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 Day 2.  (it still counts if I write the (admittedly short) post and don't post it)

Startlingly good weekend, despite the addition of a migraine Saturday evening.  Sunday was a blast, we took Nonsense to the Somerville Dog Festival and got her fitted for both a harness for more ease of running with Abundance and a lifejacket, so we can take her out on Abundance's boat.  We also got to see the amazing woman who helped us with Buckets' end of life care, and Nonsense got eat raspberry-duck ice cream with fish skin toppings.

I keep thinking about ideas of friendship, how I've changed, what it was in each decade of my life, what it is now, what I miss and what I don't miss.  I don't have the points to write about it now, but I'm leaving this as a breadcrumb for a future omnia.

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 It continues to bewilder me how quickly some of these days go by, and how I end so many of them doing laps around the dining room table to get up to 10K steps.

I took my dog to the dog park to work with the trainer, and I was struck with how comparatively short a time Nonsense has been with us, and how much of my life she's become. She's no Buckets, to peaceably sleep out her middle and old age on the couch for eight hours at a time, she's no 12lb dog I don't need to worry about training because I can just pick her up if she needs to be re-directed.  And as I told the dog massage therapist at the dog fair, I'm much older than her and have a lot more ability to emotionally regulate, and I'm not over my anxiety, I have no expectation of her ever being not-anxious, I just want to do as much for her as I can.

I got to spend the afternoon with Delight, mostly sans baby.  Something about her being gone for so long during starchild's adoption quest seems to have jacked up the volume on my twitterpatedness with her, and I was already pretty twitterpated to begin with.  

I started to read Emma Cline's The GIrls, and got to a part where the protagonist is in her teens and lies about having seen a movie in order to look cool to her crush-object and gets caught in the lie, and my entire body cringed and I realized this was all bad enough the first through threehundredth time, reliving it doesn't necessarily gain me anything.  I'll try the book again, just because, but today I gave myself a break and started listening to Elizabeth Kostova's latest epic.

I remember how freeing it was to finally learn to just tell Light (and then everyone else) that their cultural referents were lost on me, instead of trying to vague it up to appear to share a language. I remember a kid in high school telling me I was cool because it was obvious I knew the lyrics to a they might be giants song, but didn't feel compelled to sing along to prove that I did.  And I still sometimes want to pretend that I've read all the books, followed all the news, done all the things, but it's good to remember that I'm happier not having to remember all the half-truths.