Donde esta el ron!

It's hard to believe it's all coming to a close. I have gotten much into the habit of life amidst the Cossitt/Pernal household. Yet all good things...

I have learned quite a lot here, about myself, about kids and dogs and marriages and Spanish. It's been fantastically educational to dip my toes into the lives of these people so vastly different from my own life. I think a lot of times people get stuck in their own little worlds, and it becomes hard to remember that other people don't have the same ideas and thoughts on life, and often it is simply because their experiences and frames of reference are just different. My sister and her family lead a life so very different from mine. I am sometimes delighted by how things work in this household, and sometimes appalled. And yet I've enjoyed just soaking it all in. I'm sure they have many criticisms about the way I lead my life, (and they've made a few of them widely known to me!) in the end we accept each others' differences and for the most part, my two months here have been pretty even sailing. Each day I try to remember to take a moment and be grateful for such a loving and accepting family.

Oh, so date night, was... well, it was a lot of things. Mostly it was yet another reminder of my utter inability to feel attracted to any man who might actually be good for me. This guy is good-looking, well-educated, into music, fairly stable, wants to get married, wants to have kids, and yet I'm totally uninterested. Great. Honestly, at this point, I'd rather have Reckless Clive in my life than a boyfriend. Speaking of which -

I finally heard back from a group called Project Samana. They come to the DR twice a year to spay and neuter dogs here. I wrote to them about Clive and they've assured me that as long as they can find her, they'll spay and vaccinate her. The extra good news is that they are coming down the first week in November. So that means I'll only have a short wait to hear if they were successful in finding her. Crossing my fingers big time on this! I should be reciting daily prayers to the canine gods and leaving offerings of fatty chicken outside my door every night.

It's the final countdown

So at last the end is breathing down my back. I've less than a week left in the DR. I'm trying to remember to embrace the good parts about going back to Seattle; amazingly enough I am looking forward to resuming a life of actually having work and responsibilities. I don't have much of either, but I think I have just enough to give some meaning and purpose to my life. While my idle decadence has been enjoyed to the fullest here, there is a facet of happiness that can only be met from physically applying oneself. Sloth is great for a while, but I do yearn for activity. My waistline especially yearns for physical activity, as I've managed to gain 5 pounds since I got here. Hopefully I can be strong-willed enough to rid myself of the bad habits picked up, such as rum and cokes at all hours, neck-packing at dinner (dammit, Dave, why is it all so delicious!), dessert every night, 50 oz. bottles of beer, butter, butter, more butter, corn chips, breakfast-noonsies-lunch-snack-appetizer-dinner-dessert, and all the while rum rum rum.

I sure am heartbroken at the thought of leaving my nephew. It finally makes more sense than ever how you can love this person so much at yet sometimes want to throw them off a cliff. Just when you think you can't stand the relentless questioning and the overly dramatic temper tantrums and the hard iron stubbornness, he'll do something that absolutely melts your heart. And I'm just the auntie who's been here two months. I imagine the feelings must be tenfold in both directions when it's actually your kid.

So, yes, I'll be leaving behind Adian, and the warm tropical weather, the decadent food, the free rum, the absence of responsibilities, the lascivious stares from the Latin men, the 8 hours of sleep every night, the tremendous thunder storms, the fantastic amount of living space, the hammock, and my amazing family that will forever have my utmost gratitude. But Seattle has a lot of great things too, like... er...

My rats!
My friends!

and... um...

good beer!

Geeze I think I might really miss this place ;)

Date night postponed, good news about Clive!

So date night was postponed, but the good news is that date night is still on for Sunday. Dave is making fried chicken and my paramour will be in attendance. Which will be interesting for sure. I already feel kind of like I'm a teenager and Dave is my dad, so Sunday has the potential to be truly uncomfortable, but get enough rum in all of us and I'm sure it'll be just fhaaaaaaaaaane.

And there is good news on the Clive front!!!! I got word today from a woman who lives on the Samana peninsula who works with a group from the US that comes down twice a year to spay and neuter street dogs. I told her about Clive and asked her if there was anything she could do to help get Clive spayed and vaccinated. I didn't hear back for over a week and a half, but she finally got back to me today and said that the group from the US would be in the area the first week of November, and if they could find Clive, they'd spay and vaccinate her! So that's a huge stumbling block potentially cleared. There's still a lot of hurdles to contend with - they may not find her when they are in the area, and even if they do, she may not be there by the time I can come back down here. But still, the spay and vaccination were the biggest difficulty, and even if that's all I can get for her, at least I will have been able to do that for her. So now all I can do is sit back and wait til the first week of November and hope that they are able to find her.

Date night!

Hello gentle blog-readers. Today I tell you of my impending date night. And here I thought I'd make it out of the DR without any liaisons with Dominican men.

I met him while walking the dogs last night, he's one of our neighbors. And here's a shock - he's a skinny guy who plays guitar. My, my, Allison, really breaking away from the norm, aren't we? Hey, at least he's not the typical Allison so white you can partially see through the pale flesh white boy. I told him to take me to a place where we can get really good mofungo. And no, that's not code for something tawdry, that's a local food made with plantains and meat.

And now I'm off to eat deep-fried cheese-filled bacon risotto balls.

Life is nice.

Tired

Today was by far the most active day I've had here yet. Started the morning off with some yoga with Joan, and in the middle of it a friend called and asked if I wanted to go to a Latin dance class with her at a local gym. "Yeah, sure," said I. It was fun and I'm glad I went, but I much prefer dance classes where there is essentially no routine. I'm a great dancer, I just don't learn steps very easily, and although I find some enjoyment in ultimately learning the routine, I much prefer just dancing whichever way the music moves me. But still, it was pretty cool to participate. Went home for a wee rest, and then took off to another Saturday softball game. This was the first time playing without any trace of cloud cover and it was OMG hot. Still, I managed (with the help of some beer and rum) to have the best time playing so far. Someone cranked up the tunes from their car so we had Latin dance music blaring for most of the game. It was hella fun and sweat was epic. Plus, we ALMOST won! Almost ;)

So now I'm up getting ready for bed, and will probably succeed in watching about 10 minutes of The Tudors before passing out in a well-deserved coma sleep.

A last breath of hope

Crafty minds and wishful thinking have been hard at work to come up with one more stab at a plan to bring Reckless Clive and I together. There is a vet on the Samana Peninsula who does some work with helping out the homeless dogs in the area, and he was very happy to hear that I had decided to adopt one. I wrote to him tonight to ask his help in a map capped scheme that would involve getting Clive to him, preforming the needed surgeries and vaccinations, and then keeping her in the care of someone until I come back to visit the DR sometime in the early spring. Knowing full well that this is a lot to ask, I'm trying to not be too hopeful, but ultimately this may prove to be the best option overall. I certainly wasn't expecting to find a dog here to take back to Seattle with me, and I'm pretty much completely unprepared for such a thing. If this works out it'll give me the time I need to get ready for her arrival, rather than trying to throw things together at the last minute. It'll be less stressful for her and me both.

And if the vet won't agree to the mad capped scheme, well, I suppose I just have hope that she'll still be hanging around the same hotel next spring. Aye, aye, aye, do I ever give up?

Sometimes I feel like hope springs eternal, but the water it springs is 150 degrees and smells like sulfur.

That's Reality

So what do I do? Do I pretend my heart's not breaking? Will that make me a better person? To say to myself suck it up and stop being a thin-skinned drama queen, to stop falling in love with far-fetched fantasies. Why do we react the way we do and who is right and who is wrong when ultimately it all seems to come down to being honest with yourself and deciding whether or not to pretend. I try to be as honest and open-hearted as I can, but that leaves me vulnerable. I try to practice non-attachment, but my heart wants so badly to love. So many people have said how lucky I am to have been able to be here in the DR, and to have done so much traveling. Their eyes sparkle at the thought of being free from commitment and the burden of family life. I am grateful for all the traveling I've done, I've had adventures and opportunities and sights that have amazed and astounded me. I've met incredible people; some who have changed my life forever. But the thing that many people fail to realize is that my traveling doesn't necessarily come from some sort of wanderlust, but rather from a desperate urge to fill the hole in my life left by an absence of love. Don't get me wrong, my life is filled with people who love me, I'm greatly blessed by that. But that love that comes from true commitment, from a spouse, from a child, hell, from a dog - that love has been nigh absent my whole life.

I'm old enough now that I've known a number of family and friends that have paired off and bred, and so many of them try to tell me how lucky I am that I have an uncomplicated life. Shit, a few of them have even tried to make me guilty about it. Well you know what? I feel like a teen pregnancy in reverse. I didn't choose this life, it was chosen for me. And it feels like every step I take towards any sort of domesticated life blows up in my face. Apparently life doesn't want me to have much responsibility. I can't even manage to get adopting a dog right. I apparently make bad choices, but I make those choices because I'm following my heart. What kind of message does that send? It's pretty goddamn hard to keep believing in yourself when so many dreams turn to smoke and ash.

I have a great life, I know I do. I know that hurdles and hardship make it possible to embrace the goodness and blessing that I do have. And yet often I feel like the only things I truly desire in this life are precisely the things that are denied to me. And, yes, thankyouverymuch, Buddhists, I know exactly what you have to say in the matter. Still, it takes it's toll, and I can't pretend it doesn't hurt like hell.

Reckless Clive will have to remain a dream. My heart is breaking, but at least I'm letting it.

Reckless Clive

Hey blog readers! I have no idea how many of you are out there, and of those, how many reside in Seattle, but I need to put the call out for help with a crazy Allison project. I met a dog here that I want to take back to Seattle with me. Now, before anyone goes flipping their lids, I have thought about this a lot, my sister and brother-in-law have helped me think things over, and we are working with a vet here to make sure things are done properly. The vet says that she knows many people who have adopted strays from the DR and they make great pets because they are so happy that someone finally loves them. At the same time, I realize that this will be a monumental undertaking, and I'm hoping for a little help from my dog-loving Seattle amigos. If anyone has extra dog items, food bowls, nail clippers, a dog bed, that kind of thing, I'd be grateful for any donations. I'm especially looking for some coats and sweaters, as this dog is used to the balmy tropics and I'm taking her back to Seattle in soggy, grey November. She is medium-sized, her body shape and size being about halfway between a regular greyhound and an Italian greyhound.

The biggest issue I face with this is that my apartment doesn't take dogs, so I'll have to move out. My ideal situation would be to find a room somewhere in Queen Anne, preferably in a house with a yard. I still have to give notice at my place, so I'll probably won't be looking to move until December or even maybe January, that is if I don't get nabbed and evicted first!

The last thing I have to ask is if my landlord does discover I have a dog, I may need to have her stay with someone. If that happens, and anyone is willing to give her a temporary home, please let me know and I'll love you forever and bake you lots of cookies.

Anyone who can help out with any of these things, you can contact me at craftyfabricator@gmail.com

Regard - Reckless Clive!

The backyard smells like pee

I'm sitting at the outdoor table that is in my sister's backyard, and, in spite of the dog urine odor, it's a most mighty fine place. I'm not a fan of physical labor in the heat, but I do love doing nothing in the heat and humidity. I love the feeling of walking out of an air-conditioned house into the sultry arms of the outdoors. What also appeals to me is the lack of clothing I have to wear in this climate. There is something really snuggley about crawling into a big warm sweater when the weather is cold, but I much prefer crawling into a mini skirt and tank top and feeling the air on my skin. Then, as the thin (and sometimes thick) layer of sweat collects throughout the day, I love taking a cold shower around 4 of 5 in the evening. It's cleansing and energizing and feels sooooo good!

Yesterday a shipment arrived from Dave's parents. In it was 3 pounds of walnuts, 4 pounds of pecans, and two big bags of brown sugar. I do believe that chocolate chip cookies will be manifesting in the kitchen soon.

Al gets a little nostalgic

It's a curious phenomenon to go to a place that is so very foreign in comparison to where I grew up, and yet suddenly be seeing household items that I've only ever known in the context of "home."

I will explain.

When mom died last year a lot of the household items went to Joan and Dave. They are by far the most established and would be the ones most likely to use most of the stuff. Me in my semi-nomadic lifestyle and my wee studio would not have found much use for the fine china or the stemware or the crockery or the silver-plated salad tongs, or the red crystal liqueur decanter, etc. Now they've settled into the new house and unpacked all their stuff, and almost everyday I see little reminiscent tidbits of my younger life. But there is something surrealistic about seeing them here, in the DR, in a completely different house; a completely different atmosphere, and yet there they are. And every item comes with a momentary memory, a flash of days gone by, a little pang of sadness that all those days are gone, and a little pang of joy that I have so many great memories of growing up. It makes me happy to think that a lot of these things will now become part of Aidan's memories too.