Goodbye Again

I continue to be surprised at how infrequently I run into people I know in Vegas. It practically never happens.

I am also always surprised at how frequently I do run into people I know in airports. As a matter of fact, I've run into at least one person I know every time I've been in an airport for the last two years. Every time. Doesn't matter what airport.

My streak continued perfect last week when I went to pick up my friend, Marie. I wasn't even going to go in, but I was early and circling the airport for a half hour seemed dumb. I parked and wandered into baggage claim.

After locating the carousel where her bags were allegedly to arrive, I sat down and sent Marie a text telling her that I had come in and then proceeded to peruse my email. As I read through a bunch of really boring mail, I became interested in a conversation that was happening in front of me. A mother and daughter were having a disagreement and at its climax I stopped pretending to read and looked up at them. I didn't just sit there gawking or anything, but I took a good look before pretending to look for Marie, who, according to my app, hadn't landed yet. As I looked around, quietly entertaining myself with people-watching, I heard my name.

"Hey, Dot."

I heard the voice, the familiar use of my name on his tongue. It was surprisingly sweet.

I stood up and hugged him. It was easy - so usual, in fact that it wasn't until I started to ask how he'd been that I remembered the circumstances of our lives.

I asked him, five years ago, to not contact me anymore. I explained that I didn't think it was good for him if we continued to communicate. He seemed to always hope I would change my mind and we'd get back together.

I only fully processed the whole situation when the words, "How have you been," we're out of my mouth.

He smiled and said, "I still miss you," but not in a sad or creepy way.

"I still miss you, too," I said.

"You look well - as always."

"Thanks. You, too. You've lost some weight."

"Yeah. I've been doing a lot of kayaking. And I finally learned to surf."

I always wanted him to surf with me.

" Well, it agrees with you. What brings you to Vegas?"

"Nick's (his cousin) bachelor party."

Just then I saw Marie walking through the crowd towards me. I waved.

"Well, have fun. Give my best to Nick."

"I will. Goodbye again, Dot. It was excellent seeing you."

He hugged me and disappeared into the crowd.

Quote

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
-Ernest Hemingway


Yes.

Thanks

Dear Woman in the Mazda Ahead of Me at Starbucks This Morning:

Thank you for paying for my order. It made my morning! And also thank you for telling the cashier to tell me that my gas tank was open. I promise to pay the kindness forward.

Yes

I don't know how long you'd been standing next to me before you slid your hand into mine. When I think about it, it seemed like you'd always been there. And when you said, "Hey" it was as if our last conversation had only been briefly interrupted.

I lied when I said I never miss you. And I evaded when you asked if I ever wondered what would have happened if...
But in truth we both know the answer to that question.

You are you and I am me. We are separate because as much as we belong to each other, we do not belong together. We both know this. No, I haven't always wanted to accept the bare truth of it. Our moment was glorious.

But so you know, I do miss that you that you were when we were us.

You Know Them

We all know those people who rely heavily on the opinions of their doctors. They might be hypochondriacs, or they might be wooed by the title, bit either way, they're the ones who are always starting sentences with, "My doctor says..."

I don't put a whole lot of stock in western medicine. I don't think all doctors are hacks, but I am skeptical of much of what comes out of any doctor's mouth until I hear hard evidence accompanied by sound reasoning.

So, when people try to tell me things that I should do because their doctor told them it was a good idea, I usually just say thanks and ignore them. BUT, I am sick and effing tired of people telling me how dangerous hot yoga is.

I have a co-worker who, every time I mention that I went to yoga, says, "My doctor says it's dangerous to let your body temperature get that high." For a while, I just thanked her for her concern and left it at that.

Finally, though, I asked her what temperature she was talking about. She told me she didn't know exactly, just that her "doctor said it was bad."

This kind of crap drives me up the wall. I mean, we all know getting too hot is dangerous, but (and yes, I've taken a thermometer to the studio with me) my core temperature has never gone over 99.5. That's not even a whole degree above 'normal.' So I told my co-worker as much and yet she still would not stop.

Look, people, don't spout off about things you don't know about. Even if you're citing your doctor as a source. Doctors are just people. Sure, they went to school for a long time, but that really doesn't mean that they know everygoddamndedthing. It's like any other profession. Some people are well informed in their fields, others are not. But the thing I want to stress the most here is that you should never take someone's word for anything just because they went to medical school.

And for the love of Jesus Tapdancing Christ, don't keep harassing me because of something your doctor told you.

I will now put my soapbox away.

Rembrance

When I heard the sad news of your passing, the first thing I thought of was the sweat running down the backs of my thighs as we squished into the space between the dryer and the back door waiting to deliver a much-deserved scare to your brother as he came in from football practice. I remember waiting and waiting - giggling and shushing each other. And I remember the sweat. I don't remember if we ever actually pulled off our caper, although I feel we most likely finally gave up.

I remember what a daredevil you were - always careening down hills on your bike, skinning your knees and hands as I watched, cautiously, never wanting to get hurt. You were the first to jump off the high dive, the first to do a handspring - the kid with bruises and dirty hands and the seam ripped out of your pants from sliding down a muddy hill one too many times.

I'm glad I remember you that way - fearless and smiling a toothless smile from sliding down the stairs head first on a satin pillowcase and slamming into the tile at the bottom. After you caught your breath and pulled out the loosened teeth, you went right back to the top and did it again.

I was lucky to have had you as a friend then, because I needed your derring-do to help me not be quite so tentative. If not for you, I doubt I would ever have done backflips on the trampoline or jumped my bike.

You were my best, blue-tongued, popsicle-eating, fat-lipped friend. I know your presence in the world will be missed by all of us who ever knew you. I'm sorry I didn't know you better in your adult life, because I bet you were still a scream.

Thanks for everything.

A Huge Bite

I've decided it's time for a new adventure. I considered skydiving, but dismissed it because it's not the kind of adventure I'm really looking for. I want more than fun. I want a challenge.

Matt has started doing triathlons and wanted me to do them with him. The problem with that is that I can't run. And not just because I don't like it. I have very elastic knee joints, so when I run, my joints essentially come apart and when my foot hits the ground, the bones come crashing together. It's quite uncomfortable and, as you might guess, not good for my knees. So triathlons are out for me, but I like the idea of that kind of thing.

After doing some research, I've decided on open water swimming. I'm going to swim from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Bay Bridge. It's about six miles. That's a lot of swimming. In the San Francisco Bay.

This swim isn't until next spring, but that's okay, since I'll need every minute of that time. The distance isn't the real challenge. That's easy enough to work up to. It's the open (fucking freezing) water that's going to kick my ass seven ways to Sunday. I'm excited to do it, though.

I've already been swimming a lot. The thing I need to do is practice in open water. And I'm not going to get great practice for that here in Vegas. Lake Mead is pretty big, but nowhere close to as choppy as the bay. So there's that. I may have to take a few trips to the coast and jump in. I'm excited.

This is a huge bite. At least I have seven months to chew it, right?