someone’s grandma dies and they’re devastated but I’m all “she was 90, get over it”.  So my empathy meter often runs low. But I don’t have zero empathy. And sometimes something comes across the interwebz that really makes me realize that I do have empathy. And many of you don’t. And that makes me sad.

We all know the Cincinnati gorilla story. We’ve all taken sides. Most (and I include myself) are quick to point out the faults on each side. The enclosure obviously wasn’t safe enough. The mother obviously wasn’t watching her child.

I’m so fucking done pointing fingers. I don’t care WHO was at fault – if anyone.  Here are the facts: a boy fell into the enclosure and a gorilla had his hands on him.  There are no other facts you need to know. A child needed to be saved from a “wild” animal. There were no other options.

The mother, who may or may not have been keeping a good enough eye on her boy, had to watch this all unfold. She had to stand helpless on the edge of the enclosure and offer up words to her god or her universe that her boy not be hurt.

Have you ever experienced that helpless feeling? And I’m not just talking about watching your child go across the monkey bars and fall each and every time. I’m not talking about having to watch your awkward teenager navigate society. I’m talking about literally not being able to do anything to help your child. I’ve not been in that situation. And I thank my lucky stars I haven't.

I have the empathy to understand what this might feel like. And I have the ability to know that I will NEVER know what this feels like until I experience it. And I hope, and I pray and I send out my positive vibes to the universe that I will never, EVER have to.

So, please. Dig down. Find that empathy for that mother. Put away your pointed finger. Think how lucky she and that boy are to be safe. Send your virtual hugs her way. She knows this story far better than you do. If there is a lesson to be learned, it's been learned. Now is the time to heal.

Out of my element

A couple girlfriends and I went out on the town last weekend. San Francisco, North Beach (for those in the know). I'm pretty much a homebody and a suburb girl. I am not comfortable in The Big City. There's so much... everything.  Lights, bustle, people. And I have a fear of public transit.  Goes back to an incident when I was 10 and jumped on the London Underground, thinking my parents were right behind me. They weren't and the doors closed and off I went.  Obviously I survived and was reunited, but scared shitless nonetheless.

Anyway, I wanted to spend time with my friends, so off to The City I went. My friends know and love city and are in their element. I was not, but they had my back. I wouldn't be abandoned.  Our goal was to have tons of fun, fun we wouldn't normally have. So off to the strip clubs we went.

It was early (for a Friday night in SF). The first club (The Condor) was quiet and the girls happily chatted with us while they danced on stage. It was fun. I loved their outfits, I loved their aerobics. And I was in a *whispers* STRIP CLUB. Giggle. I gave one of the girls a couple dollars, admitting this was my "first time". She was so sweet, told me exactly where to put the money and said "slap my butt, your friends will love it". See? Super fun, just my level of break out naughty.

This club was pretty tame (who knew?) so we tried a couple other places. Some wanted to charge a cover, which we weren't going to pay. We found another club and sat ourselves down. This is where my fun, happy and "giggle, I'm in a strip club" feelings ended.

I appreciate the female form, but I found I was much more interested in watching the girls' faces. And seeing their faces killed me. There was no emotion. None. Like they were dead inside. And I bet some of them were. It made me so sad. I leaned over to one of my friends and said "I really kind of hate this". Being the amazing friend that she is, she immediately said "Ok, let's go", and we were out of there.

My friend explained to me that these women really do make a good amount of money, and there are so many rules in place about touching and appropriate behavior from the guests (clients? patrons?), but I just couldn't get rid of the image of their emotionless faces. I still can't.

Most of these women strip because they have to. Maybe they don't have the education for a better job. Or because the Bay Area is so damn expensive they need this second job to pay the bills. Or life just put them there because life can do that. I doubt this happens to male strippers. But what do I know. My male stripper knowledge comes from Magic Mike.

My Weight Loss Journey: The Next Next Steps

The next next steps.  I've had a lot of steps over the last couple years.  Weight loss surgery. Losing 100+lbs.  Getting new boobs.  I'm now a week away (A WEEK!!) from another big step: lower body lift. When a large amount of weight is lost, all the excess skin heads south.  The boobs sag, the arms have bat wings, the thighs wrinkle and the abdominal skin sags and sits right over the pubis. Lovely.

In a week I'm going to have that skin removed.  I still struggle with a lot of body issues (like the aforementioned arms and thighs), but this is a biggie. Imagine your body from your head to your chest looking pretty much exactly how you'd like it to look.  Yeah, you're probably showing more age than you hoped you would, but for the most part you're pretty OK with how you look (and this is a major milestone for how you used to feel about yourself). But that belly. Some shirts and skirts are great at hiding that excess skin, but you still see it every.single.day.

In a week it will be gone.  It's kind of blowing my mind right now. I have NEVER seen my lower body look "skinny" (whatever that means). I still don't see the rest of my body look skinny.  Just today I had a conversation with my boss where she said she's never known me not "skinny". Skinny? I just can't wrap my head around that word.

Every woman looks different. And none of us should be judging a woman for how she looks on the outside. And I should be happy with how I look right now. But I'm not. I have the ability (meaning money) right now to make it happen. So why the fuck not? I've always wanted to look in the mirror and be happy with what I saw. I never was, but I am getting there.

I plan on buying a bikini top. And I plan on piercing my belly button. 40 is the new 30, right? Maybe even the new 20.