it’s mostly all awesome, isn’t it

trying to write my school assignment, speaking sweet words to clyde, drinking white wine, reviewing  old iphone photos, and basically — it’s mostly all awesome, isn’t it? even the bad stuff.

red heeler puppies

so noble, so blustery

three dogs walking to lauryn hill

digging this

maryam nassir zadeh, fall 2019

on death, dying

NOTE: IF YOU DON’T LOVE DOGS OR DRAWN OUT STORIES ABOUT THEIR HEALTH, YOU MAY WANNA SKIP

supposed to be working on my school assignment but only can think about clyde. he’s skin and bones, not eating except for the tiniest bits. mostly he sniffs food offerings (turkey, ham, spaghetti, hot dogs!), then turns away. heartbreaker. though he will still bark at strangers. last night we took frankie to van’s to give clyde some peace, and then took clyde to el cosmico for a solo excursion, which he seemed happy about, but almost immediately he laid down in a sad way, and threw up (twice). we brought him home and cuddled with him and thought maybe it was the end. at 6am we got up out of worry and anxiety (actually ross got up but then clyde and i cuddled in bed) (every moment important), but then as the morning wore on, clyde seemed less sad and more ear-perky, so another day together. ross says he doesn’t want to “walk” a dog into the vet’s to put him to sleep, which i get, but also who wants to just LIVE for living’s sake? clyde doesn’t want to eat pizza crusts (his favorite food), and i feel like — what’s the point? where’s his joy? i think i’m putting my own (strong) feelings about living and dying on clyde and how i don’t want to be a burden to anyone, i don’t want to not be myself, i don’t want to be crumbling, when it comes time. i’ve always believed in euthanasia and said dead by 74 though that’s my mom’s age so obviously it gets complicated. maybe dead by 78. or dead by 80. anyway, it’s complicated. the life force is strong despite the realities. but are we keeping him alive for him or for us?

ps i totally retail therapy-ied the other day, and bought some new high-waisted unders (two pair) (one off amazon, ugh, but it was called “Ahh By Rhonda Shear”); bath salts for my sister and anthony; new little shorts for baby townes; and i want to buy this for carolyn (I’M GONNA). my mom also sent me some xkarla crop tees out of the blue because she knew that i wore the one she gave me for my birthday FIVE TIMES IN A ROW (clearly no hang ups about cleanliness) and just getting that made me break up a little.

other things:

• i like beto, i don’t support his run for president, but i thought it was brave as hell in the debate when he was like, hell yeah we’re going to take your AK-47s!
• i watched this video about gun licensing and i was wondering: if greg hadn’t had his granddad’s gun, would he have made a different choice? (kind of not related but just thinking about gun access, and how access makes all the difference)
• i also listened to this interview with andrew yang on the daily and i know he’s kind of a nut and that sweepstakes thing is nutty, but he had surprisingly meaningful ideas and a surprisingly genuine and thoughtful perspective
• my friend britney just dropped off flowers and wine because she heard about clyde’s decline and of course it made me spill mad tears.

good stamp

bought these the other day, along with these, and these (big spender). sometimes i can’t believe cool things like this keep happening in the world. like — there’s still a part of the USPS dedicated to making beautiful and meaningful stamps.

think this guy actually looks a bit joyful

why can’t we die doing exactly our favorite thing

thinking a lot about clyde and dying and how we’re such an advanced society and yet — death still comes with suffering and sadness. no matter what, clyde’s death will involve pain — but wouldn’t it be so amazing to die while doing something he loves, like eating a mountain of brisket, chasing cats, barking at UPS, snuggling — what if he could just go in a flash doing one of those things? in the moment of brisket sensory delight — gone. i just can’t stop crying trying to face it. he’s been the best dog and i’m so sad that i didn’t take him to the ocean like i promised myself.

the call of the void

from “10 Extremely Precise Words for Emotions You Didn’t Even Know You Had”:

L’appel du vide: You’re waiting for the train when an inexplicable thought flashes into your mind: What if you jumped off the platform? Or perhaps you’re driving up some precarious mountain pass, when you feel strangely moved to jerk your steering wheel to the right and sail clear off the road. American psychologists in 2012 published a paper in which this feeling was dubbed the “high place phenomenon” (and their study suggested, by the way, that its presence does not necessarily signal suicidal ideation), but the French term for the phenomenon is much more alluring, as French words so often are: l’appel du vide, or “the call of the void.” As the philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre once observed, the emotion is so unsettling because of the way it “creates an unnerving, shaky sensation of not being able to trust one’s own instincts.” It’s a reminder, then, to perhaps not always let your emotions rule your behavior.