Tuesday, November 17, 2009

The Straw That Broke The Camel's Back

Alright, so here comes the long awaited second half that was promised days ago (the timestamp on this post will say November 17 but trust me its November 22). We all have those embarrassing moments that probably shouldn't be shared with the world, but in the interest of full disclosure (and because my Jump To Conclusions mat directed me so) I decided to "go for it".

I was having one of those days (and I know we all have them) that just straight up could not go well. I had awaken next to a beautiful girl who was decidedly not into me. One of my VI friends I had spent a lot of time with was flying out that day (Valerie Rae - sad to see you go) and I'd possibly never see or hear from her again. I'm pretty sure the Bruins had even lost to the Islanders. I overuse this word when speaking but rarely use it when writing - things were wretched.

Perhaps it was the fact that instead of kicking a (expletives deleted) girl to the curb and telling her to take a taxi I gave her a ride home. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was enlisted to drive Rae Rae's suitcase back from the Hooters House. Either way, as I was navigating my way home at 9am, chauffeuring a bag of clothes, I realized that things were not the way they should be. I got home and sprawled out on the pull-out, putting on the 11 saddest songs I know (big time Seth Cohen moment) hoping they would help me realize that things could be worse. They didn't. DC and VR Trooper took off because she had to get to the airport leaving me alone to wallow in my sorrows. Big time pity party.

It was then that I decided to check on the only remaining living being in the house, a dog by the name of Ziggy. I was welcomed with a wag of the tail, and decided I would lay next to this adopted island mutt for a while as I felt it was my last shot at redemption for the day.

What happened could only be described as beautiful. Ziggy, who tends to be squeamish in my presence as I give her crap about the crap she leaves on the kitchen floor, gave me dog kisses for an hour straight. I'm not even kidding - this dog did not take a break. I feel like she could sense the 'situation de la bummed out' I was in and was doing anything - the only thing - that she knew how to do to make me feel better.

My thoughts went back to all the incredible people I have met in my life that would, at the drop of a hat, do absolutely everything they could to reconcile any ill-begotten feelings that dwelled upon me. I thought about Butters and Cookie and Soco Amaretto Lime. I thought about Johnny, Brett and Billy and Water Street Music Hall. I thought about Paul and RJ and Brian at St. Bonnie's. Three highlights among many, many other "best ever" moments in my life. It was unexpected and uncanny - but this 10 pound dog had reminded me about what is most important in life.

I'm not writing this to seem self-righteous. I'm not writing it to send a message to the youth of America - because if I did it would read learn the proper way to spell Mississippi. I just thought it appropriate to shout out to all the incredible people I have come across in my life, whether you actually read this blog or not, to let you know that when the Jenga Tower falls, I know I've got an army of friends that will never let it fall too far. Aequitas and Veritas, eat cheese and prosper.

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