Profound Thoughts and Lessons From the Dog

It seems that the weather fairies have decided to grant us rain-soaked Washingtonians a few days of spring and I, for one, am trying to take full advantage of it. After work for the last couple of days, I've come home, picked up the pup, and taken an afternoon/early evening walk over to the park down the street. It's been great. Not only does it give Jade a chance to burn off her astounding amount of puppy energy, but it gets me out of my dark, musty cave of an apartment into the fresh air and actually moving my stiff body around before atrophy completely sets in.

Jade loves going to the park. She loves having the big, open, grassy area in which she can run freely at the fastest speed her little legs will go. We bring her hacky sack (yes, as Derrick the Hippie's dog, she prefers the small, overfull bag to a normal tennis ball), a bowl of water, and a book and I sit quietly reading in the grass while she runs in wide circles around me, gathering sticks, rocks, her ball, and whatever else I'm willing to throw. She's very well behaved, returning to me whenever I call her, staying within a reasonable distance, and not bothering the other people (actually, she barks a little at the stranger then runs back to me. She's going through a scaredy cat phase). She's a pleasure to take out and play with.

There is one problem to the routine, though. While we are walking, I keep Jade on her Halti to keep her from accidentally running out in front of a car. She HATES the Halti (it's a training device used with the leash. It goes around her nose and then latches to her collar. That way as we teach her to walk with the leash, we end up leading her by the nose instead of by the neck. It saves a lot of strain on our arms and keeps her from choking). She spends a lot of the short walk trying to get the Halti off her face, either by rubbing her nose on my legs (which makes walking hard) or rubbing her face on the ground (which actually tends to cause the Halti to tighten up and lock her mouth closed). I keep trying to tell her that if she would stop fighting with it, we would get there faster and then she would be free to run without it. But she's a stubborn little pup and never listens. So we walk, stop, adjust the Halti, then try to start over again. Eventually, however, we do get to the park and I take it off of her and she happily froliks until her little heart's content.

I was talking to a friend the other day and I mentioned that I think God sent Jade to my life for a reason. I've been feeling lonely and frustrated lately. Most of the time I feel a little unloved. I have a hard time taking comfort in God's love for me when He hasn't brought the human arms into my life to give me His hugs. Then suddenly, Jade is here and she has the unconditional love for me that I keep feeling without. She's always happy when I come around and she very cuddly, always sitting close to me and laying her head on my leg or arm. I told my friend that it felt like Jade was sent here to love me until my human love comes along.

But maybe she's here to teach me a few things along the way, too.

Watching Jade fight her Halti, knowing that I'm doing it to protect her and teach her, got me thinking about myself and God. Perhaps my singlehood is like Jade's Halti. I hate it, I don't want to wear it, I fight it with everything in me, and I ask Him to please, please remove this hateful situation from my life. But He doesn't. Maybe single is what He is using to guide me, teach me, and protect me while He leads me to a better place. Maybe if I would stop resisting and just walk along side Him like I'm supposed to, we could finally get to that place He has for me and He can "take off the Halti" and let me run free and happy.

Does this insight make me feel better? Not really. I may realize that He knows better, but to my poor little puppy-eyes, it still seems like an endless journey. It's really hard to be patient, even when I know that He's got my best interest in mind.

After making this strange connection in relationships, I changed our evening walk a little tonight. Rather than making Jade walk nonstop to our unknown destination, I stopped occasionally to give her a little treat for encouragement. She still fought the Halti for a bit, but eventually she started walking next to me without fidgeting. She started to realize that I wasn't putting her in this situation to punish her, but rather because I care and am protecting her.

Just like God does with me.

Everyone Needs a Little Wicked in Their Lives....

The first play I remember attending was Guys and Dolls when I was in the ninth grade. Clark College put it on and mom was doing the lights, so she asked if I'd like to see it. I don't remember who I saw it with, but I remember the play very well. I loved the music and the story and the characters. I loved the sets and the costumes. I just loved everything about the experience.

Okay, it probably wasn't the FIRST play I went to, but it was the one that made the first impression on me. All plays following were held up to the standard that I had set in my memory of that play. All through the high school productions, the college productions, and many of the non-Broadways, none could ever take the place in my heart and memory of that first performance of Guys and Dolls.

Last summer I saw Phantom of the Opera. Wow, what an amazingly wonderful play. Beautiful sets, costumes, songs, everything. It was part of the Broadway Across America performances that come into Portland. After seeing it, I was forced to grudgingly give it a shared spot in my heart for Best Play Ever. But that was the closest any play ever has come to a successful coup.

Until last night.

Mom, Don and I went and saw Wicked and WOW. It was easily the most amazing play I've ever seen. The story was fun, a little twisted (but in a good way) and full of unexpected "Ah-ha" moments. It was so intense. It drew me in and told the story so completely that when the lights came on for intermission, I realized that if that had been the end of the play, I would have been plenty satisfied. But that wasn't the end. There was still so much story left to be told.

It told the story of the Wicked Witch of the West from Oz and how she came to be known as we know her. It was a story about intentions and perceptions. And it introduced the idea that things are rarely as uncomplicated as they seem; that people are not usually just "good" or "evil" but usually a mixture of both and that it is how they are percieved that makes them so.

I'm obsessed. I want to go out and get the book now (despite what I've been told about the play being better). I have the soundtrack for the play and I have been listening to it nonstop since last night. I can't say enough about the play. Everything feels too inadequate in comparison.

Oh and by the way, now that Phantom and Wicked have been crossed off my list, the only Broadway play left for me to see is Beauty and the Beast. Once I've seen that one, I'll be able to die having "seen it all".

The April Fools

Stephanie came down to Vancouver this week to spend the kids' Spring Break with friends and family. I decided that since her weekends are all booked up, to choose a day during the week and play hooky from work to play with them while they are here. I also thought it would be fun to spend the day with Jade, so it was looking to be a very fun-filled skip day.

In the grand tradition of Washington weather, we had a very wet and slightly cold day yesterday. But you know what they say about April showers.... I guess that's why we've got such a beautiful state, but man, the rain can be such a drag!

We started our afternoon by visiting our friend (and my old roommate) Kristina and her new baby. Kristina welcomed us in with freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and cold milk (what a great hostess!) Steph was surprised when her oldest son asked if he could hold the little one.

While the adults chatted and the kids passed the baby around, Jade ran around the house with Ginger, Kristina's mom's dog.

Just about the time that the kids figured out where the big screen TV was and started watching a movie, Steph and I decided it was time to say good-bye to Kristina and J'sai and go to our next destination. We packed up the crew and headed over to the City of Vancouver where Steph used to work.

Despite the fact that mom works at the City and would be there to see her, Jade was very displeased at this stop. While she was happy to see mom (her Grandma, whom she loves a lot), she hated that we made her keep her halti on while we were there. She spent most of the time pouting at us.

After Steph got her fill of catching up with her old coworkers, we decided it was time to reward the kids (and Jade) for their patience by taking them to the park. Unfortunately, it was still raining outside. But the kids were insistant and Jade just wanted to run, so we stopped.

I had my umberella with me, but that doesn't keep me from getting cold, so after awhile, Steph and I decided to go sit in the car while the kids played. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that Jade wouldn't continue playing with them if she couldn't see me. So she jumped into the car with us (getting my clothes muddy) and laid down on my lap. She slept the entire way home. It was an adventurous day for the puppy and she was exhausted.

And that was my hooky day with the Cranes. Oh, and ps: the weather was much less wet today. Of course.

Happy Birthday, Baby (One)!

Happy Birthday, Derrick!

One of my baby brothers turned 26 today. He's not my youngest brother, but still, leaving the quarter century behind him sure makes me feel old. Most of the time I have a hard time believing that I am actually in my 30's. Then something like this....Yikes!

Even worse....baby brother number two will be 25 in October. Double yikes. When did my babies get to be so old? I don't remember saying that was okay.

PS: That chocolate cake was not made by my mom, but it was really good anyway. It was so rich and chocolaty that none of the guests could eat more than half a piece. YUM!!!

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream....

I've been really tired lately. Not just the "can no longer function on 3 hours sleep like in college" tired, but the "needing a nap of van Winkle caliber" tired. Despite the fact that I get the recommended 6-8 hours most nights, I have a harder and harder time getting myself out of bed in the morning. I have trouble concentrating at work because I'm fighting the urge to put my head down on the desk and drift back to dreamland. My lunch hour is more often than not spent sleeping in the car. After work I come home and lay down on the couch. Now that the weather is getting nicer, I'd love to take the puppy out to the park more often, but these days I barely have the energy required to lift the remote and change the channel on the tv. I can't tell you how many nights I've opted to skip dinner because just the thought of going in and throwing something in the microwave is too exhausting.

Being tired has made me cranky and sore. Not that I mean to be cranky, but I find that my tolerance and/or patience for other people, traffic, my pets, sounds, etc, is severely limited. Like I usually reach my limit by the time I hit my morning shower and everyone else is just standing on my exposed nerve after that.

And blah. I've been feeling blah and void of emotion lately. Never a good sign.

This has been going on for about a month or so. It was time to seek some medical advice. So yesterday I went in to see my doctor.

He said that from what I described, it sounds like depression. I've been on medication for two years now for depression, so I was a little surprised to hear that, but he said that sometimes people taking Prozac over a long period of time start to notice a decrease in it's effectiveness. That's what is going on now. He had me on a relatively low dosage, so he increased the prescription by 10mg. If I'm not noticing a difference in energy and mood in 6 weeks time, I will go back and see him again.

(I think it's important to point out here that while I am once again exhibiting signs of depression, I have managed to take care of it before it got to the suicidal stage again).

I felt a lot better today. I know that one day isn't enough time to feel that kind of improvement from the extra 10mg of Prozac, so it's probably more of a placebo effect, but regardless, I was able to concentrate at work and actually ate lunch rather than napping. That felt good. Of course, by the time I got home, that burst of energy had faded and I was back to drowsy and tired. But it's a start.

I wasn't the only one who went to visit the doctor yesterday. My grandpa has been in the hospital since Friday for pneumonia, Derrick went in and found out he has strep throat, and Jade had her 10 day check-up after her surgery (we got her fixed).

I have a new theory: St. Patrick is Irish for "doctor".

Need further proof? Okay, we wear green on St. Patty's day. Green is the color people turn when they get sick. Sick people go see the doctor to feel better. Coincidence?

As if I needed another reason to dislike the color.....