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i gotta lotta ricotta
Jul. 13th, 2024 12:11 pmErica is at work and I am doing what I am usually doing if I’m not watching Sanford and Son....watching last nights Mariners game. Something just occurred that in all my years of baseballery I have never seen. So I contacted The Unilateral Commission of Baseball Game game Rules Report of 2011for an opinion. They responded by saying no, it is not an official TBGg winner but it is granted a gold star honorable mention. I have some extra money this month so I was scrolling through eBay on my phone, looking to find a Cal Raleigh jersey as he has quickly become One of my favorite players. As I was scrolling, Cal came up to bat. I clicked on a jersey and as I was perusing the details, Cal crushed a long ass home right to left field. He hit a homer while I was shopping for a jersey of his! That’s crazy, sexy, cool. I’ve not had a coincidence this groovy in quite a long time.
For the last few days I have been the walking definition of my alter ego, not-so-super superhero secret identity of Relatively Okay Guy. Nothing terrible has happened in the past few days but then again nothing great. Everything has been, you know, relatively OK. But today I am deeply worried about Da Younga Sista. She has a little Doggo named Pumpkin (Pie). She rescued her 14 or 15 years ago and they have been companions ever since. Sista is one of those Dog People. Wherever she goes Pumpkin goes with her. They are inseparable. Pumpkin is now about 19 years old. She had a check up theother day and the doctors discovered she had a mass growing in her stomach. Structurally the dog is 100%. Amazing how good of a condition she’s in at her age but you can’t say the phrase 'large mass' and it be a good thing. I texted Sista yesterday early in the day and never heard back. I texted her again today and I still not heard back so obviously I’m thinking the worst. I remember how god-awful painful it was for me when Detective Pigglesworth left and then four months later, Lady Blubbington. I’m hoping I’m over reacting and everything is cool but until I hear from her I’m just gonna worry.
Which led me to staying up late last night crying....thinking about Ziggy & Zoe and how much it still hurts. Before them was Allison Da Housecat who left me in 2007. And all the friends I’ve lost along the ride. I cried about how lonely i feel most of the time. MeDad is gone and MeMum is as good as gone. Friends who have taken their lives. Being hostage to a wheelchair means I can’t go where i want or do what i want. I really want to go to Gasworks Park in Seattle (my happy place) at least one more time while I am still able....but am I really still able? I’m never gonna get to live in the PNW. I’m going to die in a fucking city I despise.
For the last few days I have been the walking definition of my alter ego, not-so-super superhero secret identity of Relatively Okay Guy. Nothing terrible has happened in the past few days but then again nothing great. Everything has been, you know, relatively OK. But today I am deeply worried about Da Younga Sista. She has a little Doggo named Pumpkin (Pie). She rescued her 14 or 15 years ago and they have been companions ever since. Sista is one of those Dog People. Wherever she goes Pumpkin goes with her. They are inseparable. Pumpkin is now about 19 years old. She had a check up theother day and the doctors discovered she had a mass growing in her stomach. Structurally the dog is 100%. Amazing how good of a condition she’s in at her age but you can’t say the phrase 'large mass' and it be a good thing. I texted Sista yesterday early in the day and never heard back. I texted her again today and I still not heard back so obviously I’m thinking the worst. I remember how god-awful painful it was for me when Detective Pigglesworth left and then four months later, Lady Blubbington. I’m hoping I’m over reacting and everything is cool but until I hear from her I’m just gonna worry.
Which led me to staying up late last night crying....thinking about Ziggy & Zoe and how much it still hurts. Before them was Allison Da Housecat who left me in 2007. And all the friends I’ve lost along the ride. I cried about how lonely i feel most of the time. MeDad is gone and MeMum is as good as gone. Friends who have taken their lives. Being hostage to a wheelchair means I can’t go where i want or do what i want. I really want to go to Gasworks Park in Seattle (my happy place) at least one more time while I am still able....but am I really still able? I’m never gonna get to live in the PNW. I’m going to die in a fucking city I despise.