Do people change?

Do people ever really change?

Or do we just evolve, learn and grown in small ways while remaining the same essential person?

I mean, even after a tremendous heartbreak or the loss of a loved one, do we ever truly change from the experience?

Does our essence ever change course or are we destined to have mostly the same thoughts, feelings, perspectives, and attitudes for the rest of our lives?

Even if these things change, will we act differently? Will we see the world anew?  Will we be better people after such change?

Will we stop making the same mistakes?  I’d like to think that people can actually change, but I just don’t know. Evidence seems to suggest otherwise.

Dogs and Life

Today at the dog park my pup was injured.  He was slammed against a cement cylinder whilst running full-speed chasing one of his girlfriends.  I rushed him to the vet, who determined he either got a bad sprain or a slight tear in the dog equivalent of the ACL.

I’m ridiculously relieved that my pup didn’t fracture his hip or knee, and as he lays here next to me I’m grateful to have the resources and the heart to rush to him the vet for help.

With the stress and cost of the veterinary medicine I’m taught what a serious responsibility it is caring for another life.  This lesson is a harsh reality check but it’s made me more realistic and responsible in regards to serious matters of health and well being of others.    Without the experiences of caring for the many dogs, cats, rats, and sugar gliders that I’ve fostered at different times, I would not be nearly as conscientious of the emotional, physical, and financial commitments of being a caregiver.

I am a very maternal young woman.  I gain a unique satisfaction and love for the world when caring for animals or even people.  I believe many women get similar maternal urges when they get to their early or mid-twenties, and several women choose to get pregnant and start a family as a result.  I know a handful of women who have done just this, and that’s awesome for them.

Through the many experiences of taking animals to the vet, paying vet bills, dealing with dog-sitting, dealing with troublesome animals, worrying, feeding, loving all these creatures, I’ve learned the serious nature of being wholly responsible for another life.

For this reason, I’m waiting until I have money, education, and time to make human babies.  I want to have a child or two, but I understand how much of a commitment it can be.  If my kid has an attitude problem I can’t take him back to the pound.  If they get sick it’s horribly worrying and expensive, and we can’t just euthanize the poor bastards like many pet owners chose to do today.

I think it’s great that many women have found security enough to start a family, but I am not ready.

My heart pounded and I had to swallow tears because my pup injured his leg, and the vet put me out almost two hundred dollars.  If I didn’t have the money, or if I didn’t have a car or nerves, I would have been totally screwed.

It’s hard for me to imagine having a little darling baby, so fragile and precious, who may need health care right off the bat.  Not too mention clothes, diapers, education, food, housing…

Babies are no picnic!

I’m thankful to understand the seriousness of caring for another life and to have had so many wonderful animals to teach me this lesson.

I’m happy taking care of my doggie and taking him to the vet, and as a result I’m waiting quite a while to have a child.

Bernard, my love

Good Things This Morning

So today as been surprisingly awesome so far.  And I should mention that having a good day that starts first thing when I wake up is extraordinarily rare.  Usually I wake up late, have to take care of a hyper-active puppy whilst getting myself to look presentable before rushing out the door cursing with a granola bar in hand.

Today was a lovely exception and I thought I’d share just because there’s no one else is here besides the pup to brag to.

So for today I’ll mention some More Happiness .

Note: A couple of these things occurred last night. I usually don’t drink in the mornings, not heavily anyways.

Happiness is…

Weird, captivating dreams.

Two, perfectly fried over-easy eggs and perfectly toasted toast.

Bernard (my doggie) when he’s not being a whiner, beggar, or turd-burglar.

A white russian and intriguing romance flick with a good friend.

Friendly neighbors saying hello.

Gorey, cheesy horror movies.

My Honda when it’s NOT making painful noises.

Two surprise tickets to an AWESOME Halloween concert.

Plans for pumpkin carving.

Curtis Mayfield’s “Move On Up” while I apply mascara.

Good things happening in the morning.

Appreciation of those good things.

AND David Bowie, of course.

Dammit, I need to appreciate these good things more often.

This is how I usually feel in the morning

How I feel today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope you’ve had a good morning too.  If it’s been a typical cruddy one, put on a record, read a poem, jump on the bed, or do all three! Have a good weekend folks.

 

 

 

 

Do I declare myself?

“But when you rip open that shirt to find the ripped abs of truth – when you remember who you are – the question then becomes: Do you declare yourself?”

-Justine Musk

I ask myself this question often: Do I declare myself?

Being the self-conscious, justice-seeking, slightly psychotic individual I am, I constantly play with different aspects of my self.  Whether it’s the political side, the philosophical side, or the bad poetry side, there are many facets to my personality. I think this is normal, but it’s difficult to find that one passion, that one part of my being, that is stronger and demands a declaration above all others.

What are my ripped abs, so to speak?  What do I see, what do I feel, when I remember who I am?

Do I too, wear a facade?  Do I put on a ‘front’ when I go out and about?  And if so, who am when I get home to an empty house and a lovable mutt?

I suppose I am a sensitive, calm, critical, and slightly sad female.

Without the face without the facade. Just a silly girl puttin’ curlers in her hair.

Acting tough and intelligent can be exhausting some times.

I remember that I am a flawed, unfashionable, and fervent woman.  I have fears and fallacy.

But this remembrance is more beautiful than my shell of ‘wonder woman’ outer projections.  And I remember it, yes, yes, I do.

I remember my fears and passions, and god dammit I declare them.