My fine feathered friend

It's a little blurry, but my colleague Shayne brought his raptors to school yesterday, and he let me play with them. (Well, you don't really "play" with taloned animals; you kinda appease them...) Magnificent birds--one (not pictured) is a merlin, and the other (that I'm holding) is a prairie falcon named Jedi. Most all falcons, including these, were trapped in the wild, and they never really domesticate, so this guy was all over the place. At one point, he got loose and flew straight at my face, his leash stopping him a fraction of an inch from my nose. Now I know what the poor pigeon must feel like...

Twenty-nine dollars and change

Tonight Jeff and I needed some time together, so we decided to participate in a little "challenge" at the grocery store. Our mission was to spend under $30 and get the most food possible.

Why, you ask? Two working adults, no kids, no pets... where is the money going? It turns out that we're a little short on cash this month after paying the deductibe to get our stolen/found car repaired, so we're living like newly newlyweds again starting today (because last night we were so hungry/tired that we went out for Middle Eastern food and spent $50 on the meal and another $20 at the bookstore next door while waiting to be seated). As you can see, we have our priorities straight, and we've done quite well with our budget balancing act. Actually, our philosophy is that as long as we are already "putting away a little something for a rainy day" that we ought to at least enjoy some worldly indulgences before we have ten kids and no money to our names.

Anyway, we did it. The total on the cash register said twenty-nine dollars and change. It looks like it must have been inspiration to grab those five boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and the can of Pringles on the way to the check out stand.

I was about ready to end, but Jeff just reminded me what a good husband he is. At this very moment, he is doing the same thing he does every night before going to bed. He is wiping off the bathroom counter and mirror from the splashes that occur from washing his face "vigorously". Early in our marriage, I learned that Jeff can be very vigorous with certain household activities, such as washing his face, washing the dishes, shaking bottles of salad dressing and spaghetti sauce etc., so I had to come up with some keep-this-old-apartment-looking-semi-okay cleaning strategies. Thankfully, Jeff has been very good to respond to my requests.

Now, he's not the only one making changes in this marriage. I'll have you know that at Jeff's request (and after some resistance on my part), I took down the over-the-door-hanger- bracket-thingy from the back of the bathroom door whereon used to hang my warm, fluffy bathrobe for easy access after showering so that he would not get clausterphobic and get injured in our small bathroom. Though I did not get clausterphobic or injured even once, I still made the change.

But another nice thing that Jeff did for me as a surprise was to rearrange the drawers and the closet space because he realized one day that I did not have an equitable amount of storage space. He's such a good husband! :O)

On loss; or, a night in New York City

High school is a morass; a labyrinth; a star too small to supernova but too big to slowly die. It's hard--as in difficult, yes, but also like a baseball bat slammed into one's face is hard, opposition, danger. People often tell me, "You were the student body president. You WERE the high school. You had to have liked it." Moments, perhaps. On the whole, though, the time probably would've been better spent busking for change in the local Greyhound bus terminal.

I sing, then, the praises of Texas is the Reason, arguably the best band in the world, probably the best band of emo's second wave, certainly the best band anytime their CD was playing in my car during high school. They had a self-titled EP, yes, and a full-length album called "Do You Know Who You Are," a bright light in a decade of musical puke. Their music kept me going sometimes, as banal as that statement sounds. And, like most bands I really like, they broke up right before I discovered them.

Last weekend, though, Texas is the Reason reunited for two shows in New York City. They were a New York band, always said as much, and wanted to play one last show in their native city, the show they never got to play before breaking up.

My friends and I always said that, given the chance, we'd fly anywhere to see Texas play, and we meant it, promised it with the ferocity of teenagers who cared more about their music than their--what? Most anything? Case in point: I never had a girlfriend in high school ("Why make one miserable when I can make so many happy?"), but I did see Sense Field, another Texas-ish band, about...ten?...times, even jeopardizing my part in the school play once to see them at Koo's Cafe, a converted Chinese take-out joint. (Magnificent show, by the way.) No, no girlfriend for me but Ticketmaster, my high-maintainence mistress.

And we swore we'd see Texas play, anywhere, anytime. And here was the chance. And I didn't go. I didn't go.

Sure, all the tickets for Saturday were taken, and I would've needed to break the Sabbath to go on Sunday. The short-notice airfare would've driven me to sell a kidney. But, sitting here, watching Youtube-esque videos of the show that fans have posted on the internet, I can't shake the feeling that I should've gone, somehow.

Watching one video, I started getting annoyed that the guy filming was singing along. Then I realized that it was the whole crowd singing along. There's a scripture--I forget exactly where--wherein a prophet recounts his vision of heaven, saying how he saw concourses of angels singing praises, and his soul longed to be there even though he knew he had to stay on earth. Well, that's me. My health was tepid, my timing was shot, the money was dear, but I should've gone, and I'll never forget it.

It costs so much I know.
But I guess I need to know what it would have felt like to be right.
But I'm getting tired all over again so hurry up and get here because I'm still waiting...just like I've always been.