Bring on the Dancing Horses

It's been 4 weeks since my constant companion left my side, and I still miss her like you wouldn't believe. So many times I'll be going through my day and just expect to see Autumn come around the corner, and I almost want to hold my breath and wait, like maybe it was all just a bad dream.

I'm still gathering the strength to post part 2 of my farewell, but I'm starting to repress the feelings and the memories of that particular bad day and the ones that followed. I'm stuffing them into a tiny box, and putting them in a dark corner in the back, right next to the box labeled "September 11." They're like painful little spring-trap, needle-filled time capsules that maybe one day I'll be able to disarm, but not until I have the time and the distance and emotional maturity to handle them.

They're also taking their damn sweet time getting her ashes back to me at the vet. They told me two or three weeks. It's been four. Craig called and they stalled him and put him off, until he got hold of the "manager" who told him, oh yeah it can take as long as TWO MONTHS. Meanwhile, I want to cry from that disappointment, and my gut aches with the fear that there's been some kind of mixup, and I'll never get her back. Craig says he's tired of calling them. I'll have to sack up and do it myself. The challenge will be not crying in anger and frustration while I'm on the phone.

IN HAPPIER NEWS, I love watching the triumphant return of 120 Minutes on VH1 Classic. Some of the best days of my life were to the tune of Alt 80's music! It gives me a happy little butterfly or two to remember the times and the places I recall with The Church and Jesus and Mary Chain and Echo and Souxsie. Those are the 80s that I remember, not all the day-glo and Madonna puffy sleeves and legwarmers. I think of the summers driving to skate shows in my friends' beat up cars. The nights roaming the boardwalks and beaches of the shore in our little punk rock gangs. The laughs and the camaraderie and the heartache and the purple hair and the spikes and the combat boots and the trips to the city and hardcore matinées at CBGB's.

I wish my 80s were the one making the comeback.

And lastly, we're starting our search to see how much someone wants to lend us to buy a house! (And what the best rate we can get is of course.) So exciting! In fact, that whole process is gonna need a blog of it's own. I've been scoping out the houses in Charlotte though, and it's got me pretty psyched! You can't imagine how much house you can get for a realistic price there! Whee!