So my parents and sister’s family are in Orlando (or more properly, Lake Buena Vista, or wherever the fuck that resort is) and I can’t walk into their house without feeling the dead silence of no dog. It’s not right. It will take some getting used to.
Now I’m getting the shit kicked out of me in Scrabble by a family member who has already played two seven-letter words in a ten-move game while reading about Chinook helicopters and watching Lost and generally being hypomanic.
Within recent days, I’ve heard from people whose parents’ faces were mauled by dogs, from those who bounce like pinballs around the country between Boston and Miami and San Francisco, from those who are just plain having a hard time far from here and with me having no input, which is probably good.
This blog rocks.
I keep looking at this disposable camera I bought, to take pics of Nubble, because I left the digital one in some faraway state. It’s the most empty-looking device imaginable.