Wednesday, August 29, 2007

When I Grow Too Old To Dream




Awww so cute! Daz in his teen years! :)


Dear Dazzy,
GRRRR I am so ticked off at stupid Blogger!
GRRRRRR I upload video, and it previews great then when I hit "publish" PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT nada.

Just that stupid little black box with an X in it.
Damn! Too much like my life right now.

I'll fire off an email asap and fix it up.
I was all excited to put up one of your car ads, Babe.

Of course if you were here, you'd have fixed this already...:(
It's good for me to figure it out.
Builds character and all that crap,and I get to learn something new, right?

I'm just bored from being home sick today; strep throat and antibiotics and now my eye is all crusty and leaky-lovely mental piccie there eh, sweets?

There is another thing I have had to do without you-get sick, that is.
Made my own tea. Got my own butt to the DR and the pharmacy and the store.
Did it all and didn't complain- well, not much. OK, so call me Sooky-lala. :P

During the day I play the game of it's OK; you wouldn't be home holding my hand anyway, you'd be at Watchoveryamoney, LOL as we called the big W bank.
The dogs nap next to me and poor Boomer is totally confused with my almost new schedule. ( Yea! She's staying HOME! Wait-why isn't she walking me? Let me get my leash to remind her...)

But then, after Oprah and phone calls from the kids and Kath and whomever else, our house is so goddamn quiet later at night I could just scream.

That's when my loss-our loss-becomes so apparent; when there is no one to banter with, no one to just have one of those rambling conversations-like when we first started to talk via ICQ, and we would pick "five things to discuss", LOL

We would leave each other lists while the other was sleeping, so when we got up and turned on the computer and waited for the email to load-OMG do any of us remember dial-up service?- there would be a sweet note from my "Aussie Hubby" with some of the daily noteworthy headlines. Like Footy scores and fashion trends, LOL

I would send back my own list and we would be off and running.

We never ran out of topics, causes, or ideas. We bounced off one another like sunlight on mirrors. We were rarely quiet because we truly wanted to know each other's thoughts and take them up and weave them together with our own; a validation that yeah, we do belong together because we honored the other person's ideas and needs and feelings...even when we disagreed it was fun to sort out.

Actually, I haven't stopped talking to you yet babe. Maybe you know that? Maybe not.
I hope you still get my vibe in your far corner of the universe. Wouldn't that be a bot of "alwright"!

Death-what an idiotic concept. I know you are not coming home to me on this night or any other. Intellectually, I know that. I know I have to be proactive, and move forward, and seek out the life I want to have rather than be sad forever.

Problem is, I HAD the life I always wanted. You, the kids, the house, the job, the dog(s)-it was all great. I didn't want anything else. Neither did you. I feel badly some days for you, my hunk-o-spunk, because YOU didn't get a choice either in this situation. It was slapped at you like a bad forehand; whizzing over the net at some weird angle with bad trajectory; the kind that just bounces crazily and winds up giving you a black eye when you step in to return it. Ouch.

So tonight I am sick( literally and figuratively) and pissed off and bored and sad.

The bright spot? Seeing our oldie, Ranger, take his chew bone WITH HIM out the front door as he went to potty! LOL
He was NOT going to leave it inside for that MF Boomer to snatch it, LOL, LOL :P
Made my day and night to see that.

Rangie is still so funny and sweet. I'll always remember how he did not bark at you when you first came through my apartment door back in September of 2000...he knew, like I did, that you were the ONE.

I'm off to bed now, honey. I have talked to you a bunch today; that damn wall of silence that I have to put up with for a response just sucks the air from my lungs.

Here's to a better day tomorrow.

Don't I wish for that every single night?

Maybe if I say it enough times it will finally be true.

Love you Dazzy. Always.
Kisses, Wifey

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