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Archive for the ‘Doggone’ Category

Fruit Salad

I can never write when I want to. I went home last night intending to write a story. When the words come, they’re when I least expect it. And even then, the burst of inspiration doesn’t last long and I have a strong urge to finish it up and never leave whatever I’m writing to get back to at a later date. Add to that, I never edit or review my work. This is probably why I’ll never be the kind of writer that I envisioned I would become someday.

So I realized that I hadn’t given you an update on the various goings on in my life since the move to the new house, which I highly doubt you’ll be interested in reading. I’m opting to shove it down your throat, none-the-less. 😉

The most important thing is that I miss Stitch & MoCuishle. It’s been over 2 weeks since I’ve seen them and my heart breaks so many times a day when I think of them. They used to be the last thing I saw when I went to sleep and the first thing that greeted me when I opened my eyes every morning. I need to bring them over to spend a night with me one day soon. There’s nothing like sinking your face into Stitch’s silky coat at the end of a long day.

The great Dharmasiri Bandaranayake seems to think quite a bit of me it seems. He invited a friend of mine and I to perform in a Sinhala play with him. A classic satire of his from the 70’s which he is remaking in November. Needless to say, it has been a very different experience. It’s almost a complete 180 from the English theatre I am used to. Hopefully I’ll be able to pull off the performance because it is an absolute honour to be invited into his fold and be cast in a role without an audition, merely based on one previous performance he managed to catch the video of.

In terms of work, my office has turned into a factory. I churn out ideas and copy as though I was making hoppers. As a result my output hasn’t been brilliant. Some ideas are good, some are ok and some are just downright shit. If I had the luxury of time to think about one campaign at a time, the situation would be quite different. As it stands I have 4 jobs in hand!

I opened a Twitter account in April and “tweeted” (is that what you call it?) once about Attia in Rome. I suddenly got the urge to tweet again and I’ve been on a roll since a few days ago. Nothing of substance there either. Some random things about a Snuffleupagus and others about work. Following the right people is the key I hear, so I’ve been finding people who inspire me which seems far more interesting that updating my own excrement. Stephen Fry has proved to be a very interesting follow I must say!

And then the beautiful Cinderella bestowed this award on me called loyal friend and reader and now I am to name five bloggers to give this same award to. So here goes…

RD, for finding the occasional bit of substance amidst my blogging madness and becoming a friend in the process.

Brandix, for inspiring me to become a blogger. This blog exists because he introduced me to it and it has become one of the best outlets for my twisted mind.

Dishi, for writing from her heart and speaking from her heart as a person and a blogger. Her writing moves me and so does she as a person.

St. Fallen for reading me from the point he became a blogger himself. And along the way, I’m really glad we’ve also become friends.

And finally to Gyppo, whose posts make me feel like I’m in a scene from Ground Beneath Her Feet. She writes the things in my head, only she puts them across better.

There are many more I would like to give these out to, but alas I am limited to only 5. To my chosen 5, go ahead and knock yourself out picking another 5 yourself! (That is if you want to, of course)

That’s it in the life and times of the missing sandwich. Besides finding my first grey hairs and going into a state of manic depression interspersed with the occasion bout of OCD.

I’m terribly sorry this post became such a mixed fruit salad of things. Enjoy the weekend y’all!

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Sniff the Pic

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So I woke up with Jason Mraz this morning. He was humming I’m Yours somewhere in my head. I sat up straight and grinned like an idiot. It’s Friday the 13th and I’m in an unusually good mood. That must count for something.  Surely. For me to wake up on a normal day minus my muse, minus theatre, minus weed, minus the ocean… and still smile even before Stitch and Mucks pounced on me.

I have a good feeling about today. I have no clue what will or won’t happen and it’s kinda ok I guess. Things can’t always come out roses. Not that I like roses to begin with. It’s been a rocky road and I’m smiling. I think what matters is that I’ve been coming out of my slump personally. I’m not in that dark place where every part of my life just collapsed around me with no advance notice. I’ve moved away from 9 miserable years. And I’m ok. I’m really ok. I may come back and tell you differently on Monday, but what matters for now is that I’m thrilled for no apparent reason. And it feels damn nice.

Have you seen a deck of tarot cards? There are 22 major arcana cards which I primarily read with and the last one is my personal favourite. It reminds me of how I feel right now. It’s called The Fool. It depicts this man who seems to have packed up all his dreams, holds a flower in his hand and is about fall off a precipice unknowingly, during an eclipse. I know that sounds all dramatic. But for me, I’ve always seen the card as an adventure. A risk. Irrespective of the consequences. That’s kinda how I’m feeling. I’m a fool on a journey and… I feel good… na na na na na na na!

titaniafool

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Darth Maximus was. In my search for the 3 day weekend to find meaning in my life, it hits me late Friday night anyway.  Let me tell you a story. A couple of years ago when my life was at its lowest point I just picked up the Sunday Observer and went through the classifieds I wanted to play with some puppies to feel better so I went straight to the kennel notices & went to a house on the pretense of buying a puppy. There was a litter of glossy black Labrador puppies that I visited and in the midst of playing with them, one of the pack wanted nothing to do with me. He grabbed an old dead leaf, ran off, hid under his kennel and glared at me while chewing on it. I fell in love. I took him home. 

Months later things just got worse and worse. I was literally all alone in the world except for my beloved Max. I had decided to die. Everything was planned out to perfection and no one would know until it was too late. Every one reaches their limit. People may say that God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. But I had more than my share. I won’t go into the details because that’s not necessary. Everyone has a limit they reach before breaking point and I was way beyond mine. That’s all I need to say.  Max knew I was dying inside bit by bit. He grew more and more attached and protective of me day by day. But even he knew I was slipping away. When no one else knew, he did. I think he felt he needed to do something drastic. Unconditional love makes one do the extreme.  The day before my perfect suicide, Max died. Just like that. A beautiful 7 month black angel. All I could do was hold onto his dead body in the middle of a road and scream at the injustice. When things couldn’t get any worse, just 24 hours before I was destined to end it all…   

Jesus died to erase the sins of the world. Max died to erase the pain in my soul.  Darth Maximus died in my place and I am alive because of him today. This post is a tribute to my saviour. My first child and my salvation from my pain. My salvation from everyone who hurt me. My salvation from myself.  You soar in my soul baby. Mummy will never forget you.

 

Originally posted on 28 05 2007. I just read a post by my friend Absent that reminded me of my own painful loss and I felt the need to post it again.

 

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Thanks for the tag D.

So what have I done?

  • I’ve learned to be independent
  • I’ve learned that only my dogs understand the language I speak
  • I’ve gone through a series of unfortunate events that even Lemony Snicket can’t compete with
  • I won my first ever medal for athletics (in case you don’t know me, I’m allergic to sports when it comes to anything other than spectatorship)
  • I smiled way too much for my own good
  • I cried for one week straight as a result of my overdose of smiling
  • I realized that I am stronger that I have ever given myself credit for
  • I became a cynic
  • I was kissed senseless for 6 hours straight
  • I shared an apartment with 2 other wonderful people for a while, and loved it.
  • I lost a considerable amount of weight (needed to add something superficial in here)
  • I came out of the closet, not that I was in one to begin with. I just started telling people instead of waiting for them to ask me. (Just for the record, I’m not gay, I’m not straight, I’m not bi-sexual. If I am in love or in intense attraction mode, your gender or sexuality is irrelevant to me and in turn mine should be to you. And ya, that means I might hit on the occasional gay guy as well. 😉 )
  • I’ve come to believe that once you’ve gone through that one big love in your life, everything else that comes your way pales in comparison. (The Darkness was so right when they said that love is only a feeling)
  • I’ve discovered that there’s nothing I’d like to do better than play hooky, sit at home and watch re-runs of just about anything on my couch with loads of food and my babies flopped by my side
  • I have told women in Puttalam how to put a condom on their husbands & helped them to find their erogenous zones
  • I have changed my opinion of lady cops, considering the 2 wonderful female officers I’d sit back and drink my blues away with who I am proud to call my friends.
  • I can say that my biggest, proudest achievement this year was being a part of the Solidarity Gaymes and seeing the whole event come to life despite every single obstacle we faced
  • I never stopped believing in Santa Claus

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The Nine Lives

We had nine beautiful babies. And then fate decided that they were not meant to be. They were all gone, one by one within an hour. The weekend was hell. My heart it breaking with a deep ugly pain and I don’t know what more to say.We had nine lives that were never meant to be.

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Aiyo! Still no babies. The vet is actually sounding concerened and if we see no sign of Boxadors by the end of the day, she wants Mucks to go into a C-Section tomorrow. Surgery is already scheduled. Am worried.People keep looking at me with that look of “uh… its a dog… what’s the big deal?” Those people obviously don’t know what it feels like to share your home and life with another species who turns out to be more attuned to you than most humans are.

Just so worried. Stitch seems to know something is wrong with Mocuishle and has stopped eating, keeping a constant vigil by her side. Fingers crossed that they will arrive before the surgery.

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