June 07, 2004

12:12 a.m.

Transitions

Suddenly here is a week so different I have to double check and make sure it's my life. I think I needed this little break. I've moved on in my mind from this apartment and it helps a lot. After rehearsal tomorrow, Carol is going to NJ to meet up with her parents about selling the house, so we won't be doing anything for a week. I actually have next weekend off. Rose and I are planning a movie day -- at home, with all the ones we've saved up for each other.

It'll be a welcome fun time after putting down the little black dog tonight.

Suni (full name: Tsunami Warning) was quite wasted and shaky, though still glad to see everyone. But it was clear she was on her way; she could no longer eat, and hardly drank at all, and couldn't control her functions. So Rose called her vet friend and he came over to the house. We all took our time and reviewed her life, told stories about her, and finally gave her what she'd always wanted -- her rightful place in the center of the Universe, being petted by everyone at once, and with no other dogs in sight. I'd never been present at a dog-spirit-releasing event, and I was a little scared when it came down to the moment. But I didn't fall apart, and I was glad I'd been there.

Suni was a feisty little runt. She looked unlike any other Portuguese Water Dog I've ever seen. Her hair was more silky than curly, and she was much smaller than average for the breed. She was the dog that brought Rose and Mike together; they met at a dog agility class he was teaching. After about her first year she stopped liking other dogs, but she always loved people and was very sweet and obedient. She loved to snap off the fluffy tops of dandelions while on the run in the back yard, and she loved to eat worms. Her favorite game was, "I've Got a Secret!" She would come into the room in that weenie way that said she was hiding something in her mouth that she'd found. With a little coercion she'd give it up: a twist tie, a paper clip, a piece of bark. Any little thing. One night Rose was upstairs in the office and Suni came weenying in all proud of herself, and when Rose coaxed her mouth open, out popped a perfect, whole blueberry. It was like it was more important to bring the thing and show it, than to eat it.

She loved to punch holes in socks. Mike never put his away, so he lost several pairs until he taught her how much fun it was to bring the socks instead of eating them. Ever after, she loved to help me with the laundry. I'd throw a sock across the basement, she'd run and fetch it, and then it would go into the washer.

When called, she used to pelt across the yard and jump right up into Mike's arms. She did this until she got a little arthritic and had to ease off the acrobatics.

I'll miss her joyous little self.

********

Such a time of transitions. There was a magnificent Indian dinner in Springfield on Saturday, and I got to see my APARTMENT-TO-BE. It's spectacular. It's so different from where I live now, my mind is having to bend to get around it. It has high ceilings, tall windows (with the original, slightly wavy glass), a fireplace I didn't expect, a huge kitchen, an actual dining room which I may use for meditation and plants, bay windows and stained glass and not one but two balconies, front and back. And she may be moving well before July of next year, depending on her investments. She's buying a flat in India and going back to work on the ashram where she lived for 18 years. She's quite a fascinating woman and an incredible cook. I feel greatly indebted to her.

She may decide to sell some of her furniture when the time comes, as it'll be impractical to bring it all to India. So the place may not be so empty.

The electrical circuits aren't all that great, and Mike may have to do a little rigging to get my office up and running.

But that's for next year. In the meanwhile I'm slated to leave here at end of September and move into Rose's house. I'm now actually looking forward to clearing out a lot of crap before I move. I always imagine that I'll strip down so much that the move will be a breeze, but it's never that way, is it? At least I have plenty of time to prepare, and can move in gradually rather than having it be all on one hellish day.

Anyway, when we got there Mike took us on a short walk in Forest Park, where he often eats lunch. I guess his work is very close by, which is great because it means we can do lunch often when I'm in town. Forest Park not only has walking trails and cycling paths (xc skiing is also encouraged), but there is a huge duck pond, a little league ball field, a zoo, a playground, stables, a senior center, and I forget what else. Waterfalls. So I could have privacy or company as I choose. The apartment is a mere five houses down from the forest, and the cross street that borders the woods is a dead end.

I took movies of the apt. with my little camera because I knew I wouldn't see it again for a long time.

My Indian neighbor came along, and I'm so glad he did because he and Karen speak the same language -- I forget what it was, not Urdu but something else. I knew they'd have a lot to talk about and sometimes he's homesick for his own culture. It turns out his middle name is the same as the first name of her partner in India who died of cancer a few years ago.

********

My neighbor seems to have picked up a burrowing parasite in Brazil some weeks ago. What looked like a bug bite at first, on his foot, became a red line that circumnavigated his arch and came up on the other side. Rose suggested he get to the Travel Clinic at the U. of Connecticut right away to get it checked out. He has trouble wearing shoes for very long because it itches. Pretty much grosses me out, the thought of a worm or something eating its way around my extremities. He said his regular doctor doesn't know what to make of it, but the people at UConn specialize in stuff you get when you travel.

********

We played in the rain at the "Splash!" festival in Norwalk today, a ridiculous event because it nearly always gets rained out. No one was really even there, and they'd given us the first slot which is a terrible time to play anyway. We laughed our way through it because it was absurd, with rain dripping in from the seams of the stage ceiling, puddling up around our equipment and causing us to place coffee cups in strategic places, and move our mics between every song. Carol said at one point (on mic), "I think they're taking this Splash! thing a little too seriously! Maybe what they need is another NAME... like, The Sunshine Festival!" We were making jokes from Christopher Guest films and trying not to completely lose focus. Our set was cut short because, apparently, the stage on the other end of the block became so wet as to be unusable, so they were going to have to transfer all the acts to the one stage we were on and have everyone do shorter sets. We didn't mind.

When I got home, my upstairs neighbor was just getting out of his car with a pizza. When I slobbered uncontrollably over it, he immediately invited me up to share. We hadn't talked in quite a while. He was very bummed when I told him I'd be moving; he said, "I'm gonna get some young kid down there who plays rap music!" I said I'd have felt the same way if he or Kartik had moved out first, and I apologized. Bob feels stuck here because he needs to be near his son, whom he has half time, and can't really afford to move anywhere. His life is consumed by making his payments and sticking with a job that he doesn't really like, a boss he REALLY DOESN'T like, and lots of overtime he doesn't get paid for. It made me very, very grateful that I got to play in the rain this morning.

********

I'd gotten up so bloody early to get to the gig this morning that, after the pizza and a salad I made in my own place, I just had to take a nap. Rose said the vet wasn't coming until the evening, so about 5:00 I conked out. At 6:30 I woke up groggy and afraid I'd overslept. I wasn't hungry again yet, so I went right over to Rose's. By the time I got home it was ten something, but then I was hungry, so made up some edamame, sauteed mushrooms, and another salad while talking to Dar on the phone. I think I'm finally ready to go to bed again.

Tomorrow, rehearsal; Tuesday, free day in which I'll color my hair and do odds and ends; and Wednesday, you know what with you know whom.

Ah, Will.