MIA
As previously stated, sorry for neglecting. My apologies to you, oh mighty interwebs. My internet at home is down (and my toilet also is broken..my apartment is broken!!) So, here I am blogging from a friend’s. Somehow said friend’s internet does not like my domain at all, so I had to fuck with my registry to even get online.
And I still can’t access my site email. Fuck my life. I’m working with what I have though, and atleast I’m able to post something..anything really. I’ve been missing my outlet. Writing pen and paper in a journal just isn’t the same. I can’t bounce ideas off paper, in fact most things I write in my actual journal aren’t thing I would be posting on the world wide web. Some things are jus too personal.
So last night I got all spiffed up to head out for halloween. As a general rule I take Jasper out for a long walk before I head out to do anything because it tuckets him out and he just sleeps while i’m gone instead of leaving me “presents”. As I looped back around to head home some little fucker shot what I assume was a bottle rocket or firecracker at me.
What you need to understand is, even though Jasper is ginormous and scary looking, he is indeed a huge pussy. I heared a loud pop (which naturally freaked me the fuck out) and the next thing I knew Jas was pulling me into the street infront of the car. He never does this. I pulled back trying to get him back onto the side walk but he was just having none of it. he managed to wiggle free and he bolted right down the street.
I’ve never seen him run like that. I called my friends down the street and we went out searching. They were in cars, and I was on foot sobbing like a little girl. Anyone who knows me well knows how much I fucking love that dog. It’s pathetic, but at some points in my life he has been the one thing I look forward to. The thought of losing him because i couldn’t handle him at a moment in time, and due to someone else acting like an asshole leaves me speechless. I seriously turned into a basketcase.
So basically I’m trekking around the West End in my sweats, with my extensions in, sobbing with make up running down my face-generally looking pathetic. The whole thing happened outside a residence, so I went back there to look for the little fuckers (i was incredibly pissed off at this point) but no one was there…so i used the front desk phone and left the manager a nice voice mail.
Luckily the manager, Mike, was a stand up guy and he ended up calling me back within about 10 minutes apologizing profusely. They have video surveillance and he had me call the police (who just laughed at me by the way). By now I had given up and just wanted to go home and wallow over my loss. I think I was about half way home (and incredibly out of it) when I just sat down on the sidewalk and cried like a stupid little girl.
Guess who comes running? Jasper does. The little fucker.
So it all ended well, and I still went out and had a fairly decent time.